#< ★i may have made it worse then.....
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"Only for a little bit..it's a side effect of... his habilities." He says the word 'his' laced with genuine fear, hugging himself close a bit before shaking his head as if to snap out of it.
"No- No need to get B,, don't worry i can handle this!- It..It isn't the first time it happens and it won't be the last i assume,,, And Tim? Isn't he just.. 13? 14? Like the really young new robin Bruce got. I think he goes by Red Robin? No- Just Robin. . .— And i don't know, head hurts.." He holds his head, feeling a migraine forming this is just so- so confusing. But best to forget about it for now. "I don't really know what,, i remember and don't remember,,, but something tells me you are my kid but.. not anymore? Does that make sense..?"
HI areyouokay? Gotta check on you cuz idont actually got a reason but still!!
@first-boy-wonder
Sorry.. but who are you..? I- Sorry kiddo, memory sucks right now.. i- Your name starts with D right..? D.. Oh! Dickie!
Dickie.. sorry for that baby imnot goodrifhtnow. . I think someone messed with my dreams or memories— And i could be better... I can't jelp but feel like i have forgotten some stuff y'know baby bird?,,,
#<-//I LOVE ANGSTY STUFF ITSCOOL!!!#//Theres an 100% chance Dickie's gonna cry over this tho#< ★i may have made it worse then.....#//IT KILLED THE TAG BEFORE MY EMOJI 😢😢!! *🙏🏼🙏🏼#< ★TUMBLR SILENCED YOU
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Hi❣️ may i request Suguru Geto with Honey + Pure Sugar + strawberry syrup?
... a bad boy!Suguru whisks you away on his thick Harley 'n wants to put a baby in you. He proposes marriage after only knowing you for two weeks, 'cause he's fucking crazy.
ㅤ★ promptlist
ㅤ★ cws; strictly no under 18s, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, aftercare 🫶
Ah, fuck, why'd you always have to fall for the bad boys? Worse, why did you feel turned on when you watched their knuckles go white just before punching someone's lights out in a bar fight?
Thumb flicking off the excess blood on his cheek, Suguru Geto eyed you up and apologized in a sweet voice, "Sorry, I hate to do this in front of beautiful women." and then eyed you up for the second time before asking, "What's your name?"
That blood smudged off on your cheek 'cause immediately after introducing yourself through a horny stutter, his tongue was exploring your mouth and the two of you were indulging in the sloppiest, nastiest open-mouthed kiss right there at the bar, in the neon lights.
Lips wetted by his filthy kiss, you blinked at him like you've never been so lovestruck before and he focused in on you and only you �� then he asked if you wanted to blow this joint. You batted your lashes at him and nodded with starry eyes, too turned on and starstruck to think that maybe you shouldn't abandon Girl's Night for a pierced up and tatted guy bearing a toothy grin and a biker gang emblem on his jacket.
And then you remember trotting outside to his parked motorcycle, giggling like a teenager as your friends yelled for you to come to your senses because you were hopping onto the back of a Harley with Suguru Geto. But it was no use, because you were turned on by the tattoos in his skin and the lingering smoke on his lips and the devilish look in his eyes and the greasy black hair that passed his shoulders and the way his cock made an outline in his leather pants and the way his gloved hands gripped the handles of his motorcycle and how erotic he made smoking seem.
A two week honeymoon with this bad boy, feeding on each other's lust and feasting on each other's bodies and fucking like animals against the walls of a hotel room and sometimes on the bed but nah, usually you got fucked off the bed and onto the floor.
He inhaled at your neck, getting high on your scent 'n starting to thrust harder into you 'cause of it.
"Mm, why do you smell so fucking good...? It's driving me insane." he purrs, rolling his hips 'n grinding his cockhead deep inside your weeping pussy 'till you start choking up because of the depth he reaches.
"I-I dunno, I'm probably ovulating." you innocently squeaked in reply.
"Oh, fuck... really?" he moaned at that, swallowing back his spit in a way that sounded like he started salivating at the thought of knocking you up. Then he slid his hands down and pried your pussy lips wide apart before thrusting into you, his cock frenzied for your ovulating pussy.
Practically glued together, lips locked and tongues fighting, Suguru nearly crushed you under all his muscle as he started fucking you like he was gonna breed your sweet little body.
You naturally leg-locked his slim waist, and he grunted out a "Stay still f'me, doll, 'm gonna fill you with my babies." to which you cried out a string of "Yesyesyesplease!"
Feeling your nails dig into his sides as he rocked his hips into you made his head spin and his cock explode. You rubbed frantically at your clit, came all over him, feeling the sensation of his warm cum filling you up.
Collapsing on you, a panting mess, moans still spilled from his lips as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm. Next moment, you're giggling and he's rolling off of you and snuggling you in a sweaty afterglow.
Some surprisingly dorky joke comes out his mouth. He pinches at your cheeks. His bicep rests against your side as he holds you. Too tired to clean up yet, but that's fine because Suguru's enjoying the smell of you 'n he hopes all his clothes will smell like you for a while.
"Shit, let's get married... let's just get fucking married. What do you say?" he murmured in a daze, clutching your body tightly, a large hand coming to wipe the sweat off your cheek.
"You're crazy!" you giggled back to him, smilingly biting your thumb and kicking your feet with a ridiculous excitement. "We hardly know each other. And you're a bad boy."
"Aw, come on, I'm not that bad." he grins.
You kick your legs off the bed and sit at the edge, preparing to go to the bathroom. He checks you out; the curve of your back calling out to him to make it arch.
"Maybe you are, maybe you aren't." you teasingly shimmy your shoulders at him.
Suguru grabs at you, groaning and reluctantly letting you slip out his fingers and watching your ass intently as you trot over to the bathroom, 'till you're disappearing behind the door. He rolls over onto his back, looks up at the ceiling, and thinks about how he's gonna get you.
#★ 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐏!#mdni#smut#tw: smut#geto smut#geto suguru smut#suguru smut#geto sugu x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto x you#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutssu kaisen x you
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━━ ❝MASTERLIST❞
these are my personal observations and may not resonate with everyone. please take them with a grain of salt, as i'm not a professional astrologer! :))
credits to @m1nd-r0t for introducing the asteroid messerschmidt! took a while to really sink in, so i hope i understood it well!
𓂃⋆.˚
★ MESSERSCHMIDT (16450) in your chart isn't something subtle or easy. it’s a heavy hand, a brutal cut that pulls you to the edge, tearing apart whatever comfort you have and showing you the raw aftermath. think of it as life ripping the bandaid off in the most unforgiving way possible, pushing you into chaos and leaving you with consequences you have no choice but to confront. it’s a ruthless teacher, one that throws you into the darkest extremes of your own existence until you face parts of yourself you never wanted to see.
★ EXAMPLE: ted bundy's messerchmidt his messerschmidt in the 2nd house, sitting in libra at 4°—a cancer degree—screams deep self-worth issues. he was a man starved for validation, but in the most twisted, destructive way. he might have craved material things, but it wasn’t really about possessions; libra’s influence made it all about power and control in relationships. his interactions with women were warped, nothing short of vicious—manipulative, domineering, a game of possession. to him, women were objects, there only for his control and exploitation. he hid behind a charming mask, using it to get what he wanted from people. libra rules justice, which adds another layer; i think he wrestled internally, questioning if his actions were “right.” but he twisted the narrative to justify himself, feeding his twisted sense of entitlement. he saw the world as unfair, and his answer was brutal violence. his need for validation was so consuming that it fueled his drive to dominate, the same way his violent behavior erupted. his crimes? just a sick means to feed his hollow self-worth. that cancer degree points back to family—his home life likely left him void of real love. maybe his mother or caretaker was absent, emotionally cold, or worse, stoking his bitterness and rage against women.
𓂃⋆.˚
MESSERCHMIDT IN ARIES / 1TH HOUSE you’re your own worst enemy here. messerschmidt in aries/1st house rips through self-restraint, pushing you to make reckless decisions that only ever end in chaos. the self-destruction comes fast and hits hard—you’ll tear down your own sense of identity until there’s nothing left. this isn’t a gentle self-discovery; it’s a brutal unraveling. it’ll chew you up and spit you out as you’re forced to face the fallout of your own impulsiveness, stripped down and exposed, fighting against a world you’ve alienated.
MESSERCHMIDT IN TAURUS / 2ND HOUSE comfort, security, stability—everything you think you own or control is on thin ice here. messerschmidt is merciless; it tears apart everything you rely on, leaving you clutching at straws. your worth, your money, your possessions—there’s always something threatening to rip it away. you’re taught, over and over, that nothing is safe. material loss, the constant gnawing feeling of instability—this placement forces you to face the hollowness of everything you think you need to survive.
MESSERCHMIDT IN GEMINI / 3RD HOUSE mental warfare. your thoughts spiral, your words turn toxic, and there’s no escape. it’ll ruin relationships, sever connections, and leave you isolated in the ruins of your own making. your mind is a battlefield, where the casualties are your closest ties and any sense of peace you might’ve had. there’s a pull toward paranoia, obsession, mental exhaustion that drags you down, leaving a chaotic mess that no one wants to touch. it’s relentless.
MESSERCHMIDT IN CANCER / 4TH HOUSE home becomes a prison with this placement. family trauma isn’t just present—it defines you. every illusion of safety gets ripped to shreds. family relationships go from complicated to toxic to something that rots you from the inside out. you’re left picking up the pieces of a childhood or family life that doesn’t hold anything close to comfort, leaving scars that never fully heal. even as you rebuild, it’ll tear it down again. issues with maternal figures or just women in general.
MESSERCHMIDT IN LEO / 5H HOUSE self-expression? try self-destruction. this placement brings you face-to-face with the ugly side of your ego. creative pursuits crash and burn as quickly as they ignite, and romantic entanglements turn into battlegrounds of shattered pride. your need for attention or recognition backfires spectacularly, leaving you humiliated or hollowed out. you’ll keep reaching for validation that doesn’t come, each failure leaving you angrier and more desperate.
MESSERCHMIDT IN VIRGO / 6TH HOUSE this is the grind from hell. messerschmidt won’t let you rest; it’ll drive you to perfectionism so extreme it bleeds you dry. health issues, toxic work environments, and burnout are your constant companions. you push yourself to breaking point over and over, and every time you think you’re close to relief, you’re torn down again. this placement demands everything, and it leaves you holding the scraps of what used to be your sanity.
MESSERCHMIDT IN LIBRA / 7TH HOUSE relationships here are wreckage waiting to happen. messerschmidt drags your heart through betrayal after betrayal, leaving you with trust issues so deep they fester. you attract partners who bring out the worst in you, leading to cycles of breakups, power struggles, and raw exposure of every insecurity you tried to hide. it’s like an endless loop of heartbreak and resentment, leaving you wondering if connection is worth the cost.
MESSERCHMIDT IN SCORPIO / 8TH HOUSE this is shadow work that never ends. it pulls you into the depths of your own darkness, stripping you of illusions and tearing apart your defenses. intimacy and trust? twisted into something unrecognizable. you’ll face betrayal, trauma, and loss on levels that go beyond the ordinary, as messerschmidt pushes you to confront every fear, every raw nerve. it’s a constant death and rebirth that leaves you wondering if there’s anything left to salvage.
MESSERCHMIDT IN SAGITTARIUS / 9TH HOUSE faith, ideals, beliefs—all fall under the blade here. it tears down your philosophies, leaving you stranded in the ruins of your convictions. what you thought was solid gets shattered, pushing you into existential crisis after existential crisis. travel, knowledge, growth—everything leaves you feeling more lost, more disillusioned. it’s an endless search for meaning that’s stripped of any comforting lies, forcing you to face a void of your own making.
MESSERCHMIDT IN CAPRICORN / 10TH HOUSE the grind never ends. messerschmidt shreds your ambitions and leaves you clawing your way up a cliff that keeps crumbling. nothing you build stands. you’re forced to witness the collapse of everything you’ve sacrificed for—career, reputation, self-respect—all reduced to rubble. this isn’t a test of resilience; it’s a punishment for ever wanting power or respect. you’re pushed to rebuild, only for it all to fall apart again, leaving you questioning the worth of any success.
MESSERCHMIDT IN AQUARIUS / 11TH HOUSE friendships are where messerschmidt strikes hardest, pulling people close only to throw them into betrayal or abandonment. there’s a brutal edge to your social life—you attract people who tear you down, backstab you, or leave when you’re most vulnerable. dreams and ideals get ripped to shreds as reality refuses to meet your expectations. it’s loneliness, over and over, as every attempt to connect seems cursed, leaving you questioning if you even belong anywhere.
MESSERCHMIDT IN PISCES / 12TH HOUSE messerschmidt here is the ultimate isolation. the subconscious becomes a hellscape where unresolved trauma festers. self-sabotage is constant, and there’s no escape from the memories and fears that haunt you. you’ll be pulled into dark places, stuck in cycles of self-destruction, as you confront every unresolved piece of yourself in brutal clarity. mental health spirals, leaving you feeling like an outcast in your own mind. every shadow you’ve hidden from drags you down, and there’s no running from it.
★ THANK YOU FOR READING! ★
#astrology#asteroids#astrology signs#asteroid#astro#astronote#astrology readings#astro community#astro notes#astro observations#astro placements#astroblr#natal chart#tarotcommunity
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Hellooo
may I please request a pt 2 of 'kiss it better' like maybe after that they had a tradition of kissing each other's wounds (maybe after tending them too) and they end up just how they started — making out, biting at each other's lips??
orrr! could you do something similar with jason?
thank you for reading! hope you have a great day!
— mature, collected, and sensible ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.
★ - “but if you want my kisses I’ll be your perfect missus till the day that one of us dies”
warnings: making out, established relationship, reader is implied to work in the infirmary so she’s probably an apollo kid, I wrote this in like five minutes lolsies, and I got way to carried away with this… LMAO pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader
part one
“I need you to walk away from me. preferably right now” with an armful of medical supplies, you drop them down on nearby counter for only a moment so you could begin organizing them back into their original spots. percy, however, does not listen to your demand and continues following you like a lost puppy
“but I’m injured! I’m bleeding out, you’re going to let me die?”
“percy-” you discard the supplies and turn around facing him. angrily, you grab your boyfriends hand and drag him to a bed and instruct him to sit down as you gather the required supplies to fix his injury— which was simply a paper cut on his finger
“can I have a superman bandaid?”
you throw down the DC bandaid box and pick up a barbie pack instead. you look around until you find the perfect one, ripping it open and placing it around his wounded finger
“malibu beach barbie. right up your alley”
he pouts. “I can’t walk around camp with a barbie bandaid!”
“you should’ve thought about that before acting like a dumbass”
“okay… wow” he mumbles absentmindedly “so where’s my kiss?”
