#ʚ Love Cafe ɞ

[trafalgarlogy]

If you do yandere had cannons could you please do some with sae with a darling that has the personality of yui from diabolic lovers if you're not too busy

sure!!💕

☰ WEIRD GIRL - SAE ITOSHI

CUSTOMER . @kiannas-stuff TW . Possessiveness, Violence, Reader's personality is kinda like Yui Komori, more like a softie reader? , Manga spoiler, Cringy Writing, Manga events included, Fem! Reader

⊹. . How Did You Meet ?

‎‧₊˚ Sae Itoshi, the Soccer Genius of all of Japan lost to Team " Blue Lock ", had shaken the corners of the nation more than those present in the stadium, and this shocking event became a headline of various news platforms. ‧₊˚ he didn't care much about it in any way as he still believed he was far superior to them for all he could blame was the bunch of weaklings on the team, who let him down. ‧₊˚ he scrolled through the headlines with a tired look on his face, a sigh escaped his lips as he threw his phone to the corner of the bed carelessly, he got up to take his wallet and keys of his manor moving outside in the cold weather. ‧₊˚ He quietly walked to a local convenience store nearby his house, entering the store he was greeted by many stunned faces just looking at him, scoffing them off. ‧₊˚ strolling through the area with his usual poker face, without even realizing his teal eyes caught the view of a (h/c)-ette girl struggling as her hands tried to reach the top of the rack to get something. ‧₊˚ he quietly approached her and raised his hands to get the item that her small hands were struggling to get for so long, he turned towards her to meet the gorgeous face of the girl which he couldn't help but admire. ‧₊˚ The anonymous girl waved her hand in front of his face getting him back into reality, "sir?...are you alright", Sae blinked twice in confusion and turned red in embarrassment, he threw the item into her hands and rushed to another corner, leaving the girl standing there in confusion. ‧₊˚ after a while, he went to the counter with a can of energy drink, placed it on the desk, and the employee got and grab the can to scan the code as Sae quietly watched him, "that'd be 150 yen", he took out his wallet and placed a 1000 yen note making the employee's jaw drop "keep the change." he said walking out of the shop. ‧₊˚ He walked outside the shop to hear the employee scream "THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING!", rolling his eyes as he kept walking, "Sir!" a familiar voice from behind stopped his steps, turning around he saw her again, her panting heavily with her hands on her knees and him glaring at her, he spoke "What...?" ‧₊˚ "Well, I wanted to say Thank you cause you helped me back there," the girl said standing up straight after catching some breath, "and so you took the struggles to catch with me to say this?..." a disgusted look formed on his face, "well yeah! of course, well I guess I'm done here...now I'm going to take my leave" (h/c)-ette bowed and took a turn to leave, "Hey! wait..." the girl turned her head around with one of her eyebrows raised, "Well nevermind...you can go..." Sae said with a sigh. ‧₊˚ "Oh ok...well let's meet some other day!" the girl replied with a smile, the response stunned Sae for a moment, "Sure..." said in a low voice with sarcasm, "btw I'm (Name), remember me ok!" waving a bye before running away. ‧₊˚ "(Name)...", "What a weird girl..." he rolled his eyes.

⊹. . Aftermath

‧₊˚ At first Sae thought you were someone weird for how casually you talked to him in your first meeting. Though, your personality didn't fail to amaze him. ‧₊˚ this simple thought of you took turns into becoming an obsession, how can just a local girl like you, who he met at a convenience store just drive him insane in just a single meeting. ‧₊˚ He didn't know anything about you other than your name, he would always look forward for he'd bump into you again but, this time never let you go ‧₊˚ Well this time it seemed like god was on his side, and he finally found you, as much as he was happy, he was jealous at the same time with the view of you being with some other guy/girl other than him. (chill that person is not your s/o , just a friend of yours) ‧₊˚ but he was a guy who was just too spoiled from a very young age, if he wants something he gets it no matter what. and you are no exception ‧₊˚ in his opinion you were a play hard, who was trying to ignore the fact he is an international level soccer player, and that he was known worldwide, but little did he know that you didn't even know a single thing about soccer. ‧₊˚ The more he got to know you, the more he realized how naive, caring and innocent you were, there was something about you that made him fall for you harder day by day. ‧₊˚ He loved every single thing about you, that kind personality of you to help anyone in need, you were such a pure soul he thought he swore that he wouldn't let anyone ruin you, he wanted to take you somewhere no soul could even dare lay a finger at you. ‧₊˚ indeed you were too naive, to fall in love with a monster like him...

⊹. . How Would He Treat You?

‧₊˚ well in most of the animes I portrayed the characters to be extremely violent to a level that they don't have a hesitancy to do some killing for their darling, but the case here is different I believe, yes, Sae is indeed violent but not too a level of killing cause aside from you he gives very much importance to his career and he can't take any chances to commit something like this for his own reasons. ‧₊˚ Cause first, his career would get ruined alongside his reputation among the newer generation of soccer players. ‧₊˚ Second, He knows it would hurt his darling if he does something like that, and he can't afford to see you cry right? ‧₊˚ If some guy touches you, Sae is strong enough to break those hands and send that guy to the hospital without even getting reported to the police. ‧₊˚ but he hides this monstrous side of his from you, cause he is afraid you would leave him. What would he be without you? ‧₊˚ But here is the thing he is R.O.U.G.H, the guy would leave bite marks over your neck and tell you to wear somewhat revealing dresses to show the marks, as to tell the world who you belong to ‧₊˚ let's say he would spoil you rotten, I mean he is a celebrity right? imagine his annual income, it's enough for you to buy every single thing you ever wanted ‧₊˚ well he finds you too adorable that he developed a habit to squish your cheeks. (IDK I JUST TURNED RED WRITING THIS ONE.) ‧₊˚ He is not too possessive and yet too possessive, but only in the cases you being around other men other than him or else you have the freedom to enjoy anything you like. ‧₊˚ But what if, you find out about his bad side what would happen? ‧₊˚ Well, he would try convincing you he did it all to keep you happy, but you won't buy it so he would leave you alone, till you can calm down and he could sort things out with you. ‧₊˚ well longer the relationship the more he knows about you, so using that innocence of yours up to his advantage he would successfully convince you to stay with him. after all they don't call him a genius for no reason right? ‧₊˚ well he'd force but not actually force you to get a tattoo of his name(optional where) ‧₊˚ people who know you are scared of him, and they'd tell you he is scary but you still deny it. ‧₊˚ he saw himself to be a devil for a goddess like you, who brought light to his darkness. ‧₊˚ most of the guys who ever tried to make you uncomfortable or flirt with you were reportedly almost beaten to death but survived with serious permanent damages, as you could say Sae spared the for the sake of you. ‧₊˚ and yet again things go back, and he would occasionally take you with him on a vacation. ‧₊˚ well he would always book you a front row to his match so that he could watch your cute reactions to his goals, and that you would cheer him which would boost his confidence or more like ego. ‧₊˚ and even when you are too shy kissing him when he asks for it, in front of people, especially his teammates then oh dear, he would get annoyed, that he would just pull you close and start making out with you shamelessly in front of them. ‧₊˚ well humiliation like this is common in your relationship with him. ‧₊˚ Just so you know Sae Itoshi is a monster disguised as your prince charming of your dreams.

THANK YOU FOR ORDERING!

[kittys-luvcorner]

This is literally Folly’s song omg

[tbaluver]

The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: i might make a part two of this i just thought this was a cute idea in my drafts (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He is your weighted blanket whenever you need him. Literally and figuratively. When you sleep, he provides so much warmth. His head could be on your chest as he dozes off when you play with the locks of his hair. His arms would be around your body, occasionally pressing light kisses on your arms.

Your big baby. The warmth and softness of you and hearing the sound of your heartbeat soothes him. Therefore, he loves being the little spoon when cuddling despite the height difference between you two. He leans into your touch a lot so just hold him tight and run your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles his face into your chest.

He has the most confusing food combos he's cooked but you try them anyway. Sometimes it's not shocking to you that it's not your cup of tea so you decide it's best to just get take out instead or that you cook anyway. You both can cook your own plates at the same time in the kitchen or you'll help him cook what he wants even if the food combo is questionable so he doesn't burn the house down.

Will celebrate all of your achievements no matter how small. You were nervous about an exam? "Woot" Will be happy and proud that you got it over with and you'll both find something small or big to do to celebrate it

Cute date ideas would be stargazing or picnics in the park. Packing simple easy foods and treats while you both enjoy the scenery and afternoon. Or having a blanket out at the park while you watch the stars at night but he's looking at you.

Zayne:

The type to kiss you in bed every single night and when you both wake up. He'll kiss you on the lips, or the top of your head while he cups your cheek.

He'll always listen to your problems. He's an amazing listener and he gives logical advice as well as encouragement and praises depending on what the situation is.

He's a busy man but he tries to plan dates with you at least two or three times a week. If he has a busy schedule he'll make it up to you. Some dates include checking out new cafes to try new sweets or bakeries.

He's also a gentleman! He'll hold any door open whether it's a restaurant, yours or his home, or the car door, etc. He always tries to pick you up and drop you off. He'll also wait until your inside your home safely before leaving. He'll always stay on the dangerous side of the road or sidewalk whenever you both are walking together. With him you're never walking on the wrong side of the road whenever he's with you! If you were both in a busy area, he'll let you link your arms together, or intertwine your hands together, or he'll have his hand on your back so he knows your with him.

He'll make the effort to call you whenever he can. During his breaks from work, he'll call to see how you're doing. Or he'll call you at night to wish you a goodnight before he does an operation because he might not make it back home in time.

When he comes home late at night, he's cautious on handling your sleeping form because he does not want to wake up your peaceful sleep. He'll tuck your head in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head before pulling up the covers over your body.

Rafayel:

You are his muse. He is so in love with you that you fill up his mind so most of his works would be inspired by you. He would have many sketchbooks filled with sketches of mostly just you and sometimes of you and him. The sketchbook is filled with your side profile, your eyes, your smile, your hands, any parts of you that he has adored for years. One time he planned on drawing the scenery of the beach but he decided to sketch you instead. Or there would be times where you're at a restaurant and he'll doodle you on a napkin. Or when you're both at the beach, he'll grab a stick and draw you on the beach.

Being in a relationship with him basically means you will always have a companion. He'll trail on you wherever you go like you literally cannot get rid of him. When you want to shower by yourself, he'll stay on the other side of the shower talking about anything. He just likes having you by his side. You can sit near him while he paints a new canvas and sometimes he'll ask you your opinions. He'll also want you to travel with him if he had to fly out for exhibitions.

Although he can be very playful and a tease, he'll do anything for you. You just have to ask him. He's wrapped around your finger.

He'll buy matching jewelry for the both of you and he'll buy any dresses or outfits that he thinks you would love or that would look gorgeous on you.

He also loves loves it when you give him words of affirmation. He loves hearing when you compliment him or tell him that you love him and he'll also love doing that to you as well.

Sylus:

He would reprogram Mephisto to like you and not squawk/ claw you. If he was far away from a business situation he would have Mephisto or Luke and Kieran keep you company. The twins will probably tell you any stories you want about Sylus. He'll also make calls or text you to update you on anything while he's far away.

On nights when he's not home, he'll intentionally leave some of his shirts out because he knows you sleep in his shirts as you drift off into sleep. He makes sure that they smell like 'him'.

Loves holding hands anytime he can with you. Or just loves having his hands on you. Always has his hand on your back or intertwined with yours or wrapped around your waist.

Makes time for you anytime he can. He'll literally just give you his card and follow you around while you shop. He's also the type of partner to buy you everything that you touch. If there's a time where you're upset about something that's sold out, he'll be searching for it and buying it overnight with the fastest delivery!

He'll also find your height difference funny. Sometimes he'll place his hand out on your head and tease you. Or sometimes he'll hold things above his head and find your expression funny because it's still impossible for you to reach.

[lovverletters]

👉👈 yandere serial killer...??? Maybe?? Like just this big scary dude with a mask and a big fuck all weapon like a butcher's knife or something and hes so big and scary but he sees his darling as he's just head over heels in love and obssessed and stalks them and makes sure they are safe.

Maybe leaves gifts as a way to try and court his darling even (trial and error style)

So like he leaves maybe a dead animal like a fucking cat cause he's this kinda survival guy and he's trying to provide food but darling is freaked out, so he tries again with something else maybe bones. Doesn't work. Tries to figure out what they like and tries again with their favorite flower or something.

Like he's out of touch with society cause again big serial killer who likely lives out in the woods, kills people who get to close to his home etc so he's really trying to win over his darling who lives closer to the town/city or something.

Just.... I just love big scary man who is so scary and mean but is ONLY nice and soft to his darling and tries to be so gentle, especially if his darling is much smaller than him.

No pressure if you dont wanna do this! Just!!! Giving out some ideas!

♡♡♡

♡Bunny

Yandere! Serial Killer

A/N : thank you for requesting! I changed a few things if you don't mind💖 this is like an intro for him? I'll write more if people like this dude

T/W : Obsessive behaviour, murder, mentions of dead animal.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"─yet another body has been discovered near a park at Heartfelt Avenue this morning. The police were alerted to the scene after a man who was walking his dog stumbled upon the deceased body covered with deep cuts that were shaped into a heart. This marks the twelfth victim of the serial killer, 'Lovelorn' that has left communities in fear──"

The news forecaster were cutted off as [Name] switch the television off. Their stomach churned with uneasiness at the reports of the new killing. With the serial killer still on the loose, god knows who'll be next?

It could be them.

It's a terrifying thought but a probable possibility. All of the bodies were found near their place of living, meaning that the killer is not far from their area. Moving away is not a choice for them, they could barely make enough money to stay afloat.

[Name] will have to put up with the murderous maniac's antics until they were caught and placed behind bars.

"Shit── I forgot I have to cover for Stacey today!" They cursed out, hurriedly changing into their horrendous work uniform.

Working a late shift at a cafe wasn't exactly their choice. [Name] usually worked the day shift── stressful but far better than being all alone at night when there's a lunatic who's going around stabbing people. Their coworker Stacey had an emergency today and had practically begged [Name] to cover for her shift as no one would take up on it.

[Name] don't blame them, no one in their right mind would voluntarily throw themselves in a situation where they would ended up in a news headline.

