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syneilesis · 1 year ago

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[fic] 10:47 PM

10:47 PM

The Boy Next Door | Eun Jeongwan x Main Character (Reader) | Explicit | 3.3k words | ao3 link

Eun Jeongwan spends the night in your place. What happens then is hardly surprising.

Content tags: kissing, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, hand jobs, gratuitous use of the word noona, one Notting Hill (1999) reference

A/N: I don't know what possessed me to write this. At the time my thought process was: I like this webtoon, then Oh, 1st-person POV MC, where the reader is the MC, I like it, then Eun Jeongwan is so cute, I want him, then finally, I want to write smut of Eun Jeongwan. I'm sorry I have sinned.

This fic is based on the webtoon, The Boy Next Door. It's about a college student who reunited with her childhood neighbor, Eun Jeongwan, who's carried a torch for her the entire time despite immigrating abroad. The one-shot just portrays their spending time together, until the end when Eun Jeongwan asks her out. It's cute, Jeongwan's cute, I need more webtoons (1st-person POV) like this. You can read the raws here. The series is actually an anthology, so make sure to click the chapter titles with this text: [일] 정완과 as this is Eun Jeongwan's chapters.

Well, I don't what else to say. I don't think anybody would read this lmao. But if you're reading this, thank you 😂

For quick reference, this is what Eun Jeongwan looks like:

It's been a couple of months since you accepted Eun Jeongwan's confession. His sincerity touched your heart, and that little flutter inside your ribcage had not gone unnoticed when he intimated that he had never forgotten you—not even when he was in another country, living his own life there. That train ride home, with his large hand on yours, and his whispers of affection, his You were in my mind every day, noona. He was all so cute, but also charming, and even just to yourself, you admit that you're swept away.

And now, he's right in front of you, your boyfriend. Jeongwan. That button-nosed little kid who lived next to you, replaced by this tall, well-built, beautiful specimen of a man. Still cute, though.

And still calls you noona.

Not that it bothers you. It's actually cute, like him. And every time that deep voice shapes the word—noo-na—something tingles inside you, from the base of your spine, slithering upwards, rests upon your ears, where they gather heat, and something else.

“Are you even listening to me, noona?”

You snap out of it, and finally focus on Jeongwan, who's bent over, peering up at you in a way that you want to squish his cheeks and ruffle his hair. His eyes are set wide like a cat begging for scrumptious food, and you can't deny him for it. So you smile at him and say, “I'm sorry, what were you saying?”

He pouts, cute little thing. “I was saying—” He casts his gaze down, coy all of a sudden, before flicking it back to you. “Can I spend the night at your place?”

All your organ systems shut down, frozen immobile at his request. His expectant expression wrinkles as if you'd turn him down—and would you? Does he know what he's asking of you? What the implications of his words are?

The only thing you can say in return is, “Why?”

There's a sweep of redness across his face, dusty yet vivid. He brings both his forefingers together. “Well … Since we're already dating, I just want to spend more and more time with my noona.”

My noona. Heavens above, there's only so much self-control you can manage.

“I … see.” You're inwardly grateful that your voice doesn't sound strangled. “Okay. Okay. Do we have to stop by yours to bring something?”

He thinks about it. “Or we could meet here in two hours? I'll cook you omelette rice again tonight.”

“All right. See you then.”

He's waving goodbye as he jogs backwards. There's a coffee shop near the corner where you can spend the rest of your free time waiting for him. While you're giving your order to the barista, your mind drifts to Jeongwan and the night that will come later, and you hope that things go smoothly, for your sake.

Jeongwan does make you omelette rice, and it's as delicious, if not more, as the first time you tasted his cooking. He beams like he's won the lottery when you tell him this. Afterwards, you watch a movie in the living room. You've given him free rein of the film choice, content with sitting beside him and going along for the ride. As he scrolls through the list of options, Jeongwan's eyes keep flicking over to you, as though waiting for your feedback. But you don't react; you just let him decide for the both of you.

In the end, he settles for a romantic comedy, which earns a pleasantly surprised hum from you. “I didn't expect you to pick this one out, but all right,” you say.

“I was also thinking of you while I'd been deciding,” he replies, and you resist the urge to hug him. “Do you like what I chose, noona?”

“Of course! Now let's relax and enjoy the movie.”

The film Jeongwan played is about an unassuming bookshop owner and a world-famous actress falling in love. Before you know it, you're invested in the story. The male and female leads have chemistry, and the dramatic moments are gripping, yet still entertaining. You almost don't notice the weight of Jeongwan's head flopping onto the base of your neck.

“Hmm?” You tilt your head a bit, aiming for a glance at his face. It's obscured by his hair, but the downward direction of his long eyelashes hint of sleepiness. You smile to yourself and raise a hand to guide his head into a more comfortable position, taking care not to disturb him too much. He sighs, and his puff of breath is warm on your exposed skin.

With that kind of response from you, Jeongwan interprets it as a green light to become bolder. Not even a few minutes have passed and he shifts, wrapping his arms around your waist. His face buries itself further into your neck, his lashes, nose, and lips brushing against you.

“Jeongwan?”

He only groans in reply, nuzzling, then releases a contented sigh.

You let him, thinking that he's probably more tired than expected. And he's behaved himself afterwards. But as the film's climax unfolds, you feel a soft, ticklish sensation on your neck—one that raises goosebumps along your skin.

He's placing butterfly kisses along the column of your neck, up and down, up and down, and then he stops just below your ear. Inhales once, then nips at the skin there. A prickly yet pleasant sensation blooms, and a low sound escapes from your throat.

“Jeongwan?”

He hums. He nibbles at your earlobe, warm, moist exhales heating the side of your face, and it tingles your ear, causing you to flinch away. His arms around you tighten, trapping you. He moans, and something in you cracks.

“What are you doing, Jeongwan?” Your voice is breathy, but at least you've managed to speak without stammering.

“Noona,” he says—no, whines. He's talking against your skin, so you can also feel the words reverberate across your heating body. “Noona,” he repeats, “I want to be closer to you.”

From this lack of distance, you can smell his shampoo. Surprisingly enough, it's floral-scented, and the cologne he's using has woody notes with a hint of lavender. All unexpected, but not unwelcome. It makes you wonder, sometimes, whether Jeongwan does this to entice you further to him. You don't want to tell him he's succeeding.

“We're already close though?”

“But I want more. Closer. More.” Jeongwan makes a show of inhaling your skin. Then he tilts his face so you can see the sparkle in his mischievous eyes. “You smell so good, noona.”

The credits start to roll, and you miss the ending. But that's hardly your immediate concern right now. In fact, your gaze has never left Jeongwan since he's stolen your attention from the film. The movie's ending song has become background noise, and Jeongwan's increasingly heavy breaths occupy your hearing as every second ticks by.

“Do you …” You hesitate, biting your lip, and Jeongwan's eyes fall to your mouth. He's so obvious with his desires, his wants; has always been. You still remember the playful bite he gave your finger when you two spent the night at a hotel. He was never secretive of his attraction to you.

And it's because of his boldness that you shed your worries and go for it.

“Jeongwan, what do you want to do tonight?”

He jolts at that, caught off-guard by the question. He's probably used to your digressions whenever he articulates his attachment to you, but now that you're addressing it, he flounders, a momentary shock to his system.

Regardless, you still want everything to be clear and certain, because after this there's no going back.

“I want to—” he begins. Swallows. Tries again. “I want to … touch … you, noona. I want to touch noona.”

You exhale, mustering strength. “Okay. Okay. I want to touch you too, Jeongwan. I'm going to touch you.”

He shoots up from his slouched position, suddenly awake. Very awake. He nods vigorously at your response. “Yes, yes, please touch me, noona. Go ahead.”

He's blushing all over. Red as if he's been out under the sun for too long. When you lean forward, to him, and caress your knuckles down his cheek, his whole body shivers, his sand-colored eyes wide and locked onto your own.

You press into him. Shoulder to shoulder. Chest to chest. Groin to groin. You feel him harden against you, and you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth.

Your face is centimeters away from him. This close, you can count the lashes on his eyes. They're so pretty, just like everything about him. “I'll kiss you now, Jeongwan.”

His entire body shakes with anticipation. He reclines on the couch, taking you with him, and breathes, “Okay,” and you waste no time to align your lips with his.

He makes a sound when you come into contact. Like a thirsty man offered water for the first time in a long while. His lips are full, plump, and soft, the sort that feel good to nibble and toy with. So you do: tug his lower lip with your teeth. Gentle, tentative. The hitching moan that slips out of him ignites your blood, and you tug his lip harder before you press again, then try to pry open his mouth.

“Noo—” he tries to say in between the kiss, but the opportunity presents itself: you slip your tongue in, one of your hands capturing his jaw, cradling it for control.

Jeongwan gasps, shuddering at every moment your tongue touches his. At one point you suck it, and unbidden his hips buck, his cock straining prominently in his jeans.

“Noona, wait—” he tries again, hands clinging to your shoulders. A trickle of saliva lines down his chin, and you give in to your crazy thought: lean down and lick the drool back up, kissing him again, open-mouthed and wanton in your movements. Jeongwan sighs loudly—almost a whine; you moan in response. He sounds like music to your ears: innocent yet eager, wanting to please. Unrestrained with his reactions—just the thing that you like. “Noona, please.”

You pull back to study him: chest heaving, lips kiss-bitten and swollen, red red red like a blush. Face aflame. Your scrutiny proceeds downward and stops at the impressive bulge between his legs. You're straddling Jeongwan, and it occurs to you that it's so easy to move just a tiny bit and feel that thing against you. Sneaking a glance at his face and finding his half-mast gaze on your own, mouth parted, gulping lungfuls of air—the epitome of sublime debauchery.

Another crazy thought: you hold his gaze as you scoot back, lowering your head to his crotch. You can see in his widening eyes the dawning thought of your next move.

“Noona, wait wait wait—”

You bring your wet, hungry, parted lips to the head of his clothed cock.

His body jerks as if electrocuted, a sob emerging deep within him. His left hand shoots to grab the back of your head, and your own hand responds by gripping his wrist, ready to control the limb in case he does something that might derail your plan. You continue to mouth his erection, pulsing underneath the layers of fabric in between. Above you, Jeongwan whines and sobs in alternating fashion; gasps your name so loudly you're thankful that you live alone in the apartment. He's yanking at your hair—not too strongly, but the dull ache registers into pleasure, so you let him do it a little more.

Jeongwan calls your name again, the crack in his voice deliciously crisp that you groan around his length—which elicits another broken whine from him.

“If you keep this up, noona,” he pants, “I'm not going to last long.”

That makes you pause, retreating slightly—which also drags a groan out of him, hips chasing your heat.

“Do you—” you begin, voice husky and wet. “Do you not like it?”

Jeongwan straightens up at that. Gasps a little when the movement jostles his aching cock. “I do like it! I love it! I just …” His expression crumples in distress. “I want to make you feel good too …”

“Oh,” you say eloquently, mouth hung open. You glance down at yourself. So focused on Jeongwan's pleasure that you fail to realize that you're aching and dripping. And to think, you're both still fully clothed. The fact makes you laugh a little.

“Noona?”

You smile at him, so fond, so very fond. “Jeongwan. Jeongwan. Seeing you feel good makes me feel good, too. Come here, feel it.”

You bring the hand you're still latching onto, underneath your skirt, between your legs, and the moment Jeongwan's hand comes into contact with your soaked panties, you both jerk—a moan flying out of your lips.

“Noona, you're …” He tests a touch: slides a finger across your panties, right over your slit. You shut your eyes and shudder, sighs spilling out of you. The hand on his wrist tightens. “Oh …” he breathes.

“S-See?” you say, forcing your eyes open and meeting his gaze full of wonder.

“I …” He stumbles, takes a steadying breath, starts again. “Noona, I like you so much.” And he kisses you, tongue pushing and thrusting and he kisses like he's wanted to kiss you all his life, all thirst and hunger, the boiling point of his years-long-kept want.

His finger keeps stroking your slit, and you're already a mess: trembling legs and hips, sloppy kisses, weakening resolve. It comes to a head when Jeongwan's fingernail catches the swell of your clit, and you cry out against the corner of his mouth. He does it again, and again, and again, rubbing the hard nub until your face is wet with tears and drool. Jeongwan watches you unravel, his shallow breaths tickling your already-sensitive skin.

“You're so pretty, noona. So beautiful, so pretty … My pretty noona.”

Without warning, a finger tugs aside your panties and unfurls its narrow length across your cunt, dipping shallowly inside, and the direct contact sparks fireworks all over.

“Jeong—wan…!”

Not wanting to lose—even though this isn't a competition—you push past the overwhelming pleasure to unzip his jeans. You ignore his stuttering gasp, grabbing the band of his boxers and wrenching down, freeing his aching, leaking cock.

Red and huge and pretty and desperately in need of your touch, his cock is. You waste no time indulging it, indulging him, and his answering quiver and cry feed into your own pleasure. You give his erection a couple of pumps before pouring attention to the head, your thumb pressing into his slit.

“A-ahh, haa, noona, noona—”

In retaliation, Jeongwan presses his own thumb against your clit and slips his middle finger inside you.

“You're—tight—”

“Jeongwan,” you sigh, keeping your strokes rhythmic, and soon enough, Jeongwan's hips meet your movements.

Then he pushes another finger.

Your parted mouth on his skin crawls upward, to his ear, where you nip and nibble and suck. You lick the hole on his lobe, then bite at the flesh. When it leaves an indent, you move slightly downward and suck a hickey behind the ear. Jeongwan reflexively winces, and it's followed with a groan, and the fingers inside you curl and heat bursts at your core, spreading outwards like oil, viscous and thick.

Earlier, when he asked you to let him spend the night in your apartment, you had an inkling that something like this would happen. But the expectation is a little different from reality, the now. In your head, the scenario progresses more gently: you and Jeongwan on your bed, he reclined and you straddling him, guiding him patiently to your pleasure and his wide-eyed innocence slipping shut, your name tumbling out of his mouth in profuse sighs. But here, this: you and Jeongwan on your couch, he sat upright and you astride him, partially clothed, touching each other in frantic strokes, wet and drooling and burning desire all over, loud in your need for each other. It's baser, but in truth that's what you prefer—the uncontrollable overflowing, a waterfall, making a mess of each other.

After passing an invisible threshold, both your paces speed up, and Jeongwan increasingly gasps your name like a mantra. He's babbling, sprinkling phrases like so good and the best and my noona and yes, there, more in between. His cock pulses like it's ready to spill, pre-come smearing at your inner forearm.

“I'm going to come,” he slurs, catching you in another open-mouthed kiss. The hand between your legs is working harder as well, and you gasp in answer:

“Me too. Let's—ah—come together.”