“you—” you groan in frustration, taking his finger to place a peck over the bandaid
“and…” he points to his lips now. you sigh when he grabs your waist to pull you onto the bed to straddle him. what a fucking bitch he is. nonetheless, you swiftly connect your lips with his, once and twice. when you attempt to pull away he tangles one hand securely in your hair to assure you can’t move from this position. the kiss (es) are utterly dizzying, like almost he had purposely cut himself so he could visit you and earn a kiss as an indication of sympathy from you. what’s even worse is that you give into him with similar force. you let him slide a hand underneath your shirt, digging his fingers into your skin, instantly having you arch into his touch
and as you suspected, he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, eliciting a moan from you and a pool of crimson to drip between the both of you. with this, his tongue runs over the new cut, absorbing all the blood he had made pour out. it stings terribly, yet the pain is soothing and you allow him to continue doing so. you feel his light smile along your lips as your nails dig into his biceps to steady yourself atop him, he enjoys the reactions he’s able to evoke from you so easily
“percy we—” your cut off by your own guttural moan as his tongue slides fully into your mouth to prevent you from finishing whatever you wanted to say. he trails his fingers underneath the waistband of your jeans until he loops his fingers around the edge of your lacy underwear. now, though, you place your hands on his chest and pull away
“we can’t— my siblings will be back soon”
“that’s an unconvincing argument”
you throw him an unamused look. and stand up, searching frantically through a drawer until you find a pink pad of sticky notes and a nearby pen. you scribble something onto it and grab percy’s hand, dragging him outside of your cabin where you place the stick note onto the door. he attempts to read what it says but the letters scramble together
“fifteen minutes and I need to be back, got it?”
he smirks. “yeah, I can work with that”
#xoxochb#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo series#pjo fandom#percy jackson#pjo#percy series#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x you#riordanverse x reader#riordan universe#riordanverse
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★ summary — during a sweltering day at the horse races, anthony bridgerton finds himself rather enchanted by a sharp-witted, and competitive newcomer... however his greatest challenge turned out not quite to be their playful banter but perhaps something deeper than just that. ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★★ pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem! reader ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★ content warnings. n/a ˖˙ ꔫ —★★ word count. 3.8k ˖˙ ꔫ —★ genre. fluff? not really. idiots in love except they don't know they're in love...? anthony being anthony?? ★ authors note: excuse my god horrendous writing, i fear i have just come back from a 2 year hiatus and well.. it seems as if all my writing sense have bene diminished into the ends of the earth. also mutuals. i need mutuals please, i need to be insane to someone.
Anthony always enjoyed a heartfelt competition.
Perhaps a bit too much for the likings of others, but it always seemed to be infused with his blood. It all came so naturally to him; there was no need to try. As a young boy, he would compete with his brothers, Benedict having quite a hearty laugh when he would fail to beat him in whatever makeshift game they conjured up. It made it worse for the already tense gentleman because his annoying, bothersome brother would never stop bringing out how he was younger than Anthony during such times.
But he was not a quitter. He never was, and he decided that he never shall be. Anthony perpetually told himself that, and the results always ended up in his favor at the end of the day. Just as victory appeared within his reach, he let it go once more, easily slipping through his fingers in the subsequent round. Anthony has always been perplexed as to why this pattern only ever appeared to surround him or why he only noticed it within himself far too much.
It seemed quite the same when it came to his love life as well. Taking away the winning part—he never quite seemed to win. Conceivably, Anthony never thought he could truly love someone with his entire being; the sensation felt so foreign and despicable to think about. An acquaintance, he supposed, was something he could settle with. And yet, an admirable acquaintance proved hard to find in this economy. The number of women that lined up for a dance, a date—whatever it may be, were all too simple-minded, credulous, or even dumb, if Anthony really thought about it. None of them appeared to be a suitable partner.
Those thoughts haunted him day and night throughout the season—the wonder if he’ll ever meet anyone well-suited for him, he pondered to himself. Anthony deemed himself rather fortunate that he was a busy man, bustling about a handful of places in need to complete the tasks firsthand. When he had his hands full with some problem, even if it may be pointless, occupied his mind enough for him to forget about his marital issues. Taxation never seemed more interesting to him.
Conversely, he found that it bothered him most during social events. Whereas his problems stood face-to-face against him, sometimes it felt as if it were a direct punch to the gut. With the remaining eligible ladies dwindling, his temper for it all only grew to being far more annoyed than anything else. Any other year, Anthony would’ve respectively enjoyed the horse race that he attended within the company of his brothers, but at this time, his mind had been elsewhere as he mindlessly stumbled his way around the course grounds.
There were a number of people that stood around him, chatting expressively with one an
other. Ladies whispering in hushed tones, their husbands gathered amongst themselves, likely betting against one another. Anthony couldn’t help but to do so himself—a solid bet did him well most days. Although, perhaps, he wasn’t the brightest when it came to the subject despite betting upon the favoured horse.
Anthony tugs heartily at his neckpiece, adjusting the pressure against his throat as it pressed in such a peculiar way that he began to pay some mind to it. He adjusted it so that it was allowed to rest lightly, not entirely choking him out anymore as it had done just moments ago. The effort ended up being weirdly abominable.
Peeved, bothered, and sweaty, he decided sullenly the lemonade that the event offered would not be such a bad idea to him after all. Refreshing was the only word that happened to catch his mind as he politely hurries his way towards where the stand had caught his eye as he made his way into the event. It seems as if half of the people there had a similar idea, heeding from the lengthiness of the line. He could perhaps find some place else to get some refreshments, but if Anthony is being honest, the idea of continuing to walk in this heat whilst unknowing if there even was anything waiting for him out there, wasn’t one that he would immediately jump to. And so he begrudgingly waits.
The sun beats down harshly upon him, and he tirelessly slides off his top-hat to appease the sweat that had begun to cling onto the sides of his forehead. Anthony dabs the beads away silently with the cuff of his coat when no one else is paying any mind to him. He liked to call himself fortunate as the line dissipates fairly quickly, and it is only a few minutes later when he finds himself nearing the refreshments area.
“Cooling, is it not?”
It takes Anthony a beat to realize that the sudden intrusion of the voice is addressed towards him. He swivels his head, pivoting himself so he can adjust to the sudden change in position to locate where the sound had come from. He is quick to answer the question as the fine-looking lady standing next to him stares right back into his betrothed soul.
First impressions always stuck near and dear to Anthony, and while usually it would be noted of their personality and not much else, he finds himself in a different situation to the norm. The first thing he notices happens to be the alluring eyes, mysterious with a gaze that would unsettle any person, man or woman. But the expression read differently, a polite smile stretched upon the delicate skin, her fair hair conditioned beautifully for this particular sunny day. Anthony is quick to return the smile, as he had done so many times before in the past. He could regard it as a daily occurrence now.
“Indeed, it is.” His response is considerate, his voice moderately even; it’s as if he were trained for this. And Anthony supposed he quite literally is trained for it. “Especially on a day as sweltering as this.”
He can faintly hear in the background a man grumbling incoherently about keeping up the line, and he apologetically (although he doesn’t feel very apologetic) responds to the not-so gentleman behind him. He hastily picks his glass, an internal groan erupting in him when a couple of drops spill onto the earthly grass. At least it had avoided his clothing by its means. Anthony had already begun to walk away, lemonade secured, when he noticed the same lady who had engaged him in a brief conversation engaging in the same direction that he was headed.
“Such events are quite amusing,” Her words are delicate, but they are firm enough for Anthony to know that she stands her ground. She stands ever so beautifully, firm but beautiful, letting her dress flutter slightly into the soft breeze that washes over the course. “I can not say that they were common in my homeland.”
Ah. So that is why Anthony failed to recognize her—a new citizen, or possibly just visiting some family for the season. After all, Mayfair was quite prestigious in its ways if you stood in the high rankings. “So I take that you are not from here?” He questions, even though he already knows the answer.
The lady shakes her head, the hair atop her head bouncing as she does so. “Not quite.” She responded appropriately. She rattles off some place that Anthony had surely never been before, and he nods upon hearing the answer. "I am here visiting, as my cousin kindly offered to host me, and who am I to decline such a gracious invitation?"
The words rolled sweetly off her tongue, as if she were making a harmonious melody. Certainly a clever tongue in her mouth, Anthony could think to himself. “Well then, I must certainly assume that you are here for the season.”
It was an honest question. The lady looked to be in her earlier years of life, if Anthony really had to make a guess. Fair skin, beautiful features, and a voice as gorgeous as the waves in the ocean—what else would she be doing in Mayfair at this time of the year? It only seemed reasonable to make that assumption. He stands correct when she pushes her head down as an agreement, “Yes.” She says, yet she pauses for a beat before continuing her sentence, "Though I must say, it is quite a considerable departure from what I am accustomed to back home.”
"In a manner most agreeable, I trust?" Anthony says, and the lady smiles approvingly. It was quite a sugary smile, the sort that sat well within the presumably older man. It looked as if the course grounds had gotten crowded by tenfold since Anthony had turned his back, making the exertion towards the stands much harder than what it should’ve been.
“Well, yes.” Whereas, the tone of her voice contradicted what her words have stated. The lady’s eyebrows furrow for a mere moment, as if he were contemplating something of sorts. “Nevertheless, it is quite hard.”
He inclines his head. Anthony could somewhat agree with her words—the season was always stressful, a throatful of things to stress and worry about, a million matters to perfect to attract the best of the best. He had never felt too stressed, perhaps when he was swarmed with tasks to complete for the up-and-coming ball or party, but never on his performance at such events. Anthony believed that is why he suddenly threw himself in as an eligible bachelor, and the best if he may add, was so diminishing. "With a lady such as yourself, I must presume it is not exceedingly difficult."
The lady, which Anthony now realizes that he does not know the name of, blushes a shade of pink that could only be described as warm, like a rose pelting in the wind. She laughs graciously, accepting the compliment with ease. “I must confess, I am flattered, Mr…” Her words trail off as she too comes to realization with the fact she does not know how to address the young gentleman.
“Lord Bridgerton.” He introduces, his voice not in any way condescending as many others may take him on to be.
Anthony takes note of the way the lady’s eyebrows raise up in surprise, followed by the rather flushed look that began to tint at her cheeks. "Oh dear, I beg your pardon, my Lord." Tilting her head down hesitantly as if she were unsure of what formality would be the most appropriate. It almost forces a chuckle out of the Viscount.
"And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Anthony continues on as it is only polite to ask so.
"Mm, indeed. How remiss of me not to mention it beforehand…” The lady says, letting out a sort of awkward laugh that could be seen as rather affectionate. “My name is Y/n.” The lady states, followed by a surname that Anthony can faintly remember to be as one of the other Viscounts that lived in the city, although he couldn’t quite say he knew the name all too well. Certainly not one that he had talked to on the occasion.
“I see,” Anthony nods along, a faint smile tainted upon his lips before he even knows it himself. “Charming gentleman your cousin is.” He could not say if the man was truly charming, or a gentleman at all, as he had only read a couple lines about it from the Lady Whistledown paper that his family had received a couple of long weeks ago.
“Charming, indeed.” The words were more so grumbled, as if she didn’t quite agree with the statement. “That is certainly one way to describe him.”
He chuckles at the disdain laced upon her voice. Anthony fairly enjoyed the new sense of emotion—most ladies he had the pleasure of talking with all embellished their compliments in spite of thinking the opposite. Being able to hear an objection that wasn’t sugarcoated heavily; Anthony would think that he notably liked the trait that distinguished Y/n.
The course grounds slowly appear into Anthony’s line of vision as the conversation dies down. The sound of chatter that did come from his or her mouth refilling his ears—excited husbands yelling bets at one another, ladies shaking their heads as so—the look that was etched on their faces would be one that Anthony could appreciate and find humorous.
"I must confess, some of the wagers being placed are rather simplistic in nature." Y/n cuts in through the stillness of their discussion beforehand. A nice conversation starter, but one that would rile many people up. "It appears as though none of these individuals have ever graced a racecourse before! How utterly rash of them to bet upon the favored contender solely because of his popularity."
He can’t help but be taken aback, although once again, her exaggeration was one that could be seen as comical. That is, before he had realized that he himself had also bet upon the favored horse, Nectar, which Anthony assumed the lady was talking about. For a moment, he wonders if her words are pure bullshit, if she was just making conversation with him. It is as if Y/n sees right through him.
“Oh my, do not tell me you have also fallen into the unfortunate trap of betting for Nectar.” Anthony can’t quite place what expression she expresses, but it does not look good. Disappointed, or perhaps pity.
“Naturally, I betted upon him, it is a sensible bet, and he is a horse of sound character who shall undoubtedly finish with victory this afternoon.” He defends, the tone of his voice sounding rather offended at the plain mention of his unwary wager. Something deep down in him wonders if the lady was indeed right, if he really did not know what he was doing. Again, Anthony could not say he was educated well enough, and admittedly, he had bet upon Nectar due to the favorability of his win. “I have a well placed feeling about him.”
“A feeling?” Y/n’s eyebrow cocks up, the smile on her face now more jovial than polite. “Or is it the choosing of the horse that everyone has chosen? Well, I do suppose that adds to the list of husbands who shall be more than disappointed once the race has concluded.”
“I beg your finest pardon, I have made a strategic bet.” His words are more puncuated than before, suddenly relishing within the first person to truly give him some sort of competition that did not stem from his brothers or family, for that matter. “Nectar is a prized steed. He is quite well bred, highly trained, and, as many other people have shown, well favored.”
Y/n tsks, shaking her head as if she were scolding Anthony as his mother and father had done when he was a young boy. “I must assume you have not considered the quality of the racing course and the weather to assess the true potential? Although these sorts of events are not truly common back in my homeland, I do must say that many of these may just be common sense.”
She knows that her words are stretching the truth, that it wasn’t just common sense, but Y/n must admit that she took delight in having a friendly banter. She climbs up onto one of the wooden bleachers, sitting herself upon the heated seat, with Anthony following quickly behind her. “You see, my cousin had kindly explained to me the expectations of the race, and it is said that Nectar raced well at Doncaster; however, the track conditions were far from the same. A firmer course, if you will. While now, over here…” She pauses to wave her hand at the field of grass in front of her view. “It is much softer, and it is a rather humid day. He will much slowdown in the final leg, giving HighFlyer the much easy victory.”
Anthony scoffs. Foolish? Perhaps. Tinted with truth? Also yes. "Are you merely echoing the words your cousin imparted to you earlier?" He argues as well, Anthony never backed down from a challenge, and this lady was surely challenging him.
“And are you merely saying that I do not know about horse racing because I am a woman?” She tilts her head to look directly at Anthony; the grin that is placed strategically on her face was one that he could not argue with. And he is sure of that when he opens his mouth to bite back, but being blatantly unable to respond with something witty. Oh, that shit-eating smirk that was so easily disguised as a polite smile made Anthony oh-so infuriatingly upset. Upset because she knew what she was doing; upset because, well, he was moderately fond of that smile.
“We shall see then.”
Famous last words, because well, he is proved to be utterly wrong. The course of disappointed groans that steamed through the crowd, which Anthony would not admit (but was a part of), as HighFlyer flew his way across the finish line were abominably loud. Nectar staggered behind him moments later, but not before the crowd had seen how winded he was by the heat and conditions.
The lady behind him had laughed in delight, unable to celebrate fully before she must turn towards Anthony to shove it into his face. “I can not say that I have ever beat a viscount before.” Suddenly, all formality that was once there had been gone, destroyed, as if it had never been there in the first place. “I do suppose there is always a first.”