However, adulting is hard and it drains your sanity slowly and [Name] already lost theirs a long time ago. Plus, they really need more money otherwise they'll have to live off cup noodles.

What ever could go wrong? The killer had just slain a person today, they couldn't possibly attempt to do it again could they?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Everything went wrong.

It had been mind numbingly boring shift, the cafe were deserted at night with only a few people coming in and getting out as soon as they got their drinks.

[Name] were tempted to just sleep through their shift in the break room. Their boss won't care──probably.

"Can't something interesting happens right now? I'm bored out of my mind──" On cue, the lights suddenly begun flickering before shutting off.

Fuck. They're not bored anymore.

[Name] jolted in their place when the main door slammed to a close and their heart stopping momentarily as they saw a figure running towards the backdoor entrance.

They raced towards the exit──there's no way they're going to investigate it! They value their life more than this store they worked at──and try to pry the door open but discovered to their horror that it has been jammed!

Before they could attempt to break the glass door with a steel chair, they heard a noise from their former place behind the counter. [Name] eyes widened in fear at the sight of the figure they'd seen running earlier.

The man was muscular and had a red horned mask on, in his hand was a large butcher knife that serial killers loves wielding. Had their life not being in danger, [Name] would've laughed at how cliché this situation they're in.

"H─hey buddy, that's a nice looking knife you got there" [Name] says as they held onto the steel chair tighter, ready to wield it as a weapon if needed to.

The killer only stalked further in silence, ignoring [Name]'s remarks. He only stopped once they reached a good distance from each other and [Name] were confused, is he fucking with them?

Their confusion only furthers when the killer drops a fucking dead rabbit in front of them. Horrified beyond belief, [Name] looked at the horned masked man who stared at them as if he's waiting for a praise.

"Wh──wha..?" They could only croaked out timidly.

"It's for you" The killer spoke in his deep voice, elaborating no further.

Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he dropped a human heart next to the dead rabbit. [Name] felt their knees weakened as they fell on the ground, disturbed at the sight before them.

Mustering whatever courage they have left within them, they asked the killer that's towering over them.

"Wha──what are these f──for?" Stumbling over their words from how terrified they were.

The killer, holding a flower in his hand──they looked freshly cut from the stem──lowered to their level of ground and spoke in his gravely voice that's strangely laced with a certain gentleness and love.

"M' courting you cause' I love you"

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[luveline]

losers | remus lupin

“Please.”

“Please?” he says back, mirroring your soft tone. “You think you need to say please?” His pinky bumps under the waistband of your trousers. There isn’t much give. He traces the lining to your zipper, fiddling with the small piece of metal as your eyes darken. “I should be the one saying it.” His voice keeps dropping, an utterance in the shell of your ear, his words for you and you alone. “I’m at your mercy, dove. Don’t say please with me. Okay?” 

you find remus’ number on an abandoned motorbike. things snowball from there. [10k words]

fem!reader, fluff, first date, smut mdni, implied inexperienced!reader, almost rockstar!remus, mentioned that remus takes painkillers, muggle!au, early 2000’s au

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ There’s a motorbike outside of the cafe.

It’s huge. Too heavy for you to move. Technically, you hadn’t found it at all, it was left there in the dead of night a few days ago and hasn’t budged since. It’s illegally parked, a fact that your manager won't stop muttering about while she’s elbow deep in latte foam and coffee cakes. 

“I’m getting the bastard thing towed,” she grumbles that morning. “Let the police deal with it.”

That seems rather harsh to you. It isn’t necessarily in the way, and it looks well loved. Perhaps whoever left it can’t remember where they left it, having stumbled home on inebriated footing after one too many at the pub across the street. You think about how much it must cost to get your stuff back after it’s been towed, and though you aren’t sure of the specifics, you know it can’t be cheap. So, when your manager falls into conversation with a regular and your break begins, you creep outside to do some investigating. 

It’s a hulking thing made of more black than silver. There are stickers across the left side of the body, weathered and peeling, though one is newer than the others and immediately draws your eye. 

A phone number. 

If lost, please call. 

You take your phone out of your pocket, a flip phone with one dangling charm in the shape of a star. You click each faded button slowly. You're scared to talk to someone you don’t know, but relieved to maybe save the day. 

It goes for ages. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you say, dropping your voice into its sweetest tones, though nerves make you too soft, and you worry you’re hard to hear. “Hey, um, sorry to bother you. I work at The Mill, it’s a– a cafe in the city centre… Are you missing a bike, by any chance? A motorbike?”

“Oh, thank you. Yeah, it’s my friend’s. He can be… forgetful.” The voice that speaks is both smooth and gritty, impossibly, like whoever it is that’s talking smoked half a pack of cigarettes before he answered the phone. He clears his throat. “I hope it hasn’t been an imposition for you.”

“Actually, uh, my manager wants to have it towed. Like, now. I can try to fend her off but honestly she’s like, that physics law, um, unstoppable force? Uh,” —you’re stuttering, making it worse, because his voice is surprisingly handsome and you’re an idiot through and through— “yeah, so could you come and get it?”

“Yes! Yeah, absolutely, we’re on our way. Thank you.”

“Sure. Of course.”

You hear something not meant for you, the tail end of, “Sirius, get up. You better call Marl and—”

Phone back in your pocket, you take a quick glance around the street before reaching out to run your finger over the cracked leather of the motorbike seat. You’ve never ridden one before. You’ve never wanted to. The level of fearlessness one needs for it isn’t one you possess. 

You’re the opposite of fearless. 

The sun hides behind a wave of clouds. Your skin chills near immediately, your prim slacks and apron a worthless defence against the cold. It’s an average day here, grey and quiet. Occasionally a couple will pass you, hand in hand as they traverse the worn pavement. You smile at an elderly man and his dog as they shuffle across the street and into the cafe. Your smile fades as you tune into the fierce tones of your manager, demanding to know where you’ve gone. If your absence is what distracts her from calling the police, so be it. 

You’re considering getting your phone back out to play Snake when a passing car slows beside you. You straighten up and out, feeling your spine click in more places than it should as the passenger door opens and an insanely attractive man throws himself out of it. 

“My angel!” he cries, heading straight for you. 

You take a panicked step backward. The man dives for his motorbike. You flinch, mystified by his enthusiasm and his opposite appearance. Short sleeves reveal arms full of dark tattoos, with one side marred by a brutally long scar from his elbow to the back of a ring-laden hand. You tear your eyes from him as a second door closes across the street, and feel all the air rush from your chest as a second man approaches. 

He’s very pretty. It might be redundant to say it to yourself, presented as you are with an undeniable truth, but you think it anyway. Sandy brown hair, pale skin, and in enough layers to make up for his friends lack thereof, the second man ignores any dramatics and meets you head on. 

“Hi,” he says, holding out his hand, “you’re the one who called?”

Closer now, you can see the scars on his face. They stretch over the ridge of his nose and into his eyebrow. A smaller one tugs as he talks against his top lip. 

You take his hand and shake it limply. “Yeah, that was me.”

If he’s concerned with your nervousness he doesn’t show it. His smile doesn’t move. “He wants to say thank you. He will, once he gets over himself.”

“Thank you!” the dark-haired man calls. “She’s my everything. I’ve been sick with worry.”

“Have you?” the man in front of you asks, his voice steady, almost intimidating in its impassiveness. 

“Yes, Moons, I have been… not that you’d know.”

“Some of us have real problems,” Moons snips, though he quickly looks at you like he’s embarrassed. “Sorry. He brings out the worst in me.”

“You must be good friends.” 

You don’t know why you say it. He only smiles. 

“We must be.”

The first man stands up from checking over his motorbike and beams at you. You suspect it’s an expression that works in his favour more often than not. “What can I give you, doll?” 

“No, nothing. Please. I’ll just be glad to hear the end of it.”

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, really." 

Your manager calls your name, clear as day despite the thick pane of glass and brick walls separating you. 

"That's you?" Moons asks. 

"That's me. Sorry." 

"No, don't be. Thanks so much for calling." 

You nod hurriedly, throwing them both a 'nice to meet you, I'm sorry for leaving so fast' kind of smile and head back inside. 

You take a sneaky look back when you're behind the counter again. They’ve turned their backs to you, Moons' friend ruffling his hair roughly. After a minute or two, Moons gets back in his car, and the motorbike pulls away like it was never there to begin with. 

What sort of name is Moons? you ask yourself. It's a question that stays with you for a few days. You find yourself hoping you'll see him again, or that his friend's motorbike will turn up outside of the cafe for a few long days and give you an excuse to call him. His number stays unsaved in your recent calls menu for a while. Eventually, you forget about him altogether; the motorbike, the call, the gentle wave of his hair. 

You're hard-pressed to forget his voice, though. There'd been something familiar about it. 

"Nice highscore." 

You jump hard and wince as the metallic taste of blood hits your taste buds. To make it worse, you slam your phone up into the counter it was hiding under in shock. It makes a fatal crunching sound. 

You shove it into your pocket and look up. Standing there, in all his handsome weariness, is Moons, sans friend. He's wearing nice clothes, clean and clearly ironed. You're immediately aware of your ratty uniform and your unkempt hair. 

"Shit," you say, which is so fucking embarrassing, honestly, you could fall through the floor and stay there, "Sorry. What can I get you?" 

His eyebrows inch up his forehead. "What's the easiest thing to make?" 

That's not a question you get often. "Uh, regular black coffee, or tea, or, the uh– the hot chocolate's not that hard. But you should order whatever you like, of course." 

Moons smiles at you. You're starting to understand the nickname (assuming it is a nickname). He has this odd but enticing presence about him, like that awestruck feeling of looking up at night and seeing all the teeny tiny stars and the moonlight that comes down with them, bright and somewhat daunting. 

"Sure you don't mind?" 

"I'm paid not to mind." 

"Can I get the biggest cup of tea you can make? Milk and two sugars, please." 

"Absolutely." You sidestep to the register and click a bunch of the wrong buttons. You're unprofessionally flustered. "Uh, three sixty five?" 

He passes you a five pound note. Your tip cup is for the more generous type, and he has no trouble dropping his palmful of change into it. He barely looks. You're expecting him to take a seat but he stays standing, one arm pressed to the counter, the other held up. He scratches behind his ear absentmindedly, as though he has nowhere else to be. 

"Are you in a hurry?" you ask, confused. 

He stays quiet for enough time to shit you up. You're tipping milk over your hand and hoping he hasn't seen it when he says, "No rush. I'm here to see you." 

You look over your shoulder at him. You can't help it. "To see me." 

"Yeah." 

You spin back to his tea. The counter is covered in spills and sugar, cup tops and wooden stirrers. You take them all in with wide eyes. Nobody ever comes to see you. Not your friends, not family (unless they want something). Especially not boys you met once for two minutes. 

"Is there something wrong?" you ask. 

You clip the lid onto his big tea and wrap it in napkins so it doesn't burn his hands. 

"Nothing's wrong," he says kindly. "I wanted to apologise. Your boss was upset with you. It was Sirius' fault. We owe you for it." 

"You really don't have to say sorry. She wasn’t that mad. No harm, no foul." 

You put his cup of tea down in front of him and try to smile like girls do in the movies. Soft doe eyes, not too bright, not too awkward. You give up after a second and feel it twist into something regrettable. 

His long silence makes you squirm.

"A thank you, then.”

He offers you an envelope. You take it. 

The paper is crisp and thick. Your fingers are clumsy, and it takes you too many seconds to fold the envelope's lip and pull out the card stock inside. 

You look up in shock. "I can't–" 

He's not there. You look to the door, catching what might've been his hand as he walks out of view. 

He's left you two concert tickets. You don't go to concerts. You might have, when you were younger, and had friends to follow. As it stands he's given you two seated tickets for a show in the Pointer Arena not far from where you work, for a band you've never heard of. The price on each is a solid £20, which is way too much repayment for ringing a number from a sticker. Worse, you're not sure you have somebody who can use the second one. 

You hope he'll come back for clarification alone, and a little to see him, but he doesn't, and soon the date on the ticket matches the date on your calendar and you're standing outside of the venue with no clue how to hold yourself. 

You stand in line for a while. It's a very long line made up of mostly younger women. You listen for the calling of a reseller and spot a group of young girls trying to haggle with them, reluctantly leaving your place in line. 

"Hi," you say quietly to the one furthest from the epicentre. "I'm sorry if this is weird. I have an extra ticket tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like it? I know it's seated, but maybe you could use it to get in and then, uh, not sit? Or just sit." You could writhe around on the ground in shame. You hold out the spare ticket. "If you want it." 

"Are you kidding?" 

"No, seriously." 

She takes the ticket and you walk away before she can try and give it back to you. Whether she uses it or not, it's no longer your problem to deal with. The lady who'd been standing behind you lets you back in line, for which you're extremely grateful, and you shiver your way to the front with nerves churning your stomach. 

You've imagined being turned away twenty times by the time they usher you through the doors. The air is buzzing with excitement, enough of it to ramp up your nerves, and you smile weakly at the people who pass you on the way up to the seating area you've been designated. The Pointer Arena is a smaller venue with much more standing than seating capacity available. The seats are at the sides and back of the second floor, looking down at the pit with a safety barrier in front. 

You slide into your seat and peer down at the crowd as it fills up one ant of a person at a time. You can't distinguish one person from another after a while. It’s a moving sea of dark clothes. 

It takes a long time for the opening act to come on. You're not having much fun. You'd tried to use the computer in the cafe to research the bands playing tonight but the dial up hadn't been working and your manager hates when you take long breaks, so you aren't sure you'll even enjoy yourself. You're not sure why you came here — is it sad, to come here alone? It looks sad, you think, pathetic, but it doesn't feel sad. You're not very good at talking, anyways. It's so difficult. Or maybe you just make it that way. 

This is why you regret coming. Any time spent by yourself is time to think. You hate thinking, but it's all you seem to be able to do. Think and think and think. Your mind runs in the same circles. Things you've done, things you wish you did, things you want to do so badly it makes you feel sick. You can't stand it. 

The crowd begins to rise in volume. Cheers echo against the atrium ceiling, and you push yourself to the edge of your seat to see what's making them all so excited. 

The opening band. They're too far away to see clearly. First on stage is a man with brown skin and a head of black curls, a guitar swinging from his neck, the body barely held as he waves to the masses. Next comes a paler man with hair tied up in a bun who sits down behind the drum kit and doesn't move much after that. A girl practically sprints to centre stage, scooping up a waiting guitar (or bass?) and strumming down the body appreciatively. She has purple hair, bright and choppy, particularly abrasive against the alabaster white of her skin. 

