#(I worry when blogs vanish)

[jolalibrary]

I miss when we were gardeners. when we tended to our fandom garden as a collective, instead of worrying that someone was making their part of the garden fancier than yours. I remember when people didn’t expect that it would be here tomorrow, when we lived in fear that we’d wake up and a site that housed our words would be gone, vanished. now, we don’t even care when our faves vanish and their blog becomes abandoned. we used to nurture fandom because it was an escape from the acting some of us had to do day to day, that we could be ourselves here. it feels—at times now—that people walk in, pluck a flower and leave. that if you’re not posting something new, your use is so little. but then, I remember when gif makers were respected and appreciated, and never had their work stolen and immediately put on twitter, and when moodboard makers and artists were adorned with so many reblogs and comments with ideas and headcanons that aided in new stories being generated. now no one shares any ideas out of fear some blog will write it first and you’ll be accused of stealing what you’ve spent months on. I remember when writers were seen as people who were just as talented as the people I’ve mentioned before, when people acknowledged how long it took to write a chapter or a one-shot. now, we’re easily replaceable, whether it’s AI or we’re simply not quick enough that people don’t want to invest. I remember waiting six months for an update on my fave fic, and I never felt slighted by it. because we liked being in fandom? we liked being supportive of everyone in it. we didn’t like everyone in it, because that’s impossible, but we didn’t make it our mission to burn them until they left, because we understood that even a gardener we didn’t like, was still someone cultivating a flower for someone we couldn’t make on our own. the saying it takes a village applies to fandom, and the question we need to be asking ourselves is: are we all doing our part or just taking and hoping it’ll be there to take from tomorrow?

[yuri-is-online]

ace has the biggest, fattest crush on yuu and it's amazing how he's winning against the rest of the cast. and yes even malleus is losing against ace and i said what i said!

he canonically commuted during winter season when yuu sent an SOS, offered to sleep next to them twice, was the first one to worry about them when everyone vanished in the spectral soiree and had a mini tantrum when they didnt realize how worried he was!! and lastly had the guts to tell malleus to his face, a top 5 magician in the twst universe, that what he did wasn't cool just cause he was worried sick abt yuu (and grim and deuce ig) !!!! Also he was so fucking worried when Yuu went to STYX and him and deuce couldn't contact him?!!

Also spoiler warning if u guys dont want spoilers on his vignette on the japanese event with stitch

Like!! When he thought that gantu's robots were there to attack them and the only one present was him, Yuu and Grim, he told them to run away and get help and he'll slow the robots down until they returned!! He was like "I won't let you pass me!", and he was so embarrassed when he found out it was just floyd and stitch 😭😭

End of spoiler

He's so down bad that it's endearing !! He's the bestest boy and its sad how ppl dont like him much!! (His fucking fault tho he's so mean to deuce, i want to punch him in the face then kiss him)

*want to make it clear that i am not trying to suggest this is cannon. it is my cannon though so it goes on my blog

Thank you for sending me more aceyuu propaganda I need it on my blog and people need to see this. He is winning against Malleus for me too (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b He is a supportive and caring friend and there is so much there in game to fuel the aceyuu agenda. Honestly his little spats with Deuce are kind of funny to me. Deuce hits back just as hard (he actually has some of the better burns imho) Grim actually roasts Ace pretty good too sometimes, he's really easy to make fun of.

I do understand why people might dislike him, tsun isn't everyone's bag. Hell it isn't usually mine, but I just love how loyal of a guy Ace is. Aceyuu supremacy fr fr

[vettelsvee]

YOU'RE NOT HANNA, AND NEVER WILL BE HER | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

red bull sebastian vettel x reader, nico rosberg x reader

word count: 6588

summary: 2010 german gp post race party has many things in store for seb and y/n, who finally do what they both been willing to do for a long time even they're dating hanna prater and nico rosberg

warnings: everything related to gender-based violence (main trigger warning to physical and mental abuse) from nico to y/n (reminder that everything you read on my blog is fiction), curse words, "cheating", mentions of suicide and cancer

a/n: i'm quite scared and happy at the same time to be posting this fic because it's one of my favourite parts ever on history series, but still has me so worried you might not like it because of all the topics (and because history series was originally posted on wattpad and not many people liked it but don't let anyone know that pls). anyways, let me know your thoughts on this one and request anything you might like if you want pls! i'll probably be posting tomorrow another part since my town is currently on high risk alert of floods and we've been told not to leave home. let me remind you that comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! thank you so much <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2010 Hockenheim   German Grand Prix  

You paused for a moment in front of the bathroom mirror as Valentina finished your makeup. You leaned forward to get a better look, but the your woman followed your movements with perfect synchronization and, surprisingly, without messing it all up.

Your own reflection was completely unrecognizable to you. In front of you stood a beautiful, self-assured Y/N, looking like someone who possibly had a life that, while not perfect, seemed enviable.

You feared that a simple layer of makeup could make you feel completely different from reality. It was as if all your problems had suddenly vanished, and instead had in front of you a superwoman admired by everyone, not a twenty-something whose life was falling apart.

Valentina Martínez, the girl standing beside you with whom you’d had the opportunity to become closer, was one of the Mercedes catering managers and, also, exactly the complete opposite of you. Valentina had a beauty that everyone could admire and a confidence that many, including yourself, would love to have. She could lift others' spirits with just a smile and a few words that, while not wise, were good enough to make sense.

The Argentine radiated the kind of magic you felt you lacked.

So, when Valentina’s gaze fell on yours as you continued to admire how beautiful you felt.

“Come on, Y/N!” Valentina shouted, stepping away from you and starting to bounce on her feet. “I know this isn’t your thing, but I swear you look incredibly hot.”

“Valentina…”

“None of that,” she interrupted, “you need a bit more confidence. I don’t know how you don’t have it with Nico already. He’s totally worth it!”

As Valentina’s smile grew wider, you sighed and lowered your head. You thanked her as calmly as you could for trying to transfer some of her positivity, though you knew it was somewhat of a show Valentina put on for everyone and wasn’t doing anything particularly special for you.

That was what you liked least about her: Valentina was so well-liked and appreciated by everyone that, somehow, she always played the same role, regardless of who she was with.

“I don’t know why I’m going to a party I definitely don’t want to go to,” you confessed with honesty.

Today’s race had been quite tough, and although the strategies were solid, they didn’t seem to deliver the expected results when Seb only managed to get bronze in his home race. That’s why all you wanted to do at that moment was order a good room-service dinner and eat it under the bed sheets while watching some low-budget TV show before trying to get some sleep.

"You know that stepping out of our comfort zone is the best thing," Valentina said, moving closer to you and gently taking your hands. "Besides, you're doing this for Nico," she insisted. "Remember: he's your boyfriend, and it's your duty to make him happy."

You smiled shyly even though, deep down, you shivered a bit at the tone Valentina seemed to be using with you. It was as if she wanted those last words, it's your duty to make him happy, to penetrate your mind and stay there. You tried to ignore it, as it was probably your own insecurities taking over. And, in some way, you knew Valentina wasn’t wrong. She was aware that you needed to stop being so perfectionistic and rigid, and maybe start letting yourself go a little bit more.

"You're right, yeah," you finally said. "Thanks for everything."

Without saying anything else, you left Valentina’s room to head back to your own, just a couple of doors away, not without first gathering the clothes you had been wearing earlier while your friend continued getting ready.

As you took out your room card from the small purse hanging from your shoulder and swiped it to enter, you started feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. However, the moment Nico Rosberg, your boyfriend, came out to greet you and looked you up and down, hands on his hips, all of it disappeared.

"Are you seriously going out dressed like that?" he asked, completely incredulous, pointing at your dress. "You look like a slut."

You were speechless, though part of you wanted to say everything she was feeling. Once again, fear caused you to shrink back, cautious about your actions and the possible consequences. The tone he had used on you was filled with anger and, above all, disappointment. You knew that nothing good would come from answering, so instead you held back everything you wanted to say to him.

“Nico, it's just a dress…” you tried to explain as calmly as possible, not really knowing how to make him see reason without losing your composure.

He stepped closer, and his eyes filled you with nothing but fear. You could swear that, in his fury, the bluish hue of his eyes had turned an orange-red, like fire; his pupils, fully dilated, were what sent you into internal panic.

“I don’t give a damn fuck if it’s just a dress,” he mocked you. “I don’t want you going out like that. You know there’ll be consequences.”

Be careful how you act with me, he had told you one day when you said you weren't in the mood to go out to have dinner. Since then, though you had realized many things he did to you, you’d also started to act with caution and rationality, knowing that blows could come at any moment.

You’d even considered that there was a remote possibility that you might be the one to end things, especially every time you recalled every single insult he used to hurl at you whenever you misbehaved, which had only increased in frequency in recent weeks, following your father’s death and your trip with Seb to your hometown for the funeral.

But, most especially, when the Red Bull Racing driver stayed a few days with you because he was absolutely worried about your mental health getting worse.

A lump formed in you throat as a few tears began to fall freely down your face, ruining the makeup your friend had taken so much time to apply and had turned out so well.

“If you don’t change your clothes right now and put on something that makes you look like a decent person…” He threatened, moving closer with his hand raised. “Think carefully, Y/N: I don’t want to go crazy, but I think you're forcing me to.”

You couldn’t let fear paralyze you at least, not now, as you felt his hand inching closer to your body. Another physical mark that would eventually fade, but another one that would leave a psychological one permanently.

"Please, Nico, don’t do this…” you begged, completely desperate by this point, but trying not to show it. “You said you loved me just the way I am and…”

“I just can’t believe you’re so stubborn! Don’t you get that I don’t want you going out dressed like some desperate girl who clearly wants to fuck with everyone?!” he yelled, filled with rage.

You backed up as much as you could until your back hit one of the surrounding walls. You had encountered this version of Nico before: no matter how hard you tried to reason with him, he would manipulate you until you ended up thinking it was entirely your own fault.

“Please, Nico, don’t shout. I don’t want anyone to hear us…”

“They’ll hear us if that’s what you deserve for wanting to embarrass me,” he shouted again, even more furious.

You knew the tension had reached its peak and that, from there, things would only worsen. 

Nico kept yelling at you. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands pressed over your ears, waited for the familiar sensation of one of his limbs landing on any part of your body he fancied at that moment.

“Oh, so now you have the nerve to ignore me?”

When you heard him clearly again and saw his hand raise, you somehow found the courage to turn away and quickly slip into the bathroom, forgetting to lock the door in your haste.

“Open up right now!” he screamed.

While he pounded on the door, his yelling relentless, you leaned against the farthest wall, as if he might burst in at any moment. 

It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. 

You gasped for air in a place where there seemed to be none, your hand instinctively clutching your chest as if to shield your heart, which felt like it might burst out at any moment. You had learned to live with anxiety and panic, and both emotions had reached a point where they didn’t control each other but had fused, learning to coexist together with you.

“Nico… I’ll change my clothes,” you said, still crying, your voice choking. “I’m sorry, really,” you lied, trying to sound as convincingly as you could. “But please… don’t hurt me.”