“And a last.” Anthony grumbles under his breath, in hope that Y/n would close off her ears to the harsh criticism. To his luck, she does hear.
“I must concede, you are just like the many men who claim to be gentlemen.” She replies, even though she seemed not to be very upset by the Viscount’s words. If that had been the case, it would have appeared as though Anthony had experienced numerous episodes of frustration—possibly humorous ones, but nonetheless, frustration.. "Unwilling to concede defeat, even when it lies directly at his feet."
“I am able to concede defeat if the defeat deserves to be conceded.” His words are sharp, even though the smile tugging at his face says different to his own jumble of words. Anthony could not quite help it when he sees her eyes light up with something that he could not describe. “If it dares, look me in the eyes.”
“Ah, is that right, my Lord?” She questions, carrying herself with the confidence that he hadn’t seen in forever. An admirable trait indeed, if Anthony must admit. "Does not defeat gaze directly upon you as HighFlyer is crowned the victor of this afternoon's fine race.”
He sighs. Anthony was never one to be dramatic; he always held himself upright and, in his family's words, rather serious. Still, he had to admit that his gasp was a bit dramatic. “Ah… well.” His words trail off slowly, grimacing at the truth of the lady’s words. “I suppose you are… right this time.” The syllables were uttered slowly, followed by another huff of a breath that he could only feel to himself.
She laughs, that beautiful melody of a laugh. While in many cases, it would be regarded as an unpleasant sound unless it was done so delicately, hers was not delicate, nor was it ungracious. It was as if the notes from every music piece ever composed had all come together to form one masterpiece of a harmony, one that ebbed and flowed in all the right ways.
“Oh rejoice! What a sound those words are!” Y/n breathes dreamfully.
The track is far from empty, with many individuals walking over to congratulate the winner, while the others either mourn the losses of their empty wallets, or giggling gleefully over their new-found bundles of heritage. However, the bleachers were starting to thin out, leaving just a select few groups.
There is a sense that weaves through him as he ponders his next move. He could surely just stand himself up, mutter out a respectable goodbye, and leave, yet at the same time, he could not allow himself to just do that. Anthony seemed far better off conversing with this lady than with any other of the ones that he had danced or engaged with in the slightest. The thought made him laugh at his own stupidity, and yet;
"I cannot suppose it would be honorable of me not to inquire if you might attend the Hearts and Flower Ball with me. I trust you have heard of it?" Anthony asks, not just out of politeness but also the small amount of desire he feels for just a beat of a moment. One that felt odd and far too new in his chest, something that he had yet to feel in the weeks that had came, and the weeks yet to come.
The lady showed a glimpse of astonishment, and Anthony wonders if he had made the right decision upon asking her about it in the first place. "My Lord, are you, perchance, inquiring if you wish to take me on a social outing?" Though even she could hear the tiny quiver that was woven, her voice seemed steady as she spoke.
“I… suppose I am, yes.” He stands with his head gently cocked to the right, extending his hand in consolation. Anthony can feel the regret seeping into his words as they were carefully placed, because God, if she came to deny his request, he was sure he could drop dead on the grass at that given moment.
“I would love to.” And Anthony would not be able to stop the sigh of relief that washed over him even if he had tried. The tension that creased his forehead, all the way down to his calves, was quickly overridden with a sense of declaration.
As he wove through the throngs of disassembling guests, waving courteously to the lady that he swore to uncover the mystery of, Anthony finally let himself pry out of dapper smile. For the first time in a while, he felt as if he were winning. Not just a kid-made, pointless game, but something much deeper than he could have ever imagined. Except, this time, he would not allow it to simply just… escape his grasp.
#sir whistledown writes#oh my lordy lord this might be the most boring and shitty piece ive written#i love anthony so much so i posted it for him#god bless you guys#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#x reader#fem reader#bridgerton netflix#bridgerton s3#bridgerton season 3#kate sharma#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fic#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton season 2#imagine
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🌷○•・{Change Of Pace}
♡Luke Castellan x fem!Demeter reader
♥︎Summary: you and Luke are good friends but that’s it, right? || Luke Castellan Blurb!
☆Warning: none!
★A/N: I’ve only read the first book and a bit of the second + the two movies so I’ll be basing Luke off of the series(Charlie Bushnell)
♪ credits: i forgot where I found the divider but it isn’t mine so if someone knows who it belongs to please let me know!<3
+ Barely proof-read🤧
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“I mean he’s cute and all I won’t deny that but I don’t like him like that.” You told your friend in Aphrodite cabin.
“Love, are you sure?” She asked “I mean you two just have this weird connection, not in a bad way of course it’s kinda cute if you ask me.” Your friend huffed.
“Oh I’m sure, he’s just a real good friend you know.” You reassured.
“Sure.” She stated “speak of the devil!” The girl spoke up at the sight of Luke from behind your figure.
You turned around still tense from his sudden arrival.
Sure he made you nervous at times but that’s just cause you really look up to him as a friend, right?
“Oh, hey Luke!” You smiled shifting your position on the bench to face him.
“Hey.” He replied.
“Mind if I steal her for a bit?” He asked your friend.
“Sure, she’s all yours.” The girl said with a smirk.
You felt your face heat up.
You didn’t have a crush on Luke, did you?
You’re just overthinking it.
He looked back at you looking for approval.
You simply nodded with a smile and got up, what else were you going to do?
“So? Where are you taking me Mr. Castellan?” You asked.
“You’ll see, just be patient.” He reassured.
“Okay.” You sighed.
He continued to guide you to this ‘mystery location’, you hope you’ll be able to find your way back but who are you kidding you’d be happy get lost with Luke.
Maybe you had to accept that you may have a little tiny crush on the boy but there no harm in having a crush.
“We’re here.” The boy turned back to you interrupting your thoughts.
“Where exactly is here?” You comment.
“Here, just close your eyes.” He instructed.
“Why?” You questioned.
“Just close ‘em, trust me.” He reassured.
“Okay, okay.” You chuckled.
“Here.” He began to guide you to your location, his hand was placed softly on your waist.
His hand placement and close proximity was driving you crazy, and more so what this so seemed surprise was and when you were going to see it.
“You can open your eyes now.” Luke spoke.
You opened your eyes and you were met with a beautiful array of different kinds of flowers and plants.
“Luke, this is-“ you didn’t have words.
“I know you could easily grow something like this yourself, but when I found this I couldn’t help but think of you.” The boy blushed.
You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless, it felt you were being over dramatic but how else would one of Demeter’s daughters react when faced with a secret garden that’s been here for years maybe.
“It’s beautiful!” You said heading into the small garden.
“Yeah, it is…” All the boy could do was stare at you as he mindlessly agreed.
“Oh god Luke, you’re too sweet!.” You turned to the boy.
“Thanks, I’m glad you like it.” He sighed in relief.
“I more than like it Luke, I absolutely love it thank you so much.” You told the boy as you brought him in for a hug.
He froze for a moment.
It wasn’t often he got flustered.
Especially around his friends.
But you two were different.
“Anytime (Name).”
He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the hug.
It wasn’t often either you had moments like this.
It was nice.
He was nice.
Maybe you had a little more than a crush on Luke Castellan.
And maybe he was head over heels for you too.
But for Luke, you wouldn’t mind.
Neither of you would.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/N: I originally wrote this with Apollo reader in mind but I suddenly changed it to Demeter to fit with the story. Also this is my first time writing for Luke so I hope it wasn’t the worse🤧.<3
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#x reader#pjo#pjo series#pjo tv show#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#charlie Bushnell
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★ THE OTHER WOMAN | LN4/OP81
Scenario: lando norris is in love with his best friend. she doesn’t see it, but everyone else does, and even though lando doesn’t outwardly tell her about his feelings for her, he doesn’t try to hide it. unfortunately for him, she has her eyes on someone else, someone that makes it all the more painful. (requested)
Pairing(s): lando norris x fem!reader, oscar piastri x fem!reader
Warning(s): angst. just gut wrenching angst.
A/N: i learned one thing and it’s that i am NOT built for angst. that being said, i literally made a second part as a fix it fix BUT. its landoscar, which i know may not be everyone’s thing, but if it is your thing, here’s the link 🤭🫶🏻
yn.ln
liked by landonorris, riabish, maxfewtrell, alex_albon, and 128,923 others
yn.ln it’s this sweet boys birthday. my favorite human forever, i love you @/landonorris
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landonorris i love you more
⤷ yn.ln actually impossible 🤓☝🏻
maxfewtrell get someone who looks at you the way lando looks at yn
⤷ norrisnation MAX YOU GET IT KING
rizzciardo yn baby he is in love with you 😭
landonation day 476 of yn not realizing that lando is in love with her
formulanorris HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANDO ❤️
posted november 13, 2022
racingandwags
liked by pierregasly and others
racingandwags oscar piastri is rumored to be dating yn ln, lando norris’s long time best friend after the two showed up to the paddock together recently. what do you think?
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lh44nation now what the hell is pierre doing here 😭
carlandolvr are you so serious that this is happening on the week of landos home race
norrisnation what.
norrisnation no because why is yn looking at oscar the way lando looks at her and why is oscar also looking at her like that what is happening guys this isn’t funny
formulanorris this was NOT on my 2023 bingo card??? surely you guys mean lando and yn lolololol
⤷ rizzciardo i mean for what it’s worth, yn always shows up with lando so maybe this is no different. like she and oscar are just friends showing up together
⤷ rizzciardo reading this back i feel i may have only made it worse
dreamyalbon HELP WHAT IS GOING ON
⤷ formulasargeant silly season is real
papayaforlife babe wake up there is chaos in the house of commons
yn.ln
liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, pierregasly, and 134,562 others
yn.ln my favorite human forever. sm love for this boy.
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oscarpiastri 🧡
⤷ piastrination oscar bleeding orange:
norrisnation notice how lando didn’t comment on this post but he ALWAYS comments on yn’s posts?
⤷ landoland HE DIDNT EVEN LIKE IT PLEASE TELL ME THEY ARE STILL FRIENDS PLEASE
rizzciardo ik yall are upset but pls don’t hate on yn, she hasn’t don’t anything wrong and we don’t even know the details of what’s going on with her and lando or her and oscar
sunnylando ‘favorite human forever’ 🫠💔 iykyk
formulanorris YN HOW COULD YOU FUMBLE LANDO
⤷ formulanorris yall are cute but im so confused rn.
landomania this is insane news to me. i genuinely thought the rumors were just rumors 😭
thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated — dae <3
PART TWO / FIX IT FIC
general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lokietro @spidersophie @minkyungseokie @harrysdimple05 @stopeatread @topguncultleader @vroomvroomverstappen @motorsp0rt @cixrosie @leclercvsx @arkhammaid @vellicora @lovstappen @illicitverstappen
also, you didn’t hear it from me, but the jpg chronicles finale is coming after this 👀
#✩ . op⁸¹ files 🏎️#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 x female reader#formula one smau#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one blurbs#formula one x reader#formula one fic#mclaren formula 1#f1 angst#lando norris angst#lando norris smau#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#✩ . ln⁴ files 🏎️
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☆彡CHOMP★彡
KNY HASHIRA HEADCANONS
BITE FACTOR!
What they do if you randomly bite them♡
FLAME HASHIRA! Kyojuro Rengoku
Awareness: Zero, he doesn’t expect the chomp. He doesn’t react violently though, so don’t worry too much.
Bite Factor: He’s very muscular but when relaxed he’s got a 8/10 on the chew factor. Only a 4/10 if he flexes (which he will if he thinks you’re going to bite, he wants you to think he’s strong).
Best Nibble Points: Bicep (he wants you to), pectorals (tiddies), his ass—
Reaction: He’s gonna either laugh or pop hard, sometimes both. Pick your location wisely. If you bite his ass he’s smacking yours.
SOUND HASHIRA! Tengen Uzui
Awareness: God level. You snuck up on no one. 100% knows what you’re up to, he can hear you licking your teeth. Your ability to chomp will be solely dependent on his mood to allow it.
Bite Factor: Also a very muscular man, jewelry limits chomp, 6/10 not flexing and 3/10 flexing.
Best Nibble Points: Fingers (be gentle he and his wives need all of them), forearm, cheek—
Reaction: He allowed the bite in the first place, so 100% hard. Probably hard before you even bit. If you nibble very gently, he may pat your head.
Bonus! His wives all enjoy this game too, and will play with you and invite you to play with them. They are all 10/10 on bite factor, but vary on awareness and reactions.
STONE HASHIRA! Gyomei Himejima
Awareness: He knows your there, but 100% doesn’t know your intention is to chomp he’s fucking blind. Be careful! He might accidentally pull you off, and that might take your teeth out.
Bite Factor: He’s jacked but has a good soft layer of fluff for a whopping bite factor of 9/10! If he’s flexing, 4/10.
Best Nibble Points: Lips (be gentle and don’t be mean), inner thigh, tummy—
Reaction: If you’re smart and don’t try and take a chunk out of him, he is just curious what you’re up to. Might squish your cheeks and tease you. Might cry. If you chomp too hard and he isn’t prepared, he might push you throw you across the earth.
WIND HASHIRA! Sanemi Shinazugawa
Awareness: I’d say 50/50 he’ll see it coming. If it’s the first chomp, he’s unaware, but he learns quick. You’ll need to start adding in feints to trick him. He will avoid any chomps he thinks are coming his way. He gets embarrassed and then angry.
Bite Factor: Fucking terrible, he squirms and squeals, but he does have good squish… 6/10. Flexing is a given because he tenses up like you’ve put a knife to his throat right when teeth touch flesh.
Best Nibble Points: Love handles (he’s ticklish and it’s funny to hear him shout), hamstring (easier sneak factor), ears—
Reaction: He is .2 seconds away from screaming for mommy Ubuyashiki to tattle on you. He won’t tell you his dick is hard nor will he admit he wants to bite you back. His reactions are genuine and honest, what you see is what you get. 10/10 for cuteness and flushed face when you do get him.
WATER HASHIRA! GIYUU TOMIOKA
Awareness: …none. He’s absolutely defenseless like a newborn kitten. He’s so damn startled and shocked it may leave him out of commission for a little while give him time okay.
Bite Factor: He may look cold but he actually is cold. He’s made of steel. Awful chomps but don’t tell him it’ll hurt his feelings. 5/10 and I’m being generous.
Best Nibble Points: Triceps, palm of hands, neck— (he’ll go feral watch out).
Reaction: What he lacks in chomp factor he makes up for in reaction. Just go ahead and pull your pants down now, it’ll save time. He gets shockingly turned on! Feel free to really sink your teeth into him, he might moan.
SERPENT HASHIRA! Obanai Iguro
Awareness: Low! He doesn’t expect the chomp even when you’ve chomped him before! He might be cautious around you for a few days after but he’ll forget.
Bite Factor: He’s lean and pretty tough sadly, even worse of a chomp than Giyuu. 4/10. I don’t make the rules, oh wait I do.
Best Nibble Points: Shoulders (easy), clavicle, hips— why you down there?!