And last on stage… last on stage is Moons. 

You move forward suddenly, smacking your face against the plexiglass barrier and biting your cheek for the second time in a week. Used to your mistreatment, the poorly healed skin wastes no time splitting, and the metallic taste of blood makes you cringe. 

That's Moons. There are two huge screens either side of the stage that magnify him. First his hand on the microphone, a scar coiling up from his wrist to his thumb purple against his skin. Then his face. You wouldn't forget what he looks like so soon, not when you've half obsessed over him for days with could-be's because he'd wanted to see you and you have a bad habit of inventing future's with people you don't know, but even if you did it wouldn't matter. You've never met anyone else with three scars as he has across his face, taking centre stage. 

You hadn't realised the tickets were to see his band. It makes sense, now, why your seat is in such a quiet area, and why the people sitting close by aren't firecracker happy at the sight of them. They must've received their tickets in the same way, gifts or thank yous for small favours. 

Your mouth dries as they begin to play. It's not what you're expecting. Of course, you haven't really had time to expect anything, and yet you're shocked when they start to play a slow song. He doesn't really look like a rockstar, but a heartthrob? You can see it easily. The long lengths of his lashes, and the dark honey of his eyes. His smile, so small but somehow piercing. 

His voice is careful. He doesn't sing anything impressive —there's no belting or high notes— but you still find yourself wringing your hands together, entranced by his confidence. He dances around the melodies and fills up every space he can find between the beat of the drums and the searing guitar riffs that follow. 

They only play five songs. By the time they've finished you're feeling sick to your stomach, and you can't get your heart to calm down. You hadn't known a word of the lyrics, but you'd felt them. 

They're good. 

Like, too good to be openers for long. 

The crowd echoes your sentiment. They clap and scream and wolf whistle. The noise vibrates in the depth of your stomach. The cheering doubles when the headlining band’s techies emerge. The lights go down. Equipment begins to roll out. 

You scrounge through your purse for a lip balm and think about heading downstairs to the concession stands for an overpriced bottle of water to wash away the unfortunate tang of blood. It aches to pay, but if you don't soon you might get nauseous, and that would be a real disaster, throwing up here of all places. 

You hear his voice before you see him. He's laughing, talking to somebody about the set. 

"It was great!" compliments a feminine voice. "I don't know what you were so worried about, Remus, you're really great. And if you weren't, Marl would've saved the day anyways with her gorgeous showmanship." 

"Thanks, baby," says a second voice. Marl. 

"Thanks, Mary," Moons says. 

What had Mary called him? Remus? Odd, not quite as strange as Moons. 

You try not to tense as footsteps approach. 

"Can I sit?" he asks. 

You look up too fast. He's a little damp, the hair closest to his face curled with it, but he smells good as he sits down. He must've washed up. 

"I– I've been calling you Moons in my head," you admit, not sure what to say. 

He's intimidating. You don't imagine he knows it. He sits in the chair without any fanfare, setting his forearm on the rest between your two seats and turning his face to you completely, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, almost like he doesn't want to smile but can't help himself. His eyes are the slightest bit lidded, emphasising the brilliance (and unfairness) of his lashes, so thick and dark you wonder if he's wearing makeup. 

"You can call me whatever you want to, but my name's Remus. I should've told you that before. I was… distracted." 

He isn't being coy, you realise. He easily could be if he wanted to, but he was genuinely lost for words for a second.

"I didn't really tell you mine," you say, hoping to ease his gentle confusion. 

He says your name like it's easy. Like he enjoys the sound of it. "Y/N. Do you like music?" 

Is that a trick question? His eyes trace up to your eyebrows as they pinch together, but he doesn't amend his question. Not a trick, then. 

"I like music,” you say.

"I realise it's brave to ask someone to come and see you on stage. And that I look like a tosser sometimes with the stage lights and makeup." 

"No," you say quickly, "you don't. You looked just fine. You looked good. I bet it's hard getting on stage like that, and in front of this many people. And singing. You have a really nice voice." 

His eyes soften. "Thank you. Do you wanna go get a drink with me? There's a bar. It's quiet." 

Your elbow brushes against his long sleeve. "Yeah." You're not breathless enough to embarrass yourself, but it's a close call. 

Remus leads you up and out of the seats. The venue is large in that it has just as many hallways and back rooms as it has places to watch the show. Remus’ warm hand catches your elbow, a friendly touch that guides you around the barrier and through a dimly lit hallway that takes you to the bar. 

The bar overlooks the stage, but the sound of the band and the crowd is dampened severely, making for a sorely needed respite. VIP's mill around the room on plush leather sofas and cushy bar stools sipping from sweating glass bottles. Remus' hand moves up to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as a familiar face waves you over. 

"Hey, it's you!" 

You smile at Remus' motorbike friend. You're a hundred percent sure his name is Sirius, but you won't say it aloud in case you're wrong. Beside him sits the other man you'd seen on stage with them, the guitarist with brown skin and a head full of thick hair. You look between the three of them in secret shock, wondering if handsome attracts handsome or if it's just dumb luck that they ended up together. 

"James, this is the babe that found Stacia," Sirius says.

James wrinkles his nose. "Hi," he says, in a voice that sounds deeply apologetic, years of it like the rings of a tree. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Um, and you?" 

"I'm good! Thanks, I'm good, it's nice of you to come see us. Did you like the show?" 

"Yeah, I did. I had no idea you guys were musicians." 

He splits his attention between you and his jacket. He pulls a glasses case out of his pocket, clicks it open, and straightens out a pair of wire frames. 

"Couldn't tell from our baby boy's general demeanour?" he asks. "Hey, that's better, I can see you now." 

"Sirius is the youngest," Remus says. 

"And the handsomest." 

"No, Marl's clearly the handsome one," James says lightly. 

Sirius takes the rebuttal in good jest and brandishes his drink toward you like a toast. "Want a beer?" 

"I'm getting her one," Remus says, "come on, give me a minute here." 

Everybody laughs. You laugh too, turning your face into your shoulder to smother the sound. 

"Well, come and sit with us, make yourself comfortable," James says, moving his jacket off of the chair in front of you.

Remus makes a small, apprehensive sound. "Drinks first." He looks to you for confirmation. "Yeah. We'll be back." 

You follow him to the bar. Your shoes, a pair of dirty converse you wish you'd swapped for heels or something sophisticated, squeal against the hardwood floor. How were you supposed to know you'd see him again tonight? In what world does stuff like this happen to scruffy waitresses? You're starting to think he might be somebody. 

Not that it matters if he is or isn't. 

But if he is… This is embarrassing, right? Not knowing who he is. 

There must be a couple thousand people here tonight. Then again, his band were the opening act, so it doesn't necessarily mean they're all famous or anything. 

"Hey," Remus says softly, stopping your thoughts cold. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine. Sorry. I've never been in here before, anywhere that's like it,” you say. 

"Venues are all different but the bars don't change," he says. "What do you like?" 

"I'm not a big drinker." 

"That's okay. I just wanted an excuse to be alone with you." He doesn't even give you time to recover. "Truth is, I wanted to ask you out. But between shows I couldn't find time, and next week I'm in San Marino." 

What you mean to say is, you wanted to ask me out? But instead, you choke, "You're going to Italy?" 

Remus pushes a seat out for you, helping you up with a solid hand, and, while your fingers are still warm from his touch, he says, "San Marino isn't Italy. I didn't know that 'til a few months ago. But pretty much." 

"What's in San Marino?" 

"A wedding." He climbs into the seat next to you, smiling.

The tan colour of his long-sleeves contrasts his pale hands. Your eyes flash to his ring finger. Not his wedding. 

Remus isn’t easy to talk to. It's not wholly his fault. He doesn't force conversation, leaving you awkwardly searching for something to say. You're not the best conversationalist either. He clearly doesn't mind it. 

You're in the midst of a clumsy retelling of a shitty customer service moment when he tips his head to the left just a touch. 

"Maybe we can go on an actual date when I'm home,” he says.

He says it like he's talking about the weather. You'd be worried he was messing with you, but then he smiles again, flicking his index finger against your wrist mildly. "You don't have to answer me now. Finish telling your story."

"It was pretty much finished. And– and I'd like to. Go on a real date. I've never been out of the country, so you'll have to forgive me if I want to know everything about San Marino." 

He looks at your lips. Says, "Good," and doesn't give any indication that he's noticed how nervous you are. That is, until he covers your trembling hand with his and presses it flat to the bar. 

"You're really pretty," he murmurs. He takes a moment, and he smiles. "Come with me? If I don't give Sirius some attention soon he'll start showing off."

— 

James is starting to wonder if he should invite you to San Marino. He's not that stupid; it would be a huge pain if you were standing in the middle of all his wedding photos and you and Remus don't work out. But, while he's certainly and majorly jumping the gun, he has a suspicion he’ll be seeing you again. 

James has never seen Remus like this before. 

His friend is usually quiet, quipping every now and then perhaps at Sirius' insufferable antagonism but otherwise brooding. He hasn't seen him smile this much, ever. 

James is under no illusions — he knows Remus loves him very much. He knows Remus is happy, and not always healthy but managing. He knows Remus is pleased with their lives and ecstatic to have their music take off. But he also knows Remus won't let himself have a good thing, not really. Maybe that's why he's asked you out now, when in a week they'll be in San Marino, and a week after that they'll be in Cardiff to officially start the new tour. 

He knows Remus, sweetheart, kind hearted, miraculous Remus, tends to let people down. He's a stickler for asking people out and cancelling the day before. It's how it always goes. James will ask how the date went and Remus will shake his head and say, "it didn’t work out." 

He knows Remus doesn't mean to hurt anybody. He just… can't get close. 

But he's trying, with you. A glass of cordial in one hand, the other behind your chair, Remus tells you one of his more embarrassing stories about how he'd taken a bad fall and ended up in A&E with half of an eyebrow. He doesn't mention the painkillers that made him woozy. 

You've relaxed considerably since sitting down. James would be happy to report that you're having a good time. You have your own drink in hand, and your eyes are bright, with a receding space between your face and Remus' as the story goes on. It's like watching two magnets fight to hold themselves apart.

Matter of time, James thinks to himself smugly. 

—

Honesty is important. You admit to yourself that you and Remus aren't exactly a perfect match. Both quiet, both not quite social butterflies, your conversations had occasionally been stilted and slow, but you've only met twice. Things don't have to be perfect, and more than that — there's a spark there. A twinge of a possibility. He'd liked what little he knew about you enough to ask to see you again, and you'd like what little you knew about him in turn to say yes. 

It doesn't have to be perfect, you insist to yourself, a bundle of nerves. Nothing does. 

He looks pretty perfect. Base of his palm pressed to the brick wall of the cafe, hand angled down as his fingers grasp the neck of a bouquet whose flowers have been shedding petals onto the damp pavement below. He holds his other hand against his chest, clicking buttons on his phone. 

You approach from the left and watch him play a game of Snake. 

"You play Snake?" you ask.

"Doesn't everybody?" he asks back, his smile softening what might otherwise feel like a chastisement. He doesn't look up from his phone.

"Woah, how long have you been out here?" you ask, eyeing his weirdly long snake.

Remus guides the snake into a wall on purpose. It dies, his high score flashes across the screen, and he aims an apologetic look your way. "Sorry, that was rude." He doesn't try to hide that he's looking over your face. "Thanks for coming." 

He leans in and kisses your cheek. Delighted warmth curls in your stomach, worse when he passes you the bouquet of flowers. They've mostly survived his poor treatment, and there's a lot of them. He's left the price tag on and you're not sure if he's noticed. You pretend not to see it. 

"Thank you…” You look away from the flowers, all whites and reds and baby’s breath, to ogle him as subtly as you can manage. “Wow, you've caught the sun. Was it lovely in San Marino?" 

"I'll tell you all about it over dinner,” he says. “I thought we'd walk, it's not far." He holds out his hand. You wipe your palm against your side before you take it, worried you'll have clammy hands. He must guess, because he says, "Don't be nervous." 

"I am," you say hopelessly. "I've never been on a date before." 

"This is your first date?" 

You feel a hot flush coming on. "I– yeah. That's embarrassing, I shouldn't have told you that." 

"No, it's a good thing. Now I know it has to be extra special." 

"It doesn't," you say. 

"I was hoping it would be." He pulls you down the pavement and further into the city centre toward the main high street. "San Marino. It was beautiful, and I took a couple of photos but I didn't have room on my phone. Well, I could've deleted Snake–" 

"Why would you?" you joke, grinning. 

He laughs, and squeezes your hand slightly. "Exactly. I have priorities. It's a long flight, and looking over the photos can only take up so much time. No, but it really was… it was beautiful. I'd never given much thought to a destination wedding. They make sense, right? It's the best day of your life, why would you have it here?" 

He tilts his chin toward the grey sky. You look up with him, feeling the cold wind kiss the sides of your face and pull through your hair. 

"Come on, Remus, it's not that bad. If it's sun you're after, you could just wait for British summer time. You know, the whole three days of it." 

He laughs — you've made him laugh twice already. This is going okay. Laughing while looking at one another, a bouquet in one hand and his hand in the other, you feel that curl of delight begin to bloom. It fills your insides up, has you smiling until your eyelashes brush in the corners. 

"It was James' wedding. Do you remember which one that was?" 

He asks so kindly. You don't doubt for a second that he wouldn't care if you forgot. It's refreshing, even if it's something you'd expect. 

"I remember. I didn't realise he was getting married." 

"Don't ever say that in front of him, he'll put himself on the cross." He swings your hand as you turn a corner. The Italian restaurant you'd agreed on winks from a distance. 

"He's devoted," you guess. 

"He's insane. He was worse when we were younger. His girlfriend– his wife," he amends, "Lily, she's really something else. Warm and funny, but she's been keeping him on his toes for years. She has family in San Marino, hence the wedding." 

You listen to him talk eagerly. His voice is as handsome as his face, and the more he says the less stilted he becomes. There had been a strained quality to it before (strained, or restrained? something he wasn't saying) that's all but disappeared. 

"It was like a movie. White linen, sand, crying." 

"Did you cry?" you ask, expecting a puffed up chest. 