“Y-Yeah … Oh, noona—”

You shift the angle of your caress and at the same time, using your free hand, slip under his shirt and drag your nails across his nipple. He cries out in response, a full-body jerk that derails the pace of his touch inside you. As a result his fingers hook something that makes you bowl over, and the thumb on your clit presses enough pressure to tip you over the edge, and you wail as white-hot waves crash over you, unstoppable in its intensity. Jeongwan keeps touching you, rubbing and pumping until your orgasm tides over. His eyes never leave your wracked-out form, absorbed by the bliss-out look on your face. He almost forgets that he's near the edge himself.

When you remember yourself, Jeongwan kisses you, cradles your body, lowers you in his lap, uncaring of the mess that's dripping between your legs.

“Oh,” you mumble, “sorry. Let me finish you—”

You resume stroking him, and gradually the pleasure takes over Jeongwan's face and whole body. Soon enough he's shaking and trembling and it's such a sight to see. You lightly scratch at his chest, and when he groans at that, you pinch one of his nipples.

His euphoria fills you with such satisfaction.

You don't stop your ministrations, and in mere seconds, Jeongwan repeatedly chants, “I'm coming. Noona, I'm coming. I'm going to come. I'm going to—”

He comes with a long, drawn-out cry, broken in places, loud in others. His spill reaches across your chest, soaking your damp shirt even further. His head falls onto the junction between your neck and shoulder, energy sapped by his climax.

You retrieve your hand and study the come splattered across your forearm—and mindlessly take a lick. Eyes following your movements, Jeongwan sees the moment your tongue sweeps the fluid off your skin and he groans, presses further into the crook of your neck.

“Noona,” he whines, glaring at you. “Don't do that! You're going to make me hard again!”

You glance at him, sly. “And that's a bad thing because…?”

He blinks. Once. Twice. Then it clicks. He reddens all over again, disbelief and embarrassment brightening his expression.

“At least let me catch my breath first!” He pouts, and you're overcome with the urge to bite at his lower lip again. “And savor the feeling, you know? I made my noona feel good, I'm so proud of myself.”

And now it's you who's embarrassed. Looking away, you clear your throat to move on from the topic. “Well, let's clean up first before continuing in the bedroom.”

Jeongwan shoots up at that, excited all of a sudden. “Got it, noona!” He stands, and you admire the speed with which he moves as if he hadn't just nutted furiously seconds ago. “Stay there, I'll get a washcloth.” Midway through, he pauses and throws you a coy look. “Later, I want you to be on top of me, noona. I like that, I love watching you enjoy me.”

And he walks on as though he hasn't upended your entire world from a few words alone.

#nsft #i just need an eun jeongwan of my own lmao #the boy next door webtoon #webtoon fanfic #webtoon fic #eun jeongwan x reader #eun jeongwan x mc #fic #my fic

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cryptidsurveys · 5 months ago

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Friday, July 26th, 2024.

Do you like coffee? I do.

Do your eyes ever twitch? Sometimes.

Do you get excited when you get something in the mail that isn’t a bill? No. Because if it's not a bill, then it's probably paperwork of some sort and I hate paperwork.

What was the last thing you wrote by hand? I signed out after volunteering earlier.

Why did you last feel exhausted? I currently feel somewhat emotionally/socially exhausted. Sometimes things just get to me. It's been a day like any other - nothing all that different or out of the ordinary has happened - but it's like my defenses/reserves just aren't functioning the way they usually do. It's exhausting to try so hard, to continue putting myself out there, but to still feel like a permanent outcast.

Have you ever used emotional blackmail to get your own way? I'm not sure what you mean by emotional blackmail, but have I ever been emotionally manipulative? Sure.

Has anybody ever used emotional blackmail on you? I guess.

Assuming you have any, is your hair soft today? Not really. My hair always feels so dry.

Who did you last worry about and why? I'm not sure who that would have been.

When are you next at work? I'm just going to answer work-related questions with my volunteer stuff from now on. I'll be there again on Sunday, probably for a full day.

Do you enjoy your work? Yeah. I get to spend my day around a ton of cats, and the actual "work" aspect is relatively easy and straightforward. I'll give a basic rundown.

Depending on the day, I'll get there sometime between 7-8am.

Start laundry; fold and put away any clean stuff.

If Alex or Diane is there, then I'll go back to cattery around 7:30 and start getting things set up - line up carriers to put the cats in while we clean the colonies + get the dish/scoop/rag/mop bins ready if someone else hasn't already done that.

Clean colonies and kennels from around 8-10:30 (sometimes it takes a bit longer; sometimes it goes by quite quickly). We wipe everything down, refill food and water, scoop litter, change bedding if needed, and sweep and mop colonies.

I don't do all of the following tasks - it's kind of divided up between whoever is there - but then we wash dishes and scoops, sweep and mop the main room, clean out and put away carriers, take out the trash, and straighten things up.

Then we chill out for a bit and play with the kitties. Go to lunch sometime around 11-12pm.

Come back, continue to chill; help direct other volunteers or anyone looking to adopt.

I think around 2pm is the afternoon feed, so we'll feed the cats, let them eat, pick up and wash dishes. They let me feed yesterday, so that was cool. :')

3pm, second litter scoop + clean scoops afterward.

Shortly before 4pm, go get Smeagle from the office and put him back in his cattery kennel.

4pm, go around the whole shelter and empty and replace trash bags, then take trash out to the big dumpster.

Around 4:30-5pm, see if the dog side needs any help with things; so maybe do dishes, fill water bowls, mop and dry kennels, pick up stuff from the yards, take stuff to the back to spray it down, etc.

Annnd get out whenever all that's finished and final checks are done. Sometimes it's close to 6pm, but yesterday we managed to get out of there at 5:15.

Are you currently looking for a new place to live? No.

When was the last time you ate/drank something gross just to be polite? I'm not sure. I don't tend to put myself in that sort of situation.

Can you see any toys from where you’re sat? Do stuffed animals count? I can see a couple of those.

Last time you heard a growl, who or what did it come from? Probably a cat at the shelter.

Does it bother you when you forget something that you should know? Yeah. Or whenever I forget to do or mess up something simple.

What was the last thing you put off doing? Cleaning the bathroom. I'll do that when I'm finished here, though.

When did you last make up a baby’s bottle? I've never done that before.

What was the last thing you cooked? I haven't done any real cooking in quite some time. Most I'll do is heat stuff up on the stove/in the oven or put something in the microwave.

Do you eat your dinner at a dining table, coffee table or just off your lap? I usually eat in my room, at my computer desk. Sometimes I'll eat at the kitchen table and chat with my dad, though. Especially after full days at the shelter because it's pretty much like - get home, shower, eat, get ready to go to bed.

When did you last see the sea? Not since I was a teen.

Which would you prefer as a view; mountains or the sea? Mountains.

Do you have a mouse for your laptop? (Assuming you have a laptop) I don't have a laptop.

Do you apologise a lot? Not excessively…? I mostly just use it as a variation of "excuse me" if I accidentally get in someone's way or whatever.

Do you have any framed black & white photos in your home? Who are they of? No.

#survey #surveys #personal survey #random survey #survey blog

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chaifootsteps · 1 year ago

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Hullo! It's SecretID!Alastor Anon, haunting your inbox with Alastor blether again:

I'll preface this with that this continues off of my rewrite AU ideas, Radio Demon's Identity-is-a-secret/unknown AU and wing amputee, peryton!Alastor who's been in survival (stressy) mode since his ass dropped into hell decades ago (is it bad that I kinda want Hell time and Earth time to have time dilation? 1:1 time ratio's kinda boring ngl).

For your consideration: Transman Alastor. He doesn't have physical antlers, they'd be shadow constructs and he can change their size and shape generally however he wants if he's got the magic/energy for it. I'm thinking of his powers being more shadow as well as radio-based (god his canon powers, design and motifs are so goddamn overcrowded, radio, shadows, eldritch-in-the-lovecraftian-sense, AND voodoo? holy fuck)? And maybe some shadow realm hammerspace for travel convenience (personal meat freezer and travel bag anybody?)? He'd be the kinda fellow who's always on the move, never stays in one place too long or too often and once a place's "safety" in his mind has been even partially-compromised he won't return to it for quite some time.

Also I had the design-idea of even replacing the black hairtips from canon with something like, bits of shadow crawling up his hair. Because he doesn't cast a shadow the normal way? He would keep his shadow off the ground, possibly hidden under his clothes, basically hugging himself tight (it could even help with holding himself upright whenever he's injured or weak/tired), leave no trace for predators to follow or tells for prey to see. Hell, maybe the shadow antlers are his shadow's hands but transformed and warped into different shapes? Can also resemble Radio Wireframe antennae or something sometimes?

And because I have nowhere else to put it, but, Alastor with the ability to steal voices and stories of people he kills in a certain way (certain criteria?) or something? Somethingsomething radio stuff? Idk how the radio and how sound design works, even with 30s or 30s adjacent tech, I feel like there's flavor to be found there of him being able to throw his (or someone else's) voice (or multiple voices). I can imagine him doing a wounded gazelle gambit but with voice throwing to lure a target somewhere more isolated.

I'm really in love with the idea of themes of Alastor being equal parts Hunter and Hunted, both in his behaviors and design. Shadows and radio, mostly heard, and if you DO see him, you either never knew he was there or it's too late (for you). Predator and Prey and awfully aware of it, the preference of low-risk moderate-reward ventures warring with that prey instinct that is equal parts hide/run away and beat the ever-loving shit out of that thing that looked at you vaguely threateningly. And it's not like these instincts come specifically from just, dying and his new form in Hell, but also based off of either experiences or exaggerated bits of Alastor's personality and the magic that formed his Hell-body going off of that or something idk.

Also, yanno another thing that could be interesting? What if in his life on Earth, he never even got to be on the radio? And the closest he ever got was being one of the studio crew or staff, or his 'crimes' being reported/talked bout on air (I'm kinda leaning more and more vigilante killer with Alastor, to tie further with the comic). But maybe he collected radios and tried making his own setup (a lot harder in the 1930s I'd imagine), practiced his voice and what his show would be like, but never got to be on the air no matter how hard he worked or tried, a dream forever unrealized (until Hell).

Random more down to earth (hah) stuff about my version of Alastor, besides cooking, hunting/tracking, and butchering/dressing down kills (whatever they may be), I could imagine him liking to sew or make clothes, something he could've done with his mother maybe? Or maybe he's just picked up some things from some trades he's worked in his life back on Earth when he was trying to work up into the radio business. Kinda a jack of several trades. Also this Alastor would drink his (at least, his version of) Respect Women juice, and Vaggie isn't excluded from this either (like I could imagine him annoying her a bit, but no ass slappage like canon, sorry not sorry). Also wing amputee things but, chronic residual limb pain? Or burns too, I haven't decided (sorry not sorry, I like my whump what can I say).

Also when trying to pitch the Radio Demon's deal to Charlie, Charlie can tell that Alastor himself was lying about Something, just not about what because idk I would imagine that everybody in Hell (and on Earth too) lies about things, even normal regular things. Charlie isn't that stupid, she's lived in Hell her entire life. Also okay, I really like the idea of her doing this entire plan all because she just wants Vaggie (can I rename her Aggie or something, pls) to be safe in Heaven and has no idea if this could work, they don't even know by what measure Heaven accepts people, much less condemned sinners ffs.

I would imagine that Alastor himself would be 'sending reports' to the Radio Demon (lol) as he helps the Hotel run better or something, with the Radio Demon making a few 'appearances' over the radios that start to populate the Hasbeen Hotel after the (informal?) alliance is started. There would be some mystery as to Why the Radio Demon wants to ally with this venture, because the boredom excused won't hold forever, and according to Niffty and Husk, Alastor has been in the Radio Demon's employ longer than they ever were, so who better to grill or watch for info? Any maybe, I would say that out of all his (relatively few, compared to other Sinners in the weight class that everyone assumes the Radio Demon is in) contracts, he likes Husk and Niffty the best (I mean, they've actually met Alastor as himself enough to sorta know him, even if they don't know he's the Radio Demon either, so that could say a lot). Idk what to do with his relationship to Rosie rn.

Thanks for listening to my ever-increasing Alastor blether again, thoughts, rebuttals or additions are welcome. <3

Loving all this blether! The part about Alastor drinking his respect women juice jumped out at me in particular, because I'm pretty sure Vivzie's under the impression that he already does. There's that comic where he saves a woman from being attacked and kills the guy who does it, but Vivzie also can't resist the urge to have him slap Vaggie on the ass because she thinks it's funny when characters are horrible to Vaggie.

A better writer would contrast the perfect gentleman Alastor thinks he is with the reality and also with Angel, who doesn't give a shit who he's rude to, but...Vivzie!

#Anonymous #vivziepop mention #actual blog post

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divinexharmony · 1 year ago

Text

It wasn’t until recently that I understood , what the depth of a comment I received from my Aunt held when she said she respected how noble it was that I became a stay at home mother. & the majority of the world will never understand. It’s one of those things you’ll never understand is like.. like what losing your home to a fire means, or losing a family member you loved with all of your life means. Because even at your very strongest, you watch things you can’t control happen. You trade money and the comfort of friends for a love you hope doesn’t fade. You hope you can give them a stable home. & You watch this attachment happen with your kids that only you will know because they physically have no capacity to remember anything except for extremes and you just hopes that you’re not giving extreme negativity. You watch literally everything materialistically you worked so hard for get stained, chipped, ripped, cut or broken but have no sureness in how exactly you’ll be able to replace any of it. You don’t make any money. Especially any money to replace these things. Or even to get the hygiene care you need to keep up with the new stress or even to rank with women of your age. You watch yourself desire to become the best at this job more than you’ve ever purely desired to become, and fail. or you feel like you’re failing. bc you snap. bc why do I tell you not to pull the whole toilet paper role put 10x a day for over 10 months. or you can’t draw a black marker line on literally 100 things in less than 2 minutes while I was in the bathroom that totals a loss of $3,000 and you can’t make out with your sister in the shower that’s weird. or you can’t eat lipgloss or smother yourself in all of your food. and you can’t touch your diaper. and you can’t touch knives and why have there been so many glass pieces in my feet I’ve walked around with for days multiple days a year and you can’t lock mommy outside until firemen show up and all the neighbors think I hunt myself even though I’m not even like that for anybody to see I don’t think.. why did they think that??? and you’re afraid to tell anybody bc they think they have the solution and you can’t tell them their wrong. and you live alone. but not alone but with minds that experience everything you’re experiencing but for the first time…. And you’re in charge of making it magical or else they might get your suicidal ideations. Holidays. Appointments. Taxes. Paperwork. every single cleaning detail. 98 hours+ a week. outdoors everyday, development everyday, enriching activities everyday, music for kids and appropriate adult music times everyday, shopping, fun activities and cooking that you have to include them in and when you do it takes 4x as long, good morning after goodnight . back hurting, wrists hurting, tailbone feels like it’s broken if you sit for too long, but you’ve been doing chores for so long on flat feet that your feet bone structure hurts and your hands rash even in summer for over washing, your butthole feels like it’s about to fall out if you sit in the toilet for too long on your phone. not to mention if you sit down anywhere they climb on you to regulate and it bothers you but it doesn’t until things start to fall or they start to wrestle you for your coffee. but if they’re not sitting on you they’re climbing in the counters and the tables to see what you tried to hide from them, or the couches and tables to jump off, even thought they have a huge slide that takes up all the play space. and it’s like whyyyy do you want to hurt your bodyy by trusting the world so hard just let me tell you yes or no and you see the future bc of this & then you’re afraid of being by yourself as a women outside with kids. you look over your shoulders every second , have a knife, a phone and a vape in all of your pockets, always making an escape plan. There’s never a break.