Not again.

Your whispers seemed to have reached him because his pounding and labored breathing quieted. You hoped that the situation had calmed, and it seemed like it had.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead giving you enough time to remove the ruined makeup from your face and apply just a little mascara. A few minutes passed, enough time for you to relax and consider the possible outcomes of what might happen next, before he coldly demanded that you open the door.

You emerged and collided with his chest. Forcing yourself to look up at him, all you could see was contempt.

“Once again, you’ve disappointed me,” he stated without a hint of hesitation. “No wonder why lots of shit happens to you and people treat you so poorly. I was wrong to judge Vettel: he was right to treat you that way, and he should’ve done even more to you.”

All you could do was lower your gaze and head toward your suitcase on the floor, trying to pick something that would be ok with Rosberg’s dress code while reminding yourself that Seb did things quite bad, but he seemed to be truly sorry and apologized many times to you. The beautiful red dress, strapless and embellished across the chest, falling just above your knees, had to be replaced by another dress of the same color, but one that reached your ankles, with a much higher neckline and looser fit, so as not to highlight your nearly nonexistent curves.

“Happy now?” you asked, with as much disdain as you dared, even knowing he might match your face to her outfit.

“If you behaved like a responsible adult, yes,” he muttered as he opened the door and took your hand forcefully. “Sometimes I forget you’re only twenty-two and you have a lot to learn about life.”

Did he really know more about life than you did after all you had to go through?

That thought lingered in your mind throughout the journey, from their floor’s hallway to where the party was held, including the elevator ride where they encountered Mark Webber and a journalist from Sky Sports Germany, Eloise Schimdt. During the conversation between the four of them, though you remained silent, you had to pretend that everything was fine, even as your insides felt like they were shattering further.

As they entered the venue, the music, louder than she liked, started to throb in your ears. Your eyes opened wide to adjust to the dim lights from the spotlights, and, as you always did when in a public place with Nico, you began scanning the scene in detail.

There were more people than the space could comfortably hold. The dance floor was packed with people moving energetically, glasses in hand with the sole mission of keeping the alcohol from spilling. The bar was just as crowded, and in the center, across from shelves stocked with every type of liquor imaginable, she spotted Kimi, Fernando and Jenson with their respective partners, chatting animatedly.

But your eyes didn’t seem to waste any time and ended up settling on the guy standing a bit farther away from the others.

Sebastian was leaning back against the bar, tapping his left hand on it to match the rhythm of the song playing. In his other hand he held a glass of what she assumed was, possibly, a Jägerbomb, his favorite drink and, to him, a must-have for parties like this. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans with those Geox trainers he always wore, and his hair was completely tousled.

In that moment, you felt utterly captivated by him, and you were sure you would have dared to talk to him if his eyes hadn’t been fixed on Hanna. The blonde girl was a few steps in front of him, dancing seductively without caring where she was or who might be watching her.

You couldn’t help but wish, at that moment, to be her.

You shook off those conflicting thoughts as soon as Nico grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, snapping you out of your trance, to head toward the bar.

"Give me a Martini," he said abruptly to the bartender, "and some water for her. She’s a bit dizzy," he lied to stop you from drinking, as he often did every time you went out.

"A Jägerbomb if you can, please," you ended up telling the guy behind the bar with your best smile.

You completely ignored the words and looks Nico was giving you. Instead, you just flashed your best smile at the bartender, who kept looking at you with concern, along with the rest of the people who weren’t too intoxicated yet and had overheard your boyfriend’s words.

"I can’t believe you’re drinking again… Can’t you control yourself or what?" he snapped.

He pulled you aggressively close, and you tried you best to ignore his words, spoken in a threatening tone directly into your ear, while you took your drink from the bar, along with his, and offered it to him.

Surrounded by people, you felt a bit safer than usual. He wouldn’t be able to hurt you, at least not physically, in front of everyone here… His reputation would be ruined, and Nico Rosberg was too proud to allow that.

So you didn’t stay silent.

"Nico, leave me alone for a few hours, please," you replied, ignoring his comments. "I’m here to enjoy the party you were so insistent on coming to, not to get scolded for wanting to have fun with you."

"Damn it, Y/N!" he expressed in frustration. "Do you always have to ruin everything or what?"

You just lifted your glass to avoid spilling your drink and walked towards the dance floor, leaving Rosberg behind, hurling insults you decided to ignore.

As soon as you found yourself among the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a friendly smile, you let yourself get carried away by the rhythm of the music. Tonight your shyness seemed nonexistent, and you could only thank the alcohol for giving you the confidence you had lost. You started to lose track of time as you danced, and though you didn’t know how, each move helped free you from the intrusive thoughts of loneliness and worthlessness, of feeling like nothing more than a mere object, which had crowded your mind at a dizzying speed.

You knew that mixing liquor with the energy drink that funded your lifestyle was only a temporary fix and that, once the effects wore off, your life would return to the completely chaotic state you had come to deserve.

Suddenly, the music stopped, as did the bodies moving on the dance floor. A spotlight focused on the stage, where Seb stood, microphone in hand and swaying. There was no doubt that he was drunk.

His swaying body made it clear that he had no idea what he was doing and that, at some point, he would end up regretting something.

"Sorry, sorry!" he said into the microphone. "But I feel like making a little pause in this party we’ve got going tonight because I want to sing a song to someone I care about a lot."

You began to feel terrible as Vettel gestured to the DJ for the music he wanted. A few seconds later, the first chords of Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars was the only sound echoing in the room.

"Babe, this song is for you, and I want you to know how much you mean to me!"

You could see Hanna smiling broadly and shrugging. You wanted to leave to cry again at the beautiful scene unfolding in front of you, of which you definitely weren’t the main character.

Was it too soon to say that the boy you were in love with dedicating a song to his girlfriend hurt worse than any blow your current boyfriend had ever given you?

Yes, it was clear. Possibly, the alcohol had already taken too strong a hold, and you could no longer control what you said or thought.

You know I'd never ask you to change  

If perfect's what you're searching for  

Then just stay the same  

So don't even bother asking if you look okay

You felt confused and didn’t know what to do, but Sebastian’s voice, trembling and making his English accent sound more German than usual, had you completely captivated.

So did Prater's reaction when the German shifted his gaze from her to you.

“This is for you,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. “I know you know who you are, and I want you to know it’s all for you, and that you deserve the absolute best.”

When I see your face  

There is not a thing that I would change  

'Cause you're amazing  

Just the way you are  

And when you smile  

The whole world stops and stares for a while  

'Cause, girl, you're amazing  

Just the way you are

You noticed Hanna moving to your side, visibly confused and clearly uncomfortable with what was happening.

“Y/N…”

She couldn’t say anything else, nor could you to her. As much as you wished to be Hanna, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for her at the strong possibility that her boyfriend was confessing his feelings to another girl right in front of her.

Or, at least, that’s what the alcohol led you to believe.

“I want you to know that, from the first moment I saw you, you’ve been in my heart,” Seb admitted, his words drawn out, uncaring about the reactions of those around them, especially his girlfriend’s or yours. “Right now, I can’t have what I want most, but I want you to know that being with you is the only wish I’ve made, and the one I’ll keep making on my birthday, until we can finally be together.”

That was the last straw. As quickly as she could, trying in vain to hold back tears and avoid drawing attention, Hanna left, thoroughly embarrassed, muttering something you couldn’t catch. Seb's voice still echoed in your ears, but you tried to ignore it because you couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Lost in thoughts, you moved as far away as you could, trying not to stumble. Then, you made your way to the bar to order another drink, as if that might somehow make you forget what had just happened.

Just before you could exchange words with the bartender who had already served you so many drinks that night, you felt someone take your wrist, though this time much more gently. You knew it wouldn’t be Nico; when you turned around and saw Seb, however, you were even more surprised.

Your eyes met, and butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. Once again, you felt at home and safe, though deep down, you were only afraid.

Without saying a word, he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

In that moment, you felt everything fade away. You let yourself go, unafraid of who might be watching or what might happen next. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss… your first kiss. 

Slowly, calmly, and, as you felt, full of affection, you stayed that way until you both needed air.

You felt that you had both been waiting for this moment for so long and, in a way, you deserved it, turning a simple gesture of affection into something unique and special, caring little about your partners or your sobriety.

Seb pulled back, his hands still resting on you, and your gazes shared in complicity about what had just happened. You knew he was happy but confused, just as you were. You didn’t know what to say, and knowing he didn’t either, you simply gave him a shy smile to let him know everything was okay, that he could do that a thousand times more from now on.

“Y/N…”

“What is it, Seb?”

You wanted him to tell you he loved you, that he’d left Hanna, and that he wanted you to be his new girlfriend, the love of his life.

But, instead, Seb looked at you and left you, once again, speechless:

“You’re not Hanna… and never will be her...”

After he said that, you felt nothing but your breath slipping away and the sensation of fainting.

You wanted to tell him everything you felt at that moment, but his words had hit you so hard that they only increased your confusion and pain.

All you could do was stare at him, likely making a fool of yourself with the amount of tears clouding your vision. Silence took over, and when you finally found the strength to speak, trying to hide the pain you knew your voice would show, he turned away without even saying goodbye.

"How the hell could you do that, Y/N?! You have no shame! You humiliated me in front of everyone. Kissing Sebastian like you don't care about your boyfriend... now I see what you're really up to."

You didn't have time to say anything or leave because Rosberg came running towards you, grabbing your arm with a force you'd never seen in him. It hurt, and your scream, which was more of a complaint from the pain than a surprise, was a way of expressing how much you were hurting, not just from the tight grip, but also from the shake he'd just given you.

"Nico, please, calm down..." you tried to calm him, not wanting to embarrass yourself. Some people were already looking at you, and you wished Earth would swallow you up. "It was just..."

"Don't play innocent!" he shouted too loudly. "You thought I wouldn't find out?! I saw you kissing that piece of shit who only wants to fuck you until he's bored of you," he said, referring to Seb. "Now everyone here knows what you really are: a whore! And I'm glad, Y/N… You have no idea how glad I am."

The music suddenly stopped blasting, but your boyfriend's anger didn’t.

"Nico... I love you, really," you tried to speak. "It was just a moment of weakness..."

The moment of weakness was exactly what you were feeling now, making him believe you were truly in love with him when, in fact, you were only staying in the relationship because you were afraid your reputation wouldn’t make it out alive. 

"You say you love me? Don't make me laugh! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t act like this."

You wanted to tell him that you thought the same about him, but you held back, paralyzed again by the fear that your mind was processing all the bad things that could happen.

"Nico, come on. You don’t have to act like this. We can talk about this civilly."

As you saw Edward, Vettel’s personal trainer, appear, and pull Nico a bit away from you, a little peace returned to your body. You gave him a grateful look, to which he just answered by nodding.

"You don’t have to get involved, Eddie!" your boyfriend shouted. "Stay out of our fucking business!"

"You know you don’t have to treat her like this," he said seriously.