"So much. Too much, maybe. I was half of the best man." 

"Half?" 

"We had to share, me and Sirius. They've always been…" Remus slows his steps. "Am I being boring? I'm talking too much about me." 

"We have time. I want to hear it. I'd like to hear it," you say. 

James and Sirius are brothers. Remus sees your surprised look and doesn't condemn you for it. Sirius is unofficially adopted. The Potter's fostered him from ages thirteen until he aged out, and though they tried to adopt him, Sirius was reluctant. Remus doesn't get into the reasons beyond that, and you don't ask. You suspect he's only telling you about it to drive home how much the Potter's love Sirius. How much James does. 

Remus had been Sirius' friend from their very first year of comprehensive school. Sirius moved in with the Potter's, and, adoring as they were, they let him have friends over whenever he liked. James, Sirius, and Remus spent the next decade together like that, hiding in Sirius' room. Best friends, entirely inseparable, and all fiercely protective of each other. 

"They've always been like brothers." 

"But not…" 

He understands what you're worried to say. "I think it would've been weird… I had a candle burning for James. For a long time." 

Your jaw drops a little. "And you just had to watch him have the most romantic wedding ever," you whisper sympathetically. You're joking: it's clear the candle isn't burning now. 

"Told you I cried," he says. "No, but you've seen him. He's a supermodel. It's awful." 

"Remus, I think you might be underestimating how handsome you are," you say. You bite your lip and look at his chin rather than his eyes. 

He's generous. He gives your wrist a tug and chuckles warmly. "I'm glad you think so. Tonight might have been awkward, otherwise." 

You duck together inside of the restaurant, hands falling apart as Remus gives his last name for the reservation. Lupin. Your face has a mind of its own. 

"Charming, isn't it?" 

"It is," you say emphatically, denying his sarcasm. "I've never heard anything like that. Lupine, like a fox?" 

"Wolf."

A server shows you to your table and hands you two leather covered menus. Leather, not plastic, a sign that tonight is going to be classy. You've dressed for the occasion in a smart blouse and slacks, too terrified of wearing a dress. Remus seems to have done the same as you, reaching for smart but dodging the mark in a button down and a casual jacket. When he takes off his coat, he looks perfect. He fits right in. 

"Could we get a glass?" he asks the server. "For the flowers? If it's not too much trouble." 

"No trouble at all." 

You run your hand across the silken tablecloth and the space between you both feels somehow smaller than when you'd been holding hands. Outside, you could let your gaze drift to the pavement, the fenced in trees, the couples that passed you by. Here, you're forced to watch one another. 

It's not so bad. It's agonising. 

"This is weird," you say. You flinch when you hear yourself. "Sorry, not that you're weird! I'm weird. I've never ever done this." 

"No, I know," he says, almost murmuring, "it's okay." 

"I just blurted out what I was thinking–" 

"I know." He sits back in his chair. His head tilts down, his eyelashes kissing the skin above his brows as he fixes you with a look. It has the intended effect, tension easing from your rigid spine and tight shoulders. "This is weird. But it's still early. It could get weirder." 

You like that he says it as if it's a good thing. 

You order the same thing he does, and you don't turn down his offer to get a bottle of wine, though it feels too grown up. You keep forgetting you're an adult, and that your life isn't on hold. Things can happen to you at any time. 

"I want to address the elephant in the room," he says. 

Not promising. "Okay." 

"Are we having dessert?" Remus leans forward on both forearms. Hair falls in his eyes. He's dressed nicely and he's handsome but there's something homespun about him, something golden. You can't help looking at him and thinking impossibly forward thoughts, cheesy waffle from the films. He's familiar. "Nobody ever wants to get dessert with me. It's actually a real issue for me." 

"I'll get dessert with you." A smoother you with more confidence, who wore the dress and asked him to go to the Thai restaurant instead, would've said something more suave. We're having whatever you want, handsome.

Remus flips the menu to the very last page and reads the desserts aloud. For himself, it seems, half-muttered and apprehensive. "Chocolate cake from places like this will either be the nicest thing we've ever eaten or burnt in the microwave. And it's childish that I want chocolate cake. I should be spoon feeding you creme brulee. Or whipped cream and strawberries." 

He tips his head back and rubs his eyes. It's a charade of feigned self loathing that makes you laugh. 

"I'm a child," he laments, thumb and index finger pressed into his eyes. He checks to see if you're watching before doubling down. 

"I like cake," you say, and you'd lie if you thought it was what he wanted to hear. Handsome, kind, and funny. Not to mention talented. He needs smart for the sweep. 

Remus falls out of his dramatics. You mourn the loss, beggy a good look on him, but forget all about it when he slides his chair around the table to share the menu with you, your heads inclined as you read it together again. He smells woody. You hope he likes the jasmine of your perfume. 

"It all sounds really nice," you confide, afraid to disturb the comfortable hush. "I haven't had gelato since I was a kid. Oh, did they have real gelato in San Marino?"

“They had a lot of stuff in San Marino… I want to hear about you.”

“What do you want to hear?”

The questions start and don’t stop. Where did you grow up? That’s the easy part. What did you study in school? Were you in sports? The art club? And what do you do now, when you aren’t working in the cafe? The more he asks, the easier it is to answer. He doesn’t slow when the waiter brings a glass for your bouquet, simply stands and places them inside with exceedingly gentle hands, smiling at you from between the stems. You eat slowly when the food arrives — you're busy talking. 

It feels fucking amazing. To have someone want to know anything about you. And unless he’s an actor of the highest regard, he’s obviously enjoying your conversations, though they wilt and wane and wind around one another. You lose track of time and thread as the night goes on, distracted by the near unnoticeable asymmetry of his smile, and the way he laughs when you laugh, like an echo. 

You get cake like he wanted. Triple fudge cake with buttercream thick but melting from the heat. It looks straight from the pages of a magazine, glossy and dusted with sugar powder, but he doesn’t seem to like it. He takes a couple of bites and leaves it alone. You don’t want to look greedy, so you do the same. 

The date is suddenly over. 

“Could I walk you home?” he asks, when you’ve both put your coats back on, and the damp roots of your flowers are leaving an imprint on your chest. 

You nod rather than answer. 

Things are good, not perfect. That’s what you keep thinking. There’s something he isn’t saying. Or, horrifyingly, something he doesn’t like about you. Still, the sky is velvet black and the air is crisp. Stars like needlepoints dot the air. Street lights work to hide them, casting a warm yellow glow over the pavements and your meandering shoes. 

A brisk wind whips past you. You shiver and press your lips together hard, hands quick to rigidity. Remus looks at you sideways, and breaks the quiet. “Are you cold?”

“A little.” No point in lying when he can see you trembling. 

“Do you want my coat?”

“No, no, it’s alright–“ You cut off as he steps in front of you, his hand vying for yours. 

He tucks the flowers under his arm and sandwiches your fingers between his. He has short fingernails, and another scar down one pinky finger. How’d you get that one? you want to ask. How’d you get any of them?

His breath clouds the air. “I should’ve thought about the cold.”

“This is better,” you say. Than a warm taxi home. His thumbs brushing down the backs of your hands. 

You walk to your flat building and hesitate at the foyer door. The potential for a kiss goodnight has flayed your thoughts. The image of his hands climbing your arms, holding you still, plays like a flickering film. You have no idea if he’s going to do it. 

“How will you get home?” you ask quietly. 

“I parked by the cafe, it isn’t far.”

“Oh…” The lights from your building paint him the faintest shade of pink. Your breath fogs out in front of you, as does his, and the warmth of walking will soon fade. “I–“

“Here,” he says, handing you the flowers again. 

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“Fits the recipient.”

It takes a second for you to get it. Oh, you think. You can hardly feel the cold now. Your heart hurts, and you’re begging him to want to take a step toward you. The silence goes for too long. 

“I– I’d love to see you again,” you say. Love comes out funny. Maybe because you can feel his rejection coming. 

“I won’t be here next week. Not for a long time. We’re touring properly, now.” He scratches the side of his face.

“Right. Right, of course you are. Um, good luck with that. And thank you for tonight, for dinner.” You wave your flowers weakly. 

He looks at you. He takes a half step toward you. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. 

“You really are pretty,” he says finally. “Goodnight.”

He smiles quick and turns quicker. You watch him walk a few steps but ultimately can’t face it, pushing into the foyer of your building with a hardset frown. Your hands shake, minute abstractions of the sharp rejection panging in your chest. Your ears roar and then go quiet. What did I do wrong? you think, shocked and upset and trying to rationalise. He doesn’t have to kiss you. He asked you out on a maybe, and now whatever question he had is answered. 

The door creaks open. You spin on your heel, too wrapped up to think about hiding your expression. Remus stands in the doorway of the porch, his arm pressed to the glass panel, the other held out to you. 

"Come here," he says quietly. It isn't a question, but he's asking. 

You step into his reach, letting him pull you by the waist against his chest. He leans down until his nose glances against ýours, and he starts to say something. You push your chin up in your eagerness and he doesn't try again. He kisses you, once, contrite, and he pulls back and his hand clasps your arm tight as he ducks in for another. His lips are fast to lose the cold of the weather, but his tongue is a hot shock at the seam of your own. 

You go weak in his arms. The flowers between you crunch and smother themselves. You can’t think about it. Your hands are numb. He takes over every one of your senses until you’re more kiss than thought, reciprocating his slow, deep searching. You run out of breath. 

He eases you backward, cupping the side of your head in his big palm. 

“I want to see you again,” he says hoarsely. “But I– I don’t know when I’ll be back.” His hand adjusts against your cheek, like he’s worried you’re slipping out of his hold. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I can wait,” you say. 

“I couldn’t ask you to.”

You rub your buzzing lips together, each heaven of your chest marked by the crinkling sound of cellophane. 

“Do you want to come upstairs?” you ask.

He strokes the edge of your mouth with his thumb. “Are you sure?”

You kiss him. You don’t know if this will work, any of it, the broad stroke or this one night, but you want him. 

—

Remus doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows how to fuck somebody, that isn’t the problem. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with you. The same thing that made him walk away had pulled him right back in, had him skipping steps on the staircase up to your flat, drinking in the back of your head and roll of your shoulders as you’d made apologies for the mess inside.

He doesn’t feel like himself when he’s with you. He thinks of it like this — what he is, his pain, his wants, that’s all set in stone. Any change is an erosion, and little by little over the years he’s managed to whittle himself down into the smallest, cleanest version of himself. Then suddenly the band’s making money, people are listening to his voice on the radio in countries all over the world, and he can’t hide anymore. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, after all. What else inspires a performer into the spotlight? The music, he thinks desperately, knowing it’s half a lie. 

Isn’t it why he’d asked you to the show? Come and watch me sing. See me at my most impressive. My most curated. 

And now he’s following you into your bedroom after one date, about to strip it all away. 

“You didn’t have too much wine, did you?” he asks. You hadn’t really finished your first glass, but it won’t hurt to make sure. 

You peel your jacket off and drop it over the back of a wide armchair. “I don’t think so. Did you?”

“No.” His head has never been this clear. 

He thinks about what you said. This is your first date, and he’s not clueless enough to assume that never going on a date means never having sex, but he wants to be careful with you anyway. He wants this to last beyond a dinner date. 

Which means he has to get out of his head. 

Beyond all of his own mess, he really does think you're pretty. More than pretty. You’re beautiful, and your voice… 

He wants to see what other sounds you make. 

Remus gets his hands on you. Soft touches, his hands coasting from your elbows to your warming hands. He squeezes your fingers, leaning in for a quick kiss. He rests his nose against the skin beneath your eye. “Tell me if it’s too much?” he asks, a murmur of hot air. 

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go slowly.”

“Okay.” Your voice is barely audible. 

He pulls away to make sure you’re alright, and is surprised to see a glassy sheen in your eyes. He holds your face in both hands and works your lips open against his, guiding you backwards into the plush of your poorly made bed. He’s all sweet touches and eager kisses, cautious not to hurt you, or let too much of his weight press against your soft torso. His kisses follow to the corner of your mouth, the tip of his nose tender against your cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he says. He isn’t complaining, but he wants to hear your voice. 

“I’m a bit preoccupied.”

He laughs into your skin, kissing down to your jaw. “You’re right,” he says, revelling in the goosebumps that rise under his hands. 

Your shaking inhales cleave a pit in his stomach. He mouths at the side of your neck, half-kisses, tiny warning nips before he thumbs open the first button of your shirt. He meanders, dropping a path crescent moon kisses into your front until the fabric of your bra gets in the way. The soft hill of your breast staggers to a halt beneath him. He can tell that you’re holding deliberately still. 

Kisses. You need more kisses, an absolution from any lingering nervousness. Your hands thread into his hair gently, your fingers raking wavy strands behind his ears as you give in. You melt into your sheets, your legs parting from the pressure of his hips. 

Your hands fall from his hair to needle between your two bodies and undo the rest of your buttons. The fabric falls aside, your chest and tummy his to catalogue. He drops his hand against your stomach, smoothing a line down to your slacks. His lips ache against yours as he asks, “Can I?”

“Please.”

“Please?” he says back, mirroring your soft tone. “You think you need to say please?” His pinky bumps under the waistband of your trousers. There isn’t much give. He traces the lining to your zipper, fiddling with the small piece of metal as your eyes darken. “I should be the one saying it.” His voice keeps dropping, an utterance in the shell of your ear, his words for you and you alone. “I’m at your mercy, dove. Don’t say please with me. Okay?” 

He smiles at your daunted expression. “Can I take these off?” he asks you, his fingertip running under the edge of your underwear. “Please?” he teases.

Your skin is a furnace, hot hot hot everywhere he touches as you nod your permission and Remus undresses you, one piece of clothing at a time. Your trousers, your shirt. Your bra, your underwear. His fingers slip in his ardency as he tears out of his own button down. 

Your thumb traces a scar. 

He looks up from your chest, startled, but you aren’t giving him anything he doesn’t want. There’s no pity in your gaze, no curiosity, no sadness. Just lust, your trembling hands pulling his slacks down the lengths of his thighs. 

He pulls the condom from his wallet in his pocket and lets it fall to the floor. 

Remus hooks his hands under your arms and urges you back against the headboard, a pillow behind your head, your thighs tipping open as his hand runs down between them. He grabs at them greedily, handfuls of fat that have his mouth dry as a bone. 