It’s not like anything regular you’ve ever known. It’s not even compatible. & it’s funny people even try to make comparisons. Bc this isn’t even the half of what it’s like to be a stay at home mom. This was just today.

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sunkissedpages · 3 years ago

Text

instead of you [part sixteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

word count: 3.1k

series masterlist

smut warnings: female masturbation, porn, mentions of choking

“‘We’? Like, you and me?” you clarified, hoping you had misunderstood.

“Yeah, it’ll only take a second,” Tom assured you.

You looked to Sam for help, but he looked just as lost as you were. “I’ll go try and find a microwave to heat up your leftovers,” he offered and took the container back from you. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

“Okay...”

You watched him shrug past both you and Tom and then disappear into the hallway with a sinking feeling in your chest, knowing he trusted you completely. He had no reason not to, and that’s what consumed you.

“What do you want?” you muttered, reluctantly stepping to the side to let Tom in.

He didn’t answer right away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. His eyes followed you around the room as you found your pants and tugged them on. He averted his gaze when he realized you were getting dressed mumbling a “sorry” as he trained his eyes on the carpet.

You sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain why he was there.

“You weren’t there today,” was all he said.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“Was it because of me?”

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

Tom’s tongue poked at the inside of his cheek. “Is that all?”

“I had a lot to drink last night,” you reminded him.

“So you don’t remember anything?”

“I never said that.”

“So it was because of me?”

“I never said that either.” You sighed. “If you’re here to ask me if I told him you kissed me, I didn’t. And you could’ve just texted me to ask.”

“No that’s not why- I don’t have your number anyway.”

“I’m in the trip group chat with your family.”

“Oh, right. I’ll save it to my contacts.”

The tension in the room was palpable. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out and replaced with thick, suffocating silence. Arbitrarily, you wondered who the most famous person in his phone was. He was a Marvel actor, he probably had Simu Liu’s number, right? Who would your contact information be sitting in between? Maybe if you ever forgave him for what he did you could ask him.

“Is something funny?” The firmness of Tom’s voice cut through your train of thought and brought you back to the present. “Why are you smiling?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said despondently. “Sam’s gonna be back soon. What did you want?”

“I just wanted to check up on you. Sam said you were sick.”

“Oh, so you wanted to see if I was lying?”

“No! God, why is it so hard to believe that I’m genuinely concerned about you?”

“Because last night you only seemed concerned about yourself.”

Tom pursed his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, expelling a breath harshly. “Okay, I deserved that.”

You hummed in agreement, and let your eyes trail down the veins of his arms to where they disappeared into his pockets. It looked like he was fiddling with a coin or something small, but you couldn’t tell.

“Are you feeling better?” he said the last part through gritted teeth.

“Yes, thank you. This chat has helped considerably.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Well, lucky for you I’m not your problem to deal with. I'm Sam’s.”

He flexed his hand in his pocket and sighed. “Okay, well, I also wanted to apologize again for...” the word kiss seemed to die on his lips, poetic irony at its finest. “Being a dick.” Less poetic.

He finally fished his hand out of his pocket, holding a delicate piece of paper between his pointer and index fingers. He shifted uncomfortably where he was leaning against the dresser. “We went to the Academic Gallery today. I saw this in the gift shop and thought of you.” He presented you with what turned out to be a postcard, creased down the middle unevenly and smudged with pen ink.

You turned it over to look at the front first, admiring the artwork printed on it. It was a picture of Michelangelo’s David drawn in swoopy black lines and filled in with watercolor paint. Instead of a museum, the statue was in the middle of a garden, the centerpiece among dozens upon dozens of flowers.

“Sorry it’s folded,” he mumbled. “It wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”

You flipped it over to read the back only to see iou scribbled in his handwriting and nothing else. You turned it over again to see if you had missed something on the front, but there was nothing.

You looked up at him in confusion. “Iou?”

“Yeah, you know... I feel really bad about last night, and I don’t really know how to make it up to you so I’m letting you decide.”

“That’s not really how it works.”

“I think that this counts as an exception, since we’re kind of in uncharted territory.”

“Maybe for you. My boyfriend’s brothers make out with me all the time.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t make out with you- it was barely a peck.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It was more than a peck.”

His cheeks were beginning to grow pink with what you couldn’t tell was either embarrassment or frustration. He cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the subject. “Anyway, if you ever need a favor or anything, just let me know. Think of it as me owing you one.”

“And do I have to give back the postcard when I cash in this ‘favor’?” you asked.

“No, you can keep it.”

“Good, because I was going to keep it anyway.”

He chuckled in spite of himself and shook his head. “Knew you’d like it.”

You flattened the card on your lap, smiling as you tried to iron out the little crease with your fingers.

“It’s pretty, thank you.”

Tom nodded in acknowledgement and straightened his posture. “I should get going. I just wanted to give you that, and see how you were doing since tomorrow’s a travel day and I know you get a little motion sick sometimes. I didn’t want... whatever you’d come down with to make it worse.”

How did he know that? Had Sam told him? You didn’t have time to ask because he was already walking towards the door. He paused when he reached it and turned his head towards you, hand already on the knob.

“Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Tom.”

He opened the door and let himself out into the hallway, catching it suddenly on his foot as he saw Sam coming off the elevator. Tom held the door for Sam, since his hands were full, and then said goodnight to his brother as he finally left.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the microwave,” he explained. “I had to ask the night manager and they heated it up in the break room for me.”

“Oh, Sam, you didn’t have to do that! I would’ve eaten it cold.”

“I know you would have, and that’s why I’m not letting you.” You gave him a look, which he ignored and handed you the container of food. “It’s carbonara, it’s one of the things Rome is known for. I couldn’t have you eating it lukewarm.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a seat next to you on the edge of the bed, pulling the ottoman closer to use it as a makeshift table. He watched as you tried the first bite, gauging your reaction. It was something he did whenever he cooked for you, especially if he was trying out a new recipe. He always needed your approval, and valued it above anybody else’s. But he hadn’t even made this, and as his eyes searched your face you found yourself wondering if they were looking for something else.

“Do you like it?”

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Your paranoia was starting to get the better of you. “It’s delicious,” you assured him. “I’m sad I missed dinner.”

“I’m sad you missed the whole day. Spending time with my family without you was hell.”

“Oh come on, it’s probably good that you got some real family time.”

“It’s real family time when you’re there. It felt like something was missing.”

You let a small smile slip past your lips despite the guilt that bubbled under the surface. You pushed it down and took another bite of the carbonara.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you? It can’t have all been bad. Tell me about the good stuff. I wanna hear that.”

Sam nodded and pushed his curls back again, grinning like he’d been caught. “Fine, maybe there were some okay moments.”

“And what were they?”

“We went to the Accademia Gallery today. I think you would have really liked it. They had a whole wing of instruments from some of the most famous inventors and musicians from history. They even had pianos from Bartolomeo Cristorfori, the inventor of the piano.”

“Wow,” you said, impressed. “I bet it was beautiful.”

“Of course if it was played, it wouldn’t sound anything like the piano we’re used to hearing today, but I’m sure it would still sound incredible.”

“Even if it hasn’t been tuned in a few hundred years?”

It was his turn to give you a look. “Yes, of course.”

“Sorry.”

“And they had a Strativerius, I don’t even want to know how valuable that thing is. It must cost millions. I took some pictures for you, but I know they won’t compare to the real thing. The lighting in museums never does the art justice.”

He handed his phone to you to scroll through. You swiped the photos, smiling whenever you came across a selfie he’d taken with a statue or painting. You reached the pictures of David and couldn’t help but zoom in on-

“Hey!” Sam yelped and grabbed his phone back from your hands.

“What!”

“Michelangelo would be so ashamed of you! I bet he’s rolling in his grave right now.”

“No way! If anyone appreciated good dick, it was Michelangelo.”

“Unbelievable.”

“If you don’t want me to judge these statue’s penises, don’t take pictures of them.”

“I didn’t take pictures of their penises! I took pictures of the whole statue- you’re zooming in on- you know what, nevermind. Arguing with you about this is pointless.”

“Smart boy.”

Sam rolled his eyes at you and put his phone in his back pocket. “Oh yeah, did Tom give you that postcard?”

“He told you about that?” you asked, suddenly panicking. Sam hadn’t said anything about last night so far, but maybe Tom had-

“Yeah, said he wanted to give you an iou for the limoncello last night.”

“What?”

“He said you paid the tab for it since he left his wallet in the room and that he wanted to pay you back for it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Another lie. You had very much not paid for the drinks last night. Tom had. And you knew he had to make an excuse for why he was buying his brother’s girlfriend something from the gift shop, but to add another lie to the ever-growing list made your throat burn with regret. You wouldn’t be able to keep the secret forever, and it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down around you.

In the morning you took the train from Rome to Naples, and then took a taxi to Sorrento to spend the last bit of your week in Italy by the sea. The atmosphere was much more relaxed than it had been in the busy cities of Rome and Florence. Even though there were still hordes of tourists, they were far more dispersed and less overbearing than you expected. The whole town seemed slowed down, like it had escaped the chokehold of time.

Sam’s parents took everyone out to lunch by the water and went over the schedule for the next day and a half.

“So, you’re on your own after dinner tonight, and then tomorrow morning we’re going to take the ferry to Capri for the day before our flight that night,” Nikki explained as she read through the spreadsheet on her phone.

“There’s an Irish pub down the street from our hotel,” Harry said. “Do you guys want to go after we eat tonight?”

“I’m down,” Sam agreed.

“Sounds good,” Tom chimed in.

The boys all looked at you for your answer, but you hesitated. Thinking about what happened the last time you drank didn’t make you eager to do it again, and you were already exhausted from travelling.

“I’ll pass.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m tired, and I’d rather go somewhere Italian... since we’re in Italy.”

Harry shrugged. “Your loss.”

“We’ll have a shot in your honor, babe,” Sam said and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Please don’t. Something tells me you’ll have plenty to drink without an extra shot for me.”

“You know us so well.”

After dinner, you walked back to the hotel with the Hollands and said good night to Sam’s parents before parting ways to your separate rooms. Sam went with you to change into clothes for going out while you changed into pajamas.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

You nodded from where you were on the bed and yawned. Sam didn’t push any further, instead resolving to finish getting ready in silence. He paired his black jeans with a pair of converse and a dark green button up over a black t-shirt.

He turned to you for approval.

“Fake girlfriend approved?”

“Fake girlfriend approved,” you repeated and gave him a thumbs up.

“Okay, well I’m headed out,” he announced.

“Have fun! Don’t kiss any cute girls without me!”

It was something you always said to each other, but it sounded strange since it was supposed to be coming from his girlfriend. Sam just chuckled and blew you a kiss as he let himself out.

You heard him greet his brothers outside and then listened to their footsteps fade into the distance before pulling up an incognito window on your phone. It had been weeks since you’d been able to get off and it was killing you. The amount of stress this trip had given you only made it worse. You were wound so tight that you were sure you’d snap soon if you didn’t get some relief.

And you thought that maybe if you rubbed one out it might help you forget about... the confusing feelings you had for your best friend’s brother.

Seeing as you had the night to yourself, you figured you might as well take advantage of it. You copied a link from your notes app and pasted the url into the address bar. You didn’t feel like digging through your luggage to find your earbuds so you set the volume low enough for only you to hear.

The video started playing and you let your hand wander from your side up to your neck, brushing your hand lightly across your collarbone. You traced the curve of your breasts with a finger before squeezing one of them gently, feeling your nipple harden under your palm. You only had one hand to use since the other was holding your phone, but you made do.

The video was one of your favorites, one you found yourself watching at least once a week. It was one of the few videos of hetero couples you had favorited, and it started with the guy going down on the girl before fucking her...

You admired the muscles on the man’s back, watching intently as they flexed whenever he moved his head. The woman moaned, struggling to keep her legs open while he brought her closer and closer to orgasm.

You let your hand travel down further until it was sitting at the waistband of your pajama shorts. You knew you had a while before Sam would be back, but you were too impatient to wait. You propped your phone up on a pillow next to you to free your other hand as you started to play with your clit.

You pictured someone’s head in between your thighs, imagining them moaning against your pussy as they tasted you for the first time.

The man was taking his pants off now and lining himself up with his partner’s pussy. You tried to follow along, putting yourself in the moment with the couple. You gathered your own wetness on two of your fingers to lubricate them and slid them inside yourself, sighing in relief. Your entire body tensed as it accommodated to the stretch and you gave yourself a few beats before moving your fingers.

When you finally did, you felt yourself relax and sped up your pace so that it matched the actors on screen.

The angle the video was shot at hid the man’s face and you found yourself wondering what he looked like. If you squinted you could almost picture Tom- no. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, but it was already there.

Closing your eyes didn’t help either. You just imagined Tom’s fingers sliding in and out of you instead of your own, imagined the veins on his arms becoming more pronounced as he tightened his grip on your thigh.

“Fuck,” you cursed, knowing you should stop.

You were too close to stop now, and the pleasure was clouding your judgement. Suddenly the man brought his hand up to the girl’s throat and began to choke her, sending her hurtling into her own orgasm. You moaned accidentally, thinking about Tom’s hand around your throat. You curled your fingers up so that you were hitting your g-spot and whimpered pathetically.

This was wrong. This was bad. Not only were you fantasizing about your best friend’s brother, but you were confusing yourself even further.

You tried to fight it, at least that’s what you told yourself, but all you could hear were Tom’s moans echoing through the speaker. You pictured the way he’d look on top of you. His eyes would be so dark and he’d be smirking like the cocky asshole he was, chain hanging down in your face- just inviting you to take it into your mouth. It didn’t take long before you felt your orgasm begin to build. The video was still playing in the background, the man still chasing his own high and bringing his partner to her second orgasm, but you’d tuned it out by now. You came around your fingers thinking about Tom’s hips snapping into yours.

You were fucked.

lmk what you think!! i always appreciate feedback

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webofpassione · 3 years ago

Text

Baking Cookies

Christmas Countdown: Bucciarati x Reader

Content Warnings: References to Polygamy

***

You noticed the problem before it happened. Slipping from the hold, you hastily turned off the stove before the mixture could burn and stirred fiercely to keep the pot safe as well.

Bucciarati watched you, the fondest of smiles being offered for you alone. “I forgot about that.”