"She’s a whore, can't you see it?" Nico spat, pointing at you. "Disgusting little girl..."

"Nico, I understand you're angry," Patterson spoke again, after the German’s words, "but neither of you is in a state to talk about this, and this is not the right place," he said, referring to the curious looks around them.

You could only constantly whisper for them not to fight anymore, while deep down you prayed to take you away from all of this and bring you back to the hotel.

"I don’t care what you say," Eddie started. "I'm taking Y/N. I don’t think being here is the best thing for her."

After saying that, he stood behind you and guided you, putting his hand on your back, toward his car. At that moment, your desperation was so great that you didn’t even think about whether he was in any condition to drive.

The way back to the hotel, less than ten minutes away, felt eternal.You hadn’t drunk much because you didn’t like it, but not being used to it was enough for a couple of curves and a badly taken roundabout to make you gag and feel like vomiting.

Slowly, the shock began to set in, and you started to act on autopilot mode, following the directions of the man accompanying you, except when he told you it would be best for you to sleep in his room that night.

You didn’t know why, but that set off alarms in your confused brain. The last thing you wanted was to add fuel to the fire by sleeping with another man who wasn’t your boyfriend just to protect you.

"Thanks for everything, Eddie, really, but I think it would be best if I went back to my room to sort things out with Nico."

The Brit didn’t seem to agree with you.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but I don’t think it’s best for you to share space with him tonight," he was honest.

"I just want to talk to him and try to put an end to this," you insisted, still knowing you weren't right.

"And I understand you, really, but right now everything is too fresh, and the best thing is for you to rest and let the drunkenness wear off," he said, placing one of your arms over his shoulders. "Come on, I’ll take you to my room."

You decided not to argue anymore because it would be in vain, so you let yourself be guided while he lectured you about how you shouldn’t be intimidated by Nico and how you deserved someone better than him after what had happened at the club that night.

"Edward, Y/N. Good night, guys."

You lifted your gaze and saw another Brit. Jenson was standing in front of you, coming out of the elevator you were about to take. You were greatly surprised that he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but didn’t want to get involved; your alcohol-soaked self, however, wanted to gossip.

"Where are you two going?" he asked, crossing his arms and blocking the elevator doors so they couldn’t pass.

"I’m... taking Y/N to my room," Eddie revealed, stammering a bit for no clear reason. "She’s had a rough time, and it’s best that she doesn’t see Nico’s face tonight."

"And you think the best thing is that you take her to your room?"

Button’s features went from relaxed to a kind of aggression you had never seen in him. It’s not like you had spent much time or had many conversations together, but you knew the situation you were now involved in wasn’t what you had thought it was.

Edward Patterson stayed completely silent.

"Do you want me to call someone to be with you?" Jenson asked you directly, giving you no other option. "Y/N," he insisted again, "who do you want me to call to stay with you tonight?"

"Britta… please," you said as best as you could despite your discomfort.

To your surprise, while Jenson dialed the phone number of the woman you now considered your friend, Eddie let go of you and reluctantly pushed the driver, still leaning against the elevator frame, to leave. He didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to you, something that seemed to upset Button quite a bit.

"Hello, is this Britta?" Jenson began, speaking into the phone. "Great, yes. It’s Jenson. I’m with Y/N, and she asked if you could help her," he started explaining. "I don’t know much about what happened, except that she’s not feeling well and needs help from someone she really trusts," he clarified.

After exchanging a few more words, Jenson led you back to the lobby, where Britta appeared just a few minutes later in a bathrobe, espadrilles, and her hair tied up in a completely unusual way. You had never seen Roeske like that, and all you could do was laugh.

"Come on, let’s go already," Britta said, linking her arm with yours as if you were two old ladies heading to bingo. "This is how I want to see you: laughing, not crying."

When Britta opened the door to her room, you immediately ran and threw yourself onto the bed. Your whole body hurt, and you weren’t sure if it was from the emotions of the night or because the alcohol was hitting its peak.

Whatever it was, you knew perfectly well that lying completely still, face up, and counting the total number of tiles on the ceiling, pointing at them one by one with one eye closed and your tongue sticking out was what was making your hostess laugh.

"Come on, Y/N, get up," Britta asked gently. "Do you mind if I help you get changed? It’s time to put on your pajamas."

You nodded as you sat up and moved to the foot of the bed.

Next, Britta unzipped the dress, and you noticed how she averted her gaze to give you some privacy while offering a nightgown.

"Right now, I’d love for Seb to be the one undressing me to fuck me. God... how I’d love Seb to make me scream now..."

Had you said that out loud?

"What did you just say?"

Britta’s muffled shout and the tone in which she asked, while turning her back without caring whether you had already put the garment on, making you realize that yes, you had said that out loud.

Your first time being drunk was going to be, definitely, a night to remember. Now, you just felt like saying those kinds of things, and you didn’t care at all about having a boyfriend… if he could even be called that.

"Oh…" you said, stretching the last syllable. "Didn’t you know it?"

"Know what?"

By the tone of voice, it seemed Britta thought it was related to the sudden thing you had said.

"Seb and I kissed," you told her, starting to laugh like a lovesick teen.

"This is the alcohol on you, I’m sure of it," Britta said, running to get a wet towel and starting to wipe it across your face. "You mean you and Nico kissed," she tried to correct you. "Seb is dating Hanna, and you’re dating Nico, remember?"

You started shaking your head constantly, about to collapse to the floor. A laugh started escaping you as you couldn’t control it.

"No, no, no, no," you denied while also wagging your finger. "Seb and I kissed. Nico’s an asshole."

"Y/N, you really should go to sleep, you’re not..."

"Of course I’m fine!" you said enthusiastically, getting up from the bed and standing in front of Britta.

The truth was that you only felt fine because of the effect alcohol was having on you. If it wasn’t for that, you would be crawling on the floor crying because you knew you had reached a point where you couldn’t pretend your life was perfect anymore.

"Do you really not believe me when I say that not only did Seb kiss me, but it was the best kiss of my life?"

You knew you were putting Britta in a tough spot, especially considering that the woman was probably closer friends with Hanna than with you.

"And Hanna?" Britta demanded to know. "Was she there, or had she left?"

"Oh, she was there?" you tried to pretend the best you could, using expressions that clearly showed otherwise. "I didn’t know..."

Before you could continue speaking, Britta ran to grab her phone and started making calls. You sat back down, crossing your legs and swaying while watching the blonde desperately cursing in German, since none of the contacts she called were answering.

It was possible that Seb and Hanna were busy, probably having sex. Your drunk self only wished she was in Hanna’s place.

"The only ones who tell the truth are kids and drunks, you know?"

Britta stared at you after those words. It seemed like you needed to say that phrase to make her believe you.

"Are you serious...?" Britta asked.

"What, Britta?" you insisted, urging her to speak.

"Did you really kiss Sebastian?"

You nodded.

"Yes," you confirmed. "Well, I mean, he was the one who took my face and kissed me," you corrected yourself. "Do I owe anyone something, like he owes Hanna?"

You were getting a bit defensive, and you knew it was making Britta nervous.

"Yes! You owe Nico, your boyfriend," Britta replied, giving you a harsh dose of reality.

"I don’t want Nico," you confessed. "At least, not in the way I think I should. He... I don’t know, Britta. I think he’s what I deserve. I try to understand why, but I know that his insults and those things he says to me make me a better person somehow."

You could see Britta go pale. Also, you were starting to feel worse; after all, it was the first time you had opened up about your feelings to someone since the journal Seb gifted you for your birthday last didn’t count as a personal therapist.

Britta usually had words for everything, but that day, you seemed to have left her speechless.

"Y/N..." Britta began, carefully choosing her words. "You’re a good person. You’re just scared."

"Maybe," you replied, trying not to make it a big deal. "And you, are you scared?"

"Of course. Everyone’s afraid of something."

"I’m afraid of being alone," you admitted, lowering your head because you were starting to cry again for the umpteenth time that day. "And I’m afraid of losing Nico. I know no one will ever love me, not better or worse, than he does."

Britta didn’t know what to say, and you felt bad for having to be in her room, drunk, sad, while your “friend” was putting up with you, possibly mediating between her client and her client’s partner.

That’s why you made a move to leave. Fortunately, Britta wouldn’t let you.

"Sit down, Y/N, and let it all out," Britta demanded.

And that’s exactly what you did. You told Britta everything, not just about what had happened since you started dating your current boyfriend, but about your entire life. Living with a mentally sick mother after her accident, her subsequent suicide, their move to Barcelona. Her father’s cancer and how it had worsened in less than two years. All the things Rosberg had said and done to you, even forcing you to do certain stuff you were clearly uncomfortable with.

You cried like you never had before when you told Britta about your first time, reluctantly, on a luxury yacht in Monaco’s seas, and how it gave you nightmares almost every night to the point where she was scared to fall asleep.

You could tell that Britta was truly worried when you started biting your lower lip, and a little tic appeared in your right eye.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?"

"Do you know I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her?"

You were fully aware that you had just avoided answering a crucial question, but you didn’t care at all. You were tired of talking about your burdens and your current life; from now on, you would focus entirely on your future and try to solve and finish once and for all all the problems that made your life a mess.

"But what are you saying, Y/N?" Britta asked, desperate.

"That’s exactly what I would have liked to ask Seb, but he left and Nico messed things up," you revealed, stretching your arms out and pointing to the marks, now red, that were the same shape and size as Mercedes’ driver’s fingers. "Great, yeah," you said ironically.

"But..."

"Do you think if I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her, I might have a chance to date Seb?"

Your question left Britta speechless again, unable to find the words. As Britta struggled to speak, you started playing with your fingers. Giving up, you laid on the bed, your back to Britta, clutching a pillow with the clear intention of falling asleep.

"Why are you telling me this?" Britta asked in a whisper, almost with... pity.

"Because I want Seb," you revealed, letting out a sob because, at last, you had been able to confront and reveal your confusing feelings for a guy who didn’t love you, and never would. "I’m in love with Seb, and it hurts knowing he’ll never love me back, and I know I’ll have to move on sooner or later."

Britta was about to speak, but you took the words from her before she could.

"Before you say anything else, take advantage of me and ask me anything you want: I’m a bit drunk because I’m not used to drinking."

You could tell Britta sighed, likely having lost all patience with you.

"You know... you know that Seb...?"

But then Britta stopped talking. You stood there for a while, staring at the red curtains that covered the window, waiting for the woman to continue. When she didn’t, you turned around:

"You know exactly what about Seb, Britta?" you asked, adjusting yourself on the bed, still hugging the pillow.

"Seb and you need to talk," Britta told you, leaving you speechless. "And when you do that, I’m convinced that you’re going to live the life you both deserve."

"But..."

Britta started to lie you down on the bed again, tucking you in under the linen sheets. Your yawns became more frequent, and after she kissed your forehead just like her mother used to do before your life was destroyed, your eyelids grew heavy.

"I know you won’t remember this tomorrow," Britta’s voice flooded your ears as you curled up into yourself. "But, to Seb, it’s more than obvious that you’re not Hanna and you’ll never be… And that’s exactly why that stupid, but incredible guy, has fallen truly, madly, deeply, in love with you."