“Has anyone ever done this to you before?” he asks. He needs to know.

You squeeze your eyes closed and shake your head. 

Fuck. “Hey, look at me,” he says, waiting for your eyes to meet before continuing. “I just want to make you feel good. If I don’t, you let me know.”

He waits for you to answer aloud. “I will,” you say, your hand behind his back and urging him forward. “Please.”

“What did I say?” he jokes gently, letting his weight bear down on you again. 

He closes his eyes, his lips in what feels like a new home at the juncture of your neck. His hands skirt dangerously close to your heat. 

He’s gentle. He rubs a sweeping line against your cunt with the front of his fingers, heart hammering fast as a mouse’s when he finds the little button of your clit. You shiver and shudder and squirm as he toys with you, your fingers steadfast against the plane of his back while he opens you up. His lips part in tandem, not nearly as kind as his hands. His teeth scratch against your throat. 

Your soft moans move through him as he hickeys over your pulse, chasing each capering thud of blood. He winds you up. You’re snug around his fingers, fluttering, and he knows he’s probed something sweet when your breath catches and you whine. 

“Was that alright?” he asks. 

You nod, heavy headed, and lick your lips as he tears open the condom and eases it onto his cock, one measured roll at a time. 

“Can you– I want you to–” You turn your face from him, the line of your jaw kissed by the lamplight outside, and the rest hidden. 

He drags you down to lay flat on your back and holds himself over you, nudging his nose against yours until you lift your head. Face to face, he gives himself time to adore the shape and colour of your eyes, the side of his hand brushing along your cheek. “Do you think you’re ready?” he asks sincerely. The slickness between your legs is obvious, but he doesn’t want to blindside you. “It will feel…”

You nod, saving him the explanation. It will feel weird. Good, but foreign. “Will you kiss me again?” you ask feebly.

He can’t stop himself. He kisses your lips sore, his hand behind the crook of your knee pushing your leg up toward your stomach as he slides into the space he’s made there. He breaks the kiss to listen to your breathing as he pushes forward.

Remus hadn’t been lying — he wants it to feel good. He takes it slow, his thrusting almost languid as you get to grips with the feeling. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, struggling to smother the moan that escapes him as he feels you clench around him. You gasp, your arms tightening around his waist, destroying any semblance of space between your sweat-damp bodies as you hold him tight. He murmurs praises in your ear, his forearms tucked beneath your shoulder blades, hands gripping your shoulders a touch too hard. He can’t remember the last time he was this close to somebody, can’t remember ever feeling so maddeningly lost, like he’s one good push from hurtling over the edge. 

He kisses your cheek, calling you all the things he’d been too scared to say before. “Lovely girl,” he pants, “how’s that feel?” And, when you answer, “Yeah, you’re taking it so well, dove. Think you can take a little more?”

All that nervousness and desperation shrinks down to dust, and the smiling girl he’d been with at dinner comes to the forefront. There’s no mistaking it. You giggle something awful and turn your face into his, kissing him between sounds, dizzying him with the tender scratch of your nails down his back as he starts to move. 

“There she is,” he says lightly, almost smirking. “Feel good?”

“Feels– oh,” —you shiver violently, filled all the way up— “feels good.” 

Remus let’s his forehead fall to your chin, his eyes closed in pleasure, his cock to the hilt. Every move he makes evokes a near sinful sound from you, mewling, silvery whimpers and pleased little laughs when he angles his hips right. He’s a mess, desperate to cum from the second you touched him and running on stolen time as he presses you deep into your mattress. One of your hands flies backward into the pillows and scrunches up into a ball, the look on your face too tempting to ignore. 

The first time you fuck someone — it’s never timed right. Remus knows he hasn’t quite figured you out, but he knows enough to get you where he wants you. He slides his hand between your bodies and your soft cunt to draw circles into your clit, entranced by your twitching lashes as the pleasure builds. You chase him with your hips, and he grabs your hand at the last second to stop you from covering your mouth, holding it above your head as you come apart. 

He cooes at you. The sound you make — the breathless little cry that leaves you, your hips jutting up to meet him. He’s at your mercy, just like he said. 

Remus fucks into the extra tightness, drawing your climax out for as long as he can. You’re smiling as you shove his arm away, a playful chastisement that wanes when you see the look on his face. “Are you close?” you ask, brushing a curled strand of hair from his eyes. 

Close? Remus is fucked. 

“You can go faster,” you say, “rougher, whatever you want.”

“Shit,” he hisses, leaning back. 

His rutting hips slap the backs of your thighs. He squeezes your waist, his eyes fixed on your cunt as it pulls him in. One last wavering, “Oh, fuck,” from you is all it takes for Remus to lose it. White hot pleasure tightens his whole body, his abdomen aflame. You scramble to gather him back into your arms. You kiss him, swallowing his resulting string of moans. 

He has to catch his breath afterward. You comb the hair back from his face, your eyes droopy with pleasure.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, voice stringy.

“Of course not.” You’re quickly losing your confidence. Remus hates it, but he understands. This vulnerability can only stretch so far. 

“Let me clean you up,” he says.

“You look like you’re gonna fall over if you stand.”

He strokes your face with the back of his ring finger, his nail ghosting along the highest point of your cheek. “Funny,” he says dryly. 

He gets confused in your bathroom, and you won’t let him towel you off, but when he lies down beside you with his boxers back in place you don’t push him away. You drop your face into his chest and curl up. 

He drags the quilt over your naked back. 

Was that okay? he wants to ask. “Sore?” he worries instead. 

“Don’t think so.”

He chews his cheek. “You’re alright?”

You stir, looking up at him through your lashes. He thinks you’re the kind of pretty people might not always see. You’re clearly beautiful, but there’s something else to it. The way you move, maybe. The way your eyes smile before your lips can catch up. 

“I’m fine. I’m good… Can I…”

He hums. “What?”

“Could I kiss you again?” 

You speak so quietly, he hears the vibration in your throat more than the sound of your voice. It’s endearingly timid. He feels his attraction for you flare violently. 

He wants to ask you to come with him to Cardiff. He knows he can’t. It’s yards too soon, but for a second he entertains the thought. 

“Wait for me to come home,” he says. He’s still asking for more than he should. “I want to see you again. You can kiss me as much as you want, if you say you’ll wait.”

You nod immediately. Not a flicker of reluctance to be seen. 

You lift your chin and kiss him. He tries to make it the kind of kiss worth waiting for.  

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging cos it helps more than you might think <3

[4mnji]

OPPOSITES ATTRACT ᡣ𐭩 goth!choso x coquette!reader

warnings: nothing to heavy just some kissing n ass touching at the end, choso n reader r like 20, abbreviations and lowercases intended, n word usage once, written with a black women in mind but anyone can read ofc 😚

wc: 628

a/n : hihi guysss im nini and welcome to my debut post. this has been sitting in my notes along with some other stuff i’ve written for the longestttt time and im ready to share them to the world now. i hope yall enjoy these hcs of my bbygirl choso :3

goth!choso who’s been well..emo for as long as he can remember. the nigga was 13 years old dressing like rodrick heffley and listening to heavy metal rock music 😭 like he wasn’t playing bout this lifestyle.

goth!choso who always thought that his future gf would’ve been someone who is just as emo and gothic as he was but boy was he wrong.

goth!choso who couldn’t explain why coquette!reader caught his attention so quickly. he’s never been a fan of the cute pink girly aesthetic, not that he hated it but y’all know he been an emo since he basically came out his momma’s womb, so he always preferred if girls had a similar aesthetic to him. all that didn’t even cross his mind when he laid his eyes on u, how could it when u just looked so pretty n cute ???!

goth!choso who wasn’t even planning to approach u and was just going to head home and lie in his bed while reminiscing abt the cute girl he saw in the cafe. that is until u decided to approach him and compliment his outfit. a cute pink blush creeps up onto his cheeks and he doesn’t even get to thank u bc he so busy admiring how beautiful u are. u give him a gorgeous smile and hand him a little note that says “text me •ᴗ•” with ur number on it. with that beautiful smile still plastered on ur face, u wave ‘bye’ to him and walk away.

goth!choso who gets home that day contemplating with his phone in his hand if he should text u or not. after a good 10 mins of pacing around his room and giving himself some motivational talk, he sends u a message and exits the messaging app almost immediately.

goth!choso who’s kinda surprised when u actually respond to his message in less than 2 minutes. from that point on u n choso hit it off from there.

goth!choso who’s been with coquette!reader for almost a year now and he loves u so so much !! he was always more than happy to give u money so u could buy more of those cute lil bows and accessories that u loved wearing or those pink coquette themed decor items that u loved placing all throughout ur apartment. he adored ur obsession with the coquette lifestyle sm. he thought it was so adorable and loved ur dedication towards it.

goth!choso who has grown accustomed to the color pink and even started wearing n buying more pink clothing just so he could match with u sometimes. u knew ur bf wasn’t a huge fan of pink and u always thought he would stick with his dark aesthetic so it made u extremely happy when u saw him frequently starting to wear pink clothing !

goth!choso who has begged u numerous times to try out the emo/gothic style bc he was really curious to see how u would look in it. eventually u caved in and decided to surprise him and got this outfit and wore it to one of ur date nights with him. he couldn’t get over how good u looked and this just confirmed for him that u would always look good no matter what aesthetic u had !! when he took u back to his apartment, he wouldn’t even let yall get through the door before he picked u up, hands rubbing all up on ur ass while he left long sloppy kisses along ur jawline and neck, attempting to take u to his room without bumping into a wall or a piece of furniture.

goth!choso & coquette!reader who r the exact definition of opposites attract !!

moodboards ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

[with-my-calamitous-love]

THINKIN’ ALL LOVE EVER DOES IS BREAK, AND BURN, AND END… ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

eijiro kirishima x reader

after possibly the worst heartbreak of your entire life, you finally get to begin again with a certain redhead. for his birthday <3

for @satirediary who said i remind them of kirishima 🤍

inspired by begin again

you take a deep breath in the mirror.

after adjusting your outfit for what feels like the millionth time, the anxiety sets in. you wonder if this guy, who you’ve never met before, is gonna like your outfit. the last guy sure didn’t, especially those high heels. but you do, and thats what should matter. right?

when you get to the cafe, you honestly expect him to be late. but to your surprise, he’s early, waving at you and pulling out your chair. you thank him, but he’s a gentleman at heart. “you look nice.” he says, his sharp toothy grin being just odd enough to be cute. you smile, brushing off your shirt and trying not to make the blush on your face so obvious. this is your first actual date since your previous relationship, after all.

you and monoma went down in flames. for a minute there, he ruined you for every other guy. he left you so sad and so heartbroken you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to love someone else. but after mina’s third insistence on meeting this great guy, you finally go.

“mina’s told me a lot about you.” you smile, watching as the redhead nods, urging you to go own. you list off all the great things she’s said about him, leaving out the comments on his hot body and his apparently large package.

he honestly doesn’t know why you’re coming off shy as you share stories. at one point, he just watches you talk, loving your your rambles and anecdotes. his friends told him that first dates are awkward, but you two talk like old friends. no rust on telephones or reservations on jokes. he doesn’t get how someone as pretty and as kind as you would ever be nervous telling jokes or stories. but you do.

this guy isn’t your ex boyfriend, evident by his genuine interest in you. he laughs along with you, listening to everything you say. you can tell by his red eyes on yours, actually answering your questions and asking you follow ups. seemingly, he cares about what you have to say. he doesn’t know how nice that is, but you do.

“i saw you on tv once.” you giggle, on your second cup of coffee. neither of you wanna leave each other’s presences right now. “it was years ago, when your class was at that forest training camp.”

“oh yeah? did i look good?” he says, playfully flexing his arm muscles because he loves that pink blush on your face. god, he’s built like he was sculpted. but you’re not gonna let him know that, even though you subconsciously place your hand on his bicep, feeling the firmness of his muscles.

“you know, anabolic steroids are terrible for you.” you quip as he feigns offence. its the first time you’ve genuinely laughed in months. theres probably smile lines on your face now.

he throws his head back laughing like a little kid. its honestly strange to you how funny he finds you- you never really thought you were before. you’ve spent the last 8 months questioning your self worth, wondering if all love ever does is break your heart. but now, in some cafe you can’t remember, with a guy your best friend set you up with, you get to begin again.

the date evolves into walking down the block. you do a mental backflip when he finally works up the courage to hold your hand, the chilled autumn air no match for his big, warm hands. his fingers intertwine with yours lime they’re meant to be there. funny how monoma’s hands never did that.

just at that thought, you almost bring him up. the thought of him now still makes that feeling in your chest arise. how he never liked your heels, how he never found you funny, and how he’d never walk you to your car like kirishima was doing now.

either he senses your anxiety, or is just a ray of sunshine, but he eases your worries with a squeeze to your hand and a continuing of his anecdotes from earlier. “my family watches spirited away every christmas, because its my moms favourite movie. without fail.”

its a minute detail, but you wonder if he brought that up because he remembered you mentioning studio ghibli hours ago. its enough to ease your worries.

“i love that movie.” you utter, heart still racing from the close contact. “oh, i- uh, said that already. sorry.”

but he doesn’t hold it to you for reusing that fact. “don’t apologize, i think its cute.”

and for the first time, you wanna hear what he says. you hope he tells you about the movies his family watches, about his hot-headed best friend and the hero agency he works at. you urge him on as he rambles about the weed brownies denki makes, or the time he almost got expelled from UA. they’re dumb anecdotes, but it feels more genuine than anything else you’ve ever felt.

picturing a future with kirishima, no matter how naive or wishful it may be, brings a smile to your face. for the first time, maybe ever, its something you want. he’s effortless, his affection towards you easy for him. maybe you were never hard to love after all. maybe you just had to wait for the right guy.

when you reach your car, you almost don’t want the date to end. “i had a nice time.” you smile. though its what you always say at the end of a date, this time you mean it.

“me too.” he the redhead says, still holding your hand. “next time i’ll come pick you up. it’ll be easier for both of us.”

there, you blush again, a fond smile on your lips. “next time?”

now, he’s the one flustered, realizing his slip up. he rambles out apologies for assuming, his cheeks matching the red of his hair. after all, he’s just a person to. he’s experienced heartbreak like you have. this is likely a new beginning for him, as well.

you stay silent, but you do press a kiss to his cheek before letting go and heading into your car. he pretends the little happy dance you do before starting up and driving back home.

he’ll definitely tease you for that next date.