Reaction: Either comical and you receive a lecture on discipline or he’s melting like butter in a hot pan. He might tie you up and leave you dangling for a while don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.
MIST HASHIRA! Muichiro Tokito
100% platonic, he is a child!
Awareness: Where did he go? He’s gone before you get the chance to chomp 。゚(゚´Д`゚)゚。 If you manage a lucky chomp, count your blessings the kid is quick.
Bite Factor: Lowest on this list! 1/10, he’s got no more baby fat but not enough weight yet to qualify a good chomp factor. Baby Muichiro though would be 100/10 cuz baby cheeks.
Best Nibble Points: NONE don’t bite him weirdos. BABY CHEEKS— I totally bite my nieces cheeks lol
Reaction: If you get a cheek chomp, he’s letting it happen. Be appreciative he’s allowing you near him, be polite to the cats napping and keep your voice down. 2/10 cuz he’s straight faced and not very cute about it.
LOVE HASHIRA! Mitsuri Kanroji
Awareness: She’s actually very aware! All chomps are welcome and adored please bite her.
Bite Factor: ekekekekEKEKEKEKEMEKEEKEKEKEKEKEKEK ♾️/10 like the perfect chomp every time no matter where you chomp. She’s so damn soft but she’s also fairly muscular too, it’s the perfect combination she’s got memory foam thighs.
Best Nibble Points: THIGHS (she’s a little ticklish too, points for the cute giggles), Chest (I said what I said), coochie— (I SAID WHAT I SAID)
Reaction: No cute surprises but she’s very cuddly and sweet. She will nibble back~ ♡
INSECT HASHIRA! Shinobu Kocho
Awareness: Woman has eyes in the back of her head I swear, no surprises for her. Any and all chomps are proofed and vetted. Good luck.
Bite Factor: A perfect 10/10! No surprises though, she’s small and soft, perfect bite material get it like wife.
Best Nibble Points: Anywhere. Literally, I’m not joking. If she lets a nibble through, she’s got plans for you.
Reaction: Just go ahead and put the collar on already, you’ve initiated play at this point. That sweet smile :3
#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#head canons kny#Hashira head canons#chomps#KNY HASHIRA HEADCANONS#gyomei himejima#Kyojuro rengoku#Tengen Uzui#Obanai Iguro#muichiro tokito#shinobu kocho#Giyu Tomioka#sanemi shinaguzawa#mitsuri kanroji#fluff#cute#I’m so tired
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Hi, may I please request BSD men with an s/o who has the ability to regenerate and as a result, is rather reckless in battle because they're functionally immortal?
-Sincerely, 💋
confidence in conflict
synopsis - your ability gave you a great confidence in battle, but maybe that wasn't a good thing
includes - ranpo, sigma, ayatsuji, natsume
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, hints toward death/getting hurt, wc - 601
ranpo edogawa ★↷
↪ranpo himself doesn't normally do field missions involving conflict to no ones surprise. the only times he really goes is if he needs something else for the case.
↪so normally most of the time he demands either you or a coworker you went with to know if you're okay, whoever he finds first.
↪ however because you could regenerate he would ask how reckless you were. he didn't really have to worry about you getting hurt but if you ever put yourself in dangerous situations because of your ability he would worry.
↪and he wouldn't hesitate to scold you. it wasn't really scolding, more making you feel guilty for making him worry. but atleast he could find comfort in knowing no matter how far you would be you would be okay.
sigma ★↷
↪sigma was rather indifferent about combat. he knew it would become unavoidable in some situations but he would also stave it off for as long as possible. it wasn't his favoured option.
↪but you were on the opposite end of the spectrum. your ability gave you a great sense of confidence in combat and didn't pick your fights wisely, opting to engage in fights whenever you had the chance.
↪and you were reckless in the fights themselves. this initially made sigma worry constantly, he had finally found someone he wanted to believe would never use him and he could trust - he didn't want to lose that, lose you.
↪but when he came to know of your ability he felt almost a false confidence. he could feel slightly better that you probably wouldn't be gravely hurt but he knew anything could render your ability useless - especially fatal wounds.
↪he would always tell you to be careful. he didn't want to lose the only person he could believe wouldn't use him.
yukito ayatsuji ★↷
↪ ayatsuji was a rather cocky man, that was no surprise to anyone. he didn't really enage in combat however as he found little use for it and anyone he wanted rid off... well his ability could take care of that.
↪and he couldn't help the smug grin that formed when he witnessed how reckless you were in battle. mainly because he knew why, your ability.
↪he found it rather interesting that you had such confidence because of your ability and he couldn't blame you, he'd probably do the same. but when it came to being closer to you he'd hide his worry.
↪he also had confidence in your ability to keep you safe but he knew life was cruel. there was nothing stopping something drastic happening that could render your ability useless and your recklessness would finally catch up to you.
natsume soseki ★↷
↪natsume lived most his life in the quiet solitude only found living as a cat. he knew he had quite a few undesirable people looking for him and so he preferred that life rather than seeking out the conflicts they'd want.
↪and while he'd urge you to do the same, he knew he couldn't stop you entirely from rushing into a conflict without a care in the world. perhaps he did actually like that about you, one of your charms per say.
↪he undestood that you had great confidence in your ability and he did too but he'd still scold you. everytime you threw yourself recklessly into battle would earn you a light scolding.
↪the last thing he'd ever want was for you to get hurt, or worse. he'd rather throw himself into a conflict with those who want him gone than see you get hurt.
#💋 anon↩#x reader#x gender neutral reader#bsd x reader#bsd x gender neutral reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you#bsd x you#bsd ranpo#ranpo x reader#bsd sigma#sigma x reader#bsd ayatsuji#yukito ayatsuji x reader#ayatsuji x reader#bsd natsume#natsume x reader
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Appreciate The Company | Kuai Liang x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ “Come a little closer” With Kuai Liang please? ❞
: ̗̀➛ You and Kuai Liang both have a crush on one another, and it's only thanks to Johnny Cage that either of you find out about it.
trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ swearing
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
spotlight fundraiser : ̗̀➛ Help Mahmoud and Family Rebuild their life
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
You watched from afar as Kuai Liang gave a lesson to his men; perched on a rock in a white fluffy coat that Johnny had said made you look like a stand-in for an East 17 music video, you stood out easily.
The little wave that Kuai Liang gave you between breaks never failed to make your heart skip and pound amongst your ribs, worried that they might break sooner or later; you couldn't tell him, though.
Kuai Liang was a Grandmaster, he was a man of authority and respect and you were... Johnny Cage's friend. Nothing exactly special, nothing exactly deserving of a man of Kuai Liang's calibre.
Your phone went off, and you checked it to see a message from Johnny; he kept trying to get you to tell him how you felt, and as your self-appointed wingman, Johnny wasn't going to go two minutes without posting you about it - you weren't sure what was worse between that and Kung Lao backing him up on it.
You decided to ignore it when you noticed the man of every single hour coming over to you; you tried not to grin, your face feeling warm as you cleared your throat and curtly nodded at him.
"Grandmaster."
"Please," he said gruffly. "Kuai Liang."
You shook your head. "Oh, no, I couldn't, I-"
"Why not?" He frowned, furrowing his brows together.
You shrugged as you rubbed the back of your neck, a little embarrassed. "I, I just mean, y'know, you're the erm, the grand Mister- I mean Grandmaster! I, I couldn't do you a dist, disrespect like that."
Casually, Kuai Liang gestured to the rock beside you. "May I?"
You nodded, moving over a little. "Yeah! Yeah, sure thing, I mean, I mean, this is your, your home after all and I'm just-"
"More than a guest," he told you softly with a smile. "This is your home, too."
"I couldn't, I-"
"Why are you always so nervous to speak to me?" He asked quietly, almost like he was saddened by the thought.
You cleared your throat as you tried to steady your words. "I just, I... well, you know, you're... you're very... very nice."
Kuai Liang smiled a little as he patted your knee gently. "Johnny Cage told me."
Your eyes went wide as your jaw dropped; gawking at him as all ability to form words completely left you. Stunned was not quite the word, a massive underexaggeration.
He laughed softly, scratching his bearded chin. "Don't worry, it was either he was going to tell me... or he was going to tell you. I didn't want you to have that embarrassment."
"But..." You took a moment to steady your breath. "But you... you feel the same?"
He nodded, holding his hand out. "Would you please come a little closer?"
You shakily took his hand and allowed him to tug you closer as he took your other hand and gazed at you. He didn't look, he fucking gazed.
"Grandmaster..."
"Kuai Liang," he protested with a gentle laugh. "Listen... I've never... I've never thought for once about romance, and... and I am rusty in that department. But for you? I would give it a try."
You couldn't believe what you were hearing, feeling as if you were going to put the back of your hand to your forehead and fall backwards like all those silly cliche murder mystery films. "You... wait... you don't... you don't..."
"I feel the same as you do," he said with a soft laugh. "Would you... allow me to court you?"
You nodded slowly. "Erm. Okay. Yeah."
He gently took your hand again, and softly kissed the back of it just below your knuckles. "I have a free day today - Raiden is going to give my men some lessons on self defence... would you like to come on a walk with me?"
You nodded again. "Okay."
Slowly, Kuai Liang stood up, and gave you his hand to hold as he smiled; when you fell into step beside him, he grinned as he felt you swing your hand a little bit. He guided you through the woods, letting you stop to admire a particularly interesting looking few plants; he wasn't expecting you to ask him to catch a snowball and throw it back.
He laughed softly when it exploded against your hands.
"Is this your idea of flirting?" He asked, tugging you close. He realised he had brought you too close when he could not take his eyes from your mouth.
You laughed nervously. "Too much?"
He shook his head, the tip of his nose grazing against yours. "Take this at your own pace, my love. If this isn't our first date, then so be it. I don't mind."
"I am just so fucking nervous," you breathed out. "I don't wanna fuck up, and I don't think you deserve me because I'm just some... some randomer Johnny introduced you to and... and I just don't think I'm good enough, and-"
He grabbed your face and kissed you softly; your hands went to his wrists, and you kissed him back as you smiled. It was all the reassurance that you needed as you laughed softly.
"Sorry," you whispered.
He shook his head. "Was that alright?"
You nodded as you licked your lips. "It was... it was alright, yeah."
"Can I..." he paused to swallow thickly. "Can I do it again?"
You nodded, a little bit more warmed up to the idea. "Please do."
He kissed you with the same chaste softness, and when you smiled into it, so did he.
"Shall we keep walking?" He whispered. "I'll let you throw more snowballs to me - maybe I can even make them a little tougher so they won't explode against your hands?"
You laughed as you nodded eagerly. "I would like that... maybe... when we get back, can I, erm... can I share your bed? Not in that way! I just mean, you know... take a nap with you?"
Kuai Liang grinned as he linked his arm with yours and fell into step beside you. "I would appreciate the company."
#mlem writes#kuai liang x reader#kuai liang x you#kuai liang x y/n#kuai liang x yn#kuai liang imagine#kuai liang fanfiction#kuai liang fanfic#kuai liang fic#kuai liang#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat x you#mortal kombat x y/n#mortal kombat x yn#mortal kombat imagine#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat fanfic#mortal kombat fic#mortal kombat#mk x reader#mk x you#mk x y/n#mk x yn#mk imagine#mk fanfiction#mk fanfic#mk fic#mk#sub zero x reader#sub zero x you
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Hi!! For all those who are tired of all this shit (myself included)
(English is not my first language! There may be grammatical or/and punctuation mistakes)
.•★•.
★ It was one of those days when everything just seemed too much. The sky was too gray, plus it had snowed overnight and you could already feel how you'd have to trudge through streets piled with nasty, sticky snow with ice hiding underneath. The coffee seemed too bitter, and when you added just a little extra sugar, it tasted like a mishmash of all the disgusting sweets in the world (the urge to throw the mug out the window has never been so tempting). The footsteps of the neighbors from above seemed too loud. The disadvantages of living in high-rise buildings are cardboard walls. Yes, it was one of those days. And every time in the midst of that "too much" you felt "not enough". Not enough sleep, although you definitely definitely slept your fair share. Not attractive enough because of which you spent more time on your makeup than usual (you ended up just washing off the end result because you didn't like it and just did a "no makeup" makeup look). And unfortunately, even Leopold's presence didn't help brighten the morning of this lousy day.
★ Leopold, for his part, did not immediately realize it, because at first everything felt as usual with your morning grumpiness. He didn't realize it until the two of you sat down to breakfast. The way you barely got the words out of your mouth said that you just wanted this day to be over quickly. You even recoiled from his kiss on your cheek. He knew that you were extremely detached, both emotionally and physically, on days like this, but it still hurt his feelings a little(
★ On days like this, he tries not to bother you too much. He does everything as usual, but he tries not to be too intrusive, tries to give you more space. But tonight when you get home, he sees that you're on edge. And he just... doesn't know what to do. He wants to come up to you, hold you close and tell you that everything is fine, that he is here for you. But on the other hand, he's afraid that it will make things worse. That's why he can't find a place for himself. He's really worried.
★ The last drop of your boiling frustration is a fallen spoon. You'd think, what's the big deal? But instead of that spoon, you fell too. You couldn't take it. Things aren't going the way you want them to today. Everything is falling out of your hands, even that damn spoon.
Leopold came running at the sound of your sobs. You were sitting on the kitchen floor, crying, almost choking. He felt his heart sink into his stomach.
"Hey, hey, hey." he sat down next to you, examining you for any injuries, "Are you hurt? You okay?"
No, you obviously weren't okay. You were tired. Everything seemed so irritating, so hard on you. You just couldn't hold it in anymore.
His stomach twisted from your sobs. He'd never seen you like this before, so he was confused, not knowing what to do. So he did what his gut told him to do. His arms wrapped around your tear-streaked body, pulling you against his chest. He sighed in relief when he felt you cling to him, accepting his embrace. His palm slowly stroked your back in a soothing manner. He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, whispering into your hair.
"It's okay. It's gonna be okay."
"I'm so tired." you've managed to squeeze out of yourself.
"I know, I know. And you're doing great. You're very strong. Thank you for all your hard work."
The words, meant to comfort you, made you cry even harder. It's been so long since you've heard that. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd been praised. And with the warmth of his body, you just fell apart. Everything that had accumulated during the day and more, you cried with your tears, which soaked into Leopold's t-shirt with a dark stain.
★ You don't know how much time you spent here on the cold tile of the kitchen. The only thing that left you grounded was his whispers and his warm, strong embrace. He knew you were strong, and he knew that even the strongest person can break. And he was willing to be here for you, to be your shoulder to cry on (literally and figuratively), to be your pillow of safety if you fell.
"I'm here, my princess. I'm here for you."
(Masterlist)
#kate & leopold#leopold mountbatten#leopold mountbatten x reader#leopold#leopold x reader#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#headcanon
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bite.