You had too, if you were being honest, but nobody could blame you for it. Bucciarati’s two clips had been replaced with festively striped variants but they weren’t being too effective thanks to the baking, a few strands of his crafted hairstyle escaping. The smallest smudge of flour on his face made him hard to look away from. And that was without even glancing at his bow-covered apron.

“It’s fine,” you reassured. “It didn’t burn.”

You poured it into a glass bowl to cool. The orange and cinnamon scents had been filling the kitchen already but now you could make out faint hints of fig. It was such a delicious smell that you were tempted to close the windows and trap it with you forever.

Soft hands smoothed over your hips as Bucciarati came to stand behind you. He placed his head on your shoulder and breathed in deeply.

“I’m so lucky to have you here,” he hummed. “I wouldn’t want to face the others without anything to show for our baking attempts.”

“It feels more like you’re trying to sabotage my baking,” you teased.

Bucciarati wasn’t very good in the kitchen. His work kept him busy late into the evenings and he rarely took part in any kind of cooking. Honestly, you worried that if he was alone, he would never eat until he faded away.

But he’d wanted to try and, when he had time, he’d make his way into the kitchen with whoever was there to learn a little more.

Of course, his roaming hands made for a brilliant distraction.

You headed to the fridge to take out your dough, giving half to Bucciarati and beginning to roll it out. There was an excessive amount to feed Narancia and Mista who could both eat double the regular portion of food by themselves.

What you hadn’t counted on was how easy it was to get mesmerised by the flex of Bucciarati’s forearms as he worked. His hair fell forward, framing his face, as he focused on the task.

“You’re falling behind.”

“I can’t help it,” you said though his comment broke you free from your trance. “You’re beautiful.”

He smiled, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. “As are you.” There was a glint in his eyes revealing just how happy your presence made him.

You flushed a little at the compliment though it easily could have been because of the slight chill in the air. At least, if anybody were to ask, that’s what you would be blaming it on. Bucciarati’s honeyed tone shouldn’t get to you anymore but they always would.

He always made you feel like you were the most important person in the world.

“My grandmother once tried to teach me how to make these when I was a child,” he said, a warm fondness in his voice. “But I never wanted to because I’d always want to go and play in the snow instead.”

“I couldn’t stand how they tasted when I was younger,” you said. “I used to feed them to the neighbour’s dog.”

You laughed together, overruling the soft music playing from behind you.

Bucciarati hadn’t stopped smiling once during the holiday season. He came alive with the lights, their bright colours reflecting in his eyes, and he’d twirled you around in circles as the first snow of the year began to fall. No matter what song was on, he sung along softly and he’d finished his Christmas shopping long before anybody else.

It was his favourite time, he’d told you, because it had all of his happiest memories contained within it. Especially now as he got to share it with everybody he loved.

When you’d suggested baking, his excitement had practically been visible even if he’d just provided an elegant acceptance.

You hadn’t been expecting it to happen on the day where the others were going Christmas shopping and from the expression on Abbacchio’s face, he hadn’t been anticipating getting stuck with them either.

But Bucciarati had waved them goodbye and guided you to the kitchen with a hand on the small of your back. Every ingredient had been laid out and put carefully into smaller containers for easy access.

The flour jar was a little tight for you so you stepped away to get a cloth or something when a flash of blue and white startled you slightly. A golden zip wrapped around it, peeling the glass apart like it had never been connected.

You couldn’t help but giggle at Bucciarati’s solution even if you nearly broke the upper part of the jar when you put it down.

Sticky Fingers stayed out though, the stand wrapping its arms around your waist and burying its face into the back of your neck. The spikes on his helmet dug a little into you but it was easy to ignore once you got used to it.

The stand was never in the way but he didn’t leave your side; Bucciarati’s solution for how you could bake without getting distracted.

But he was far from the real thing and the moment the cookies were in the oven, you were sliding into Bucciarati’s arms.

“They’ll be in there for about ten minutes,” you said. You finally managed to bring yourself to wipe away the flour on his cheek though it was an awful loss.

Bucciarati fed you a bit of the leftover filling on a spoon before tasting some himself. It was a little sweeter than what you would find in a store-bought cookie but it had a distinct freshness to it that remained unparalleled.

“Ten minutes is too short for much else,” he said, caressing your cheek with a gentle touch. “Why don’t we go appreciate the weather a little?”

A light, powdery snow was beginning to drift down from the sky when you stepped through the door. The warmth from the kitchen seemed to follow you, wrapping around you like a coat even in the chilly weather. Bucciarati twined your fingers together and led you into the garden, the snow settling in his hair like glitter.

You touched the petals of a pink rose, brushing the snowflakes from its leaves. Would Giorno’s creations be affected by the cold? You didn’t know but you wanted to provide it with a small chance.

Bucciarati pulled you into his arms, smelling like the cuccidati you’d been making. He leaned his forehead against your own and closed his eyes.

You did the same, relaxing in his existence. The two of you stood in the snow until your timer went off and then waited just a little longer; neither of you willing to break the tranquil spell that had washed over you.

The cookies were a little burnt by the time you got around to them but it didn’t matter: they still tasted amazing.

#jjba x reader #bruno bucciarati #bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati #bruno bucellati x reader

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braindeadbaddie · 3 years ago

Text

The Ghosts That Haunt Us

I know you hear me when I cry

I try to hold it in at night

When you’re sleeping next to me

But it’s your arms that I need this time

Chifuyu bites his lip, trying to swallow down the sobs that threaten to climb out of his throat. He grabs a pillow, stuffing his face into it and biting to muffle all the sounds that threaten to leak from his overflowing heart.

The pillow is stained with his tears, his body shaking in silent sobs, and from the ghost of a cold cold body that he once held in his arms years ago.

Besides him, he can feel Takemichi twitch awake, shifting to wrap an arm around him. He feels him hesitate before settling his arm across his waist, pulling him into the warmth of his embrace.

God, what a terrible boyfriend he is.

Up late, picturing a black sea and a grey sky, when he has the warmth of the sun and a bright blue sky right besides him.

But he can’t help it.

Tonight, he misses Baji.

Tonight, he needs him.

Look at the cards that we’ve dealt

If you were anybody else

Probably wouldn’t last a day

Every tear’s a rain parade from hell

He loves Takemichi.

Their relationship isn’t laced in beauty or innocence. It was originally a partnership bred from the need to save the future. But he’s understanding, and kind, and always there to help. He’s sweet and dedicated, fiercely loyal, and so so loving.

They sought comfort in each other because they understood each other. Better than anyone else.

He knows Takemichi doesn’t blame him for the days that he can’t reciprocate his love, because his heart is somewhere else. He knows Takemichi understands more than anyone why he can’t share his food sometimes. He knows that Takemichi understands, better than anyone.

Mistakes were made and there were casualties of Takemichi’s battle against time, and even though they managed to find a future where everyone could be together, the ghosts of the past still haunt them both.

But sometimes, he wonders if their love is born out of necessity rather than true love.

Baby you do it so well

You’ve been so understanding, you’ve been so good

And I’m putting you through more than one ever should

And I’m hating myself cause you don’t want to

Admit that it hurts you

Chifuyu knows it’s hard. He cries over Baji often.

The night of his birthday and the day of. The week of Halloween, the days before when he didn’t have his friend. Sometimes, he cries when he sees a black cat or a stray. He cries on dates they had made special memories of.

Some days are a light rain, other are storms that flood.

Chiufyu thinks that he must only exists in tears and in numbness. There are days he can feel, so all he feels is pain, and days where he can’t, so he feels nothing.

Takemichi seems to be able to handle it so well. But Chifuyu knows. He knows this is too much for him to bear.

Takemichi already saved the future, so he should be able reap the fruits of his labor.

And yet here he is, fighting a losing battle to save Chiufyu.

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

Over him

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

‘stead of ghostin’ him

Takemichi, more than anyone, hurts seeing Chifuyu cry. And yet, he has to deal with it the most.

He feels the most guilty, the most responsible. Because he knew and he still couldn’t do anything about it.

Chifuyu sees it in Takemichi’s eyes when he wakes up with a start after dreaming of black and grey, and red. So much red. The look in Takemichi’s eyes, screaming that he shoudn’t be here. That there should be someone else.

Someone to go to the pet store with him every morning. Someone who helps him fight his battles. Someone who will split his yakisoba with him. Someone named Keisuke Baji.

And Chifuyu wants to comfort him and tell he loves him and loves having him around.

But it feels pointless when his tears later that night wash away all his words.

We’ll get through this, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

But I love you, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

On good nights, Chifuyu will lay his head in Takemichi’s chest, curled into his side, letting him run mindless patterns into his back.

Takemichi tucks his head under his chin and whispers sweet nothings to him.

On those night, they feel like a normal couple, instead of a pair cursed by time.

Though I wish he were here instead

Don’t want that living in your head

He just comes to visit me

When I’m dreaming, every now and then

Its hard to count the amount of times Chifuyu has woken up screaming another man’s name.

But the nightmares are so frequent, it’d probably be easier to count the times he didn’t.

In his dreams, he’s always a first-year in middle school, walking through the hallways to find a nerd who can’t spell or write properly. So he helps the poindexter write a letter and in return, he gives him a friendship with so much love that it’s enough to last his whole life.

And in the dream, he spends so many days on the floor of his or the other boy’s bedroom tutoring him and teaching him all sorts of things. And they play with stray cats that come through the boy’s windows. And there’s so much peyoung yakisoba. And at the end of his dream, he’ll get to hold him at night, and he feels warm…

…until the warmth starts to feel wet too.

And suddenly he’s back in a junkyard, holding the boy he loves as he bleeds out.

Helpless and useless.

So he screams.

And after all that we’ve been through

There’s so much to look forward to

What was done and what said

Leave it all here in this bed with you

“Thank you,” Chifuyu whispers into the dark bedroom.

Takemichi gives him a confused look. “What for?”

Chifuyu draws patterns into Takemichi’s chest. Tonight is a good night.

“For saving me. I can’t even imagine what I was like in that first future. I probably didn’t have anyone to rely on, y’know. In Toman, I’ve only really been close to you…and well…y’know.” He doesn’t want to say it, lest he break the peaceful spell his mind has cast on him today.

Takemichi tightens his arm around Chifuyu. “Ah, well. You don’t have to thank me. I just did it to get out of my apartment. I’ve been stuck there like every future.”

Chifuyu chuckles, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s torso, and rests his head on his chest. He breathes in Takemichi’s body wash and the scent of lavender from their detergent, counting his heart beats.

He’s still here. He’s still alive.

Cherish him.

“Thank you for saving me, for saving all of us,” he whispers as he turns to look up in his beautiful blue eyes.

There’s a flash of sadness in Takemichi’s eyes, before it’s replaced quickly. He smiles softly, though it seems a bit forced around the edges.

“It’s the best damn thing I’ve ever done,” he whispers before planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

Baby you do it so well

You’ve been so understanding, you’ve been so good

And I’m putting you through more than one ever should

And I’m hating myself cause you don’t want to

Admit that it hurts you

On the days after bad nights, Takemichi makes breakfast. He developed cooking skills at some point in this future, he tells Chifuyu.

But on those mornings, he can badly stomach anything so Takemichi will make him a smoothie and pack a light bento. He makes him fresh green tea that warms him up, and turns on the diffuser mixing eucalyptus and peppermint.

He kisses Chifuyu on the head, never on the lips. He gives him a tight hug and whispers “have a good day”, never I love you. He tries so hard to be a friend, like he knows he isn’t the one Chifuyu loves on those days.

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

Over him

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

‘stead of ghostin’ him

They both have ghosts that haunt them.

Takemichi’s exists on high rise buildings, in truck crashes, and a building in another country with no ceilings.

There are nights that Takemichi wakes up screaming Hina’s name or Mikey’s name or Akkun’s name. There are even days where he screams Chifuyu’s. There are days where the pots will bang together and Takemichi will collapse in fear. Takemichi avoids fires, loud noises, and lives his life as if he’s apologizing for living.

On the rare occasions he’s opened up to Chifuyu about those other futures, they’re usually about the first one, the one before he ever time-leaped. He opens up about how pathetic he was and how he was always apologizing.

And even though he’s a lot more sure than the man-boy in his stories, Chifuyu can’t help but think that old habits die hard.

We’ll get through this, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

But I love you, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

Takemichi takes care of Chifuyu so well, it almost seems like he’s apologizing.

For Baji, for not being Baji, for not being able to time-leap again to save him.

For being here when he feels he shouldn’t be.

He doesn’t ask, but he can suspect that there was a future where things went really bad for him and Takemichi feels responsible.

He doesn’t ask, because Takemichi won’t tell him the truth.

That this relationship is all just one big apology. That Takemichi’s love for him is just one big savior complex. That all of this is out of a sense of responsibility.

#chifuyu matsuno #takemichi hanagaki #angst #Chifuyu x Takemichi #do they have a ship name?#keisuke baji #bajifuyu angst #mentioned #hinata tachibana #manjiro sano #tokyo revengers akkun #i forgot his name #tokyo revengers angst #why do I keep making Takemichi suffer?#so sorry takemichi #Tokyo Revengers #tokrev #Spotify #takefuyu

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little-lemon-lattes · 4 years ago

Text

The Set Up

🌜Zelda Spellman x fem! reader

—— Word count: 2.2k

—— Warnings: none, just a little bit fluffy 🥳

—— Summary: You are left home alone with Zelda one weekend and you’re full of nerves! She has been nothing but an ice queen since you met, and now seems like the perfect opportunity for her to tell you exactly what she thinks of you while everyone else is gone.

It was just the two of you in the house this weekend. Just Zelda, just you.

It shamed you to admit it, but when Hilda had told you that she was going to test the waters in staying the whole weekend with Dr C- followed closely by Ambrose and Sabrina’s revelations that they, too, would be spending the next few nights with their respective partners – it had been hard to contain the strange bubbly feeling that had ignited in your belly. Only you and Zelda in that enormous house, for two whole days and nights?! It would be an understatement to say that it was making you nervous.

Zelda Spellman was a formidable woman, to say the least. It had been close to three months now since Hilda had extended the Spellman hospitality to you, offering you a large and handsome room, along with all the usual luxuries everyone had grown so jealous of the Spellman cousins for. Hilda had never explained why she did it – you expected she had her reasons in there somewhere – but you were now, and in every essence, a part of the Spellman family. And it was no exaggeration to say that from almost the moment you had walked through their colossal front door (nothing but a rucksack in hand), all signs had pointed to Zelda’s utter disapproval of you.

You were desperate to gain even a simple ounce of her obviously hard-won trust. It was important to you that she see the magnitude of exactly how thankful you were for her hospitality at a point your life of Hades-bottom. You delivered blackcurrant-nightshade tea to her study, as she worked in her dressing gown to the late witching hour; astral travelling to the most obscure countries, to collect the newspapers for Zelda’s morning reading; and, on the odd occasion, hexing anybody you heard whispering unsavoury things about her in the hallways of the Academy.

And yet, for what? What had it all earned you?

Nothing but calculating scans and narrowed eyes.