[astrologylunadream]

Who am I destined to love?💌☁️🔗 [Soulmate reading] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream🤗 We will be doing a reading on your destined lover!💗 hope you find your message🌸💫

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the love you long for, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🌸🌟

Pile 1🦊

Pile 2🦢

Pile 3🛋

Pile 4🎹

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 💌

Pile 1🦊

Sign energy: Forgiveness, Anger, True feelings, Fame, Singer, 3rd house, Cancer, Moon, North node, Gemini, 🪐🧩🌃🛎

☁️Your energy: You guys have a fiery energy about you, very kind and fun loving. You are very emotional and tend to have outbursts if your emotional state is not safe or well taken care of. You could love singing and I'm getting a more specific message that someone in this pile has a famous parent/mom, a singer mom if there are any of you in my pile 1😆 You get frustrated easily but those feelings come from your true heart, and you express yourself openly and genuinely. I feel like this pile doesn't back down when angry💢 You could be a night owl, prefer the night time. I feel like you're more in touch with your emotions at night, like cinderella I'm hearing "when the clock strikes twelve" and suddenly you are your true self at night, your openly emotional real self.♡ You may feel inclined to become famous or a public speaker, sharing your thoughts and ideas with those who need it the most.

💘Who you're destined to love: Fox, Neck, Taurus, Gemini, Fix, Leo, South node, Air, Aries, Water, 🎡🦀🍭🚀 A very fun and gorgeous person awaits my pile 1, if you were drawn to the fox here it came out again so this is your confirmation this is definitely the pile!! This could be someone from your past, you will feel a sense of familiarity with this person. They have a more so direct approach to communication and think fast. Very witty, intelligent and a natural problem solver. Taurus, Gemini, Leo, or Aries placements, they may have Sun conjunct Venus or Mercury I feel. They have a very attractive neck, especially with the Taurus energy. As for the purpose of this destiny, I'm seeing as someone you are destined to fix, almost help in a way, your love is meant to heal this person on an emotional level. They will be so glad they met you, like you were fated to help them. It's giving heaven sent angel vibes <3 They will see you as an answer to their prayers, and things will only look up from there.😊 This destiny is an emotional journey for you both, connecting through mutual understanding and comforting one another is the true reason for this connection. It will heal and nurture your hearts greatly.♡ It will be a fun, pleasant and in some ways childlike relationship made of pure love and trust.

💌Messages from them: I'll never forget you, I finally get it, Our love is a game, I know exactly how you like it, I see you, Extra cards: Daily, Follower, Angel, Green, Crazy, 8th house, Earth, Chiron, Water, Sun, (Guardian angel vibes🥺💫)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the fox emoji~🦊 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞

Pile 2🦢

Sign energy: Cafe, Long term, Endurance, Stomach, Hair, North node, Aquarius, Gemini, ⛵😂🌉🤍

☁️Your energy: You guys have such a graceful vibe, I see so much pure cleansed energy with this pile. Elegant swan energy for you guys <3 Most of you in this pile are looking for long term commitment, so you may be hoping that the one you are destined to love is someone you will be with for a long time. Some of you work as a barista/job at a cafe☕💕 Your hair is gorgeous and people talk about it a lot.💇‍♀️ Aquarius and Gemini placements overall air signs but I'm getting such indirect Virgo energy from this pile omgggg any Virgo's in my lovely pile 2??😂 Btw this emoji!!😂😂😂 Do you use it alot?? Could be significant for any of this pile, you may laugh a lot and your laugh is very light and beautiful. I'm seeing a future of laughing and happiness with this pile I feel like that is also your destiny to just, laugh and have fun. Just loosen up a bit and enjoy the little things that make you happy, being grateful is meant for you my pile 2's <3 You have such an angelic presence about you, so admirable and full of kindness and beauty. You may want to meet your future but don't like the steps to get there, but I'm hearing only of you endure the journey of your hopes can you arrive at the destination of fulfilling them. Haha maybe that resonates with some of you, I feel like you may drink coffee or tea often. Cafes are your jam!

💘Who you're destined to love: Comfort, Love, Shame, Present, Blind, 12th house, Lilith, Eros, Neptune, Air, 🤣🤒😤🧲 Okaaay my pile 2's we have some interesting energy going on with this 👏person👏 You are definitely destined with this person romantically, I'm hearing fated connection. This is someone who is seemingly new or not experienced with love, they make mistakes and don't know what they're doing most of the time.🥺 They also have so many fantasies about it some that they are shameful of or embarrassed to meet, they have a some darker needs too in a romantic connection. Many of their turn on's in a partner are subconscious fears aswell. I get the vibe this person isn't the best at communiting their desires, it makes them feel vulnerable and out of place like a fish out of water. Pisces/12th house and air placements are possible. They are a dreamer, they have this "where am I? Who am I?" type of vibe😂😂 like they are just one with the energies, I feel like this person is very in tune with the spiritual side of life themselves. Your person is very attractive in a soft aesthetic way, ethereal and beyond physical charms that rope you in like a buoy in the crashing waves of the sea🌊 You are destined to love this person with all your heart, to cherish eachother on levels deeper many can experience. A soulmate connection is likely, and this is such a deep and contemporary romance as well as passionate. You will fulfill many desires with this person, because they take you to higher places you can't explain. I was also getting some "spicy"👀 messages coming out in this pile but since this is not an 🔞 reading I was like 👁👄👁 "not today-" LOL it will not complement the soft/dreamy vibe of this reading lol😂👌 So for my pile 2's that are interested, your person has some intense desire for you for sure maybe check out my dark pac readings for some messages in that😅😳 :'> Overall this is a very intuitive and romantic person, they are all giving and all consuming in this destined love with you.💗

💌Messages from them: I don't look at other people, I'm addicted to your love, You might get hurt, I have nothing to give, I'm not okay (🥺🥺💔) Extra cards: Alien, In, Fantasy, Shopping, Age, 12th house, 9th house, Sagittarius, Jupiter, 6th house (Destiny calls to heal this person and their fantasies, to either restrict or enhance their deepest desires.)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the swan emoji~🦢 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞

Pile 3🛋

Sign energy: Try, Activity, Library, Unicorn, Keep a secret, Chiron, Gemini, Vertex, Sun, 3rd house, 😫👿🕯⛓

☁️Your energy: Alright my pile 3's could be Gemini, Leo, Virgo or prominent 3rd house energy. I'm getting some heavy vibes with this some, something is telling me that many in this pile are new to tarot or giving it a try for the first time or for some could have quit for a while and come back for some answers. If you felt this way this definitely could be your pile. I am sensing some worried energy, my pile 3's are not telling anyone what they have been up to recently🤫🙊 You have been keeping this to yourself, and maybe even the idea of loving someone is something you are not ready to share just yet. You guys are very unique and smart, you have a talent for knowing things and speaking well. Sometimes you have a dark side that you don't want to show, and it is your deepest worries and thoughts that hold you down. You may read a lot, there could be many book lovers in this pile. I feel as if you are afraid of fate hence why you are trying to see the future you are uncertain of.😟 My pile 3's are very cautious people especially when it comes to life and fate. You are heavily drawn to the occult, but also fear those practices. You see fate and destiny as chains that weigh you down, and you wish to break free to finally reach the clouds above. You are an independent and spiritually wise thinker.

💘Who you're destined to love: Fight, First, Honey, Spring, Skin, 4th house, Cancer, Water, Moon, Capricorn, 🛎🤞☔🍑 Okay my lovely pile 3's I keep getting an anxious energy, this could be about love itself. I hope this may ease my pile 3's uncertainties of the future.😞💖 This person you are destined to love has a strong personality, one that somehow compliments yours. Okay but like when you guys first meet??😍 I'm getting some passionate and bold conflict turned into something really sweet💞 I feel like you argued with this person a lot when you first met, but then after you set aside your disagreements you realized how caring and loving they can be.😢 You may have gotten very defensive about yourself or things they told you, but you soon learned to listen to their words as they hold truth and only wish to help you. They may be born in spring. Cancer and Capricorn energy is strong for this pile's person, you are destined to meet them. This connection will show you to be less skeptical and afraid of conflict and disagreement, and to learn how to understand those who seem cold or not "good" on the surface. I'm feeling this person wasn't nice to you at first, only after you loosened up from the emotional shell you tried to protect yourself with. They finally started being nice to you without reason, or perhaps you didn't realize their kindness until then. This connection is meant to shift perspectives, and hold security in trusting others. This is such a powerful lesson within this fated love omggg😭💗 Some of you might marry this person!!💍

💌Messages from them: Are you attracted to me? Don't talk to me, You can't control me, I'll only distract you, I'll never forgive you (My pile 3 your person really cares about you and they tend to push you away and it seems like they're brushing you off but that's how they show their love for you by removing themselves from the situation to let you heal and take your time😭🤍) Extra cards: One of a kind, Feminine, Hold on, Style, Juno, Moon, Eros, 9th house, Scorpio, Taurus (Omgg they see you as a devine feminine to them, their other half. They want to marry you for real!!🥺)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the sofa emoji~🛋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞

Pile 4🎹

Sign energy: Find, Desert, Quiet, Winter, Hands are tied, Eros, 7th house, Sagittarius, Pisces, Earth, 🖌🕯💘🥊

☁️Your energy: Ohh I'm loving the energy of pile 4 we have some prominent Jupiter placements here!! Could be a Libra, Sagittarius or Pisces somewhere in your charts <3 earth signs are possible. I'm definitely getting Sag/Pisces vibes from you guys😇 Creative dreamers searching for self expression and love~ some of you may be more on the quiet/shy side or more submissive in relationships. But outside of them you are a free spirit with a wild heart, you just love having fun and doing the things that make you happy. You want to find a soulmate, someone who is spiritually tied to you... who's heart is locked to yours eternally. You are looking for a person who will appreciate your creativity and spirituality, your soft and illusive dreamy self with a passion to explore life and everything you love. You may be an artist/painter or enjoy those activities, or physical sports like weight lifting or going to the gym. Could be interested in boxing. You are a fighter and a lover because you fight for love. May be born in winter, also I'm getting specific middle east vibes so some of you could be from there.💫💕

💘Who you're destined to love: Soulmates, Forgiveness, Backwards, 11th house, Date, Mars, Cancer, Venus, 1st house, Lilith, 🤕🍳🍂🏷 This is someone from your past, now I'm getting some past lover vibes. For some of you this is an ex, or someone you had an argument with. I'm sensing someone you will meet online, or have possibly already met before. I am seeing that in the beginning of this connection, you or them were too impulsive or quick to complain about the way things started off between you two. After some time I'm seeing the work of fate brings you back to this person, and you will be surprised how much they held on to this connection.😦 Like you will be shocked how much this person really cared (maybe you thought they would be angry/distant with you) but like this person will be on their knees for you omg.😖😳 This person is very emotional and honestly so deeply in love with this pile and they just want a second chance😞💕 They regret their past decisions and the way they treated you, and fate is calling you to accept and love them, this is after all who you are destined to love. There may have been a misunderstanding in the beginning or a first impression that affected your judgement of them, but there will be clarity with this person finally and my pile 4 you will see the truth about them. They are genuinely attached to my pile 4's and have just so much love and respect for you.🥺 You are destined to love and cherish them aswell, as it is very likely you will find this to be your soulmate.💗

💌Messages from them: To me, I feel so confused, It's all fake, Why would you want me? Our eyes have met (They are so scared of loosing you because they feel in their heart you guys are meant to be soulmates😫💞) Extra cards: Despair, Cuddle, Backwards, Previous, Love at first sight, 9th house, Libra, Water, 6th house, Neptune (They would be sad without you pile 4 they feel as if the work of fate brought you together😭😖💖)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the piano emoji~🎹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[aerchivez]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 iced hojicha w/ oat milk : nanami kento !

synopsis : after work coffee pick-me-ups are never optional. you and nanami never miss your mandatory weekday cafe dates and trinket shopping!

note : ahhh ! thank you guys so much for your love for the first one i posted !! so fun to write short stories like these ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა also i keep seeing the nitro bar on my tiktok and i feel like nanami LOVES a mean double shot latte or an iced americano if he’s feeling a bit groovier… ok im dun 👍

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

in your relationship with your boyfriend, “opposites attract” is definitely applicable.

nanami kento, a finance bro with a minimalistic approach in life. you, a maximalist in every way.

clink clink clink…

nanami looks at the direction where he heard the very distinctive sound that his girlfriend’s bag made. “kento! hi baby!”

yup, that’s his girlfriend alright. “hi, my love. did you decide on a new matcha combo today?” you and nanami never miss an after work coffee pick-me-up and an occasional browse on the cutesy apothecary who sells the cutest bits and bobs ever.

“hmm, i’m playing it safe today and get a dirty matcha. i take it you’re getting an iced americano?” nanami only ever orders a latte or an iced americano and in contrast to your “crazy” orders like a blueberry corn milk matcha, you can’t help but giggle a bit.

“actually, i’m getting an iced hojicha.” you gasp at his order, usually you’d have to FORCE him to get him to try a new kind of drink but he’s definitely feeling the good vibes and amazing weather today.

“purr, okay king sass… an iced hojicha then!” you order both your drinks and there’s never a day you try to pay buy nanami always beats you to it.

“thank you baby, but your coffee is always on me.” nanami never fails to make your heart soar everyday.

nanami kento loves so meticulously. he remembers every single thing you love and hate, all your little habits and quirks, and there’s nothing more satisfying to him when he sees the little dimples on your face forms when you smile at him.

though he doesn’t really get the point of trinkets and the cute little collectibles you’re obsessed with, he buys a couple of blind boxes or keychains that remind him of your ‘cuteness’.

you reciprocate the sentiment by sprucing up his apartment bit by bit. when you first met nanami, his bedroom had a bed and a side table.

that’s it, just those two. it actually drove you crazy and decorated WAYY before you guys started dating. it was dead (applicable to his whole apartment) and your presence definitely livened it up.

back to the present, the barista handed over your drinks and it was impossible not to take a picture of nanami to commemorate such day. the both of you sit on the outside area of the café with the prettiest graffiti.

“ken, i have to take your picture and frame this! and ooh, put it in a locket!” nanami poses for the photo and took his phone out to take a picture of you as well.