★ what kind of girlfriend invites you to some bonfire in the middle of the forest only to leave you there? a shitty girlfriend, that's who. now, you're kind of buzzed and lost. thankfully, you spot a cabin. hopefully, the people there can help you out.
a/n: mom says it's my turn with the wolf pack!! here's another long thing but this time it's for the wolfie pack that ive been promising for a while now! hopefully it lives up to your guys expectations LOL i really love these yanderes and the werewolf lore i sprinkled in is my own brand of crazy
for those in disbelief, wondering how does this fit in my lil city. well, there's a forest at the outskirts of the city and i want there to be werewolves so there's werewolves!! got inspired by @not-a-bot-just-shy and their poly wolf pack so please check theirs out too!
while i was writing this, i decided that it got like really long so i decided to write a few more parts LOL im so sorry ive been slapping you guys with so many different chaptered stuff! but i hope itll be worth it!
part one (here) ★ part two ★ (chew.) ★ extras (bite and chew.) ★ extras (taste) ★ part three ★ (swallow.) ★ part four (digest.)
pairing: poly werewolves x male reader word count: 3475 warning: bottom reader has male parts and pronouns, reader is implied to be attracted to both genders, reader may be under the influence of alcohol, reader may have a shitty girlfriend, yanderes may be under the influence of the moon? wild, polyamorous ending (all three with the reader)
You grumbled, pushing past branches and leaves as you stomped around the forest, angry at your girlfriend for basically ditching you. Well, not ditching you. But, she did invite you to this stupid bonfire only to force you to drink and then ignore you the entire night.
She was the kind of girlfriend who was super into the full moon, tarot cards and mystic readings so she thought it would be fun to run around half naked tonight, thinking maybe something witchy and magical would happen.
You thought it meant having a hot make out session in front of a sexy bonfire so, of course, when she begged you to come, you agreed.
You were unfortunately wrong.
She was probably with that stupid buff friend of hers, draping herself all over him. So what if you couldn't tell whether or not you were a 'Sagittarius rising' or whatever and he could? You couldn't help but be annoyed at the thought of the two of them having fun.
You wouldn't call it cheating but it was definitely something.
You had stormed out in anger, hoping your girlfriend would care enough to chase after you. Unfortunately, she didn't even care enough about you to do that.
Or, even worse, she didn't notice that you'd left at all.
You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and glanced at the time and battery. It was getting really late and your phone was almost dead. Damn. You didn't have any signal either so no hopes of calling someone for help.
Why were you so petty and dramatic anyway?
You heard a thump and your heart jumped into your throat. You looked around, scared as all hell, only to realise there was light in front of you.
You hurried forward, hoping to whatever higher power there was that it was civilization. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Fortunately, it was some sort of rustic looking house, large enough to fit a big family.
The thumping was from someone chopping some wood.
He looked buff, like a weightlifter with a little bit of pudge. He was a ways away from you but you could tell he was definitely taller than you, with the messiest ginger hair you had ever seen.
The stranger was wearing a tight worn down tank top and jeans which, honestly, he made look really good.
You hadn't even gotten close before the guy whacked his axe down, looking around the clearing like he was searching for something and, as if he'd heard you, his head snapped right to you.
You flinched but decided just coming out right then was less suspicious than hiding.
"Uhm! Hello!" You stepped forward, face and ears feeling a little hot from embarrassment "I'm really sorry to bother you but I'm like so lost and I just need directions--"
"You're not supposed to be here." He suddenly snapped and it made you take a step away from him, your eyes fluttering from one of his bulging muscles to the other.
If he wanted to snap you like a twig, he could easily do it.
"Right," you held your hands up as a sort of sign of surrender, "I totally get that but my friends-- We have a bonfire nearby-- Well, I don't really know how nearby-- I got lost--"
He seemed to see how frantic you got because he sighed and nodded, holding his hand out "C'mon, there's no way anyone would find their way through the forest at night."
"Stay the night and we'll drive you to Lovelock in the morning." He wrapped an arm around your shoulders when you got close enough though, from the tone in his voice, he didn't seem very happy.
"You can call me Mel. I live here with my partners, Leo and Sam." He guided you to the door and opened it for you "Sorry I'm a bit messy, was trying to cut wood for kindling."
"All good! Thanks for housing me. Sorry I'm being such a bother." You bowed your head a little, very apologetic since he seemed so inconvenienced.
Then, you didn't know if it was the alcohol in your system or if it was just from how good-looking the guy is but you suddenly felt the urge to lean against him and giggle "You know, I'm not entirely convinced this isn't some elaborate mirage."
"Mirage?" He looked understandably confused as he easily held up your body which practically draped itself on him.
You nodded, sighing almost dramatically "I was stuck in that forest for forever! I thought I'd never find my way! And I feel like super-sexy--mean-muscle-lumberjack is the exact fantasy my mind would conjure up."
He seemed to realise he was being a bit stand-offish or something (probably from the fact you described him as a mean muscle lumberjack) because his personality did a complete switch "Oh, ummm, I apologise. Sorry for being weird, my partners and I aren't really-- em, in the state for having guests--"
Just as the two of you finally made it through the front door, Mel definitely much more easily than you, the sound of someone else caught your attention.
"Melk--" Speak of the devil, a fluffy ashen haired head peaked out of one of the doorways leading further into the house, blue bespectacled glasses peering at you "Who's the twunk?"
You felt your cheeks grow warm. Twunk? You were definitely more hunk than twink. What even constituted as twink anyway? You doubted you were small or thin enough! In fact, if either of you were the twink, it would've been him, with his lithe model body!
He was like an exact opposite to Mel; where Mel was tanned and muscled, this stranger was pale, of average height and looked like he could shove you a little at most.
Differences aside, he both of them were absolutely handsome. It made you feel a little left out. Were you on some movie set?
"Leo, don't be rude. He's our guest." Mel placed both his broad palms on your shoulders, introducing you before giving you a little nudge forward "And this is ou-- umm, my partner, Leonard. He's a pain in the ass but he grows on you."
The little stumble in Mel's sentence went completely unnoticed to you but the sudden weird expression on Leonard's face didn't.
Still, you didn't want to be rude to someone who was putting up with you for a night so you smiled as sweetly as you could "Hi, really nice to meet you!"
It was obvious Leonard didn't think the same because his smile was obviously forced "Nice to meet you too!"
Then, he hurried off and you could hear his sock-clad feet thumping through the wooden floors of the house "Saaam!"
"I'm so sorry about him." Mel pulled you to him, your back against his chest, and leaned forward, apologetic expression on his face.
You just chalked it up to him being a really touchy person and smiled nervously, nodding "It's all good! It's totally understandable, I came out of nowhere, after all!"
That polite look on Mel's face vanished for a second, replaced with a look that was gone too fast for you to place. Thankfully, you didn't think you had to worry about it because Mel was helping you take off your shoes and leading you to the kitchen.
"You must be starving." He pulled out a chair for you "Let me heat something up for you."
"Handsome and polite..." You murmured, your hand rubbing at your aching and empty stomach before, a bit more loudly, you said: "No, I can't possibly ask you to feed me too!"
"It's really nothing, just pressing a few buttons on a microwave." Mel waved off your concerns, grin on his face as he did just that; sticking a glass tupperware container in the microwave and setting it to some arbitrary time.
You sighed and relented; mostly because you were definitely still hungry and buzzed from the alcohol. You wanted nothing more than food in your tummy.
As you were taking in the yummy smell of food heating in the microwave, there was the cacophony of hurried steps on wooden floor before Leonard and a man you didn't know appeared in a doorway.
He was also gorgeous. Goes to show that good looking people flocked together. He had black shaggy hair in a low pony and a noticeable scar on his upper lip but it didn't take away from his pretty face.
He even had two moles under his left eye which made him look even more beautiful (if that were even possible).
He was like a middle man; not exactly twink-ish like Leonard but not exactly buff like Mel. Definitely on the more muscular side, though. Definitely bigger. He could probably bend you in half, that was for sure.
"Leo said--" The man burst in before turning absolutely dark red in the face upon laying eyes on you, an almost inhuman whine leaving his lips "Hello."
"Hello." You grinned at him, finding his actions way more funny than weird "You must be Sam, right? Nice to meet you."
"Isamu. Y-You can call me Sam." He nodded, agreeing.
Then, to continue his train of weird actions, he bowed at the waist, still looking flustered, before scurrying away. Leonard snickered, looking especially mischevious before following after him.
"What's up with all of you and your partners looking supernaturally gorgeous?" You whispered conspiratorially to Mel.
Instead of asking, he just laughed, all deep and rumbly, like you'd said a particularly funny joke.
You pouted, unsure if you'd really said something that was worth laughing at that much.
"You were at a bonfire, you said?" Mel said instead, opening the microwave to pull the glass tupperware out, whatever food in it obviously steaming.
You nodded, excited at the prospect of food "Yeah, my girlfriend invited me but then she ditched me to go hang out with some buff guy."
"Jokes on her, I guess, I found an even buffer, hotter guy to hang out with instead." You grinned at him, looking quite like the cat that got the cream.
Mel just let out another smaller laugh, putting the tupperware container with a plastic spoon and fork in front of you.
You were a little awed by the fact that he could touch the hot glass but chalked it up to the fact that he was just really tough.
The food was just fried rice (which was honestly more fried vegetables than rice and it made you almost laugh) and what you guessed was grilled chicken with teriyaki sauce. Aside from the vegetables in the rice, there was also broccoli.
Thankfully, there was a lot of chicken so there wasn't too many vegetables.
"Make sure to eat your vegetables." He sat in front of you, looking like he was holding back a smirk.
You pouted at him but rolled your eyes and speared a small broccoli branch and put it in your mouth. Then, you made an exagerrated 'MMM' sound to show him how tasty you thought it was.
He laughed again but, this time, it sounded fake "Sorry, I always have to remind Leo to eat his vegetables. It becomes habit after awhile."
"Understandable." You gave a curt nod "I'm bad at eating healthy so I can relate to Leo."
"Well, you definitely won't be eating badly under my roof." Mel crossed his arms (which made his biceps absolutely bulge) before leaning back in his chair, an almost arrogant expression on his face.
"Good think I'll only be living one night under this roof, huh?" You joked back, thinking that was the right thing to say.
Instead of the laugh you expected, that strange expression was back on Mel's face. You stopped mid-bite, looking at him curiously, a worried expression on your face "Did I say something wrong?"
"No." The expression was gone quickly, like before, and his polite grin was back.
He sat up again, his arms uncrossing and his hand reaching over to cover yours on the table. You just grinned at him, confused by the gesture but figured, like you thought before, he was just a touchy guy.
"Sam, Leo, come here and hang out with our new guest!" Mel suddenly yelled, making you flinch a bit with how unnaturally loud his voice got.
"Sorry." His hand tightened around yours, apologetic expression on his face as his thumb rubbed comforting circles onto the side of your hand "Didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay, just got surprised!" You waved off his concern as you smiled and shrugged his hand off so you could properly eat. You didn't want to admit it but his touch had your heart fluttering wildly in your chest!
"Here, you were at the bonfire to have fun right? We can have our own fun here." Mel wolfishly grinned at you, his eyes alight with a playful look on his face "We have a couple of cases of beer here if you want?"
"Sure." You looked eager at the offer, nodding your head quickly. Usually, you wouldn't have accepted, Mel being a stranger and all, but you were already a bit inebriated and he was just so handsome that he convinced you easily.
He stood just as Isamu and Leonard entered, both looking flustered and weird.
Of course, excited by the prospect of getting more drunk and forgetting your problems with a bunch of hot strangers, you gestured for them to come sit next to you, not at all minding their weirdness.
Isamu quickly sat next to where Mel was sitting, his back ramrod straight and his hands in his lap. If you had a protractor, you were sure he would measure at ninety degrees exactly.
Leonard, on the other hand, looked relaxed and almost cocky as he sat next to you, even going so far as to scoot the chair closer.
"Mel said he was going to get some beer, do you want to drink with us?" You asked them happily and Leonard made a face like he was disgusted with the suggestion while Isamu immediately nodded.
"Our handsome guest here was just telling me his girlfriend ditched him for someone else." Mel walked over, two bottles of beer in each hand "We can't have him being sad over that right? We have to help him forget all about that stupid bitch."
You scowled, feeling as if maybe you should defend your girlfriend. Mel couldn't just randomly call her a bitch like that, right?
But then, he literally flicked the caps off of the beer bottles like they were made of paper and you thought maybe, a muscly hot guy like him was allowed a few red flags.
He handed you a bottle and you took a fat swig before giggling "Thank you so much for taking me in and for taking care of me like this! I feel so bad for imposing on you guys! You guys are so wonderful!"
Leonard leaned against you, your shoulders bumping against each others' "Don't worry about it. In fact, it's really our pleasure!"
You grinned before wrapping an arm around Leonard and pulling him close, completely missing the look the three of them shared with each other.
Before you knew it, you were just knocking them back, swapping happy stories with the three of them.
Apparently, Mel first moved out here and built the house with the money he inherited with his family. The family itself seemed like a sore subject but he looked entirely too happy to rant about how he made the house.
Then, Isamu came next when he got lost trying to find his dog? The dog died a couple of years later since she was already a senior dog but the two hit it off and started dating almost immediately after Mel helped him find the old geezer.
After Isamu's dog died and he graduated college, he moved in and they literally found Leonard who had tried running away from his overly controlling parents.
When Leonard graduated college, he moved in too. Now, the three of them lived together. The only one of them that really commuted was Leonard but not that far since he worked at a cafe pretty much near the edge of the forest.
You awed and gushed over their relationship, absolutely enamoured by how sweet it was that they all found each other.
At least, that was the last thing you remembered.
"You're a little bit of a light-weight, aren't'cha?" Mel laughed and you felt his entire chest rumble under your palms, his collar bone hard and cozy under your cheek.
"Huh?" You hummed, a little confused.
You got the gist that he was carrying you somewhere. You could feel his big, warm hands on your waist, his fingers almost sneaking underneath your clothes and his rather noticeable nails tickling your skin.
You could also feel your feet stumbling a little on the floor so you knew he wasn't carrying you.
"Hey, pay attention!"
You snapped into reality a bit there, looking around. You weren't in the kitchen anymore. In fact, you were standing in the middle of a living room, right in front of a coffee table.
Mel's hands were all over you and Isamu was right next to you, fretting about whether or not you were going to fall over. The only one not touching you was Leonard who had his arms crossed, looking at you annoyed.
"Oh, sorry." Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand what was happening "I don't know what's going on with me, I just--"
"It happens to the best of us." Mel waved your apology off, wolfish grin on his face as if he was quite proud of himself "Nobody can out-drink me, after all."
"I feel like none of you are drunk at all! Just me..." You groaned, forehead pressed against the crook of Mel's neck, arm around him tightening just a little bit.
Even with all of your strength, he didn't even budge one bit.
Isamu just chuckled nervously, his warm hand comforting as it rubbed up and down your back "Call it a buff guy's fast metabolism."
"Leonard isn't even buff!" You pouted at Isamu, your head suddenly flinging back to lean against his shoulder, looking at him with the sweetest puppy eyes.
Isamu stuttered, cheeks reddening "L-Leo didn't drink, di-didn't you see?"
You turned your head a little, cheek still resting against Isamu's shoulder as you squinted at Leonard.