Thus, you thought it seemed only natural to be nervous, alone in the mortuary with her. To be honest, it wouldn’t have totally shocked you if Zelda took the opportunity to finally tell you exactly what she thought of you, away from the ears of the other Spellmans. What the pair of you didn’t know, however, was that this was exactly what these ‘other Spellmans’ had in mind when vacating the house for that weekend.

At first, there had been an awful lot of plain staring coming from Zelda; and this alone had been enough to pique the interest of her sister Hilda. Hilda hadn’t been sure, at the time, if anyone else had noticed much out of the ordinary. But, having been by Zelda’s side for numerous centuries now, it almost immediately struck Hilda as strange the lack of comment supplied from her sister. She had always known Zelda to be a reasonably opinionated, and if she were caught looking for longer than usual at anything, it would be certain it was because she had something to say about it. Hilda supposed it was because her sister was unaware in those times that she even had an audience to provide commentary for. The younger Spellman sister had eventually cooked up a competition in her head of how many times a day she would look up from her little world at the stovetop and catch Zelda watching you. At first, it was all stoically and quizzically, as if analysing exactly what your every move meant; but later changing into something more girlish and slightly wistful, often with her cheek resting in the palm of her hand. Hilda would never dare mention it, of course. She suspected that Zelda wasn’t even aware that she was doing it.

Another such thing that Hilda suspected had emerged from her sister’s subconscious was the large percentage of conversation with Zelda that your name seemed to find its way into. Whether the younger witch was asking her if she wanted her pumpkin roasted, or her thoughts on the newest appointment of Transylvania’s High Priest, talk would always return to how illusive you were.

“ Do you mean to tell me, sister, that you don’t feel it every time she is in this damn house?”

“Erm... feel what, exactly, Zelds?” Hilda had peeped.

“I don’t know what it is, Hilda, you tell me!” she had exclaimed, “ some form of heaven-bent , wicked energy. Like electricity, one might say. Yes. I’m almost certain that y/n is slowly but surely cursing the entire mortuary, because – Hilda – it seems I can’t escape the nauseating feeling in my stomach, no matter what wing of the house we are in!”

Hilda had to draw on all the power of the mortal and immortal realms she could muster in order to keep a fit of laughter at bay. Her sister was definitely the smartest and most impressive witch she knew, but this little bout of oblivion where you were concerned totally provided some much-needed comedy to Hilda’s day. Her certainty at what was going on was only confirmed further, when Sabrina had come to her with interesting reports of a mystery master of hexes striking in the hallways of the academy.

“ - and naturally, I had to do a bit of digging,” Sabrina continued,

“ Naturally,” her aunt had agreed.

“ So I took it upon myself to do a bit of… ‘Q and A’ with the victims, let’s call them. And, once I’d persuaded them to loosen their tongues a little bit, a pattern begin to emerge: they all admitted to having a little word or two about Aunt Zelda. Interesting, huh? But just wait for it, Aunty, here’s the kicker. Guess when the hexing started?”

“Hmmm... I don’t know, my love, when?” Except, she was pretty sure she did know.

“ Three months ago! Right about the time that-“

“- Y/n started teaching at the Academy.” Ambrose finished for her, as he materialised in the kitchen next to Sabrina and their aunt.

“ Forgive my interruption, cousin, Auntie. Coincidentally, I was looking for Sabrina to discuss with her whether Satan had finally removed my frontal cortex, or if I wasn’t the only one who had noticed the abnormal, puppy-like devotion for Aunt Zelda that constantly radiates from y/n?”

“YESSSS!” The women shouted together.

“ Ah good. My cortex lives to see another day.” Ambrose remarked.

“Well, to be fair though,” Hilda started, “I do think it’s partly because the poor dear feels as if she has to move Hell and Earth just to melt away even a teensy bit of that awful ice that Zelda has gone and put up around herself.”

“Yeah, what is with that? I swear I haven’t seen her so closed off, like... EVER. And what did y/n ever do to her?” Sabrina remarked.

“Why, isn’t it obvious, cousin? She’s put a spell on dear Aunt Zee. And not the kind that can be cast, if you take my meaning.”

You had finally arrived home for the evening. Shrugging your midnight-blue coat off and replacing it on the coat rack, you called into the open abyss of the house: “It’s just me, Zelda!”

Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina had all left that morning, meaning it was just you, Zelda, and Uncomfortable Tension left in the house.

There was no answer to your call, and it felt pretty chilly in the house on that midwinter’s evening. Pulling the pins from your French twist, you flicked a lazy hand at the hearth. Orange flames sprung to life where seconds before had been merely dust. You decided that Zelda was probably busy in her study, and wanted to be left alone. You would take a plate of food to her later. So, you began climbing the stairs to your room on the third floor, directly above the Spellman sisters’, unwinding your scarf as you went. Letting it dangle open around your shoulders, you turned the corner of the second floor staircase toward your chambers. Your eyes slid past the sisters’ door out of habit. As you raised your foot to continue your ascent, you stopped. Zelda was sitting on the edge of a meticulously perfect-made bed that you could only assume was hers, staring glassy-eyed into space. The expression on her face made your heart hurt for a moment; it looked as if she were in slight pain. She was gently biting her lip, and the outer corners of her eyes were tilted down. She fiddled nervously with her fingers.

You backed up a few paces, coming to rest outside her door. Crossing your arms, you leant your head against the frame, waiting to see if she would acknowledge you. But, it seemed as if she had no idea that you were even there.

“Zelda...? Is everything alright?” you ask tentatively. Suddenly, her obvious anxiety began to make you anxious. Though you seemed to have broken her from her trance, because at your words, her eyes flickered to your place at the doorframe, and her expression morphed into something a little nauseous. It was evident that something big was on Zelda’s mind. You had crossed the room in seconds to her, and sank into the mattress next to her.

“What is it? What’s wrong? I know you don’t trust me, Zelda, I get that... but just know that you can tell me anything you feel you need.”

The Spellman let out a tiny puff of air, as if she had been holding her breath. There was silence for a minute as you watched her. It was clear that was carefully choosing her words.

“It’s just...” she tried to begin, “I just... I have had something playing across the many facets of my mind lately, y/n, and-“ she sighed, “I have become briefly overwhelmed by exactly how unattainable to me it is.”

You were shocked. Something unattainable to THE Zelda Spellman? Impossible. And you told her as much.

She smiled at you ruefully.

“Unfortunately, y/n, I think this time that you are wrong.”

You frowned.

“Why? Why would I be wrong? Why is this thing so out of your reach?”

Your mind, as keen as ever, was desperate for answers.

Zelda swallowed, and glanced at you. You replied with an inquisitive raise of your eyebrows. She inhaled, expelling everything in her breath out: “Because my prime came and went centuries ago. I’m nothing but an old crone!” She buried her face in her hands.

That was it; that was all it took for your heart to break into a million pieces.

All reservations out the window, you took her hand fiercely and turned your body to completely face her. Your knees were touching hers.

“That is the most utter nonsense, you hear me? You’re easily the most powerful, awe-inspiring, shining witch in any given room, plus the fact that you’re definitely the most stunningly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen! You can-“ Your words were beginning to catch up with your brain, and it seemed that everything you felt for her that you had desperately tried to quash was deciding to make an appearance too, “-you can... do anything you put your mind to.”

The sentence ended on nothing more than a whisper. Shit. Well, that wasn’t exactly the way you would have appreciated being exposed.

You had convinced yourself that Zelda was something of a role model to you and that you were ongoingly gracious for her hospitality- when in truth, she had probably been the least hospitable to you of the family. That explanation had been easy to tell yourself- she was just SO great that you wanted to be her! Not be with her, right? Wrong. The time for a taste of reality had come.

Zelda looked gobsmacked. She frowned a little, as if trying to work something out. After a brief pause, she asked: “Does that mean what I think it does?”

You swallowed.

“What exactly do you think it means?”

The other woman looked a bit meek for a moment. You could tell that her inherently Zelda-ish fear of being wrong was toying with her.

“That maybe... it’s not so out of my reach after all?”

The way her voice raised at the end of the sentence had the astounding effect of transforming her into a scared little girl in a millisecond. Could she BE any more vague, though? She wasn’t addressing your slip of the tongue at all!

Oh hold on.

Unless...?

You chose your next words very carefully.

“That’s precisely what I’m saying.”

It seemed that you had thrown her! She let go of your hand and looked away from you to her feet, all while biting her lip again. She dug her nails into her palm.

When Zelda looked up at you again, she seemed ten times braver than she had moments ago, when she had looked to the ground.

“Would I be overstepping my place if I were to do this,” the High Priestess slid her hand up your thigh, “or this,” she placed her hand on your cheek, “or this?”

She finished by leaning in so close that your foreheads were touching.

By Hecate, she took your breath away. You stilled for a few seconds, just to really see her this close, and to admire every single pore of her being. You could feel Zelda’s laboured breath on your skin, dripping with want.

Finally, you spoke.

“Not at all.”

And it was you who closed the space between the pair of you, smiling against her lips. ✨

#zelda spellman #zelda spellman x reader #caos #Sabrina #lgbt #fanfic #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #chilling adventures of sabrina #miranda otto #caos imagine #wlw #caos fanfiction #your pov

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cuppimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Demon Raian x Nun Reader (NSFW)

BASED ON A REQUEST, that was long overdo. I should probably post shorter things to fill up space in this blog between bigger stuff like this content. But regardless I hope you enjoy

The air got cold, the basement was in total darkness, and you were alone with the thing that was stalking you. The warm breath that brushed against your neck caused you to jump, and hold out your rosary in fright.

“Do you really believe that would work on me?” The voice echoed, in a way where it always sounded inches from your face. Your entire body shook and your breathing got faster.

“You nuns like to believe being in the house of “god” makes you safe,” the voice said. “That nothing unholy could come in...and yet I’m here, here to take my prey...” just behind you, you could feel a warm glow, and without moving your body, turned your head to look at it. Bright red skin, gnarled horns, and claws that looked like they could tear at your flesh like you were slow cooked meat. The sight of this man kept you frozen for fear of what he could do if you moved. But there was a strange sense of curiosity also welling up inside you seeing that the demon was completely bare. No clothing, his muscular body and large cock in full view for you to see.

“You’ve been silent since I’ve been down here...” he grinned, a wicked demonic grin. “How about, you tell me your name, and I tell you mine. So we can start to get to know each other~!”

“M-my name is sister (y/n)...” you mumble.

“Good, good sweetheart,” the demon walked in front of you, staring you down as he licked his lips like you were a fresh meal presented to him.

“You can call me Raian, gorgeous,” he started walking to you, and as he took one step forward, you took a step back. Up until you were pressed to a wall, legs trembling.

“What- what are you here for?” You asked.

“I know what you want,” Raian grinned, resting his hand against the wall while glaring down at you. “I know you’re not devoted to all this bullshit. You’re only here because you had nowhere else to turn. But I could be your ticket out of this boring place, and all I want is one thing.”

“I, don’t think I want to give up my soul to-“ Raian held a finger up, and his wicked grin turned to more of a humored expression as he burst into laughter.

“Oh good god you humans are cute,” he snickered. “No, no, I don’t want that bullshit. I wanna fuck you.” You’d be pissed off at being mocked, but after hearing what he wanted, you were taken aback, but he was right. You weren’t devoted to the church out of any moral obligation. This was your only choice if you didn’t want to live on the streets to fend for yourself.

“Fuck me and I’ll make you mine,” Raian said. “It’s about time I found a cutie like yourself to breed my spawn into. I’ll make you something fantastic if you decide to do this. If not, I'll leave you alone, and simply find another pretty young mortal to give me my spawn.” You squeezed your legs tight together, and bit your lower lip in contemplation. Until, you slowly and meekly nodded. Even though you wanted this, and wanted a life from the church, you were still a virgin, mostly out of not being able to find anybody to lose your virginity to. So part of you was nervous to have sex for the first time, let alone with a demon.

“Good answer,” Raian grinned a wicked grin, and pulled you closer by the robes. He was staring at you, licking his lips in excitement to see what your body looked like underneath. You heard the sounds of your clothes tearing like paper in Raian’s grasp. The cold air hit you so suddenly and combined with the surprise, you let out a small, meek gasp. Raian pushed you down onto a nearby table, and only continued ripping and tearing away at your robes, your hood, your undergarments, until all that was left was scraps lying on the floor.

You felt the innate need to cover yourself up, from the cold and being exposed in front of someone else, so wrapped your arms across your breasts and pressed your legs together.

“Are you freezing?” Raian laughed. “Oh don’t worry baby, that won’t be for long...” you could feel his hands grab your hips, and they were warm, much warmer than a human’s grip, and that made you feel nice...

Raian leaned down, and started to kiss all along your neck and collarbone, each kiss so warm and gentle- at first. You wrapped your arms around him and soaked in the pleasure of his lips on your skin, until you felt a sudden sharp pinch on your shoulder and cried out. When Raian pulled away, a very noticeable bite mark remained there, that had drawn blood.

“Ohh baby you taste so sweet, I just couldn’t resist~!” He chuckled. “I won’t do it again if it hurt too much.”

“A-actually...” you mumbled. “I don’t mind at all, could you keep doing that...?” Those words alone made Raian hard, the thought of peppering your skin in bite marks.

“I knew I was right to pick you!” He immediately started to kiss down your body again, and this time he didn’t hesitate to always leave a mark anywhere he went. The sharp pain mixed with the pleasure of your body being explored was both so new and yet it felt so good that you moaned, but tried your best to muffle those sounds by biting your hand. If you were too loud, especially in the dead of night like this, someone could hear you.

“Fucking hell...” Raian cupped your breasts in his large hands, and brought his mouth down to start licking and sucking on your nipple, all while he began to grind his cock against you, now rock hard and excited to just grab you and fuck the god right out of you. It was real hard trying to keep quiet now. His tongue didn’t feel like a normal tongue as it swirled across your nipple. It was longer, and forked at the very end. It was so odd, so inhuman and yet so so amazing at the same time. Your legs pressed against each other, trying to get some friction, and your moans and whimpers only got louder.

“Ohhh~? Not trying hard to be quiet are we now?” Raian stopped, replacing his tongue with his clawed fingers that pinched at your nipple. “I know what you want...” You stared down at his cock and just nodded in response to him, spreading your legs out for him. Raian saw just how soaking wet you were and he licked his lips, savoring the sight of you. Already oh so eager and willing to get a demon’s cock. He started to climb on the table, his body just hovering over yours as he leaned his head down next to your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you up,” he growled in your ear, all before you felt his cock rubbing against your cunt. All before he started thrusting into you inch by agonizing inch. He felt so much bigger than he looked, and your small moans quickly became louder feeling your body stretch to fit his cock and yet clench around him in complete and utter pleasure.

“Ra-Raian ahh...!” You moan. “Oh- oh you’re so big!!!” You then let out a loud whine as he started moving inside you. Oh...! Oh!!! You covered your mouth at this point, you were getting far too loud, and Raian only started to get rougher.