“how will the locket be completed without you? smile for me, my love.” you pose for photo as well and ran to his side to give him a peck on the cheek.

unbeknownst to you, he captured that cute little moment and since you were a bit later than usual, nanami had the time to grab a couple boxes of new Sonny Angel hippers from your favourite store.

your eyes light up when nanami revealed his little surprise from his briefcase. “i hope i get the crocodile.” usually, his face looks very calm, but he actually looks so excited for this little hipper.

“the hamster is beyond adorable!” you head back to your seat and both of you hurriedly open the blind box. you pout a bit since yours was clearly not the hamster and you can see nanami with a shocked (loosely using the term) face.

“baby, switch.” you were gonna give yours to nanami anyways so you immediately switched.

you gasp. “baby! you got the hamster! gosh she’s so cutesy!”

“and you got me the crocodile.” none of you wasted time and immediately stuck this at the back of your phones. although admittedly, nanami found it bulky but he found it cute first so it’s definitely staying.

“it’s lovely day today, kento.” you smile at him. he extended his arm to you and took the petal in your hair that flew.

“you always make it lovelier.”

[jello-chennie]

✧ bakugou and one of the ways he shows his love!

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

bakugou who spends a lot of time and energy trying to nail down your palate

in the beginning, when he had just newly asked you out, his favourite way to go on dates was to visit a bunch of different food establishments

morning breakfast dates at a cozy cafe or diner on the weekends, casual mid day lunches outside on the deck of some random conglomerate, dinner dates at local specialty restaurants

he loved to hear you prattle off his ear about whatever topic piqued your interest that day

he also loved the way you'd dress up for your dinner dates, low light softly illuminating the features he was so deeply infatuated with

at first, you were afraid to try types of food you'd never even heard of before

one of his favourite things to do was to gather a bit of his dish onto his spoon, and coax it into your mouth

it was definitely a lot easier to assuage your fear of the unknown when it was his hand giving up the offer to you

and most of all, he loved the silly way your face would squish into a grimace when you didnt enjoy something, or the way your face would melt into a mushy puddle of mirth when you ate something delicious

he keeps a running tab of things you like and dislike in the notes in his phone

later on in your relationship, once his research is complete, he starts cooking for you, and you become his permanent taste tester

it doesnt matter how long you two are together, this will always be one of bakugou's favourite thing about your relationship

whether the two of you are living together at the dorms and he's slaving over a pot of food that is specifically for you only, whilst his friends try to tease him about "the unfair treatment"; or fifteen years into your relationship, and there's the sound of several little feet stamping around the home that you own together

his favourite part of it all will always be getting to feed you little samples of the food he makes in an effort to put that gooey smile that he loves so much onto your face

and you really can't complain

[koiiiji]

Heey I loved the joker nsfw scenario you write so goood can I request sth very fluffy for example how each day with him goes, where he takes us on dates and so on?🩷 also you could maybe include some angsty scenarios where we want to watch him at a fight night but he doesn’t want us to see the cruel world he lives in bcs hes so protective and etc

suuure hun!!! sorry that it took me too long to answer, have no idea why ur request displayed in my app only after 6 days so i started to work on it late.

hope you will like it! enjoy🤓🤍

xo-xo💋

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

mere mention of apples brought a fond smile to your lips, thinking of Joker's peculiar fondness for everything apple-related. from his shampoo to his gum, his love for the crisp fruit permeated every aspect of his life. you even gift him home fragrance with apple taste. and especially joker liked sweets with apples, all kind of pies, muffins, ice creams and etc, everything with apples. and when you stumbled upon the viral tiktok video featuring the famed apple croissant, you knew it was the perfect choice for your date. you immediately sent a link of that café to Joker. no need to say that date idea was approved in a second.

as you rode the metro toward the new cafe, anticipation for your date with Joker bubbled within you. dressed in your best outfit and with your makeup flawlessly applied, you were ready to make this a day unforgettable, preferably without any distractions from his “colleagues.” or so you thought.

but just as you were lost in thoughts of sugary delights and stolen moments with Joker, a notification from him shattered your reverie. Your smile faltered as you read his message, the words weighing heavily on your heart. “sorry, im in the bar, Wooin said it emergency. don’t wait for me, maybe ask your friends and have fun. i’ll be late. sorry.”

with a sigh, you decided to continue the date alone, and buy that damn apple croissants, unwilling to let Wooin's interference ruin at least your evening. the idea of waiting for your girls seemed futile, knowing they likely had their own plans for evening.

when you entered the cafe, when you were paying for your croissant, you still couldn’t get rid of unpleasant idea. you knew Joker hated it when you stepped into his “work life” and saw him fighting in the actagon. but since Wooin decided to take him away from you so brazenly, you thought that there would be nothing wrong with you grabbing him after this stupid match, and taking a take out bag of croissants with you, you headed to that ill-fated bar.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

as you walked into the dimly lit bar, the contrast to -at least expected- date was stark. the once vibrant excitement for sharing apple croissant after that damn match had faded, replaced by a sense of disappointment and frustration. the air hung heavy with the stench of alcohol, mingling with the faint undertones of stale sweat and spilled drinks. each step you took seemed to echo against the grimy floor, the stickiness clinging to the soles of your shoes, a tangible reminder of the less-than-inviting atmosphere.

despite your reluctance, you made your way through the crowded space, weaving through intoxicated patrons who stumbled and swayed in a haphazard dance of inebriation. the cacophony of voices, laughter, and clinking glasses assaulted your senses, drowning out any semblance of peace or tranquility.

as you approached the bar, your eyes scanned the dimly lit room, searching for the familiar figure of Joker amidst the chaotic scene. and then, like a sudden chill down your spine, you felt the unwelcome presence of an arm slung over your shoulder.

"hi there, little thing," came Wooin's voice, dripping with an unsettling mixture of familiarity and condescension. words sent a shiver down your spine, his presence a stark reminder of the intrusion upon your plans and the disruption of your evening.

despite the façade of casualness in his tone, there was an underlying tension, silent dislike, Wooin never liked your presence, Joker was distracted, which means he did his job badly. you resisted the urge to shrug off his arm, instead steeling yourself with a forced smile, masking the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.

in that moment, surrounded by the oppressive atmosphere of the bar and the unwelcome company of Wooin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, both by Joker's absence and by the intrusion of his colleague into your plans. it was a bitter reminder of the complexities of relationships, the delicate balance between loyalty and disappointment. and then your heart sank. the crowd roared, drawing attention to the center of the bar. to the octagon. people seemed to be chanting someone's name, and it clearly wasn't Joker’s. Even though Joker protected you from this world and did not allow you to appear at his fights, you knew he never lost, so why was the crowd rooting for someone else today? these and other thoughts were constantly running through your head.

as you watched in disbelief, Wooin approached you with a sly grin, his words cutting through the chaos of the bar like a knife. "you see, darling," he began, his voice dripping with malice, "Joker's task tonight is not to win, but to fall." the revelation hit you like a sucker punch to the gut, leaving you reeling with shock and betrayal.

as the fight in the octagon reached its climax, you stood frozen in the midst of the raucous crowd, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and disbelief. you couldn't tear your eyes away from Joker, his form battered and bruised. Wooin's words echoed in your mind, Joker's gaze found yours across the sea of spectators. In that moment of connection, you saw the pain etched in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness.

as the final blow landed, and Joker stumbled to the ground, you felt a surge of anguish wash over you. it was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that his fall had been orchestrated not by his opponent's strength, but by the cold calculations of those who saw him as nothing more than a pawn in their game.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

in the quiet solitude of the changing rooms, you found Joker sitting alone, his hands trembling as he attempted to patch up his wounds. without a word, you approached him, your hands reaching out to gently grasp his own.

in that moment of shared vulnerability, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of clarity and resolve. and as Wooin's departing footsteps echoed in the distance, leaving you alone with Joker, you knew that this was your chance to confront the truth that lay between you.

with a trembling voice, you said “you know that you always can stop doing.. this..” after thinking a little, you added "and start with something new..." you looked around the small room, meaning all his work in general, "well, less violent". Joker just smiled at you and with a trembling hand reached for the bag that you had brought with you, his fingers brushing against the delicate pastry nestled within. with a bittersweet smile, he took a bite of the apple croissant, savoring the taste of sweetness and redemption that lingered on his lips.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

[trafalgarlogy]

☰ COMFORTING S/O WHO IS INSECURE WITH THEIR BODY AND GETTING BULLIED FOR IT

ft. Jack The Ripper, Buddha, Nikola Tesla

CUSTOMER . my dearest @aftongiulien

TW . Chubby!Reader, Fem!Reader, Disappointing & Bad Writing

💬 JACK THE RIPPER would be really shocked hearing the fact you're bullied for having a chubby body, but in this situation, he would stay calm and gentle, he would just pull you into a hug and whisper in your ear, how and why you're the most beautiful person he has ever met and known to his entire life; he doesn't want to see you sad because of some idiots who are too blind to see your beauty; cause it makes him sad too. To make you feel better he would make you some tea and (your favorite food). Jack would say a lot of lovie-dovie things that do make you smile. Just so you know your smile matters everything to him, If no one is there for you just remember he is. and after that he will take you outside and take you to a lot of beautiful and popular places around London, you went to the amusement park and a fancy restaurant, and best for the last; he would show you the beautiful view of city on top of the Big Ben.

💬 BUDDHA will be annoyed, like how dare they say such malicious thing about his sweetheart, he saw you to be like his little teddy bear, you were the most adorable in his eyes, but he would just offer you his entire bag of candies which were really precious to him; but after all its not more precious then you. He would just squish your cheek when your eating them cause he couldn't hold himself back as you looked too adorable, he felt himself melting inside. But it wasn't right for him to think about himself cause you're sad because of some bunch of assholes. He went into his deep thoughts of how to make you happy until a idea pops up, just so he could execute his plan he would tell you that he will be back in a moment, though that "in a moment" turned into 3 hours as you sat there waiting for him, you almost gave up and you had teary eyes when you hear some footsteps approaching, raising your head you see him coming towards you with a grin on his face and his arms around his back, raising an eye brow at that moment you were left surprised when he brought a flower bouquette of (your favorite flower). Which made you hug him with a bright smile on your face in happiness forgetting about the negative thoughts.

💬 NIKOLA TESLA, we all know is a busy man, doing his researches and having a packed schedule, but seeing you in tears he can't just ignore it and go on working on his project like he saw nothing, he knows it well his mind will play games with him by replaying the picture of you with teary face. So he would approach you with a bright smile and put his hands on your shoulder to ask you what happened?, after telling him all about you having a bad day because of some losers, he would roll his eyes and chuckle as his reaction and say "they're jealous of your beauty, ma cherie*", and proceeds to give a scientific explanation of why you're perfect and tell you to not to care about their saying, cause he loves you the way you are.

*ma cherie - my dear, in french

you would get so bored of his speech, that you eyes would get so heavy and that you were about to fall asleep, Tesla noticing this he would smack your head(in a friendly way btw) that all your snooziness was now gone, you would look at him in surprise and that reaction made him burst into laughter, and you also followed by.

[cookiepie111]

Bite me. Love me

König x black reader

Part 2

A/N-He's weird a walking red flag but the red flags are hazy almost like they're not there? Like a marage. His red flags are something you quite can't put a finger on at first until you realise it's everything it's the sum of all he's doing. A good boyfriend but a bit strange Idk he's sort of a you gotta get uncomfortable before you get comfortable

For me könig a bit of a strange man a man. He kinda understands social cues, but sometimes gets them a bit wrong. he slightly pushes your boutons and boundaries to see what he can get away with and how he can squeeze you

It's kinda like he has you in his teeth but he's not actually biting down, just grinding and rolling you in-between his teeth, he likes it and you're 'safe' that way, he wouldn't actually hurt you

Listen, sorry for all that yapping, but you needed to hear it. Anyway, a longer/second part to könig failed flirting attempt.Please like, reblog, and comment. Not proofread

Tag list: @thatmusedhatter @himboelover @canyonswft13 @montenegroisr @kneelingshadowsalome @havikshoochiemama @wordstome @lanalafey

You lost a bag that's cool, that's fine, although wouldn't call it lost, stolen more like given? Bag was practically thrown it into the robbers' hands. self-preservation above all else.

You couldn't focus on a single thing. Thoughts and worries tangle in your head as you recall the past events in your kitchen. You survive all that time back home, not getting robbed, only for your black ass to be robbed in a cafe in Austria!

'Come to Austria they said it'll be fun they said!'

ID, cards, money, everything in that bag gone. Thrown to the hands of a strange man. Why you. You'd have to go to the police, file a report, call the bank, and freeze your cards. "Aghhh!" All you could do was drop the floor and cry.

Surprisingly, this wasn't the worst pick-up fail könig had, so he can at least find comfort in that. can't get any lower than rock bottom...

The purse in his hands looked comical small, maybe its him, his hands that are making it look so small. you couldn't keep all your things in here? maybe it's a trend for women to carry purses the size of apples, putting fashion over function. Not something that könig would do.

Those who saw the whole ordeal go down, now eye him with suspicion, wondering what his next move will be, gripping their own items closer. He can only laugh to himself if he wanted he'd have no problem taking their stuff away. But it's better to leave so he can find you.

Walking out, he takes the time to look through your bag. cards, ID, cash, so manu important things, and you just handed them over to him. Playing with the ID card in his hands, mulling over your features. you had such a pretty name, such a serious face you were making in your photo too, not at all like the frightened look you had before.

It's more than enough to track you down he still didn't get the chance to ask you out. He couldn't bring it back empty-handed. Maybe a new purse would do.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The kitchen floor provides a surprising amount of comfort in these moments. 5 panic attacks down, and you're only down starting to cry. The knock on the door is either about to be a blessing or curse. Maybe the police finally came, or a good samartain got your purse back.

There wouldn't be any blessing today. The other side of the door only showed your assailant. If the panic attacks weren't enough to send you over the edge, spiralling, seeing this man at your door certainly was. taking your purse wasn't enough, like some sick grim reaper he's come for your life.

Playing dead is an option, right? You'd have to be stupid to think you could outrun this man. Yeah, laying down for a quick kill would be best-

" I brought you a gift, to apologise"

A gift?

You kept your eyes on bag half because you couldn't believe him and also you were too scared to look him in the eyes.