Your memory was so hazy now, after the number of bottles you drank. You couldn't really remember how many bottles Leonard drank.
Or, really, how many bottles you or anyone drank.
"I think I need to lay down." You huffed, moving to go to the couch.
Before you could, Mel wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you close, his lips brushing against your ear "Woah, there, watch for the table."
You felt your ear immediately turn hot and so did your cheeks. You knew it definitely wasn't the alcohol either because you felt the heat between your legs a little too.
You cursed the three of them (especially Mel) for being so sexy.
Then, you looked down, glaring at the offending piece of furniture. You didn't think you were about to trip on it but it must've moved to foil you on your way.
"Thank you." You turned your head and, as you did, you underestimated how close Mel was and accidentally brushed your lips against the corner of his.
Instead of apologising, you just giggled and escaped his grasp when his arm went slack. You practically dove into the couch, unfolding the what felt like dozens of comfortable soft looking blankets and scattering the pillows.
You started arranging them around you, forming a little nest of sorts. You figured the giant sectional was where they'd put you up for the night so you might as well get comfortable.
You thought you heard the three of them muttering but you got so focused on getting your sleeping arrangements right that you couldn't find it in yourself to pay much attention.
It was wild to even see the sectional! You definitely couldn't complain! The thing could fit the four of you easy and then some! You would sleep comfortably by yourself!
"Well then!" Mel suddenly cleared his throat, making you flinch and turn your head to him (reminding him oddly like an adorable meerkat) "I guess we should leave you to get settled..."
In your daze, you missed both Isamu and Leonard huffing and shoving at Mel but you definitely didn't miss the way Mel took a step back, as if more than happy to leave.
Immediately, your eyes watered. "Wait, you didn't want to hang out more?"
The three of them panicked.
"Oh, no, no, you just looked like you were getting comfortable--"
"I-It's just that w-we just didn't want to get in your way--"
"Way to go, meat-head, you dumbass--"
You just crossed your arms and sniffled, trying to look as angry as possible "I'll forgive you if you hang out with me a little longer."
"I may be a little... emmm, inebriated but I'm not sleepy yet." You added, a little proud of yourself for being able to use such a big word.
Mel chuckled a little but nodded "Okay, sounds good. What do you want to do then?"
"Let's watch a movie!" You immediately pointed to the TV, grin on your face as you moved to lean against the back of the sectional, pillow in your arms and blanket draped over your lap. "C'mon, sit next to me."
At first, all three of them seemed to hesitate but, when Mel sat next to the arm of the sofa, Isamu and Leonard quickly followed.
Like in the kitchen, Leonard sat the closest to you, his shoulder bumping against yours. Isamu sat next to you too but he sat rather stiffly and, lastly, Mel sat on the other side of Isamu, his elbow resting on the arm of the sofa.
"What movie should we watch?"
#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere#oc x reader#male oc#werewolf x reader#werewolf oc x reader#male werewolf x reader#melchior#isamu#leonard#chaptered#alcohol tw#male darling
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I don't know what to do without you~ Lyney X gn!reader
"Please, I'm still the same Lyney you fell in love with."
T/W- angst with no comfort, hurt, yelling all the fun stuff
★Navigation★
Tag list form!
You were taken aback by Furina, the hydro archon's own comments. He'd lied to you. Lyney, the love of your life, had lied. Sure, he was a magician who guarded secrets, but this was different. How could he not have told you?
"Tell me. Aren't you and Lynette from the House of Hearth?" Her smirk made you sick. Lyney, on the other hand, made you feel even worse. His captivating smile had faded, and he was left with a broken expression. He was staring at you, trying to locate life in your now-dead eyes. All you know is that you were holding back tears.
How could he?
Why would he?
You walked out of the courthouse, unconcerned about how people looked at you.
You tried to focus on something other than your partner, but he was all you could think about. The way he looked deflated, defeated. Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks, and holding them back was difficult. And were not in the mood for people to see you cry.
The court was adjourned about 20 minutes later, and the first person out was, of course, Lyney. His normally smiling appearance was filled with tears, matching the marking on his face. What had he done, Archons? He dashed towards you but did not hug nor kiss you. He always knew when you needed your space and never pushed it.
"I understand you may not want to talk to me right now…"
"No, Lyney I don't want to speak to you."
His expression showed his sadness. Lyney excelled at expressing his feelings but struggled to conceal them.
"Please, I'm still the same Lyney you fell in love with."
"You lied to me! You know I despise the Fauti."
"That's precisely why I didn't tell you."
Now the tears began to fall. Lyney was merely upset, whereas you were angry and upset.
His pleading look almost convinced you to take him back. You had to turn your back to prevent yourself from doing so. Of course, you still had feelings for him; who wouldn't? You were only hurt because he didn't tell you. But it's not like you'd be happy if he'd told you before all of this. A sudden gust of wind went past you both.
You realised you had a crowd. Everyone who was present during the spectacular court trial was there. They were watching every second, lapping up the drama, like a dog to water. Something else you despised about Fontaine.
"Love, Please-"
"Just stop Lyney." You had given up fighting his claims.
Although you couldn't see his face, you could guess what it looked like. Dull, gloomy, and lacking in charm or his sparkle.
"Y/N, I didn't lie, I just left out bits of the truth." Hearing your name from him hurt because he typically called you by a pet name.
"Important bits, Lyney!" Your voice began to shake. "We're done, I don't want to talk to you again."
"Love…"
"Don't."
By this point, there was no stopping the tears.
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#gn reader#angst#genshin angst#lyney#lyney genshin#lyney genshin impact#lyney x reader#genshin x reader#genshin oneshots#no comfort#hurt#mitski#genshin imagines#genshin spoilers#genshin fanfic#genshin onehshot#my work
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Smg4: smg4 doesn't meme for 1 second
Mostly Gay Boys talk / and well lil bit of crew talk
SPOILER ALERT!
The crew convinced three to take four in for a therapy session. Tho that didnt solve his problems on complete brain rot with all of the memes.
Three did try his best to make him stay a bit focused on the topic they were meant to discuss with four's own meme problems.
And that didn't work-
- after smg4 was sent to meme rehab -
Everyone in the crew were sitting in the gaming room watching some tv, they were seen bored as ever without smg4.
Even just a small glimpse with each memeber entirely they've missed smg4 as well. He was their friend, their leader.
Shroomy came in with the mention of "among us" everyone- as in EVERYONE looked at where smg4 is supposed to be sitting at- reminded them the times when he would laugh at couple of meme jokes.
It is pretty much saddened by the crew how worse it could be in a day without smg4 is by at their side could make them feel miserable.
Then Meggy mentioned about missing smg4...
You know who responded to that?
Three himself...
"Yeah...like, if... er... smg4's stupid humor... like actually... made our lives more exciting...and we didn't like... realize it or something?"
"We're going over to that facility... to get SMG4 back!"
Smg3 was the one who knocked the door, he wanted him to come back. Even the crew also needs smg4 back because he wasn't just any other leader. He was already part of them as well.
They could all tell so, even for smg3 too.
Smg3's character development has taken him way more better to where he'd come far off being the evil villain he used to be before then coming to how much important he chose his own path.
"Hi, how are you" gave them the shock on their faces. Like they felt it was already too late to take back the treatment he was given while he was away.
"Woah smg4! Look at the phone! Wow, sk---di! Yeah you like this! Wooh! Sk---di t--l-t! Hehe. Stinky, woaaaaahh!" ★(I had to censor this because I hate reading nor hearing [REDACTED])
Smg3 attempted to try and brighten out his mood. Gave it a chance who mightve thought would work, giving him those meme moments that definitely would make him laugh.
But three didnt even know he wasnt even sure- if he even liked sk---di t--l-t.
Last time we know is that four almost lost his sh-t during that one cintent farm episode, he cringed to the part of mentioning this kind of brain rot.
But now that his mind is not any other that he'd act at all, smg4 became the normal. The person he wasnt supposed to be. Who SHOULDNT be.
"What is... a meme..."
Everyone didnt want to lose smg4's senses, they didnt want his own person to disappear SO. they went inside the lab to get back his uhh... meme... thing-
Then- yeah he did-
Some of their eyes were relaxed but still worrying for him, while tari and smg3's eyes were a bit widened in shock. (Three was more widened than tari btw)
This indicates that three may have grew tons of roots being there for smg4 as well. That their friendship they both have planted is far beyond than just "sticking" to the sides.
Now that Four is back in his senses, everyone joined in including smg3 to do the... t pose? Whatever it's called.
Three was so happy- to finally get him back- speaking of having the role as a tritagonist, he really mustve took way more care and tells how important he already is to him. Even as a friend.
Honestly the hosts here who've completely have done much was Meggy and Three. Well- mostly three since he'd been convincing the crew to not give up or regret the choices made.
He LITERALLY told them that they need to get him BACK.
And everyone did understood.
So- tell me- PLEASE THEY BOTH HAVE TO BE CANON ALREADY THERE IS JUST NO WAY YOU'RE MISSING A 'HOMIE' FOR THAT-
Mark my words they have to be- (if they dont become canon in wotfi 2024 i will cry and die)
There is literally no way you guys look at each other like that. Stare for atleast SIX MORE SECONDS. (/referring to Puzzlevision movie when FOUR HAD BEEN STARING AT THREE)
and then caring for one another so emotionally like- mate- THATS FRUITY ALREADY- ENOUGH- WITH THE "FRIENDS" WHERE IS THE "BOY" AND "FRIEND"??????
I cant- I cannot- thats how badly they both need each other and slow burn is just- literally... uuuuuurugghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
They both mightve had the longest slowburn i have EVER seen in the sun and moon shipping history/silly
This mostly takes alot of time (judging by like lumity or catradora)
But i wouldnt mind with this also- its- well- kind of almost there but not yet...?
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A Strange(r’s) Comfort | Peter Parker
A/N: had this idea right after i saw nwh which was...years ago now lol. rewatched it again recently so here’s me dusting off a wip that’s been sitting in my drafts. basically, this is just me giving peter some comfort in a way, bc that boy really needs one :((
》 PAIRING: peter parker x female!reader 》 TROPE/GENRE: strangers to lovers (mostly implied); soft angst; hurt/comfort 》 SUMMARY: Peter found a strange comfort in the graveyard, no less. But hearing about your day-to-day had been the highlight of his. And when one night led to the both you showing vulnerability, suddenly, Peter didn't feel so alone anymore. Maybe a stranger's comfort wasn't so bad. 》 WARNINGS: Spoilers? (i mean it’s been a while); bad jokes/puns (one about chicken & one about sex lmao); peter eavesdropping (sorta...ya know, enhanced hearing); it’s mostly set in the graveyard so...; mentions of: death, car accident, drunk drivers, being in jail for a moment, petty theft, peer pressure; and overall just dealing with grief and peter & reader bonding over their experience with grief. 》 WORD COUNT: 5.2k+ (issa baby fic)
📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ P. PARKER MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩
⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *。・゚.★. *。・゚✫*.
Some might consider it unhealthy, but was there really a 'right' way to deal with the loss of someone you hold near and dear to your heart? They might even say it was excessive, but who were they to police him? They didn't know what he was going through. They could never understand what he was going through.
A part of him had excused it with his wounds being fresh, that with time, he'd be able to learn not to dwell too long on the remnants of the people he loves. Maybe with time, he'd be able to move on, something that seemed so impossible at the moment. But he'll get there—well, he hoped so, at least.
Either way, there was no doubt that everyone handled grief differently.
For Peter Parker, that was visiting May's grave every day.
Once was enough.
That was what he limited himself to, at least.
But still, it was barely enough to settle the demons in his head. Barely enough to stop him from replaying the scene over and over.
Peter had been recalculating in utter desperation as to what else he could've done better, what else he could've done more to save her.
That was what it was like most nights.
Some nights, though, his mind would switch things up a bit, thinking that maybe he was going about it wrong. Maybe it was a case of what he shouldn't have done.
Those nights Peter sometimes found himself picking apart every choice he'd ever made before it led to that point.
Maybe if he hadn't chosen to go on that stupid school trip to Europe then this wouldn't have happened. Maybe his identity wouldn't have been revealed and it wouldn't have led for that first domino to tumble, knocking over the rest that made his life turn for the absolute worse.
Or maybe, he didn't need to go that far back in the past. Maybe he simply shouldn't have chosen to question Dr. Strange's decision to send those villains back to where they came from immediately.
But sadly, that was all there was to it.
Peter's thoughts were simply and only just a whole bunch of unanswerable maybes.
Maybe this, maybe that. Maybe he owed it to them to try his best and fix things, maybe he didn't owe them anything at all. Maybe it was the wrong choice to try and save everyone, maybe it was right.
Aunt May said he did the right thing.
But it didn't feel like it sometimes.
Hell, it didn't even feel like it was even worth it. And no matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was right, his thoughts still managed to convince him that every. single. choice he made was simply wrong.
It wasn't even difficult to come to that conclusion anymore. Because ever since he got bitten by that spider, his loss considerably outweighed all his wins. And from then onwards, it just felt like he kept losing, and losing, and losing, and losing.
Right now, the most mundane thing he'd been losing lately was sleep, at the very least.
He'd gotten a job as a delivery guy at this small chicken joint a couple of streets down his apartment. Some might call it cheating—in his opinion, it was simply taking a shortcut—but he'd leave the bicycle they'd lend him in an alleyway and just swing the chickens to their destination. Sure, changing in and out of his suit was a bit tiring but it was definitely far better than dealing with New York traffic.
Apart from that, he'd also begun with some freelance photography work, dusting off the old DSLR camera Ben and May got him. He got decent at it a while back. But it got long forgotten the minute they bought him his first video game console, two years later.
He was starting off small, from random birthday parties to taking photos of restaurants or any establishment that was looking to use the pictures for ads or whatever. He was up for anything, anyone who didn't mind getting an okay photo at best.
There wasn't much to it, though, since nobody was really keen on hiring someone who didn't have experience. As a matter of fact, he didn't even have a high school diploma. Which had now led to him sacrificing countless hours of studying for his GED tests.
So, it was safe to say that he was handling a lot, especially juggling it with his still ongoing nighttime patrols.
Yet all of that seemed so much easier compared to what he had to deal with once he was lying in bed, wide awake even if it was past midnight. What went on in his day-to-day was only a fraction of the reason why he was losing sleep because his damning thoughts just had a habit of being so loud once everything else had quieted down.
It was hard as it was dealing with grief, even though he for sure had dealt with it more times than needed in such a short amount of time.
But what was more difficult about it this time around, was dealing with alone.
And Peter Parker was truly and utterly, alone.
No fellow Avenger to advise on ways to deal with this. After all, they were the only people who could understand even the slightest bit of what he was going through.
Saving the rest only to fail at saving one, losing someone in the midst of fighting for the rest of the world.
No Happy to offer some guidance on dealing with the loss of someone near and dear to you. Or for him to just be there as someone Peter could relate to, just like when Tony had died.
No Ned and MJ to give him company, offer their different ways of comfort as best as they could. They weren't there to simply make him laugh, offer that tiniest moment of reprieve, distract him with their theories and arguments about anything and everything to help him escape from, well, everything.