You couldn’t tell if Britta’s words were already a dream, or if Morpheus was pulling you into his arms. 

"The day you stop doubting your worth, the world will be at your feet, Y/N. Sebastian has been telling me that and his closest people since you two spent the night together the day before his maiden win in Monza."

[aspergerasparagus]

I just found this blog and I love your writing so much!! I was wondering if you take suggestions? If so, possibly a little thing about Lucky’s consciousness getting transferred to an animatronic from that one ask, I found it a really interesting idea!! No worries if not you can just ignore the suggestion!

Thank you and angst hours angst hours angst hours!

Pain. Searing red hot pain piercing through his chest. The agony almost indescribable, each breath more tortuous than the last as the blood filled his lungs and his throat, choking him. The rabbit merely offering him fake comfort and empty words as they cradled his broken body, the ecstasy in their voice impossible to hide as they lived out their fantasy. Then darkness. Those were the last things Lucky remembered. It should have been the last things, it should have been his death. But he wasn't deserving of such a luxury. He had so much more to offer.

Gasping, Lucky’s eyes shot open. He was alive. How the fuck was he alive? His mind raced as his eyes darted around, desperately trying to see if Frankie was still around, trying to figure out where he was. Was he in heaven? Hell? Finally his eyes focused as he realised he was laying on some sort of metal bench, harsh fluorescent lights hung over him. The only sound in the room their dull hum and the sound of his own frantic breathing. A painful flash of his last moment’s shot through his head, making him whimper as he clutched his temple. What was happening? What the hell was going on?! Opening his eyes again he felt his blood run cold as he saw his hand.

A bright red cartoony glove met his eyes. Oh fuck no. No. no no no NO NONONONONO! This couldn’t be real! This just had to be a nightmare, a horrible nightmare that he’d awaken from. Hands shaking he dared to look down at his body, expecting hoping to see his broken human body. Please God, please don’t let this be real. 

A choked sob was all he could manage as he was met with a grey, cold, metal suit. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, claw at this fake body, tear it shreds and reveal his soft human body underneath. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t shed a tear. He couldn’t scream. This body didn’t accommodate such comforts. Fear, disgust, anger, resentment soon overwhelmed him as Lucky tried desperately to get to his feet. He had to get away. He had to-

Lucky cried out as he crashed to the ground in a pile of slinky limbs, his body refusing to obey him due to its strange new anatomy. Staring down at the jumbled mess that was once his legs, he couldn’t figure out how to make them work. They just twitched erratically, unable to process their master's orders. Gagging, he ripped his eyes away, unable to stomach the sight any longer. Pushing down the urge to just curl up and resign himself, Lucky forced his arms to move. Awkwardly he dragged himself across the floor, his arms twitching and spasming with each exertion. He was nearing the door to the room when he made the terrible decision to glance to his side.

What little composure he was maintaining vanished in an instant as he locked eyes with an oversized rabbit that stared right back at him. Their eyes unblinking even with the heavy lids upon them. Their cartoonish grin a cruel mockery to the man in front of them. Trembling Lucky raised a hand, the rabbit in the mirror mirroring him. Touching his face, the rabbit did the same and that was it. Lucky snapped.

A gut wrenching scream forced its way from his throat, the voice foreign and distorted, crackling like it was being projected over a speaker. It was all too much. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a dream. He continued to scream, unable to stop himself now. Swinging his arms widely in anguish, lashing out at anything and everything he felt an arm connect with the table he’d awoken on, sending it flying into the wall. The sound of metal crunching was unable to reach him as he continued to let his pain out. In a fit of desperation he tore at his face, begging for the mask to come off like it once had. Please take it off! I don’t want it on anymore! But he couldn’t find the seam anymore. There had to be one! He felt his fingers dig into the metal as he tried with everything to rip the damn thing off, only to have his hand suddenly yanked away.

“Shhh, no more of that my little rabbit. We can’t have you damaging yourself so soon.” Lucky felt his stomach drop as he slowly turned to look up at the source of the voice. 

“F-F-Frankie…” The other rabbit just purred, hearing his little contestant say his name. He must have missed hearing that. A sudden wave of fresh horror caused Lucky to lurch away. No, not him. Anyone but him. Crying out he hopelessly tried to crawl away, his metal arms uselessly gasping at the floor, his legs dragging behind him, dead weights now. He heard the other rabbit chuckle before they snatched at his ears, yanking him back with a force he hadn’t seen before. Lucky could only screech in pain as he trashed about like a rabbit in a snare, but it was useless, he was caught and there was no escape. Not ever again.

“Shh Lucky. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Frankie’s voice was so soft and gentle as he released his hold and scooped up the man rabbit into his arms, burying his face against theirs. “I’ve missed you so much, but I did promise to not let you rot with all the others. I have much greater things in mind for you, my lucky contestant.” The dangerous growl at the end only made Lucky choke on another sob. Why couldn’t he have just let him die? Let him finally be free of this place. Be free of him. 

He tried to let out a fresh set of screams but Frankie just hushed him.

“No more of that okay. You’ve already damaged your voice module from all that noise before, so no more yelling. It’ll be okay Lucky, I’ll help you get through all this. Get you used to this new body of yours and tell you what you’ll be doing from now on.” Lucky could only look at him numbly, Frankie’s hand coming to cup their cheek, wiping the oil that had been leaking from their eyes before he leaned in, pushing their mouth together in a sick mockery of a kiss. 

“But for now, that can wait. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up but for now, why don’t you have a little rest my cute new little rabbit.” With that Lucky felt his vision go black as he fell into a void of unconsciousness. The last thought replaying over and over in his mind:

Please. Please just let me die.

[yuujispinkhair]

Sukuna gave up on love years ago. But somehow, your eyes and your smile are all he can think about. -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event. A sweet anon requested the song "Lovebug" by the Jonas Brothers.

Pairing: Modern!CEO Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff Word Count: 700 Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Sukuna and Reader meet as business partners, and feelings spark between them. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact.

God, it's ridiculous!

Sukuna slams his vodka glass down on his desk, laughing and shaking his head. He isn't a sentimental person. He isn't one of those fools who let their emotions get the better of them. He knows love is more trouble than anything else, and he isn't chasing it anymore. He decided years ago to stop doing that. No, Sukuna hasn't been looking for love for a long time.

And yet, all it took was one business phone call followed by an afternoon and a dinner spent with you, and now he can't stop this weird feeling from spreading through his chest. He sees your smile even when he closes his eyes. He still smells your perfume even though it can't linger on his skin after such a short moment of holding your hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

It is highly ridiculous. And irresponsible. And foolish.

He swore off love. Swore off everything that could tear down his walls. And he is good at this, brilliant even. No one can see beneath Itadori Sukuna's mask of arrogance and indifference!

And yet your eyes looked at him with that knowing look. As if you could see right through him. As if you knew.

You treated him differently than the others. Your eyes didn't stray to his expensive watch or his car keys. You didn't order the most expensive meal off the menu when he said he would pay. You didn't act mysterious or slutty or any of those other things the others did, who were always so calculating, so desperately trying to fit into the image of the perfect doll, not realizing that it only made them seem fake.

There is nothing fake about you. You didn't hold back your laughter during dinner. You didn't worry about smearing your lipstick while eating. Your makeup was light, and the eyeliner applied a bit crookedly. It made his heart do a flip somehow. You didn't shy away from sharing a huge dessert with him, smiling and rolling your eyes in pleasure at how delicious it tasted. He had chuckled in genuine amusement and joy when you pushed a spoonful of ice cream towards him, telling him he simply had to try it.

So light. That's it. He feels so light when he is around you. It's as if all the small and big stresses of his busy CEO life just vanished into thin air, and instead, the sun is shining on him, and he can breathe in clear, fresh air.

He catches himself smiling as he thinks of how you snorted with laughter about one of his dry comments. Usually, none of those women laugh about his humor. And it's not just that you think he is funny. You replied with the same humor, making him laugh too.

He sighs and turns off his computer. It's late at night. Time to go home and get some rest. But not before he grabs his phone and types a quick message to you, thanking you for the lovely evening and wishing you a good night. He only hesitates for a small moment before he adds, "I would like to see you again. I know a place with even better dessert variations for two."

He is surprised by the smile he spots on his face in the mirrored walls of the elevator when he receives your reply, telling him that you would love to share a dessert with him again.

A catchy love song starts playing on his drive home. The type of song that Sukuna usually finds annoying and which would lead to him changing the radio station. But not tonight. Tonight, he lets it play, and maybe he hums a bit in tune with the melody. Maybe he feels a little fluttery sensation when hearing the lyrics about freshly found love.

Maybe all he can think of are your eyes and your smile and how good it felt to sit there with you and talk and laugh and not even realize how many hours had already slipped by, so caught up in his conversation with you. So caught up in your eyes.

He isn't someone who catches feelings easily. He thought for a long time that he had managed to become immune to all of this.

But does a man who is immune to falling in love hum along to a stupid catchy lovesong? Does a man who gave up on love smile to himself while he pictures your laugh?

Maybe the lovebug bit him after all. And maybe he is glad it did

Thank you so much for participating in my event! I hope you enjoyed this little story!! I am swooning so much thinking about spending a flirty business dinner with CEO Sukuna aww!!

Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!

[phantom-dc]

A deal with the Ghost King

Part1 Part3 AO3

Bruce was concerned. Last night, the world had been on the brink of destruction. A flaming, Kryptonite meteorite had been on a collision course with Eart. No one was able to handle it, and the League had grown desperate. Many, Bruce included, had brought their friends and families in an attempt to save them. It was then they had agreed to let Constantine summon the mighty Ghost King.

But they had failed. The Ghost King had rejected their offer of souls, and demanded a better offering. The League had scrambled to come up with something valuable enough to please it. But before they could try again, the King had vanished, and the meteorite had been destroyed. After the initial shock and relief had worn off, Constantine had demanded awnsers. Someone had made a deal, but no one knew who. While Batman checked the camera's, Flash asked around if anyone had seen anything. No one had, and the Ghost King's presence interfered with the camera's. A deal had been made with the God of the dead, and no one knew what had been offered. Constantine made it clear that if anyone of the League noticed anything amiss to call him immediatly, and it was well known how much Constantine hates being on call. So Bruce decided to patrol a bit earlier then usual, right after dark. He had been on his balcony, as the sun had just set, casting the city in darkness.

Then the sky was filled with familiar green/blue lights.

----

Red Hood was following the Aurora Borealis on his bike. Jason had been worried when he realised he and Phantom had forgot to exchange phone numbers, but it seems he has no trouble making his presence known. Jason was sure the whole city could see it! Noticing the light rippled from Gotham cemetery outward (because of course a ghost-themed hero would pick that spot) Jason got there so fast he doubted the Flash couldve done better.