“Goddd you feel so fuckin good!” He growled. “Go on sweetheart I wanna hear that, i know there’s nobody nearby to hear you get fucked by a demon, I wanna hear you scream or I’ll stop!” He grabbed you by the legs tight, and one hard thrust got you screaming.

“Please...! Please I need it!!” You cried out. “Please Raian!!!” You felt his claws dig into your skin enough to draw blood, and Raian licked his lips in excitement after he heard those words. You were lifted up off the table, and he held you close to him. You looked into his eyes and soon pressed his lips against yours, before you felt him pound you like he was trying to break every bone in your lower half.

You wrapped your arms around Raian, and were moaning and whimpering in the kiss. He was so hungry for this...you felt so good, you were so perfect for him, a perfect little lover for him. Raian held onto you tightly, and as you matched your orgasm with him, he came inside you, filling you up in a way that you’ve never felt prior, while holding you in his embrace.

“Fuck...! Fuck...god baby...” Raian panted. Your legs felt shaky, you were sweaty, but you felt so so good.

“Oh baby...” he grinned. “Now that was fun. Alright, a deal’s a deal. Looks like you’re gonna be the mom of a few demons.”

“I-I’d like that, very much...” you tried to gasp for air, and Raian never let go of you. In fact he placed you down as gently as he could, and where he made you bleed, he licked and kissed those areas oh so gently. You felt close to falling asleep right then and there. God...who knew of all the things to give you comfort, you’d never expect a man, or demon like this.

#cuppimagines #nsft #kure raian #kengan ashura

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years ago

Text

it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.

Titans 3.06

y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!

as always, typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?

... oh, i’ve just started.

1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick.

1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)

i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is.

(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)

2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!

2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.

2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in!

(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)

2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.

3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point.

(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)

3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.

(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)

3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:

a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth.

b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!

c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it?

d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really.

e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.

also:

*pinches his cheeks*

3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it.

i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.

3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!

4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well.

anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable.

when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...

4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!

5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.

5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?

why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?

5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.

5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.

5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.

6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...

(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)

6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.

6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...

7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.

7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY

8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something.

like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia.

8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.

8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)

9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”

honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.

MY MAN CONNER

10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!

a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.

b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole.

c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.

d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan. we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.

e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.

f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room

i need, crave gifs of this scene!

11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!

12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!

(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)

12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING

13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3

13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1

13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.

14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.

15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.

15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!

16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?

whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.

17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?

17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change.

18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?

18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents.

there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.

but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it.

18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.

19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #koriand'r #barbara gordon #garfield logan #conner kent #komand'r #jason todd #jonathan crane #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart #a tragic jalebi #this is a 3k+ MONSTER yikes

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retroknightx · 4 years ago

Text

hypmic headcanons

since nobody on my instagram appreciates me, i’m going to put them here, and it’ll be like a master post i can add onto that way anyway (which is convenient for me, because i keep adding on… yeah, it’s bad lmao. my notes document can only take so much) all of it will be under the line so you guys don’t just have a big ass post clogging your feed! to whoever my 4 followers are

starting with fling posse…

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Ramuda Amemura

He’s trans.

He has a superiority complex to hide his inferiority complex.

He also likely has a little bot of a god complex… Just a tiny bit… Not to the point it’d endanger his life, but to the point he can never admit he’s wrong (I suppose this can also count as the superiority complex).

He also has a little bit of a schoolboy crush on Dice… that has lasted far longer than he’d ever like to admit – not that he’d ever admit it in the first place – and he gets jealous over Dice.

He started his whole thing with girls, whatever it is, as a power trip, which also explains why he likes to cause so much chaos.

Since he used to smoke, he started candy as a way to stop smoking and it slowly replaced his smoking habit (as I have yet to see him smoke otherwise, but keep in mind I’m not far into the manga and mostly I’m going off the ARB story).

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Gentaro Yumeno

All writers are perfectionists (I’d know as one).

He’s probably very particular about the details and doesn’t like doing things without a plan.

He’s the lyric write for Fling Posse’s raps and does not enjoy making up lyrics on the spot; however he can if he must – This is also why he carries the book everywhere.

I honest to god don’t feel like he’s of this world and whatever his actual form is (irony in his rap name?), it scared Ramuda enough to create Fling Posse, so here they are.

---

now for the dice ones… it’s gonna be long!

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Dice Arisugawa

He is, unfortunately, very oblivious to romantic approaches – especially from close friends such as his division members, for he’s been with them for so long that he can never imagine them falling in love with him.

He has abandonment issues/a fear of abandonment because his mother left him.

Speaking of his mother, Dice likely knows how to do “noble” things because he was raised by a politician; i.e. how to play piano and stuff like that.

Adding on top of that, I feel like Dice has an accumulation of many different skills from being all over the place – He learned how to do card tricks by watching others, and he probably learned bird calls from spending time with Rio.

He undoubtedly has ADHD (as a person with ADHD myself, you cannot tell me I am wrong)!

He’s well aware that’s he a leech, but he can’t stop himself because the addiction is stronger and he feels terrible about it; it’s why he often begs instead of anything else that would fit his character more.

He’s a very talkative person and often rambles to get his thoughts organized.

He doesn’t like being put into awkward situations or forced into silence because he is used the buzz of a casino and a busy city.

Relating to the ADHD canon, Dice puts his life on line not only for the thrill of it, but to keep his mind off of thoughts, and it’s also why he gambles; so he can focus on one thing.

He is numb to change because he’s a gambler.

He is very good at adapting to a new environment.

He doesn’t like being looked down up and that’s why he started gambling; to prove that he’s worth something.

He uses humor to cope if he can’t get his mind off of things with the thrill of gambling.

---

Extras (Fling Posse all together)

Dice has weird limbs, so clothing fits him weird, and Ramuda started making clothes for them because of that.

Ramuda chased after Dice after he stole his signature parka and the Fling Posse star was embroidered on later by Ramuda after the formation of Fling Posse.

Ramuda likely pulls whatever strings he has access to to make life easier for his division members (not that it stops them from getting into trouble, that is).

Gentaro spends a lot of time away when writing and likely forgets he’s even alive during those periods, so his division members make sure he’s still taking care of himself when he gets like that.

They all piss each other off, but in a platonic love kind of way.

---

moving onto matenrou! my favorite division <3

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Jakurai Jingui

Oh, my poor man’s so tired. He just needs a long break and a spa day; speaking of this, he likely doesn’t ask for help often – it’s the messiah complex he undoubtedly has.

His hair is too long for him to be taking care of it himself, and it definitely looks in fantastic condition, so he definitely takes good care of it – I just don’t think he takes care of it himself; I think he enlists the help of his division members (as I headcanon that Matenrou is in a poly relationship).

Jakurai’s matureness can sometimes get in the way of other things, such as emotional moments, and he can come off as cold or distant when he doesn’t mean to come off that way.

Unlike the other divisions, Jakurai wanted to really separate from his past, and that’s why he named his division Matenrou instead of reusing something from the past. He also probably doesn’t like talking about the past.

His hair is naturally silver, but the lighter shades that are nearly white underneath was caused by stress.

He gets cold quickly, which is why he always keeps the lab coat on, and it’s also why he wears a turtleneck.

Jakurai does live in the same apartment as Doppo and Hifumi, but he’s always so busy that he often can’t get there, so he ends up sleeping at the hospital; he also has a separate apartment of his own that’s closer to the hospital if he has free time, but he’s not off work/off work but still on call.

---

Doppo Kannonzaka

Man, the first thing I thought when I saw him was that he has a choking kink. Enough said. He also likely has a praise kink.

If he didn’t have social anxiety and wasn’t so busy, he’d also probably be going over to Rio’s camp a lot. I think it’s because he’s so overworked that he doesn’t care about what’s in the food; as long as he gets it.

He’s probably passed out from exhaustion more than once and just got used to it.

Despite all his problems, he definitely wants to be known and he wants his name out there; he wants to be just like the other two and he definitely looks up to them already, but he aspires to be them.

He is so thankful for his divison members and he’s glad that they accepted him.

---

Hifumi Izanami

Hifumi is a classic case of “fake it till you make it”; I really don’t know how he became one of the most popular hosts in Shinjuku, but it’s definitely about the fake confidence and the jacket is a comfort object for him that allows him to have that confidence.

He cooks all the time for his division members and he uses the catches from fish all the time, too. He even brings the lunches to their works for them.

---

Extras

Since Hifumi’s always out so late, the others make sure he has everything he needs for whenever he wakes up and sometimes they wait for him.

They’re all in a poly relationship and I refuse to believe anything else; I mean, have you seen those “my room” dialouge in ARB? Fruity.

They probably all love to cuddle whenever they get the chance because they can’t do it often.

They definitely set up one day of the month for all of them to just be together.

---

buster bros time!

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Ichiro Yamada

This may just be the Ichiro simp in me, but I think he has a very nice tummy that’d be nice to lay on; like a soft one if that makes any sense to anybody other than me.

He’s a very friendly person and if you’re close friends with him, he’s definitely loyal; he’d be willing to drop anything to help you kind of loyal, like he is to his brothers – all that, except the willing to die part.

I think he gets flustered easily and doesn’t know how to respond to compliments. That’s also probably the Ichiro simp in me.

Although he has to stop his brothers from ripping out each other’s throats all the time, he’s very proud of them and of their achievements, no matter what they are. He’s willing to praise them even for the tiniest things to make up for his absence in their lives.

He probably has a terrible sleeping schedule, but he could probably operate on pretty much anything. Two hours of sleep? That’s not an issue for him; he’s used to it.

He’s likely a cheapskate when it comes to himself, but when it comes to his brothers, he spares no expense if he can.

---

Saburo Yamada

He has a superiority complex. I mean, just look at how he acts with Jiro – that’s enough proof right there.

He got into hacking and all of that computer stuff because it was interesting to him; he’s probably pursuing a career in it, considering just how good he is at it. I feel like he’d make a good white hat hacker that tests your website security, like Alma in Va-11 Hall-A.

Call him a library, because he holds grudges for years.

I think he just likes picking arguments because he think it’s funny and there’s nothing better to do when you’re stuck with your brothers (as somebody with a sibling myself, I can attest to that).

---

Jiro Yamada

Anger issues. Yep, that’s it. That’s the headcanon.

Man probably goes dumpster diving to see what kind of treasures he can find; his room is probably full of that kind of junk.

He probably has greasy hair. It doesn’t matter how much he cleans it, it’s just greasy (as somebody with the same issue, go clean your pillows Jiro).

---

Extras

Ichiro has to hold Jiro back from just punching Saburo all the time.

God, somebody save Ichiro from his siblings; with how much they bicker, he probably has taken so much ibuprofen to stop headaches in his life that he should be considered dead from an overdose.

Despite being assholes to each other, they all help each other out – Saburo helps Jiro with his work, Jiro helps Saburo with whatever he can’t do, and Ichiro takes care of the rest. It’s the only thing keeping their bond together.

---

mad trigger crew, my beloved.

---

Rio Mason Busujima

Rio’s very stoic and that often doesn’t break, so it’s very rare to see a smile on his face. He has different smiles for different things too – there’s the business one; one so he doesn’t look as intimidating, and the actual genuine smile that’s very rare to see, but it happens when somebody appreciates his food.

Rio’s not good at understanding emotions and it takes him awhile to process emotions; he goes quiet in these moments and it can be confusing for those who don’t know him, but once he’s thought everything out, he’s very smart about responding.

He’ll never fully adjust to a life outside of the navy and military.

Opposite to Dice, he finds the buzz of a city to be too distracting for his thoughts and he enjoys his solitude, but he doesn’t mind company at all.

Due to how his unit was broken up, he refuses to abide by H law and keeps his gun on him. Even Rio can be spiteful. However, he mostly uses it for hunting, which is why he’s so far out in the forest.

He definitely has a lot of scars and that’s why he often wears his fatigues; he doesn’t wana come off as off-putting. His cards without the jacket did him so dirty. Of course he’d have scars from fighting in World War 3.

He can come up with strategies on the spot and is a very quick-thinker when it comes to combat.

Despite how ruthless he is when it comes to rap battles and being an ex-navy, he’s actually a very gentle soul.

I feel like he’s asexual, but homoromantic.

---

Samatoki Aohitsugi

He only uses the bad guy persona as a way to be left alone, but he’s actually a very kind person.

Despite being a yakuza, he actually abides to the H law and it’s probably only because of Nemu (however, this is only based off of the anime, so I can’t say for certain, but I haven’t seen anything in the manga disproving otherwise yet).

I just feel like he eats a lot throughout the day. I can’t explain this one, but he has the vibes.

He also knows how to cook quite well himself, and he does it for his division members sometimes.

---

Jyuto Iruma

He’s very cocky because he knows he can get away with things; I mean, he’s the authorties, why wouldn’t he get cocky about what he can do? However, it’s somewhat annoying to Samatoki.

If he wasn’t a gay bastard, Samtoki and Rio probably would’ve been arrested long ago. Thankfully for them, he is a gay bastard.

He likes looking good no matter what; it helps his confidence, so he dresses up to go out anywhere.

His glasses are probably just reading glasses.

He likes spending money on expensive things.

---

Extras

Samatoki and Jyuto are in a relationship. They’re so fruity that I’m sure I don’t have to explain this one.

Samatoki doesn’t approve of Rio dating Dice at all and it’s only because of Jyuto that Dice is still alive.

Rio is pretty much their marriage counselor; he has to constantly deal with them bickering, so of course he is. He’s pretty much the adopted child to save their marriage.

---

Ships

Riodice

Samajyu

Poly Matenrou

---

i will likely make a separate post for the ship headcanons because this will be much longer, but i think this covers all of them anyway, so here you go. enjoy.

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mahesiyah · 3 years ago

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A quick and simple headcanon on Ami Mizuno/Sailor Mercury

(CW: anxiety, panic attacks)

I've expressed in an earlier headcanon that Ami becomes a robotic engineer instead of a medical doctor, but she does end up studying to get her PhD in robotics engineering. (So yeah, Ami becomes a doctor, just not a medical doctor.)

She initially tries to earn her doctoral degree in a measly three years (and Google research tells me that six to eight years is the average time it takes). But Ami doesn't want to continue to be in school when she's in her thirties. Not because of money or anything, since her wealthy mother is supporting her financially. In her mind, the sooner she graduates, the better she'll appear to others. Even if it takes a toll on her health.

And in my headcanon, it sure does take a toll on Ami's health. Poor Ami's enrolled in 20 credits per semester, plus she's also working a job at an engineering company (and her company is paying for her to get her PhD). And let's not forget that Ami still has her Sailor Senshi duties. So she really doesn't have time to get enough sleep. Or get any exercise. Or go outside for some sunshine and fresh air. Or eat anything that's not ready-made sandwiches from the convenience store.

This is truly a dark moment in Ami's life, because the water senshi even forgets to take a break from studying to get up from her desk and grab a glass of water when she's thirsty. She doesn't fail to go for the energy drinks, though.