"It seems I scared you back at the cafe, I only wanted to ask you out" he holds out a bag in front of you.

Ha. It was a mistake. A simple misunderstanding. You'd spent the better half of today crying on the floor because of some big man's poor flirting skills. You wanted to cry again.

Might as well take the bag. What's one more mistake or bad choice today. All your items are there, and you suddenly feel relife, tears welling in eyes as your knees buckle. Your purse, cards, sweets, the second half of the book you're reading? Wait, some of this isn't yours.... was he using your bag to hold his stuff?? You stare back at him, waiting for an answer.

" they're yours a gift to apologize"

"Oh"

Maybe it's all in your head. You're just on edge in a new place. You feel like you can finally relax. The tension knotted in your shoulders slowly unravels. You feel silly and like a wet dog

" I'm sorry about that. Thank you for bringing it back,"

"A date"

What. You see him now only closer than before threatening to enter the boundaries of your home.

" Let me take you out for a drink to apologise." It's such an intense stare he has, focused souly on you. It makes you uncomfortable, stepping back slightly to put some space between you, a bad idea, as he matched your pace stepping forward, foot now fully in your house. You started in disbelief. There's no way this man just stepped in your house, muddy shoes and all. For the last time today, you look back at him, annoyed. An surprise for könig but not an unwelcome one.

"I don't drink"

"coffee"

"No"

"Tea"

"Hmm "

he squints and pauses at that answer

'"a cafe"

"Leave please"

"I'll pick you up on Thursday"

He's barley out the door before you shut it on him, locking the door and pulling the chain

she didn't say no right away. That means he still got a chance.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It's Thursday afternoon and once again you're sat in the kitchen panicking as your feet tap along with the rhythm of the clock.

The whole morning was spent worrying out your mind. It's a miracle your heart hasn't given out yet. Maybe he was just messing you, and now you've spent the whole morning worrying for nothing. more time passed, and your worry turned to annoyance. You did your whole makeup for this, and he didn't show.

You jump up at the sound of the door, rushing to open it. You pause. Taking a moment to collect yourself before before opening the door.

He looks better than before, still donning that scary balaclava, but in more casual clothes and flowers in hand. He's too forward with his actions, pushing the bouquet in your hands before he even spoke.

It's awkward. He doesn't say much(because that worked so well the first time), and neither do you. This silent walk is too painful to bear.

At least you can say he's a gentleman (sort of). The date was paid in full, and he got a gift. You've learned a few things about könig now. His jokes are cheesy, but they did make you laugh. He resides in an upscale apartment that's too big for him (his words)outside of the city centre. Currently on break from the army (a potential red flag that'll lingered in your thoughts), he's got a big appetite and love for strong drinks.

This afternoon hadn't been all that unpleasant. You quite like the man, you find some strange comfort and safety in him. It's even nice when he pulls you close to him, resting a hand on your hip.

"Haha, are you happy to see me, or is that a knife in your pocket?"

"Knife."

"Hah-" and He pulled out a blade.

...

Oh. Now we're back to weird again.

Why couldn't he just be normal!? It's too casual the tricks he's doing with the knife. How were you supposed to pretend this was normal

You try your best to smile, to not turn and flee scream but your lips tremble. You're really wishing he did have a boner instead. You're not sure what to say or what annoys you more how casual he is, not a single worry on his face.

This is exactly why you shouldn't go out with strange men who randomly appear at your doorstep. At the very least, he's a strong contender for the "Most Heart Attacks Caused by a Man" award.

König wasn't stupid he could sense your worry as you tried to hide behind a lopsided smile. Watching your eyes shift between him and blade, waiting for his next move. You're cute. He'll have fun messing with you.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You couldn't be happier to be home. You survived! You'd never have to see that nasty man again!

*beep*

It doesn't matter how long you stare at your phone in confusion and annoyance. The message on your phone is clear

......

Where did this man even get your number!? He's known for a 2 whole day's, there's no chance he knows anyone close to you.

You're never going to be free of this man

[tbaluver]

Hi! I love your work and this is my first time requesting.. so please ignore if not interested! ♡

the roles are reversed and you are their favorite character and the LADS boys are the player! That’s all I hope you have a good day/night!~ 💗

When They're The MC- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: slight suggestive content below otherwise fluff ! a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you so much for requesting this was such a cute request (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope this was alright and if it wasn't pretend it doesnt exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) otherwise i hope to see you again soon anonnie ! enjoy reading ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier is the type of player to listen to your secret times or tender moments and fall asleep listening to your voice. He likes to imagine you’re right beside him before he falls into his peaceful slumber.

However he does get hard listening to your suggestive audio or scenes that play out.

Spends most of his time grinding out materials for your memories so your character is strong when he reaches end game. Almost has your DeepSpace Trial finished and your affinity level maxed.

Ignores all the calls and text messages of the other main leads except yours.

When he runs out of content for you in the game, he would find solitude on watching edits or reading fanfics of you until the game finally updates its lore for you. Sometimes he'll replay the kindle moments of his favorite cards of you, which is literally all of them.

Zayne:

Nobody expected Zayne to be the type to play this game and at first, neither did he. But he downloaded the game out of curiosity and ended up playing until he reached the end game.

He has your affinity almost maxed out while the rest of the other leads are lower level. He would know all of your lore and has read all of your anecdotes without skipping them for the gems.

Uses the quality time to keep track of his studies but he can’t help but often glance at his screen and find you glancing back at him as well.

He has the Aurum Pass Premium and saves all of his diamonds for your upcoming banners. Does not even bother checking any of the other main leads in the game unless the banner included you

He ONLY plays this game in his room or whenever he's alone. Even though he has his headphones in, he can't help but look around to make sure nobody heard any of your suggestive sounds that sounded like a breathy moan. His ears would turn so red and he can't help but find his hand sliding down his pants

Rafayel:

The type of player that took hours customizing his character to make sure it looks exactly like him. He spends a lot of time with his character and yours in the photo booth. He tries to do a lot of glitches so it looks like you guys are kissing or hugging or him hitting it from the back.

The type that never lets you have a turn at the claw machine. If you managed to have a turn first, he’s IMMEDIATELY requesting to have the next turn. Yes, he thinks your pout is cute whenever you don’t get the plushie but he is NOT wasting any affinity points.

He would use all of his daily emojis just to talk to you and pokes you a lot in the cafe until you get annoyed.

The type to make the most beautiful fanart of you and make the most entertaining edits of you on social media. The type to freak out when he hears your solo banner is coming. He’s literally kicking his feet and rolling around in his bed in excitement

Sylus:

Sylus wasn’t interested in the game at first until your trailer kept popping up and out of curiosity and interest in your character, he decided to try it.

He became the BIGGEST spender when it comes to only your character. He would have all your cards maxed out from the levels and to the protocores. Each card he has of you would be ranked up to level 3 and most of your five stars are awakened. He has all your outfits and all of your poses.

However he would have the biggest frown on his face when he loses his pity the first couple of pulls. That’s not going to stop him until he has all your memories.

He is the type to tease your character by touching you a lot in the cafe to the point you're crossing your arms with a pout and your cheeks are flushed.

Spends a while in the photobooth to stare at your chest or you characters butt. Shamelessly tries to do a couple dirty glitches and the thought of you being real wouldn't leave his mind

Bonus: They all hate Lemonette.

[waywardducks]

I just can't stop thinking about the idea of y/n and Jason having a meet-cute in a bookstore! It's so cozy and sweet. I’ve had this idea in my head for days now.

CW: Fluff, a bit OOC, mentions of fighting and of Jason’s death, Gn reader

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Jason was fighting with Bruce, which meant Jason would not be going to the manor for the next few weeks. At least not until one of the men decided to give in and apologize. Which would be a while this time. Usually, when it is Jason’s fault his brothers will talk him into apologizing and help him recognize where he was wrong. But this time Bruce is wrong. Meaning no one, not even Alfred will be able to get this man to pull his head out of his ass. Maybe they could if Jason fought hard enough, and threw enough hard-hitting insults to breach the stony exterior that is Batman. But Jason doesn’t feel like breaking his own heart right now, so he’s opting for the long run, waiting (im)patiently as far from Batman as possible. Bruce will come back and apologize eventually when the silence and lack of his second son start feeling too close to when Jason was dead. When memories start to surface grief begins to overwhelm the man.

For now, though, Jason is content to sit in his apartment and read. The only real downside is that the book he had been reading was currently still in the manor’s library. Technically Jason could just ask one of his siblings to retrieve it for him, but he’s still hurt from his fight with his father and doesn’t feel like doing something vulnerable, like asking for help.

So he heads to the bookstore. He’s been to this particular bookstore a million times. It’s cozy, nestled on the edge of Blüdhaven, close to the border. Sometimes Jason would head to Dick’s apartment afterwards, since he was in his brother’s neighborhood. The shop has a little cafe area, indoor and outdoor seating, a covered patio with a couch that Jason enjoyed sitting on when it was raining.

A bell chimes his arrival as he entered the small shop.

“Welcome in!” An older woman greets from behind the counter.

Jason gives the woman a smile before making his way to the Shakespeare section. He began browsing the titles, trying to find the exact one he was looking for.

The bell chimes and again, but Jason paid it no real mind, only acknowledging that a third person was now in the store.

“Oh! Y/n. How lovely to see you again.” The woman at the front exclaims.

“Hey Mrs Goodmen! How’ve you been?” The newcomer asked.

“Just perfect, thank you for asking dear. What brings you in today?”

“I need a new copy of a book I love. I let my friend borrow it a year ago and I don't think I'm getting it back.”

“Well, you go find it, let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Of course, thank you!”

There was silence again as the person began browsing aisles. Jason smiled as he found the book he was looking for. He pulled it off the shelf and began flipping through the pages.

“Oh, how funny.” A voice startles Jason out of his skimming and he looks up. It was the person that had been talking the lady.

“What's funny?” Jason asked, closing his book.

“That's the book I was looking for.” They say, pointing at paperback in Jason’s hands.

Jason smiles. “Oh, that is funny.”

“Great minds think alike.” The person jokes. “I'm Y/n, by the way.”

“Jason. Nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

Jason watches as Y/n grabs a copy of the same book off the shelf.

“I've read this like 8 times now. I'm planning on actually annotating it this time. It's just so good. Oh! I should check to see if they have that new book I wanted to read.” Y/n mumbles.

Jason thinks it's cute how distracted they got all of a sudden. They themselves were cute. The oversized sweater they’re wearing, the concentrated look on their face as they search for the book they need, even the way their hair looks like they just rolled out of bed.

Jason pulls a small notebook out of his pocket and writes his name and number on it quickly. He doesn’t normally do this sort of thing, maybe it was because this person had similar taste in reading. Jason isn't sure, but he did know that this person is cute and he wants to get to know them.

“Are you a Shakespeare fan?” Y/n asks all of a sudden.

Jason chuckles. “I suppose you can say that. Though I suppose I'm more of a classical literature fan.”

Y/n smiles a bit wider at that. “Me too! I especially love Greek mythology and Gothic romance. Oh! They do have it! Perfect, I've been so excited for this one!” Y/n plucks a book off the shelf and does a triumphant little twirl.

Jason takes note of the book in her hand. “Biography of Mary Casset?”

Y/n shows Jason the books. “Yep! She was an impressionist painter whose main focus was on the relationships between mother and child. She also used traditional Chinese printing methods. She was a hardcore feminist and never stopped even after facing backlash for being a female artist in a male-dominated industry. I adore her.”

Jason can't help but stare at Y/n as they gushed over the artist. The way they ramble and are so passionate about it has his heart beating a lot faster all of a sudden.

“She sounds pretty fucking cool. I might need to grab me a copy of that as well.” He says. “Oh yeah, said you wanted to annotate this book,” he lifts the book that brought them both here in the first place. “We should get together sometime, compare notes maybe?”

Y/n blushes. “Yeah. That sounds like a lot of fun.” They smile brightly.

“Awesome! Here, take this.” Jason hands them the paper with his number on it. “Text me, we’ll make it a date?”

Y/n’s blush darkens. “Of course! I, uh, maybe a cafe or something? I’ll, umm, I'll have to check and see when I'm free.” They stammer as they carefully place the paper in their bag.

“Perfect. I'll be waiting to hear from you then.” Jason winks before turning and walking to the counter. He checks out and makes his way back to his apartment.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

What do y'all think? I tried to keep the book nondescript but then went I ranted too hard about Mary Casset. My bad. I hope that my little explanation at the end there makes up for how ooc Jay is. Let me know if you want more! Feel free go request and give a prompt as well! I love writing and I want to do more of it!

Also, I apologize for any mistakes. I have major Dyslexia and Grammarly doesn't always fix everything. I hope you Enjoyed! 🌼🐛

[rosielefay]

Hetalia Headcannon ʚ ɞ

I think all the nations are very beautiful. Their beauty isn't just in their physical appearance, but also their character, their feelings, their 'auras'. I don't think they're these cold, uncanny entities that are unrecognizable or unknowable to humans. Rather, I think they are very human, but a sort of beautiful, magnetic version man you only find in literature.

I think France in particular would be a modern day Aphrodite figure. Beautiful in appearance and soul alike. His big brother characterisation shows him to be a little vain but also very concerned with supporting fellow nations.

Your see it's not just his long blonde hair and his soft downturned eyes framed with fair lashes; nor is it his clear complexion, blushed with the pink of spring; it's not his perfect proportions, his small waist and broad shoulders and long legs. Because even when the economy is down and Paris falls into shades of grey he's still lovely. His skin is paler, hair a little longer, bones a little sharper, eyes deep set - wraith-like almost. But in the end it's just editorials to runways because France is so kind and so willing to love, he can't be anything other than beautiful.

I love France a lot. He's very old and so he knows a lot more about the world and other people than others, but he hides this wistfulness behind a veil of light-heartedness and flamboyance. He's a character with a lot of conviction whereas most people his age would turn to apathy. With conviction comes mistakes: he gets things wrong still, hurts those in attempts to love them - all because he cares enough to try.

Though I think he's old enough that he struggles to love like he used to; can't commit himself to one person, they die so quickly you see. He's a bit like an old maid, not concerned with passionate, fleeting love affairs, he instead choses to love the whole world. It's volunteer work and chatting with the elderly, part-time jobs at cafes and flower shops, its sitting alone on his Paris balcony in the evenings, drinking wine and thinking about past lovers.