When he parked his bike, Phantom had noticed him and waved. When he floated closer however, he seemed confused. 'Wait, you're the Red Hood?' Jason realised he hadn't been wearing his iconic helmet in the Watchtower, and got a bit nervous. Had Phantom been unaware of the blood on his hands? Suprisingly, Phantom got excited: 'That's amazing! You're my favorite hero!' Jason was suprised: 'Really?' 'Yes! So many ghosts found peace because you avenged them. You're like a celebrity in the Realms!' Not used to the praise, Jason switched topics: 'So where do you wanna go? Honestly, it's kinda late and I don't think much is open now.' Phantom apologises. He wasn't certain his aura would have been visible in the sun. But he came prepared! Holding up a picnick basket, he suggest they visit the park chat so they can get to know eachother a bit better. Jason liked the plan. 'Let's go then, ghost boy.'

----

Looks like I'll have to split the date up in different parts! Enjoy the wild goose chase!

Edit: I am no longer tagging as I teached the limit and the story is on AO3, sorry.

@alice-hazelwood @spookytragedyshark @vythika96 @willak @sjrose1216 @shorterthanadverage @bruh-incoming @desertbogwitch @bun-fish @anon-ymous22 @overtherose @dracotheghostdragon @treepainting @the-church-grimm @emotional-otter @zelabee @smilingfox22-blog @vampiredp94 @leftmiraclechaos @impulsiveasshole @babbling-babull @wordsgohere95 @theamazingfox @regressor-marina @raspberry-muffin @scribbiesan-main @satanicrutialspecialist @meira-3919 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @terzatheunderscorerima @some-rotten-nest @wrenofthedumbasses @is-this-even-relatable @olivethetreebitch @my-mom-calls-me-rat @darlingatlas @blazeart @gunebugfic @chaos-n-kindness @elvesandlanterns @asphyxia778 @fantasticbluebirdfan @mj-arts-n-stuff @nappinginhell @slapphapp1 @undead-essence @seraphinedemort @enderglace @wildbacon-blog @mark-the-snark

[teatreeoilll]

|| Movie Night (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

Gojo Satoru swears that watching movies is the best training method, and that's all it is, just training, really. Fluff with slight innuendos.

W/C - 1.3 K

"You think we're what?" Nanami's eyebrow cocked up as soon as you spoke. He shot a helpless look at Haibara who was standing over him, leaning his weight on the hand he placed on the desk, entranced by the praise hidden in your request.

The few months since you've started attending Jujutsu High have passed in the blink of an eye. The curves of the hallways became more familiar as you found your way through the maze with ease, a day-to-day routine carefully forming when you began to befriend your classmates, the solemn-looking Nanami Kento and his enthusiastic friend Haibara Yu, awed by their rapidly increasing strength.

The two of them, together with your upper-classmen whom you've only briefly encountered, always looked like they had noble reasons for being in the Jujutsu world - and although it always felt too rude to ask what they were, your reasons for attending the school had paled in comparison to the things you've imagined.

"I think you're strong," you smile awkwardly, "and I was wondering if you have any advice - to - you know, help me get stronger too."

"I don't think I'm the right person to ask," Nanami shied away from the request, tugging on his uniform to distract himself.

"Don't worry!" Haibara cut into the conversation, the smile plastered on his face melting the awkwardness you felt, "You should talk to our upper-classmen, I heard one of them is the strongest sorcerer they've seen in hundreds of years. I'm sure he'll have something useful to say!"

Hibara's expression changes as soon as you walk out of the classroom with a newly found determination to find the strongest.

"Wait," he furrowed his brows at Nanami, placing his thumb on his chin, "D'you think she thinks I think she's weak?"

"I think you should stop thinking so much."

-

"Weak? Yeah, I can see that." Gojo's careless words earn him an elbow to his ribs from his friend Geto, who smiled sheepishly at you while mumbling; quit teasing the juniors, Satoru.

"He doesn't mean it like that," Geto assures you, but the confidence you felt first approaching them on their break between classes vanished just as fast as it came. You manage to let out a bashful chuckle, suddenly aware of the afternoon sun burning mercilessly at your back.

"But I do," the white-haired sorcerer grumbles back at his friend, pulling off his shades to wipe them on the side of his uniform, "She's weak - but at least she wants to do something about it."

You find yourself so remarkably fixated on the light blue color of his eyes peaking through his pale eyelashes that the next words catch you off guard.

"I'd ask Yaga if I were you," Geto ignores his friend's remarks.

"I wanted to," you admit, "I just - I don't want him to think I'm unsatisfied with his teaching methods."

"It's a shame," Gojo puts his sunglasses back on, adjusting them lightly on the bridge of his nose, "If you're unsatisfied you should just say so - don't you think, Suguru?"

Geto sighs.

"But I'll help," a smile creeps slowly on Gojo's face, "What kind of senior would I be if I turn down a desperate plea for help from my junior?"

You open your mouth to defend yourself - trying to retain a neutral expression after being so brazenly called desperate, but fearing Gojo would take back his newly offered assistance, you only utter a quick thank you before agreeing to meet when classes are over.

Geto watches you walk into the building, and just as the hem of your fluttering skirt disappears into the doorway, he turns to his friend.

"That's very kind of you."

"Don't look so surprised, Suguru." Gojo scoffs dramatically, "I would never turn down a junior in need."

Geto rolled his eyes, to which Gojo finished his sentence, "Especially when they have such pretty eyes."

"And a short skirt," Geto laughs.

"A very short skirt." Gojo agrees.

-

"You didn't have to change," Gojo inspects you through his sunglasses. He isn't disappointed about the way the gym clothes hug your body - but the skirt you wore before already held a special place in his heart.

"Why? Aren't we going to train?" You inquire.

"It's a different kind of training," he states nonchalantly, to which you only stare at him, awaiting the specifics, "We're going to watch a movie."

"A .. movie?"

"So you don't want to train with the strongest.." he pauses, turning around as if to walk away.

"N-no!" You exclaim a little too loud, feeling like a wild animal whose leg got captured in a bear trap, "Let's train."

-

You sit down on the edge of Gojo's bed, gluing the palms of your hands to your knees as you watch him insert a CD into the laptop he put on a chair in front of you. He fiddles with the laptop for a while before turning the movie on, letting the opening credits play while he speaks.

"Now, all you have to do is keep a steady flow of cursed energy while you watch."

"What happens if I don't?" You inquire.

"I'll be here to keep you in check," he crosses his arms, directing his attention to the screen, triggering you to do the same.

The open credits pass to reveal the title, The Green Mile. Oh god, that movie's heartbreaking.

Gojo began to feel as though his mission was failing. He hoped you wouldn't be able to stay in control for long - imagining himself putting a hand on your thigh while guiding you confidently, saying things like Don't worry, I'll show you how it's done. Maybe you'll even call him Senpai. But the steady flow of energy in the room hadn't wavered in the past two and a half hours.

The pressure in the room drops as soon as the film attains its climax. A soft smirk grazes Gojo's lips when he starts to speak, turning to face you, "Don't worry, I'll -"

You feel a tear rolling down your face, distracting your focus. As you wipe your face with your sleeve and regain composure, you notice him staring at you with a glimmer of regret, stretching out a long arm to engulf your shoulders.

"T'was good, for your first training session, that is." He talks through the gut-wrenching music of the ending credits.

"Yeah, a training session.." you roll your eyes, still painfully aware of the arm he hadn't moved off your shoulders, why do they always think they're so smooth?

-

12 years later

You look through the doorway into the TV room, watching Gojo picking out DVDs for Yuji, his new student, to watch.

"You're not really going to make him watch films, are you?" You sit next to him, moving the pile of DVD cases scattered across the floor.

"It's training," Gojo focuses on reading the film titles on the paper sleeves, "You should know that."

"Oh please! You were just trying to get in my pants."

"Me?" Gojo chuckles, "You were the one trying to get in my pants - you're so strong Gojo, please train me Gojo!" He imitates you poorly, but you've gotten used to it throughout the years, "You were so desperate I thought you might cry if I refused."

"Oh then, please remind me who was trying to kiss me after finishing The Notebook."

"I did that for you! You were looking so depraved going on and on about how handsome the guy is, I felt sorry for you."

"Sure you did," you mused.

"He's not your type anyway," Gojo shrugs.

"Oh, what's my type then?" You flash a cocky smile at him as he pushes through the pile of DVDs to get closer to you.

"I don't know, I'd say tall, blue eyes," he pushes his blindfold down to rest on his neck, "handsome," he presses closer to you, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, "strong," he bites down on your bottom lip softly.

"Gojo-Sensei," a voice cuts through the room, "What are we doing for training today - oh," you push yourself away from Gojo, feeling your face grow red as you watch a blushing pink-haired boy rush away from the TV room, "I'll go train with Fushiguro today!" Yuji exclaims from the hallway.

[arvandus]

Sick Day

Barbatos x GN!Reader

Warnings: None. Just fluff... pure self-indulgent fluff.

NOTE: Minors and ageless blogs DNI or follow or you will be blocked! While this writing is SFW, my blog is NOT.

Your DDD pinged and you peeked your head out of your warm covers to check the message with bleary, aching eyes.

Barbatos: I did not see you at RAD today.  Are you alright?

Warmth heated your cheeks and it wasn’t due to the fever.  Your fingers typed back your response.  I’m sick.

Barbatos: Oh dear, that is unfortunate.

You smiled and typed.   I’m surprised none of the brothers told you.

 You waited as you watched the ellipses appear.

Barbatos: I was only there briefly to gather paperwork.

There was a pause.  More ellipses appeared then vanished, and a moment later, reappeared again.

Barbatos: I shall bring you some tea and honey cakes.

You silently giggled to yourself and buried your face in your pillow before responding.  You don’t have to... besides, I don’t want to get you sick.

Barbatos: How easily you forget that we are different species. I highly doubt I’ll be susceptible to your cold, although I appreciate the concern.  But it does beg the question of how you got sick while being surrounded by demons...

You bit your lip for a moment and then typed.  Solomon and I went to the human world for brunch a few days ago...

Barbatos: ...I see.  Then he is the one to blame for this. I shall have a word with him after my visit.

You chuckled to yourself.  Go easy on him, Barb. It was both our idea.

Barbatos sent the winking demon emoji but nothing else.  You set our phone back down on your nightstand and once again buried beneath your covers as another fever chill washed over you, making your bones ache.

---

You must have fallen asleep because next thing you knew, you were being roused by a gentle hand on your shoulder.  The sudden presence of someone in your room made you jolt awake, only to be met by a pair of familiar green eyes framed in dark green hair.

“B-Barbatos...”

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you...” he replied softly. He still held the tray of tea and cakes in his left hand, perfectly balanced, and he set it carefully down next to your bed.  You noticed two empty teacups and a lidded teapot with steam curling out of its spout.  “I had knocked, but you didn’t answer.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you laid back down, the blanket tucked securely around your neck.  “Were you worried about me?”

His lips curled up slightly.  “Perhaps a little,” he confessed.

Then Barbatos looked at you, taking in your appearance with a slightly furrowed brow. “Hm...” he removed his white glove and placed the back of his hand to your forehead.