After nearly a year of averaging four hours of sleep a night and 2.5 energy drinks a day, Ami woke up one morning with severe panic attacks. She had never experienced anything quite like this before. She felt like she was dying.

Ami checks herself into the emergency room and is seen by none other than her mother, Dr. Saeko Mizuno. She chides Ami for ending up in this situation in the first place.

"I thought I raised you better than this," Dr. Mizuno sighed. "Don't you know that energy drinks aren't a replacement for sleep?"

"I know that, Mom," Ami responded. "I'm just incredibly busy. I'm working and studying for my PhD. You know, so I can have a doctorate degree like you do."

"It's not a competition, Ami," Dr. Mizuno replied.

"Most people don't get their PhDs until they're in their 30s. In fact, I was 32 when I got my doctorate degree. Nobody's going to think any less of you for taking the time you need to graduate at a reasonable pace."

Tears started to well up in Ami's eyes. "Really?"

"Of course! Everyone in Tokyo, maybe even the country, knows how smart you are! You don't have to prove anything to me or anybody else. I love you and I want all the best things for you in life, Ami. And that includes staying healthy!"

"Yeah, you're right," Ami said softly as a tear gently ran down her cheek.

"Of course I'm right," Dr. Mizuno jokingly boasted. "Now promise me you'll take better care of yourself? I never want to see you as one of my patients ever again."

"Yes, Mom," Ami happily complied.

From that moment on, Ami was committed to taking better care of her health. She stopped drinking energy drinks entirely and switched to low-caffeine white tea. By signing up for less classes each semester, she made time for adequate sleep and easy, calming exercises like yoga/stretching, walking/hiking, biking, etc. She also made a point to go swim at the local indoor pool once a month. She also offers to pay Makoto to make her some healthy home-cooked meals a couple of times a week.

Thanks for reading! I hope all of you have a happy and healthy 2022! 🎆

#sailor moon #bishoujo senshi sailor moon #sailor mercury #ami mizuno #mizuno ami #sailor moon headcanons #sailor mercury headcanon #headcanon #fan thoughts #grad school #phd struggles #happy new year #stay healthy

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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The Palace Gardens ~ MYG [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 5K

↬↬↬Genre: Fluffy

↬↬↬Pairing: Prince!Yoongi X Reader

↬↬↬A/n: I hope this okay for you love! @cutegyrl927

The sun was shining down on the palace Roses beautifully so you took your sketchpad out that morning and made your way through the maze in the main garden to sketch some of the flowers. It was Sunday meaning it was your day off from working and you could do whatever you wanted within the palace quarters and you were doing something legal. You had been working in the palace since you were 4 years old and your mum took you to work with her you even continued after she passed away. It was the only good paying job in the Kingdom and it had many benefits to working there, a roof over your head, meals, health care and being able to stay there safe instead of out in the Kingdom where you could be killed by thugs any moment.

The King and Queen were some of the meanest people you'd come into contact with and you didn't even want to think about their son - Prince Yoongi - one of the most big-headed people you'd ever met. He thought he was better than everybody he came into contact with which was only partially true. Sure he was a Prince and he was better than you but he thought he was better than everybody including his parents, other people from other Kingdoms. Not to mention he thought he was God's gift to women and thought that everyone should love him and if they didn't they were clearly wrong and would show them how wrong they were.

"Y/n! Just the person," You looked up from the sketch of the rose you were doing to see the court Lady standing there, she was out of breath and holding her stomach as she tried to steady her breathing.

"Mina quit," You stared at her wondering why she was telling you that but then it came to you, you were Mina's replacement if anything happened to her which wouldn't be a big deal only...Mina was the head servant for Yoongi and his room. She was in charge of him and him alone, making sure he was up in time for appointments, drawing him baths, cleaning his room, serving his food...Everything.

"No." You said snapping the sketchbook closed, there go your Sundays. The chambermaid that was to serve Yoongi was to always be ready for him, day or night. No matter the time you were to serve whatever the Prince may need.

"You have to, you took that job-"

"Thinking she would never quit, she was one of the toughest you have." The court lady shrugged her shoulders at you, she didn't care if you didn't like the job it was now your job. If you didn't like it you would have to quit and become homeless and jobless all in one.

"Think of it this way, you get an upgrade." You stared at the side of her face as you made your way out of the maze together. The job upgrade was a new room and a new uniform. Going from the Hanboks all the maids wore to a goddess-like gown that the chambermaids were. It was a simple white gown with the colour of whoever you were serving sewn into the front, for the King and Queen the chambermaids had gold sewn into the mid-section of the dress and for Yoongi you would have black sewn around the mid-section.

"I'm sure you're aware of the duties you have to him." She mumbled as you both walked up the steps into the palace, greeting the guards with a bow and heading up the stone flooring towards your new chambers. It was just opposite Yoongi's in case he needed something in the middle of the night and had to wake you up.

"Yes Ma'am," She nodded and unlocked the door, your room was cleaned and fresh dresses were hung up in the wardrobe behind a changing screen. It wasn't huge but it was better than the room you had before.

"I'll have one of the girls bring your things up later." You nodded, all you had back in the other room was some more drawing equipment - not that you would need it anymore. No more time to yourself, goodbye relaxing Sundays and hello bossy Prince Yoongi.

"He's in training with the palace Guard so you have some time to drawer his bath and clean his room."

His room was a state, clothes were thrown around the floor. The silk bed sheets were on the floor and he had pieces of paper and paints all over the place. You never knew he painted but he was good from what you'd seen in his room so far, there was a recent one drying by the window, it was the palace gardens are night. Stars chartered perfectly on the black sky and it looked amazing not that you would ever tell Yoongi that - you couldn't even if you wanted to. Chambermaids were to be seen and not heard. You groaned bending down and picking up his dirty clothes, you threw them into the basket by the bedroom door and started there. It was easier to start with the clothes than to make the bed and then the clothes. He had fresh sheets to go on anyway. Humming to one of the palace songs you began cleaning up the bedroom, being careful not to put anything out of place. You didn't want Yoongi to fire you on your first day there.

The bath was run to the perfect temperature along with the expensive bubbles you knew the Prince liked - he'd had them imported from another part of the Kingdom especially for his baths.

"The new maid?" You turned to see him standing there in the door, drenched in sweat from his training and wearing his metal armour, you bowed to him and went to leave but he cleared his throat to signal you to stop.

"I want to take a look at you." You stood up straight and kept your eyes trained to the floor, he hated eye contact. You'd heard the stories from chambermaids before you and you were going to do everything you could to not get fired.

"What's your name Kitten?" Your stomach flipped at the nickname and he tilted your head up by your chin so he could look at you, he smiled as you locked eyes for a second only to glance away when you'd stared at him too long. He was going to have a lot of fun with you if you were this timid to be around him.

"Y/n." You answered keeping your gaze back on the floor and he hummed shaking his head,

"I'll call you Kitten, it just rolls off the tongue better." You nodded knowing better than to talk back to him and besides...The nickname was kind of cute and made you feel a kind of way you'd never felt before.

"I'll have dinner in two hours please, I won't be eating in the grand hall and I want you to join me. Might as well get to know you since we're going to be stuck together for a while." You nodded and backed out of the room to go and tell the kitchen workers what was happening. You were confused by what he meant by stuck together for a while he would normally fire anybody within a matter of weeks if they didn't quit first. Mina had been the only one to stick around longer than the usual girls.

"He's asking you to eat with him?!" Jisoo asked she was one of the main chefs in the Palace Kitchen. She'd asked to be his chambermaid before you but was turned down since she was needed more in the kitchens than his room,

"I didn't do anything wrong. I did the right thing and he just asked-"

"Probably going to ask you to sleep with him, he's nothing but a man whore." She scoffed at you turning her back on you and going back to cooking the dinner you were going to be eating later. You made a mental note to check the food before you took it to Yoongi if she was going to be this mad over practically nothing.

"What did you do before you joined the castle?" Your eyes widened as Yoongi asked you a question that wasn't about him, you'd heard stories of him being nothing but selfish and yet here he was asking you about your life, you cleared your throat and poured him his wine to go with his food.

"Nothing, I've been working here since I could walk." He stared at you and frowned as he rose the cup to his lips taking a drink. He'd never seen you around the palace before and he was sure he would have remembered seeing your face around there before.

"You're sure?" You giggled a little,

"Since I was four, my mother brought me in. I worked in the gardens when I was 10 and then I made my way to the chambermaid." He nodded along as you spoke, you didn't mention anything else. No personal history or what you did with your free time and yet he found himself interested in wanting to know you more. There was something that drew you into him.

"What else do you do?"

"Freetime?" You questioned, you hadn't touched your food. You weren't allowed to eat until he did and you were starving. You hadn't eaten since the night before and you didn't want to break the rules so you ignored the hunger in your stomach,

"I draw sometimes, mostly in the palace gardens." He put his cup down and began eating the food that had been made for him,

"I paint. I'm sure you saw when you were clearing up earlier. Thank you for that by the way." A frown formed on your head and he could tell you were confused and it was just how he wanted it. Everyone outside of the room thought he was the evil Prince that hated everyone but it was far from the truth. He would tell the maids to tell each other that, he didn't want to be seen as soft and it annoyed his parents to see so many maids fear him.

"No problem Sir, it's my duties." He chuckled, he loved how innocent you were with him.

"You'll have to show me your sketches sometime since you've seen my work." You nodded and he went back to questioning you on other things.

"Why do you want to know so much? Not that I'm trying to disrespect you, it's just you mentioned we'd be stuck together for a while and I'm wondering-"

"I'm not allowed to fire any more maids, I have to make you comfortable and want to stay here. So we're going to be stuck, I figured instead of making it worse for both of us to make it easier...Besides, I'm not as mean as I make out." He went on to explain what he had done with the other maids, an exchange was made. He would let them stay for as long as it took him to get the money together for them to leave and go and live somewhere else as long as they didn't tell anyone and made out that he was the worst person in the world.

"Why would you do that?" You asked it was amusing to know that he wasn't as mean and self-centred as originally thought. He shrugged his shoulders at you, he'd never had a real reason except for annoying his parents,

"Annoys my mum and dad and besides, being Prince isn't everything it's cracked out to be." You hummed and he went on to explain that he didn't want to train all the time or go to royal meals. He wanted to paint and find someone to love,

"You'll find someone-"

"Someone my parents approve of, someone they set me up with. I want true love, you know?" You shook your head at him, being totally open with him was easy. It felt like you'd been friends with him for years rather than him being a Prince.

"I've never been in love, I've lived my whole life in this palace." You motioned around to the room and he sighed leaning back in his chair and shaking his head.

"Where do you want to go?" You stared at him with a raised eyebrow,

"I don't know anywhere but here. Where do you want to go?" You could tell he had an itch to travel somewhere far and wide and he smiled at you jumping up and going over to a bookshelf. He pulled down a leather bond book and brought it over to you. He turned the pages until he hit one, France was written across the top and it was filled with photographs.

"Whoa." He chuckled at you as you stared at them beautiful far off places with many things to see or do there.

"I wanted to travel everywhere, take someone with me but it'll never happen while I'm stuck here." You nodded along with him and watched as the smile dropped from his face, he handed you the book and watched as you flicked through the pages. Your eyes lightening up whenever you saw something you particularly liked, it made his heart flutter seeing you so excited about something.

"You should rest kitten, I want to go to the gardens tomorrow and I want you to come with me. I'll need some help carrying my painting equipment. You should bring your sketch pad." You nodded at him going to give him the book back but he shook his head,

"Keep it." You placed it onto the table and began to pack everything up, the half-eaten food was still on your plates but you were full and couldn't eat another bite if you tried.

"Goodnight Yoongi." You placed the book on top of an empty cup to stop yourself from spilling something onto it or dropping it on the floor it was far too expensive for that.

"Look! Little Y/n got a present!" Minho cooed as you walked into the kitchen, he was one of the other chefs within the Palace and hated you just like Jisoo did.

"It's nothing!" You said as you tried to get the book from his hands but he held it up high so you couldn't reach it, he flicked through the pages and scoffed.

"As if you could ever go to these places!" He threw the book to Jihop who started to flick through the pages while you stormed towards her,

"Where did you even get this?! You couldn't even afford a trip to town." She squealed and just as you reached her to get the book back she dropped it into the sink filled with water and faked a gasped.

"Whoops. Oh no." They both laughed leaving the kitchen while you took the book from the water staring at the soggy pages, it was useless now. You had to find a way to dry it out before Yoongi ever found out that it was damaged. You rushed back to your room to try and find a way to dry out the pages but it was long gone. Nothing could save it from returning back to his original shape now it had taken a soak in the water.

A couple of weeks had passed and you'd managed to keep the book from Yoongi, coming up with excuses as to why you hadn't given it back - excuses like you were still reading it, you'd forgotten to bring it and that you wanted to re-read all of it again. You'd grown closer to the Prince, spending a lot of your time in his room with him while he painted, he requested you stay there and draw while he painted. Claiming it made him calmer to have you sit there while he did so but he would never show you anything he'd been working on. Whenever you couldn't draw you'd switch to reading something from his collection of books, switching between classic love stories he had and horrors that were among them all. That day you'd been reading Wuthering Heights and he'd insisted you take it with you, you hadn't been able to put it down since opening it but you told him you couldn't. It would be too much for you to take it and you could just read it tomorrow when you came to clean up for him.

"It's a date." He laughed looking at your shocked expression as you walked to the door he was serious about it being a date but you thought he was joking.

"See you tomorrow your Highness," Your hand touched the door handle and he shook his head at you, placing his hand over yours and turning you to face it.

"I mean it. It's a date. No more, your highness or Sir...Call me Yoongi." You stared at him with a blank expression, you'd grown close and sure you got butterflies whenever he would touch you or speak to you and your heart would skip a beat when he called you by your real name.

"You're not allowed to date the help-"

"Who says?" He questioned, he was a little hurt that you weren't jumping up at the chance to date him but he understood that it wasn't that simple.

"The palace rules...Your parents," He smirked leaning down to your face, you were inches away from one another. Your heart thumping against your chest as he stood that close to you.

"When have I ever done what my parents wanted me too." With that he moved closer and pressed his lips against yours, at first you stood there frozen but your eyes fluttered shut and although you'd never kissed anyone before your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer to you. The kiss was sweet and loving as he wrapped his arm around your waist while the other cupped your cheek, running his thumb along your skin as he pulled away.

"See you tomorrow."

Shutting the door behind you you smiled to yourself until you saw Minho watching you from down the hall, Jisoo and more palace maids by his side all of them watching you.

"You're a tramp." He said as he walked closer to you, you tried to rush into your room but you'd gotten into the habit of locking it after one of them had placed a mouse in your room one night.

"Leave me alone Minho, I've done nothing wrong." You rushed to get the keys from your pocket but you were moving to fast you dropped them onto the floor, Jihoo was with him staring down at you as you picked up the key from the floor. She pressed her foot down onto your fingers and glared at you.