Right now, Peter had no one.
Going from having the people he truly cared about be only one call away, to suddenly being someone labeled as 'unknown number' in their contact lists, it was difficult.
But maybe he would just learn to live with it.
And maybe the first step to being able to live with his grief was to visit May frequently.
It didn't matter what time of the day it was. Whether it was early morning or just a few minutes after lunch, or when the sky started tinting orange as the sun slowly set. Midday or midnight, dusk or dawn, it didn't matter as long as he could visit her just once.
Maybe a part of him was hoping that by some miracle he'd hear her voice again, telling him, even if it was the last time, that you're going to be okay.
Peter needed it, so badly. He needed to be told that things would turn out alright because him being fine? It seemed like a far-off dream at this point.
He'd been to space, been to the mirror dimension, fought villains from other universes, been the center of a spell that erased people's memories and made them forget who he was.
Surely hearing the voice of a loved one that had passed wasn't too much to ask?
Yet every day, every moment he ventured into the graveyard, he was met by silence.
Well, aside from the distant hum of New York as life moved on. There was also the deep howl of the wind at night, a few cracking branches accompanied by the soft coo of crows.
Some would probably find peace from all the white noise, but Peter couldn't say he found any comfort in it. He'd only grown accustomed to it, used to tuning out the rest of the world to avoid being reminded of a life he once had.
Still, quietness had always been typical during his visits.
That, until one Saturday afternoon.
•••
Peter sensed another person approaching before he could even see them.
The soft crunch of fallen leaves was what he heard first, followed by a soft humming of some holiday song.
He looked up from the book he was reading, curious eyes landing on someone carrying flowers, a slight pep in her step which was unusual given the location.
Still, there was something about you that Peter couldn't help but be drawn to.
"There we go, all nice and clean," he heard you say, rustling of dried leaves and the soft brushing of clothes following suit. "And flowers well hydrated with bottled spring water."
You were talking to yourself.
It was a habit, he assumed. You just seemed comfortable doing it, as if you were having a mundane conversation with someone else.
Peter found it oddly endearing.
"I brought your favorite this time Dad because I am sure you're complaining to Mom why I always bring her favorite flowers," you explained with a soft laugh. "I sometimes forget you're a flowers type of guy, too."
No—you weren't talking to yourself.
You were talking to the gravestone.
His curiosity piqued even more.
It wasn't that you were being loud, either. Not at all. You were speaking softly as you typically would if you were by yourself in a graveyard, no less.
But because of his enhanced hearing, he simply couldn't help but listen.
"Sorry I haven't been here for a little while, just been busy with you know, moving, college, finding a job with a minimum wage that will not cover rent alone so what even is the point? We look for a job to survive but when we do find a job it doesn't even pay you enough to get by? Some people don't even hire you because 'not enough experience' and I'm like, duh? I'm trying to gain experience hence why I'm applying? Who even invented this shithole?"
Peter found himself nodding along, unable to argue with your claims when they were filled with nothing but the truth.
"Sorry, sorry, it just doesn't make a damn sense," you sighed. He could almost hear you rolling your eyes. "Anyway, I then have other adult things I really don't want to deal with like learning how to deal with taxes and stuff which is so dumb given I'm close to broke and—where does my tax go, anyway? Some politician's tenth vacation to the Bahamas, probably."
For the first time in a long while, Peter cracked a smile.
"Ugh, I am sorry, I promise I don't come here only to complain to you guys," you said, "But I am doing okay…"
He couldn't really explain the 'why,' but the soft tug in his heartstrings was definitely real when he heard the melancholia in your voice.
"The holidays are coming up," you said softly, the slight shake in your tone unmistakable. Yet as it rushed to the surface, it was just as quickly replaced with a chipper one.
"They always tell me how you both are watching over me now. But I don't know if I really want that," you sighed exaggeratedly. "Not because I hate you guys. But imagine if I was having sex? I really don't want to think about you 'watching over me' because it's really uncomfortable."
Peter couldn't stop his snort, his eyes widening as he spared you a glance. He was as grateful that you didn't seem to hear him.
The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was eavesdropping—well, maliciously, at least.
"It's a joke, Mom. See, Dad gets it."
Silence hung in the air after that, a sudden gust of wind blowing away the leaves that littered the snow-covered grass.
But he had a feeling the shake in your voice wasn't because of the cold.
"I really miss you guys…"
Peter left at that.
He didn't see you again for the next few days, probably because he never did visit at the same hour of the day. He never actively tried to see what time you were there, either—if you went every day at all. He'd just become a stalker at that point.
So, every time you did cross paths, it was entirely by chance.
The next encounter was when he brought his lunch with him to the graveyard. He'd caught sight of you sitting on a pink blanket that was laid out on the grass, legs crossed with a box of pizza to your right.
Instinctively, you looked up and over your shoulder when you heard his footsteps.
Your eyes immediately locked with his.
Pretty was the first word that came to his mind.
Beautiful, when you offered him a sweet and warm smile.
"Hello," you greeted.
Peter couldn't help but smile in return.
"Hi."
Nothing else was said after that.
You both respectively ate your lunches in your little corners, your soft humming bringing a comforting peace, one he still couldn't quite explain.
And from there on out, Peter learned that you did go there every day, but it was only either at lunchtime or late in the afternoon.
Because whenever Peter went during those times, you were always there.
As he said, he never actively tried to be there whenever you were. He didn't change anything with his routine. He still went there at random times of the day.
You and him crossing paths simply happened.
And most of those moments, Peter couldn't help but listen in on your rambles.
It might have been wrong, otherwise, creepy, but it wasn't like you were unaware of his presence. You weren't being loud, but you weren't exactly whispering into nothing either. If it were an unenhanced being, they would still hear you, but maybe only slightly inaudible. Peter just had the ability to make out your words a little clearer than the average person.
Besides, all your stories had been mundane at most, quite adorable at best.
Like that one time you ran into a post because you saw a cat wearing some boots and a clear raincoat across the road. Or that time you missed your stop in the subway because you kept talking to a Corgi who was lounging comfortably in their owner's backpack.
"His little legs were so cute!"
Like he said, adorable.
But if it was something personal, though, he'd learned to tune it out. He made sure to keep those matters out of his ear, leaving your private conversations, well, private.
Yet your silly and terrible jokes, your gripes about society and the unfairness of the world, to your little story times and mundane gossip of what you'd heard on the street, Peter couldn't help but tune in as if he was listening to the morning radio.
It made Peter feel lighter somewhat, a feeling he never once associated when being in a graveyard.
He didn't know if it was your stories, or if it was simply hearing that soft tone of your voice. Either way, he found it comforting, which was so strange.
Never had he ever thought he would find comfort from a stranger, no less.
A strange comfort.
•••
"People always ask why did the chicken cross the road. They never ask why the chicken didn't cross the road."
Peter perked up in curiosity, ready to hear another of the many jokes you'd completely ruined.
He found it absolutely hilarious how you were churning typical and old punchlines into horrible ones.
The funniest part was, it seemed like you were doing it on purpose.
"Why, you ask? Because they physically can't anymore," you said, pausing for added effect. "People enjoy eating chicken legs way too much."
Peter's eyes grew wide, gaze landing on the chicken leg he just finished. He couldn't stop the sound that escaped his lips.
It was a mix between a wheeze, a laugh, and a cough.
Loud enough to get your attention.
"Hey," you called, voice sounding closer. "Are you okay?"
"Oh—uhm, hi," he stammered, caught off guard when you were now suddenly in front of him. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "And yeah, I'm good,"
"Do you need some water?" You offered him a bottle.
"No, no, I've got my own," he declined, lifting his bottle. "But thank you."
"Oh okay," you said, smiling sweetly. "It just sounded like you were choking or something so I wanted to make sure if you were alright."
Peter blushed.
"No, I was…uhm—" He scratched the back of his neck. "I was holding back my laugh."
You tilted your head, bottom lip jutted out and Peter found himself thinking of ways to smooth out the little crinkled on your forehead, maybe kiss—wait what?
"Why would you do that?" you asked.
Shit.
Did I say that out loud?
"Sorry?" He blinked at you.
"Why would you hold back your laugh?"
"Oh," he sighed, mostly in relief. "Just didn't want to seem creepy and I wasn't…eavesdropping or anything but I uhm—heard your joke." Chuckling shyly, he smiled. "It was pretty funny."
"Funny because it was bad?" You raised a knowing brow. "If you say it was good then I'm really going to question your sense of humor."
"It was really bad," he admitted, breathing out a laugh.
The way your smile brightened made Peter's heart do a funny thing.
"Thanks," you giggled. "I pride myself in my bad jokes."
"Yeah," he breathed out, willing his heart to stop being so goddamn weird, what is going on with you? "And sorry for not helping the chickens cross the road."
You stared at him confused.
That was until he pointed towards the bag on the ground that had the logo of a chicken on it.
Your hearty laugh rang in the air.
Peter found himself growing warmer at the sound, the burn starting right in his chest and spreading to the whole expanse of his body.
"I—whew, sorry, wow," you heaved after a moment. "Haven't laughed like that in a while."
Both of you fell silent after that—not an awkward one. If anything, it was pleasant, like there was an unspoken understanding being exchanged with a simple look.
"This may seem like weird advice but try and talk to them," you softly said.
Peter looked at you, confused.
You gestured toward the tombstone with a sympathetic smile.
"They might hear it, they might not, there's really no way of knowing," you explained. "But what more could you lose if you try? Plus, you'll get it off your chest and that's always progress."
"I—" Peter nodded, the corner of his lips curling up. "Thank you. I'll keep it in mind."
You smiled at that. "I'll see you around."
"See you around," he hummed, gaze never leaving your figure even as you left, his eyes steady on the path you walked on as he mulled over your words.
It was kind of weird advice, but at the same time, it made perfect sense.
Peter didn't question it nor did he judge—who was he to judge? After all, everyone handled grief differently.
But as he sat down on the ground, eyes steady on the lettering of May's name, he found the words flowing out so easily.
"Hi, May I—" Peter took a sharp breath, blinking away the sting that started to settle in his eyes. "Wow. It's been a while since I've talked to you, huh?"
It started out simple, filling her up with what was new with his life recently—the job, his education, all those mundane stuff.
But then as he shifted from one topic to another, he inevitably started talking about all the things that felt so wrong. And once that train left the station, it was so difficult to stop.
It wasn't a complaint. It was an unloading of the baggage he'd been carrying around alone for quite some time now.
All the loneliness and grief, the boiling anger and consuming regret, the love and the love lost, to the bleak look of what his future held.
Peter didn't realize he was crying until a soft gush of wind brushed his cheeks, the coldness making him catch his breath with a shiver.
And then, a small white butterfly flew right in front of him, stopping momentarily before disappearing into the now setting sky.
Peter let out a breath.
Lighter and relieved.
It could've been a coincidence, or maybe it wasn't at all.
But what more could he lose if he took that as a sign that she heard him?
So with a small, tearful smile, he sighed,
"Thanks for always hearing me out, May."
Since then, he'd grown to tell May about his day. Some were tougher than others, while some were snippets of his new life—mundane and simple but starting to become fulfilling the more he looked at it from different perspectives.
As the weeks passed by, Peter's everyday visits became every other day. At first, the guilt of missing a day was heavily consuming. But it didn't take long for it slowly turn into a soft lull—still there, but not as bad as it used to be.
There was one other thing he hoped for whenever he wandered into the graveyard, though.
To see you again.
If it was one last time just so he could say thank you, then he'd take it.
That didn't mean he wasn't wishing for it to be more.
•••
The hair on every inch of Peter's body stood up when he heard it.
It was definitely not his spider sense going awry. This was very much a human reaction.
Well, he could imagine that when the first thing a person would hear as they venture into a graveyard in the dead of the night was crying, even the toughest men would get spooked.
But as soon as Peter located the source of the sound, his heart broke.
He wasn't expecting to find you, sat on the cold ground alone, hugging your knees to your chest, body shaking with sobs.
His first instinct was to fight whoever it was that made you cry because how fucking dare they?
But with a controlled breath, Peter walked over to you, making sure to step on dried leaves so you'd be aware of his presence.
Your head snapped up at the sound, puffy red eyes landing on him.
His frown could only deepen as he slowly sat beside you, offering you a tender smile with his arms wide open.
You stared at him with furrowed brows, eyes switching between his face and his open arms, downright confused.
Peter couldn't blame you. After all, you didn't know him.
He was ready for you to yell at him for being a creep, to scream at him to get lost. He was prepared for you to push him away—hell, punch him in the face—and run as fast as you could.
But instead, your lips quivered, a broken sob following suit. With your head hung low, you fell into his embrace.
And Peter hugged you as tightly as he could.
He didn't say anything, didn't feel like it was needed. He simply held you close, rubbing circles over your back as he gently rocked you from side to side.
Crying it all out until you couldn't anymore was, most of the time, the best thing you could do at the moment.
So he let you.
Only when your sobs turned to sniffles to soft shaky breaths did you pull away.
"Your shirt," you gasped shakily, bottom lip jutting out as your eyes began to water again. "Oh no, I'm sorry."
"Hey, it's okay," he reassured, squeezing your shoulders before reluctantly letting you go. "I wouldn't have offered you a hug if I minded."
"Thank you," you whispered. "I really needed that."
"No worries." He nodded with a small smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"It's just—" you sighed, wiping your face with the sleeves of your coat. "It's my first holiday alone so it's been kinda tough."
"Me too," he hummed, smiling sadly when you looked at him, a mixture of surprise and understanding crossing your face. "My parents have been gone since I was a kid, and I was left with my uncle and aunt. My uncle died a few years ago so all I had left was her but now she's…"
"I'm sorry," you softly said, your hand finding his.
You gave it a squeeze.
Peter squeezed back.
"I only had my parents growing up," you started, gesturing at the tombstone. "Didn't get to meet my grandparents, never really met many of my relatives because they're all halfway across the world, so now it's just me."
Peter didn't know what it was, exactly. Maybe it was the warmth of your hand still holding his and your kind eyes bearing no judgment or pity. Maybe it was the sheer comfort you provided, one that he still couldn't quite explain.
Either way, he found himself sharing what it had been like for him. Sure, he left out details to keep his deepest secret uncovered, and to come and think about it, it was mostly things connected to Aunt May. But Peter definitely spilled way too much to someone he barely even knew.
He did not regret it one bit.
"I promised to protect her and I—"
"I'm sure you gave it your all," you assured.
"Not enough to keep her alive," he scoffed, tone far more bitter than he intended to. He caught himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, sorry—"
"Never apologize for how you feel," you said firmly.
Peter nodded, his attention caught by your thumb that was absentmindedly running circles over the back of his hand. You'd been holding onto it as you listened to his story, and he found himself not minding it at all.
If anything, a part of him wanted you to never let go.
"But I get it," you breathed out. "The whole 'this is my fault' thing."
"Was it an accident?" he asked softly.
You nodded. "Car crash. Some drunk frat boys thought it was a good idea to test out how fast they could go in their new truck into an open road."