Your heart pounded at the sudden skin-to-skin contact, and you wondered if he noticed.  How good was a demon’s hearing anyway?

“You seem worse than I had anticipated...” he said.

He began preparing your tea for you, pulling out a small satchel of herbs from the inner pocket his RAD uniform.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“A personal remedy I put together,” he replied.  “It contains herbs from the human world that are meant to help with fever and aches.  Tulsi leaves, ginger, honeysuckle... just to name a few.”

You watched as he set the herbs into the strainer and placed it back into the teapot. You both waited as the concoction brewed.

“How did you find time to put this together?” you asked curiously.

“I prepared it before your first arrival to the Devildom. When I knew we would have human exchange students, I made it my duty to ensure we were well stocked with any possible needs in case of situations such as this.”

You smirked. “Always so prepared...”

“A fact that I am grateful for now.” His smile softened under the gentle weight of worry.  “Us demons do not like seeing you like this... it reminds us how fragile and mortal you are.”

Your chest felt tight and you placed your hand over Barbatos’s, your fingers squeezing his softly.  His cheeks flushed the slightest bit, his eyes widening at your blatant affection, and yet his own fingers reciprocated, curling around yours.

“I’m not dying, Barbatos... It’s just a cold,” you smiled.

He gave a soft chuckle. “I’m aware, but the discomfort remains just the same.  We sense time differently than you do... it feels slower, at least here in the Devildom, where change happens over thousands of years instead of decades.  We don’t always realize how quick and unforgiving it is, especially for humans.  We think there is enough time and yet there never is.”

He stared down at your hand, his thumb running across the knuckles of your fingers.  “Your species burns bright, but you also burn out much faster. It makes it difficult for us to love and even more difficult to let go when the time eventually comes.”

His confession left your heart heavy and your mind dizzy.  Tears stung your eyes.  “Barbatos...”

But before you could continue, he changed the topic.

“I believe your tea is ready...” he said with an artificial lightness.

He relinquished your hand and began preparing your cup. You watched quietly as he added honey and lemon.  When it was finished, he held it out to you.

You pushed yourself up and adjusted your position until you were sitting next to him on your bed, shoulder to shoulder.

“Thank you...”

You took the cup and sipped it. You hummed pleasantly at the warmth that followed down your throat.

“Is it to your liking?” he asked as he poured his own cup.

“Yes, thank you.”

He smiled, pleased with himself.  A mutual quiet fell over both of you as you both sipped at your teas and nibbled at your cakes.

When the cups were finally empty, the fatigue returned.  You leaned your head against Barbatos’s shoulder.

He looked down at you.  “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

“Mhm... just sleepy... “ you mumbled.  Then in jest you said, “did you slip anything else into that tea you made?”

Barbatos chuckled low in his chest.  His arm came around your shoulders in a partial embrace and he gently grazed his fingers on the curve of your shoulder. 

“I would never,” he replied.

More of your weight pressed against him as your body relaxed beneath his touch.  Slowly your head slid down into his lap, your hands pillowing beneath your cheek and against his thigh. He stiffened at first, but then breathed out a small gust of amused surrender as his hand began to pet you from the crown of your head to your arm in calming, soothing motions.

You closed your eyes.  “My muscles ache and my head is foggy,” you complained.

“You should rest,” he chided.

“I am resting...”

Barbatos chuckled. “I meant in your bed, beneath your blankets.”

“But you’re warm...”

“Your bed is also warm...”

“My bed doesn’t pet my hair.”

Barbatos laughed gently, deep and rich, and you couldn’t help but smile with your eyes still closed.

“Very well.  Let us make a truce.  You will lay beneath your covers and I will continue to pet your head.”

“Deal.”

Slowly you sat up and repositioned yourself until you were bundled snuggly.  Barbatos sucked in a quiet, calming breath to ease his nerves before he scooted next to you. He kept himself on top of the blankets, a crucial barrier between himself and you.  But you still did your best to snuggle into his side, your head tucked beneath his chin.  His hand continued its gentle treks across the parts of you that felt safest. Your body relaxed beneath his touch, and Barbatos closed his eyes as he inhaled the scent of your hair before releasing the air in a relaxing exhale.

While he didn’t like you being sick, he found this particular arrangement to be... quite nice... even if his heart was pounding wildly in his chest like he’d just run a marathon, every nerve of his body alive everywhere your body touched his.

“Barbatos...”

“Yes?”

“Your heart is beating really fast...” he could hear the teasing in your voice, wrapped up in beautiful delight.

You knew.

His own words echoed in his mind.  ‘We think there is enough time and there never is.’

‘Well...’ he thought, ‘no sense in denying it...’

“It’s because I want to kiss you,” he confessed quietly.

Your entire body tensed with bridled joy, and you couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across your lips as your cheek rested against his chest.  “I want you to kiss me too.”

Barbatos looked down at you, seeing nothing but the top of your head.

“Then look at me,” he said.

But even as he said it, it was his own fingers beneath your chin that tilted your face up to him.

Then he captured your lips gently with his, his hand cupping your cheek. Your skin still felt flushed, your breath hot with fever and laced with the scent of honey and tea.  But you hummed happily as he kissed you, and it was enough to reassure him, to make his chest warm with delight.

When your lips parted, he placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Now rest,” he chided, “so that you can heal and I can no longer worry over you.”

You nuzzled down into your bedding in acquiescence, pressed against him.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Always,” he replied.

A minute of silence passed, and Barbatos was nearly certain than you’d fallen asleep when you suddenly spoke again.

“Barbatos...”

“...yes?”

“Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

His arm squeezed you gently and he placed an indulgent kiss to the crown of your head.

“Yes.”

[xcalkenf]

Gojo’s fave positions to do it is probably missionary>doggy style. He wants needs to see your messed up face especially when you’re wearing makeup as it turns him on even more. sometimes he would blindfold you during the spicy times —but don’t worry he’ll make sure the tighness of the blindfold isn’t that hard.

“ng— i can’t..”

“yes you can baby, we did this multiple times -ite? or do you want me to stop?”

“n-no uhhuh..~ don’ wana stowp”

he chuckles, “good girl” he then leaves kisses around your neck and left some hickeys that you’re pretty much sure it’ll stay there for days. As he fastens his pace, he holds your waist by one hand and the other caressing your cheek while kissing you— loud moans were then vanished into small ones. You felt your third orgasm coming which then followed by the tightening of your walls hugging gojo’s cock, a gasp left both of your mouths and he slows down his pace earning a groan from you “urghh- pplease f-faster!! don’ slow d-down!” “impatient are you baby?” . . . . without any further to do, you pushed yourself towards his length earning another chuckle from him “tsk, my baby wants to cum so bad huh?” “p-please..” “please what? use your words”

“please let me cum please please please!! wanna cum so bad ‘toru!!”

“hmm, how about a no?”

—

a/n: thank you SO MUCH for 100 followers!! honestly i wasn’t expecting my blogs to blow up and gain tons of likes and folls! i’m glad you guys enjoyed it, again ty!!

© mototoxoxo , 2022 | do not steal/repost on any other social medias, nor plagiarize. interactions are very much appreciated!

[vivalas-vega]

top gun: maverick masterlist

my blog is strictly 18 and up - minors do not interact

I do not have a taglist, if you'd like to be notified of future works turn on post notifications for @vegaslibrary

please remember that each fic you read represents countless hours the author has spent creating something for you to enjoy. tell them how much you enjoyed reading it. pop into their ask box on anon, write a novel in the reblogs, comment a string of incoherent letters or emojis. I promise it makes our day and is the fuel that keeps us going.

each fic will feature a symbol representing what they include, or eventually will include, but individual parts on this list will not -- you are responsible for your own media consumption so please read the warnings on each post.

key: ✩ author’s favorite ♢ angst ♡ fluff ⚤ m/f smut ⚢ f/f smut

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

multi-part series:

✩ new perspectives ♢ ♡ ⚤ (ongoing) 

You and Jake Seresin have been inseparable since age ten... somewhere along the way you fell in love and when college and flight school rolls around you have to make the hardest decision of your life.

prologue / one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

new perspectives universe one shots + drabbles

match ♡

Jake surprises you at your match day ceremony.

j&j wedding moodboard

easier ♢ ♡ (ongoing)

You secure your first confirmed air-to-air kill on your first mission as team leader... only no one told you how difficult it would be to process and the only person who can understand what you're going through steps in to help.

one / two 

move on ♢ (ongoing)

The love of your life vanishes in the middle of the night leaving you reeling and leaning on the only person you can still trust.

one / two / three

✩ real friends ♢ ♡ (on hiatus)

One day your competitive working relationship with Jake Seresin takes a hit and results in a pact between the two of you that you never saw coming.

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

shot through the heart ♡ / and you’re to blame ♡ ⚤ / you give love a bad name (mini-series)

Pushed together planning your best friends wedding your forced to notice someone you'd previously overlooked.

one-shots/requests:

✩ flygirl ♡ ⚤ (one-shot)

The Dagger Squad, and more specifically Jake Seresin, decide it's time their favorite bartender experience life in a Super Hornet.

✩ late ♢ ♡

A delayed period forces you to have a conversation you've been putting off with your boyfriend.

mistletoe ♡

Jake comes home to find you amidst a winter wonderland and can't help but fall more in love with you and your spirit.

✩ sunshine ♢ ♡

You and Jake are recalled to Top Gun... only problem? Jake has no idea you're in the Navy.

before he cheats ♡ (request)

While drinking away your breakup at the bar, Jake finds out about your extracurricular activities and steps in.

worry ♢ ♡ (request)

Stressed and overworked, your husband steps in to remind you to take care of yourself before taking care of others.

birdstrike ♢ ♡ (request)

Jake grapples with the thought of losing you after an accident in the air leaves him rattled.

family dinner ♢ ♡ (request)

You and Jake attend dinner with your parents, a diligent homemaker and retired Navy hotshot, and when your parents have their own ideas about your trajectory in life, Jake steps in to stand up for you.

into you ♢ ♡ (request)

Forced to watch the man you want and your best friend getting closer, you push them both away without bothering to clarify the situation.

NATASHA 'PHOENIX' TRACE

boyfriend ⚢ (one-shot)

Phoenix steps in to give you the attention you deserve when your boyfriend spends the night neglecting you.

at your pace ♢ ♡ (request)

Your relationship with Natasha has remained a secret as long as you've been in North Island, until her backseater puts the pieces together and gives her the nudge she needs to come out to her team.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

firecracker ♢ ♡ (on hiatus)

When you and your childhood best friend are recalled for the same high stakes mission you have to navigate ever-changing relationships along with keeping your familial name a secret.

one / two

✩ longshot ♢ ♡ ⚤

A series of unfortunate events lead you back to your hometown and straight to the professor that's been on your mind ever since you graduated.

one

unexpected ♡ ⚤

An educational trip to the waterfront for Fleet Weeks ends in a handsome naval aviator asking you on a date.

one

DAGGER SQUAD

make the friendship bracelets ♡ (one-shot)

On a whim you decide to surprise the squad with a token of your appreciation.

[jasmines-library]

I think I visit your blog an unhealthy number of times bc it's just my go-to for some good old fashioned hurt/comfort and it's just. You are such an incredible writer 😭❤️!! could I request a batfam fic where the reader undergoes a depressive (or numb) episode/the vibe that comes with a character just falling down wordlessly on the couch and the other character saying "bad day?" and the character nodding and giving them a blanket // if this is too specific absolutely no worries, either :D! any and all characters are alright, thank you so much!! please take your time with the requests and I hope you have an awesome rest of ur day :]!!

Aww anon! That’s so cute! I hope you enjoy and I hope you’re doing okay! :)

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

WHUMPTOBER DAY TWENTY :Prompt: necrosis/wound cleaning.

Warnings: numbness and a depressive episode described.

Word count: 1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

You had fallen into that pattern again. That dreadful, hateful pattern. It comes and goes in waves; Numbness followed by dark sadness that weighed heavily in the middle of your chest. Suffocating. 

You couldn’t help it. You never could. The feeling would just wash over you all of a sudden. Hit you like a ton of bricks. And usually you felt like there was nothing you could do about it except let it play out its course. So, you spent much of your time alone. It didn’t help much. Being alone made you feel worse in many ways. You yearned for normality; Dick’s laughter and Damian’s small unamused grunts as he pretended to be interested in what was going on. You would have given anything to not feel this way again. But right now it was all too much. Even just moving felt like too much of an effort. So you remained numb up in your room, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

You were sure you had traced the patterns in the ceiling at least a hundred times in the last day or so. It was that or overthinking. You couldn’t stop the influx of thoughts. They would come all at once all angry and disappointed. And you would ponder on them for far too long before they vanished just as quickly as they arrived, leaving you once again alone.

Your family had noticed your withdrawal. They had seen you in this state before and it broke their hearts to see  you in it again, but they weren’t sure what to do. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for their emotional intelligence. They thought the next best thing to do was to give you some space, but to extend a hand if you asked for it. You never asked for it. You didn’t know how. And you didn’t want to be a burden to the rest of your family. So you remained silent.

One night, you had decided to venture out of your room. It was a quiet evening. Late autumn so the sun was already beginning to set despite the early hours of the afternoon. It had taken you a long while to decide that you wanted to move, but nevertheless you stood and moved towards your favourite spot; a place that you often found solace in. The armchair was large and plush and positioned by the window so that it caught the last slivers of golden light as they streamed through the window. You curled up on the plush leather, watching the trees shed their leaves and the sky turn a deep blue. It was a few hours later, when the stars had appeared in the sky, when the door cracked open.  The figure was silent, save for their bare feet padding against the wooden flooring. 

It was Jason who approached.  He had a blanket slung over his shoulder and two steaming mugs of hot cocoa in his hands. He paused, studding you for a moment as you stared numbly out the window. He had seen you here before. It brought him a sense of deja vu that he’d rather not feel again. Taking a step forward, he let out a gentle sigh. 

“Hey kiddo….” he started. You glanced up at him. Jason smiled sadly. It was a start. “Brought you your favourite. Thought you might be thirsty.”

He extended a mug towards you. It was topped with cream and marshmallows which were slightly melted. It was just how you liked it. Goddamnit. You took the mug from him and took a sip. The sweet liquid melted on your tongue. 

“Thank you…” You said quietly before the two of you fell into silence. Jason watched you as you went back to staring out of the window, trying to gather the words to say. It was clear that he was worried; they all were. He just didn’t know how to make you feel better. If he could even make you feel better at all. He hated seeing you like this; so lost in the darkness of your own mind. He hated it not only because you were hurting, but also because he knew that feeling all too well. He knew how much it hurt. How difficult it was to feel anything but numb and self hatred. 

“Bad week again?” he asked gently.

You just nodded. Jason always seemed to understand without pressing you. 

“Here…” he handed you the blanket, draping it over your shoulders.You hugged it tight around you, immediately overcome with the sense of familiar comfort. 

Jason didn’t say much more after that and you even less. But he took a seat on the armchair across from you before curling up with his book. It was a simple but effective gesture to show that he was there for you without overwhelming you. You glanced at him, taking a sip of your drink. And for the first time in what felt like forever you began to feel again.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

<- DAY NINETEEN⛧ DAY TWENTY ONE->

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[thewulf]

Miss ma'am!! Idk how I'm just finding your blog but omggg you have the motherload of amazing FF's. THANK YOUUUU. It's hard to find sweet fluff and actual good angst. So thank you. please keep it up for forever.

Can i request a Paul Lahote x Swan Twin Sister Reader? I've had this in my head for forever but you can ignore it if you don't wanna do twilight. But i think you'd crush it!

Okay so reader is Bella's (fraternal) twin sissy. She moved to Forks with Bella and the whole first book happens WITHOUT her knowing what's going on. She's just as in the dark as Charlie is. However, after edward abandons her she gets to the bottom of it and is her sisters rock while she comes out of the depression hole she's in.

Okay so reader convinces Bella to go talk to Jacob after he too seemingly abandons the both of them (reader is good friends with Jake prior to the transformation instead of the Cullen's). Reader is too upset to confront him so she sits in the car. However, when reader notices Bella walking towards the Sam and his crew that's when she springs into action running behind her. She tries to stop Bella from slapping Paul but she does in her rage. However, instead of transforming reader calls out to Bella and locks eyes with him. Of course, reader is his imprint and it can be really sweet n fluffy after that. Like he falls the the ground, anger vanished and things just make sense to him. Obvi bella and reader are hella confused. Jake is super thankful bc he's obviously missed you.

Sorry this is so long but I think you'll crush it!!

First of all, thank you so much!!

Second of all, YASSSS you got it. My first twilight request!! I swear Twilight is what got me INTO reading. Sucked me in and I've never looked back. This series is what fanfics are made for hahah. You got it anon!!

(I also love really detailed requests, so no worries!)

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hi, I read a few of your posts and I really liked your writing. May I ask a hcs/drabble/one shot of ONE PIECE with Shanks (and Mihawk if it’s possible) who are in a relationship with a woman who have her own crew and the woman flee away in their sleep, leaving them behind, with her crew after years of relationship? A bit angsty 🙊 and they never found her again, seeing her in newspapers or rumors only.

Thank you if you made it and sorry if It doesn’t suit your blog! Have a nice day <3

At first, he though he read the title wrong. But no matter how many times his eyes glided across the black ink, the newspaper headline said the exact same thing: BLACK TOOTH GRINS: A NEW SCOURGE?

There was a picture attached underneath the title. Part of him thought that maybe the familiarity in the woman’s face was just his longing; a product of a mind too lovesick to hold on to sanity. Alas, this time, too, his senses were not deceiving him.

It is your face. You're alive and well as it seems. Looking exactly the same as the day you had left.

The heartache comes back to him tenfold. Not it has ever left but the pain and anger are now suffocating. So many months have passed when he hasn't heard from you as though you've suddenly ceased to exist. No one has heard about you, no one has seen. How can a whole person just vanish? At some point, he told himself that maybe you've met your end. It was entirely possible.

But nothing has prepared him for this. To realize that he was abandoned by the one he loved.

The anguish slowly fades into numbness like a radio falls silent after piercing ears with static. Everything stands still as he recalls the day some part of him had died:

"Greatest swordsman in the world" is a quite hefty title to carry. It is also quite a hefty title to be overshadowed by. Wherever the two of you showed up, you'd always be perceived as a decoration to Mihawk rather than his partner. Like a pearly white Maltese carried by rich ladies in their purses. Having voiced your concerns, Mihawk knew that you feel in some way inferior to him. He just never thought it was that severe.

He was woken up that night, actually. The sky was still black and starry, morning long hours away. You were getting out of bed and your stirring woke him up. But he quickly went back to sleep when you whispered that you were just going to the bathroom. By all means, it was just another night. Like countless others you've spent together. Nothing unusual.

In the morning, everything was gone. All of your belongings had disappeared as though you had never been on his ship in the first place. Like a ghost he's grown to love had simply become bored of haunting him.

Only one thing, however, suggested that you were not a figment of imagination: a laconic note that vaguely explained the situation. In a few words, you told him that you're tired of being seen as an accessory to someone, a pair of gloves that will be out of season when snow thaws. Knowing that you're more than the Maltese in a purse, you ventured into the wide world to become an infamous name of your own.

Throughout many years, every day has he thought of that night and the morning that followed. What if he hadn't fallen asleep? Was he too calloused to notice how much you've been suffering? Was there something he could have done but decided not to for some reason?

The longer he thought about it, the more he came to the same, heart-wrenching conclusion - he was just abandoned in the middle of the night. Whether it was his hurt pride or respect towards your wishes, he's never gone on an escapade to find you.

As years went by and he hadn't heard from you or about you, Mihawk simply assumed that you'd died. It seemed the most probable. Part of him wanted to take the blame: if he had noticed your pain earlier, had he taken your worries seriously, you wouldn't have left and you wouldn't have died. It was his responsibility to protect you, to ensure that his beloved is safe and sound. Alas, he had failed. Quite utterly at that.

He grew bitter and vicious. What good is his swordsmanship if it failed that one time it could have mattered? What good is he if he was too blind and oblivious to ease your burden?

But all of those painful thoughts disappeared today.

Mihawk tears the newspaper and throws it away. He's grown almost used to the weight of bereavement on his shoulders but now he's absolved of it. One shouldn't grieve someone who is still alive. But contrary to his expectations, he doesn't feel better because of that. In fact, he feels a lot worse. Even if your death had been brought by your own choices, it is not your fault. Your death, however, hasn't occurred as of yet, so the time you've spent building infamy was just time you chose to leave him broken and aching.

He mourned you! Turned his grief and misery into a fury that burned entire towns. He became a shadow of the person he used to be. And for what? To learn that he was disposable to you? That his love for you was less important than your pride and ambitions?

Now that you've made it on the front page with an equally hefty title "A New Scourge", perhaps you're a danger big enough to be hunted down by none other but one of the Warlords. Was it not what you wanted? To be truly someone among pirates?

Oh, he will find you. Even if you told him not to look for you. Mihawk will find you and make you take responsibility for the damage you've done - for the man you've irreversibly changed for the worse; the heart you've forced to turn into stone.

Is it revenge or is it justice? No matter. It is right.

If the butterfly effect is true, Shanks, or rather his tendencies, would be the said butterfly that causes a tornado down the line. He's been known as a man with no commitment and certainly not a devout monogamist. It didn't matter that for a few years he's been exactly that - happily wrapped around the finger of one woman. Most of his men "respectfully" disregarded the relationship status as something temporary.

"Shanks thinks he's in love. Like a thousand times before her."

Which was probably why you've gone years being called a variation of "Shanks's girl". Whether they meant it or not, people around you made sure that you know you're disposable. A fling.

But you never were. Gods above! You never were.