He frowned. "That's not your fault."
"It is," you insisted. "They wouldn't have been out on the road in the first place if they weren't coming to pick me up in the dead of the night." Shaking your head, you scoffed, "I wish I could say I was at a friend's house but they were coming to bail me out of jail."
Attempting to lighten up the mood, Peter softly bumped his shoulder with yours. "Am I in the midst of a troublemaker?"
That earned him a teary chuckle.
He took it as a win.
"Not quite," you sighed, your smile fading. "Got hung up with the wrong crowd. They kept teasing me that I was too much of a miss goody two shoes and that I should live a little."
"Peer pressure is one nasty thing."
"Yeah well, I still did it." You shrugged, anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip. "A group of us were walking home from a party and we passed by this random minimart on the way. My so-called friends thought it was a good idea to dare me to steal one thing from the store, to break my 'good girl' streak as they put it.
"They all gave me ultimatums, one of them was either I steal something or they'll tell the whole school that I was the real definition of 'The freaks in bed are always the quiet ones' so my loser reputation is no more. They said they can't hang around me anymore if I kept being the loser of the group. It was tough because they were all the friends I had."
Peter couldn't stop the surge of pure anger that ran through him. "They sound fucking horrible."
"Yeah, and I was stupid enough to go along with it." Shaking your head, you chuckled, tone void of humor. "It wasn't even the owner who saw me, it was some random white woman yelling bloody murder as if I was burning the goddamn place down. And the second my friends saw the security guards? Oh, they ran, left me there to fend for myself."
Peter unclenched his fist, settling to rub circles on your back instead.
"It was one candy," you choked back a sob, gesturing towards the tombstone. "But the punishment feels—"
Peter wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a side hug when you started crying again.
"And you know what hurts most?" you whimpered, fisting his jacket as you laid your head on his shoulder. "Knowing that the last memory they had of me was just filled with disappointment."
"I'm sure that's not true," he said softly, squeezing you close. "They loved you."
"I know they did I just—"
"Wish you could go back and change every decision you made?"
You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him, eyes glossy yet he saw the flicker of gratefulness in them.
Peter felt it in himself too, an appreciation to finding someone who could understand even the littlest bit of what he was going through.
"Yeah," you shakily breathed out, letting out a soft laugh as you wiped your nose. "God, what a way to celebrate the holidays, huh?"
He chuckled at that, nodding.
It was definitely something, crying your heart out, spilling all your trauma to a stranger in the dead of night at a graveyard.
But there was only one thought that stayed at the forefront of his mind.
Peter didn't feel so alone anymore.
"Yeah," he hummed, a shy smile playing on his lips. "But I'm glad I'm not alone."
Your whole face brightened, your fingers interlacing with his.
"Me too," you said, smiling. "We're going to be okay."
Peter felt some weight lift off his entire back at those simple words of reassurance.
"We're going to be okay."
Teasingly bumping his shoulder with yours, you hummed, "I'm Y/N, by the way."
You both laughed at the absurdity of it, getting to know each other's pain, regret, hurt and grief before even getting the chance to know a name.
"Peter," he sighed, squeezing your hand. "Peter Parker."
Later that night, he somehow gathered up the courage to ask if you wanted to get some hot cocoa with him. And when you said yes with that smile he'd grown to adore so much, Peter had an inkling that you wouldn't stay a stranger to him in the long run.
But for now, as you laid your head on his shoulder, your soft breaths visible in the cold air, tiny snowflakes on your lashes, face glowing underneath the moonlight, warmth and contentment bloomed in his chest.
Peter was smiling.
Genuine and pure, and perhaps a sign of a new beginning.
A stranger's comfort wasn't so bad, after all.
✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
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ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter seven: while you were sleeping
pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader. genres: slice of life, social media au, body swap, fluff, angst. wc: 2,1k. warnings: language, anxiety, killing (humorously). an: sorry for the long wait! i hope you enjoy~
You remember reading somewhere that most dreams windows into the subconscious. They were like tools that the mind used to bring to the fore our innermost hopes, desires and fears.
You remember thinking how unfair it seemed; that other people got to have these things buried so far away they emerged only in the clutches of deep sleep.
You didn’t dream much after moving to Seoul. Mainly because you didn’t sleep much in the first place, but partly also because your innermost hopes, desires and fears always seemed to prance around you in broad daylight, with mocking expressions that seemed to scream: Here we are! What are you going to do about it?
When you did dream, your dreams were never really dreams at all either, but they were the seasonal reruns — the omnibus of troubling memories that you could not escape no matter how far you ran.
But tonight – tonight was different.
Tonight, it seems your subconscious believed you deserving of a break – a reward for all the anguish it puts you through otherwise.
“You have to answer us honestly, okay?” Yeonjun, the idol of the literal decade, your self-proclaimed bestie and role model, says with his eyebrows and lips set in seriousness. His eyes dart between you and Kai. “I promise we won’t freak out.”
You nod resolutely and they scoot closer to you with indecipherable expressions. Raising your eyebrows, you lean toward them in intrigue. “What is it?” you whisper.
Kai looks at Yeonjun, then takes a breath. “Who do you think is more handsome?”
You blink, registering the question, before gasping in shock. You smack their shoulders playfully. “How could you ask me such a thing? It’s not right! You’re both extremely handsome, like models – princes – angels! How could I possibly choose?”
They scream and fall back into the bed, cringing in embarrassment. “That’s just too much! Way too much!” Yeonjun cries through his hands.
“Seriously, Hyung,” Kai grimaces, rubbing the chill in his arms, “how did you get drunk enough to say such disturbing things.”
Their pink, blushing faces resemble the fluffy marshmallows you enjoyed as a kid, and it makes you laugh with joy. This is the best dream you’ve ever had. You’re unsure what your subconscious is trying to tell you with it, but you know you’re going to get Dr. Kim on the phone and ask if he had changed your prescription without you knowing and then thank him for it.
“Hey,” you pout and cross your arms, glaring at Kai, “I may not be as pretty as you, but I’m still your Noona, not your Hyung. And your Noona doesn’t drink.” Kai shudders in response.
“Seriously, you have to tell us what you drank last night,” Yeonjun shakes his head in amusement. His smile falters, then he crawls into the space next to you and links his arm with yours, resting his head on your shoulder. It feels so warm and comforting and real that your heart could burst. “I know you’re disappointed about the demo, but drinking this much is dangerous. At least let us come with you next time.”
You frown in confusion, turning to him. “What are you talking about? What demo? And I swear I didn’t drink,” you say, crossing your heart with one hand and holding up the other in solemn vow.
You try and think back to what actually did happen last night. “I guess moving into this new environment made me a little anxious, so I decided to take a walk. I… got a call from home that made it a little worse, and then I bumped into this really rude guy in the elevator. I was walking to the convenience store to get a red bean ice cream… and then I took my anxiety medication and I fell asleep on the couch?” you say, thoughts beyond that jumbled, and a nagging feeling at the edge of your mind calling on you to take another look.
“Anxiety medication?”
You find Yeonjun and Kai regarding you with eyes that swim with surprise, confusion, and deep worry.
“No, no!” you say quickly, waving your hands in hopes to draw them out of concern. “It’s not that bad! I mean, I can’t help that I have it, and it is a hindrance when I try and carry on with my life as per normal, but I’m fine. Let me show you the results of my last consultation.” you reach into your pockets for your phone, but find them empty. Your brows furrow in confusion.
For the first time, you scan your surroundings.
Instead of the tangerine walls you painted last night, you find yourself in a plain white room. Instead of your posters, the walls are bare. All the furniture and bedding in the room is black, save for a big canvas by the wardrobe with a big cherry blossom tree painted on it.
You begin to feel nervous, the events of the night before becoming more and more blurred. You remember the elevator and the convenience store and the sofa, but you also remember the sound of running water and the feeling of cold, wet clothes sticking to your body.
There is a sharp pain in your chest. You groan and grip your chest. Yeonjun and Kai rush to grab your arms.
“Hey, Beomgyu, are you alright?”
You force yourself up to reassure them, but eye Soobin’s black bomber jacket draped over a chair in the room, the one you remember slipping before stepping out last night. Hurrying over to it, the strong emotions you’re experiencing eases momentarily.
You search for your phone, but the pockets are also empty – except for a fumbled paper in one of them. When you unfurl it, you find it is a referral letter for Dr. Kim. You sigh in relief, but it comes too soon. Your hands begin to tremble as your eyes gloss over the patient’s name on the referral.
Choi Beomgyu.
Confusion, panic and fear grip your mind and you lean against the chair for support. Yeonjun snatches the paper out of your hands.
“What is this?” Yeonjun gulps, “You said Seungcheol-hyung’s tests only reflected an iron deficiency. What is this Beomgyu?” He says, looking at you with disappointment thickening his voice.
You shake your head. “Me? Beomgyu? No, you’re confused. I am (Y/n). And this is a dream.” Yet it all feels so real.
“Hyung,” Kai sighs, “Enough.”
“Look, I –”
You freeze.
Across from where you stand is a long, full-body mirror against the wall. In the mirror, where you should be standing, is Beomgyu. Your idol who you love so dearly, the reason you are motivated to strive for your dreams, is staring back at you with a face that should be yours.
When you walk, he walks.
When you frown, he frowns.
When you scream, so does he.
Yeonjun and Kai jump with surprise and you smack your hand over your mouth. Why do I sound like that?
Your fingers scour your face, pulling your cheeks and running though your hair. Eyes wide with disbelief, you turn to the two men beside you.
“Th-this isn’t a dream? This is real? You’re – real? Th-that,” you say, pointing a shaky finger to your reflection, “is me?”
“Dude,” Kai groans, dragging his fingers across his face in frustration. “Have you lost it? Of course that’s you.”
Yeonjun considers the referral one more time, then looks between you and Kai. “Maybe this is a result of the anxiety? Or the medication? You should have told us, Beomgyu.”
The hurt in his eyes sends a pang of guilt to your heart. “I’m sure he– I mean, I had a reason. He– I mean, I am not the kind of person that would keep it from you with bad intentions. Promise.”
They don’t look very convinced, but before you can answer, there is a banging at the door.
Yeonjun and Kai frown at one another, then their eyes widen. You arch a brow at them.
“Shit! Today’s schedule!”
Your face falls.
You had a feeling waking up in your bias’s body was just the beginning of your problems.
***
Beomgyu howls in pain as Taehyun hoists him into a room in the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. His gut twists in fear.
“What the hell is going on here? Who are you people and why are you in my apartment?” he yells, waving a finger at Taehyun. He clutches his throat and frowns, coughing to clear his voice.
Taehyun rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “Why don’t you take a good look around you and try again.”
Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but when he observes the environment his eyes widen. Large posters of his face are stuck against orange-colored walls instead of his white ones. At one corner of the room is what looks like a shrine: a framed photo of him is hanging off the wall, surrounded by photocards and fan-site photos, on a shelf of albums and a glass case holding a lightstick.
“We are not in your apartment. You are in ours.”
“Oh my God!”
Taehyun nods regretfully and gives him an apologetic smile. “Yeah, I know. I don’t know how –”
“You’re fucking sasaengs!” He screams, grabbing the closest thing to him – a hairbrush – and holding it like a weapon. “I swear to God, if you don’t let me go right now, I’ll call the police and sue you all into Hell!”
Beomgyu fishes in his pocket for his phone, but pulls out one that is very unfamiliar to him. The screen is cracked up, and the transparent cover it is in holds a polaroid of his face at the back.
Taehyun squeezes his eyes shut and sighs heavily. When he takes a look around himself, his shoulders drop in embarrassment. “Okay, wait. I know how this looks, but I swear it’s not what you think.”
“Oh yeah sure,” Beomgyu scoffs, tossing the phone onto the bed behind him and tightening his hands around the brush handle, “tell that to the six foot body pillow with my face on it!”
Taehyun considers the monstrosity against (Y/n)’s wardrobe and pinches the bridge of his nose as his ears burn red. “Yup, that’s fair.”
“I can’t believe this is the type of friend Yeonjun-hyung has! And aren’t you a doctor? You should be stripped of your license! I’ll see to it personally — my brother is a doctor and—”
“Excuse me?” Taehyun’s expression darkens. “You can threaten my life, and that of the person who’s room this is, but if you threaten my years of hardwork, I’ll have to kill you.”
Beomgyu shrieks, stepping back as Taehyun starts toward him. He aims to throw the brush in his face, but misses and the brush hits the vanity on the other end of the room.
Something there captures Beomgyu’s attention, and he is no longer bothered by Taehyun’s empty threats.
Taehyun stops and arches a brow, following him as he walks toward the vanity in a trance.
Taehyun watches as Beomgyu picks up the photo of him, Soobin, Yunjin and (Y/n) in Hongdae.
He turns to Taehyun with an expression that he has seen the owner of that face make when she was looking at photos of him.
“This girl? You know her?”
Taehyun nods, curiosity peaked. “I do. Do you?”
Beomgyu regards at the photo again with those glossed over eyes and chuckles softly. “I ran into her at the hospital. Does she always smile like this?”
The puzzle pieces click in Taehyun’s head and he laughs. If this gets out, Yunjin will never let him hear the end of it. And (Y/n)? She will sink further into delusion than she has ever gone.
He can’t wait to tell them.
He shrugs. “You’re smiling like that right now, you know.”
Beomgyu looks up into the vanity mirror for the first time and his jaw drops.
“I’m dreaming right now, right?” Beomgyu laughs in disbelief, but when he does, and sees his reflection do the same thing, the photo clatters to the floor and he screams.
“I wish.” Taehyun sighs, bending to it up from the floor. There are footsteps coming down the hall and Soobin bangs on the door. “Now that we’re on the same page, why don’t you tell me the last thing you remember? And let’s make it quick, that idiot will literally break down this door.”
“Why are you so cool about this!” Beomgyu yells, clutching his throat and groaning in frustration. He tries to make it sound deeper. “Has this happened before? Is this some voodoo shit?”
Taehyun rolls his eyes. “Let me stop you right there, Drama King. We’re getting carried away again. Someone needs to be with sane and rational thought, otherwise we’d probably give one another vasovagal syncope.”
“What?”
“Tell me the last thing you remember,” Taehyun says firmly. “We need to find (Y/n) and then figure out how and why this happened.”
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an: i’ll be updating everyday for what’s left of this week!
life is rough for (y/n). after dropping out of college and moving away from her family to live life on her own terms, she struggles to keep up with the fast-paced city life in Seoul. she becomes a fan of the kpop idol, choi beomgyu. while his content keeps her motivated to strive for her dreams, she can’t help but wish she had the same luck he has had. but not everything is as it seems.
taglist: @yoonzinoswife @ameliesaysshoo @bgomtori @woncheecks @seodami @thing89 @stormy1408 @boba-beom @binluvsu @lillynval @nothingwithoutgyu @gyuville @tinhq @soobnuuy @031323o @damn-u-min-yoongi (send an ask to be added!)
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#smau: from me to you 🎆#txt imagines#txt scenarios#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu scenarios#txt smau#beomgyu smau#txt fluff#txt x reader#beomgyu x reader
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