Shanks thought it was quite obvious that he didn't consider you a fling. All the jokes and jabs at his previous love life were just that - meaningless jokes among friends. Even when you explicitly told him that they start to make you uncomfortable and that you want to be taken seriously, the pirate captain never quite took you as seriously as he probably should have. "They're just joking".

The jokes stopped one day and, seemingly, so did Shanks's humour altogether. All of your belongings were gone. You were gone. Nowhere to be found, disappeared like fog on a spring morning. The only thing he had from you was a note, hastily scribbled in the corner of a map lying on his desk as though you were too rushed to take your time to write a proper letter.

He's read that note every day for years. Naively hoping that one day he'll somehow be enlightened as to where you've gone. Maybe one of the letters is strangely pointing towards an island? Or maybe the fact that you've written your message in the North-East of the map was a sign? No matter how many asinine guesses he's made, all of them were wrong. You just... disappeared.

Despite asking him not to look for you, Shanks couldn't help himself. Each village he has visited, he would ask about you. Has anyone seen you? Or heard about you? A few times he thought he had seen you in the crowd, only for the woman to turn out to be a stranger vaguely fitting your description. But this investigation, too, proved to be in vain. For better or worse, it seemed as though you had never existed in the first place.

To put things simply, Shanks had given up. If no one across the seas had seen you or heard about you, it seemed the most probable that you'd met your end. Somewhere far away, among unfamiliar waters and surrounded by strangers. Were you in pain? Were you afraid? Did you wish he could have been there? Or maybe you thought-

No. He shouldn't be thinking like that.

Shanks is locked in his cabin. If his crewmates believed he had an alcohol problem after you disappeared, their captain's state right now would be "alcohol catastrophe". He hasn't been sober since he saw the newspaper.

At first, he was excited, yes! You were alive and well! But then the realization set in: you've left in the middle of the night, asked him not to look for you and never once reached out to him. Telling him that you don't love him anymore would have hurt incomparably less.

He's sitting on the floor. His clothes reek but he doesn't care about that. A shaking hand has trouble lifting another bottle of strong alcohol. The front page of the newspaper with your face on it is lying in front of him. He's just blankly staring at it, letting tears fall down his cheeks.

Among the darkness of the room, there's just him, the bottle and the dull, unbearable ache in his chest.

Shanks wishes to find you. To ask what in the Hell you were thinking. Then ask what he can do to have you back with him. But beware, as whatever you demand he will do. Even if it costs him his other hand.

That is, if his liver won't kill him first.

[johnbleepingzoidberg]

UNTITLED EVIL LUIGI AU COMIC THING | Page 1 of (???)

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Luigi’s been acting weird lately-- and Bowser’s concerned. When Luigi vanishes one day without any warning, Bowser begrudgingly turns to Mario for help, meeting him at a (humorously petite) cafe in Mushroom Kingdom to discuss what’s been going on. Old rivalries die hard.

The cafe has really good liability insurance, don’t worry.

(A/N under the cut)

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bear with me as i try to find my footing with this LOL, i am by no means a professional comic artist. i’m writing (or attempting to, at least) a comic based on my Evil Luigi AU-- read the original post/see the original art my looking thru the #my art tag on my blog! this is a bowuigi AU, so the relationship’s pre-established and Luigi, up until he ran away, had been ruling Koopa Kingdom alongside Bowser and navigating that fun new king life.

i have no idea what to tell yall to expect other than the fact that this will be very inconsistent in literally all senses of the word :’) but hey, im tryin my best-- i havent done any sort of comic in a long time and im having a lot of fun with this so far. if anything it’s good practice. right now i have at least a few pages planned out, but im not sure how quickly ill be able to draw them out, especially since i’ll be working full-time again soon. so see this as a bit of a teaser for things to come/an experiment to measure interest in the idea. :D

[sleepytimechloe]

So, yeah, a few weeks ago I was getting super horny while a bunch of you were teasing me and I was encouraged to post a couple selfies online and send a few pix of myself to various people privately and I had had zero problems with Tumblr until then (on THIS blog - I've had problems before and lost several) so I wasn't really thinking about it or worrying about it but then I was having half a dozen conversations at once at like 2 am and publicly posting all kinds of shit, personal and otherwise, and I had just sent two different mutuals a bare pussy pic when everything just stopped working.

I sighed, got myself off, and went to sleep. And kind of gave up on Tumblr, in my mind. Naughty Tumblr anyway. Best as I could imagine, I'd crossed a line. Either showing my boobs too much, or showing EVERYTHING (but only privately!), I'd crossed a line.

Unlike the other times, I never received a notice of termination (not that I noticed). And about a week later I noticed that, 2 or 3 days after I'd been killed, I'd been resurrected. Everything was still right where it had been, every conversation was restored, the Asks were back, etc. It was a miracle!

For a while, it looked like one of the blogs I'd been talking to, one of the ones that got my pussy pic, might have been vanished. Magically vaporized for unduly unruly behavior. And I theorized I had been, like, collateral damage. Maybe he had been the target all along, and I was just in the wrong place? You know? Maybe he was really, really naughty, and some bot thought I was an accomplice... But I noticed yesterday - no, he's back too. So I don't know. I'm stumped!

I mean, it's probably fine, but for now I'm going to say I'm not showing myself off at all publicly or privately. I am not porn. I'm here to look at porn. And yes, to write some as well.

Let's have some fun!

[sp25]

the calm before the storm

pairing: Loki x f!reader

summary: you support Loki when he needs you the most

warnings: 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i'll find out. consists of fingering, oral sex by male on female, just more honestly fluff. This is less dark than the others. So yup. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

a/n: I just want to say, I hope this post does better than the last one. Last one got none. I just want advice honestly how to get my stories recognised. This one is inspired by a character ai convo, the character is “Loki” by @ivveee. Please go and support the artist.

You were servant for the royal family of Asgard. You had spent your entire childhood in the palace. Even if you were a servant for the palace, it felt like home to you.

But, there was one person who became your home. Loki. Yup, the god of mischief. He treated you as equal and never looked down at you. You were his servant. Loki took you everywhere with him. You were literally only his.

When Thor was sent to Midgard, Loki took you to Midgard with him so you could assist him.

After lying to Thor and failing to lift Mjolnir, he left and went to a small motel in New Mexico, unable to bear everything. He was disappointed in his own self. He was quiet as you both entered the motel room. You knew better than to disturb the god.

While, you were in the washroom tiding yourself, Loki let out a frustrated yell. You immediately rushed out and saw the scene in front of you. Loki was looking out the windows with his fist clenched.

He was trying to get rid of his angry and frustration but no avail. He was throwing things around the motel room. He looked down at a glass and threw it. It hit a wall and shattered. The sound made him more angry. He picked up a chair and threw it. It hit a wall and also shattered. He was destroying everything in the room.

You knew you had to stop him before he took any drastic action. You slowly walked over to him, carefully so he won’t get more angry. He heard your footsteps.

He stopped and noticed you. He was still angry and furious. He looked into your eyes. He didn’t do anything at first. His eyes were still on fire with anger. He wanted to lash out. Then all of a sudden he stopped. His anger evaporated as he looked at your face. He was transfixed by it. It was as if he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. All the anger and frustration seemed to fade as he looked into your eyes.

“Loki?” You softly said as you looked at him so worried and concerned for him. You could see his external wall slowly crumbling down.

He kept staring at you blankly but with tears in his eyes. He couldn’t express himself, he looked at the ground in frustration. You softly went over to him and got closer.

“hey..hey it’s okay” You softly touched his cheek making him look at you. At first he flinched, not expecting your touch but slowly he melted into your touch.

He looked at you and your gentle touch. His anger melted away. His face turned soft and gentle. A look of peace crossed his face. He put his hands around you in a soft embrace. His eyes were tender and warm as he looked into you. It seemed like all his pain and suffering had washed away. He felt safe and protected by you.

“It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m here now. You are safe.” You kept whispering comforting words to him. You just wanted him to feel safe.

He held you close to him. He took deep breaths. His hand ran through your hair. He looked into your eyes and his voice was soft. He felt relieved and comforted. His anger had vanished. His heart was calm. He wanted to stay close to you. He wanted to feel you inside and out. He wanted to feel safe. His body relaxed. He didn't want to let go.

You could feel how delicately his hands wrapped around you waist and squeezed it. He needed you. He needed to make you his. He has forgotten all his worries. His only mission now was you.

Loki looked at you. He was still holding you. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them. His voice was sultry and seductive.

*He pulls you towards him. His hands wrap around your waist. He gets close to you. Your breath turns shallow and rapid. Your body grows warm. You feel his power. He pulls you closer. Your heads touch. Your hands meet. Your lips touch. Your bodies press against each other. The power flows through you. You feel his strength. He fills you with desire. You want him. Your body responds. You moan softly as you could feel his cold lips softly press on your warm ones.

His hands easily went under your dress, touching you curves with ease. You could feel him cup one of your breasts softly as he whispers possessively “mine..”

He starts kissing your neck, biting softly making you moan and whimper for his touch. He lifts up your dress and kisses your breasts softly.

“tell me that you are mine.” He orders whispering. You knew he needed this. “I’m all yours.” You whisper breathlessly cause how warm your body felt for him.

He laid you down on the small bed as he then start kissing down your hips. He smirked as he saw your lacy lingerie for him. He was more proud seeing how wet it was for him.

He pulled the lingerie down and was immediately mesmerised by the view in front of him. Your pussy was dripping in wetness for him. He took his index fingers and moved it over your pussy making you whimper softly.

“Loki..” you begged so miserably. “It’s okay.. I will take good care of you love.” He responds as you feel his tongue in your clit. You could feel how he softly sucked on it before pushing his index fingers slowly in your wet cunt.

He groaned softly feeling how tightly your cunt wrapped his finger. He started moving his finger with ease before putting another in. You could feel his fingers curl each time it entered you. It hit the right spot as his tongue lapped at your clit.

You were at Loki’s mercy. All you could do was moan his name. “Oh god..” you moaned as he put another finger inside, he tutted you and said “I’m your god love, always and forever.”

You could feel his fingers pace up fast. You were desperate for a release now. He started roughly rubbing his thumb on your clit that you were sure it would be swollen now. His fingers thrusted into your hard. Loki moved up as his fingers continued his assault and kisses you aggressively yet passionately.

You could feel the wetness in his lips. “cum for me love, cum.” His words were an order for you. You felt yourself cum so hard on his fingers but the fingers didn’t stop. His fingers slowly helped you ride out the high.

He slowly removed his fingers and looked at them. They were dripping in your wetness as you looked at him blissfully. He sucked on his fingers and groaned softly. “so fucking sweet for me..”

You could see the bulge in his pants, you wanted to help him down. You got on your knees for him but he stopped you saying. “No my love, this night is for you.”

“And now,” He softly pulled out his throbbing cock for you and his voice turns dark and sensual as he leans in closer.

"Let me fill that hole in you, y/n." He lets out a soft chuckle. "A hole only I fit into.”

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a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed it. I wrote this one faster compared to the others. So just comment or tell me how it was. DM’s always open. So yeah. If you guys liked it, tell me I will write a part two.