"That job was supposed to be mine, I'm going to make your life hell right until you quit." You whimpered trying to get your fingers out from under her foot but she only applied more pressure.

"What are you doing?" Minho and Jihoo jumped away from you and you held back the tears as you held your hand in your other one trying to pick up the key and get out of sight before you could hear them being yelled at.

"She stole something from your room, we were making sure she'd returned it." Jihoo lied, you looked at Yoongi who locked eyes with you before turning to Jihoo.

"What did she steal?"

"A book, I saw it too your highness," Minho added and you looked at the floor as you realised they meant the travel book.

"I'll take it back, Y/n. Let me into your chambers to see this stolen book." Minho and Jihoo walked away laughing to one another as they did so, the hard facade that Yoongi had put on faded as he walked into your room.

"You okay?" He went to take your hand in his but you walked away from him going to get the book back for him,

"Here. They ruined it when I got it and I've been trying to fix it since." He stared at the book before throwing it onto your bed, he didn't care about that. He cared about you being okay but you were being calm and weird around him.

"My hand is fine Sir. You should go to bed, you have training tomorrow." You reminded him and he frowned shaking his head as you used Sir for him when you'd spoken about that before.

"I told you I want you to call me Yoongi," His hand was on your cheek and you let the tears roll down your face as he came into contact with you.

"What's wrong?!" He panicked as you dropped down onto your knees in front of him, he sat beside you and brought you into his chest wanting to hold you and comfort you in any way that he could but as you tried to speak it came out as a sob.

"We can't date." You stuttered out pushing away from him and pointing over at the door,

"That's all I'll get. Abuse from them and many others if anyone found out. I should quit-"

"No, you shouldn't." You shook your head at him, you knew you should have quit. It would be easier than falling in love with someone that could never love you back.

"We can't- I can't." You told him as you stood up from the floor brushing off your legs. You'd already found yourself falling for him the moment you'd walked into his room that first night and when he kissed you everything fell into place but it wasn't supposed to be like that. You were supposed to be the maid, nothing but a maid.

"Why? Give me one reason why." You stared at him,

"You can never love me, look at me-"

"I do. Everyday," He took your hand and dragged you across the hall to his room, he walked you into his wardrobe and pointed at all of the paintings that were lit up by candlelight.

"Yoongi what-" Each canvas as a painting of you, sitting and reading in a couple of them and a few were of you sketching in his chair in his room.

"This is what I see every day, someone I've been in love with for a while, someone who I want to spend my life with." You turned to him looking into his eyes to search for any hint of a lie but there was nothing, it was all true and he needed you to see it.

"I love you." He mumbled taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his lips so he could place a small kiss on it,

"I love you too." You whispered scared what all of this meant for your future at the castle but right now that wasn't important, what was important was Yoongi and you spending time together. He kissed you lovingly once again and pulled you closer to his body as you made out in the middle of his wardrobe.

It wasn't easy news for the Kingdom to digest when Yoongi announced your engagements and it hadn't gone down well with his parents either but Yoongi insisted that he was going to marry you. You'd managed to hide your relationship for six months when he decided that there was no one else out there for him, it was you and you alone for him and you felt the same way. No one could ever replace Yoongi in your heart. The announcement was made and you were being moved into a bigger room within the Palace since you were going to be Royalty once the wedding went ahead. The maids hadn't taken to it greatly since Yoongi then requested for a male maid for his room, someone new that hadn't worked there before and someone who could be trusted not to poison you. Though you'd taken to making your own food or going to get something from the markets instead of eating something that Jihoo or Minho had prepared.

"What is it that you can give to our son to make you worthy?" You choked back on the drink of water you'd gotten and Yoongi ran his hand over your thigh trying to comfort you, you knew it was going to be a tough meal since it was with his parents, grandparents and another king and queen from another Kingdom. The Kingdom who was originally supposed to set up a date between Yoongi and their Princess. Princess Sana, she was perfect in every way possible from her red curled locks to her perfectly slim shapes. She was gorgeous.

"Princess Sana could have brought in land and royal guards...What do you bring?" His mother asked sipping on her wine and staring at you, they'd made it clear that they disliked you from the start and you told Yoongi you didn't want to do this tonight.

"She brings him, love, she brings him happiness what more could you want for your son?" His grandfather yelled slamming his walking stick against the floor and staring at his daughter, he turned to look at you and Yoongi sitting together.

"She seems to forget that her husband was nothing but a royal Guard when they were children-"

"Still of royalty, he wasn't a maid!" That was stung as she spoke about you as though you were nothing, you'd gotten it before now from her but this time it was in front of people. People who could have made Yoongi's life better for him,

"She's right Yoongi," You whispered and he squeezed your hand,

"No. She's not." You were both so quiet no one had noticed the conversation happening between you both.

"I can't bring you anything, money, land, I can't-"

"You bring me joy and love, that's enough for me." You shook your head tears welling up in your eyes as you felt Princess Sana staring you down from across the table.

"Excuse me." You got up and left the room at once, not wanting to stay there any longer than you had to. It was too much, all of them speaking down to you as though you were nothing but something that had stepped in, it made your heartache as you thought about leaving Yoongi and letting him marry for the land and everything Sana could give him but it was what was best. It was clear no one was going to allow this wedding to continue.

"Y/n?" You wiped your face of the tears as you heard a female voice calling out for you, you stood up and bowed to Sana as she came into the middle of the maze where you'd run off to.

"Yoongi said you'd be here." She laughed softly, even her laugh was perfect just like the rest of her.

"You don't have to bow to me," You sat back down on the concrete bench and stared at the roses in front of you, she sat down next to you in silence. Neither of you spoke for a couple of minutes until she broke the silence,

"You're doing me a huge favour by the way. My parents would never admit it but Marrying Yoongi would have made me miserable," You turned to look at her,

"Not that he's not great. He is it's just...I'm in love with one of our royal guards and now that Yoongi is spoken for. I can marry for love instead of power." You smiled at her and she rubbing your hands comfortingly.

"You shouldn't let them tear you down, they're doing it to get a rise out of you. To make you leave him. If you love him make sure you stay." You stared at her as she spoke to you, giving you real advice and helping you realise that you and Yoongi were meant to be together.

"I should go and see him, he's probably being harassed by his mum." You both stood up from the bench and walked out of the maze together, engaging in conversation about the royal guard she was in love with back home and how he'd won her heart.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked as you stood in front of the arch in the palace gardens,

"Aren't you asking this a little too late?" You questioned with a small laugh as you stared up at him, he was holding your hand as you waited for everyone behind you to sit down.

"Not if you're not sure." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, you were standing in front of a priest and getting ready to marry him in front of everyone despite the fact that his parents didn't want this. He made it clear he was going to marry you with or without their blessing he didn't care that they disapproved because he was hopelessly in love with you and was going to be that way for the rest of his life.

"I've never been so sure about something in my life." You whispered to him right as the vicar began to speak out to everyone and you and Yoongi. You locked eyes with one another and the ceremony began, making you his wife and the future queen.

"If anyone has a reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace." Everyone stayed silent as you and Yoongi stood together - his grandparents made it clear to their daughter and son in law that Yoongi was to marry whoever he wanted and that he had their blessing and didn't need anyone else. Now here getting married in your favourite place with your favourite person in the entire world with the blessing of his grandparents as well as his blessing since he'd told you that was all that mattered to him.

A/N: I hope you liked it hun and it was something like you imagined xx

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lynnthevirgo @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @btsiguess-kpop @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie

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cry-stars · 4 years ago

Note

May I suggest an AU where Don Paolo finds the Golden Apple first and adopts Flora instead of Layton? :)

Absolutely!! Thank you so much for asking! This turned out to be... pretty long, actually, almost 2000 words :'D I'm going to post it here under a cut, but I also put it in Puzzles Left Unsolved if you'd rather read it on Ao3. Thank you again for the request; it was a great chance for me to write for Don Paolo for the first time!

...

“Welcome to the Future.”

Dr. Allen smiles broadly, throwing open the clock shop’s door with careless abandon. Flora can’t hold back a gasp at the sight before her. Yes, the scenery in front of her is Midland Road, but it’s unmistakably changed: worn down, and dirty with ten years’ worth of grime. The bus stop is gone, and tall poles mounted with loudspeakers tower above the ground.

Could they really have travelled through time? It seems impossible, but then again, the evidence seems too solid to brush aside. Flora’s still reeling from the trip through the “time machine.” Between the rocky ride down here, and the changed London that she sees before her now, she’s almost convinced that she truly is in the future.

Hesitantly, she looks toward Paul, hoping that she can take a cue from his reaction to what Dr. Allen referred to as “The Future.” Her mentor looks almost as dumbfounded as she does. Then, he seems to notice her gaze. He clears his throat, calming his expression, and turns toward Dr. Allen. “For ‘Future London,” it’s not all that futuristic, is it? Where are the jetpacks and the robots?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m so sorry that the future isn’t completely what you’d hoped it would be.” Dr. Allen shrugs nonchalantly. “Now. If you’re done gawking, then we can begin discussing business. Follow me.”

As they follow Dr. Allen through the streets, Flora casts a questioning glance up towards Paul. “What do you think about this?” she whispers.

“Feh. It’s all a trick. Although I’ll admit it’s a good one.” Paul waves his hands dismissively, then brings his arm to his mouth, stifling a theatrical cough. “As bad as the air quality is in ‘present’ London, it’s nowhere near this horrendous. Coupled with the yellow sky, either the Apocalypse happened within the last ten years, or we’re underground.”

Flora’s half-disappointed, but half-not. An underground city, particularly one that so closely mirrors an existing city, is almost as fascinating as a future one—and, as Paul had said before, now that she thinks of it, she’s a little disappointed at the lack of futuristic technology. “So there’s still a chance for the jetpacks, then,” she says thoughtfully.

Paul chuckles. “If you get started on inventing them tomorrow, then there’s a slim chance that they’ll be around in ten years.”

“You could invent them too, you know,” Flora says mildly.

“Let’s stay focused on the present, my friends,” Dr. Allen says lightly. “Right this way.” Turning the corner, they enter a large tunnel, and Flora stares up in awe at the sloped roof above them, the beautiful stone-tiled road, and the pretty shops lining the walls.

“A pretty little arcade, isn’t it?” Dr. Allen says proudly, leading them toward a restaurant built into the wall of the arcade. “It’s a pity that it has no counterpart in the present. I hope this restaurant is to your liking. My partner is very fond of the place, although I don’t entirely trust his judgement.”

“You’re paying, right?” snorts Paul as the group steps through the door.

Dr. Allen raises an eyebrow. “Of course; you’re my guests. Paul, you wound me.”

“My name is Don Paolo, Allen.”

It’s strange to hear Paul reacting adversely to being called… well, Paul; Flora’s grown so used to calling him that over the last several months. Yes, he wanted to be called “Don Paolo” at first, but after the first ten times she’d called him so, he’d grunted that it was “too formal, and that she should call him “Paul” instead. Flora’s secretly glad of that; the name had always struck her as funny, but she’d hate to offend him by giggling by mistake.

Dr. Allen shrugs, and the three of them take a seat at the table, the cook coming to take their order. “Just coffee for me,” he says nonchalantly, “but give these two whatever they like. I’ll be paying.”

Paul gets a coffee as well—a smart move, Flora thinks; he wants to seem like an equal match to Dr. Allen. Flora would do the same, but upon further consideration, she just gets water; she’s not sure that she could handle anything more right now, with the amount of butterflies in her stomach. Her nerves are frayed, and being seated here, in the Future, in front of the man that summoned them here, is only exacerbating her anxiety.

“I supposed I was careless, Paul,” Dr. Allen finally says, as the coffee arrives at the table. Once again, he raises an eyebrow, glancing in Flora’s direction. “I never thought to tell you to come alone, simply because I never thought there’d be anyone who wanted to come with you.”

Flora blinks. What a rude thing to say! But now that she thinks about it, Paul really doesn’t seem to have any friends, except for her. He doesn’t often leave their flat, except when they both go to the lab to work on their engineering projects. Occasionally he’ll go off on his own, but he never talks about seeing anybody else.

Of course, there is his archnemesis, Hershel Layton, but they certainly aren’t friends, not with how Layton hurt Paul in the past! Paul never talks about what that man did, but Flora doesn’t want to force him to tell her, as curious as she is. Whatever it might be, it must’ve been traumatic, and she wouldn’t want to make him remember anything painful. But other than Layton, Flora can’t think about anybody else that Paul even knows.

Well, there is that framed picture of that pretty lady with glasses on his work desk, but Flora doesn’t even know her name, let alone if she and Paul are friends.

“If you want to know who she is, you can just ask,” Paul scowls.

“I’m his apprentice,” Flora chimes in eagerly. “I’m studying engineering, and disguises, and robotics, and… and lots of things.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Dr. Allen chuckles. “I never thought you had it in you, Paul. I knew you were good with disguises, but masquerading as a mentor is a new one for you.”

“As far as you know.” Paul shrugs. “It’s not as if we were ever best friends or anything. There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.”

“True, true.” Dr. Allen leans forward, resting his chin on his hands. “But at least there was one thing that we had in common. And that’s what I’d like to talk about today.”

A shadow crosses Paul’s face. Is that… sadness in his eyes? “I’m not really in the mood to reminisce, Dimitri.”

“Maybe not. But perhaps you’re in the mood to help me make those precious memories reality once again?” There’s a feverish light in Dimitri’s eyes, despite his serene expression. “What if I told you that my time machine—”

A time machine?

Flora’s mind starts racing. A real time machine? Could it really exist? How does it work? What—

“That’s what killed her, Allen.” Paul’s harsh voice cuts through Flora’s daydream. “You’re delusional if you think that it’ll actually work, or that I’ll waste my time helping you.”

“I don’t think I’m delusional,” Dimitri says calmly, but Flora can see pain in his face. “But even if I am, at least I’ve got a plan. What are you going to do if you don’t help me? Continue living in your delusion of thinking Layton cares one iota about being your ‘archnemesis?’” He stands slowly. “I’m giving you a chance to help bring her back. It’s up to you if you’ll take it. I’ll give you five minutes to think it over.”

Before either of them can say anything, Dimitri exits the room.

Flora avoids looking at Paul, staring into her water glass. She feels like it isn’t her place to say anything, as curious as she is; she should wait for—

“I suppose you want to know what in the world is going on.” Paul grunts, crossing his arms, and stares into one of the paintings adorning the wall.

“If you want to tell me,” Flora says hesitantly. “I mean, it’s not really my business, is it?”

“Well, you are my apprentice, so it’s at least partly your business. Especially since you’ll be helping me make my final decision.” Paul sighs. “You’ve seen that picture on my desk, right?”

Flora blinks. “That pretty lady?”

A small smile colours Paul’s face. “Yes. She was… well, she was a friend. Well, she… she died almost ten years ago.”

Flora bites her lip. So that’s why he takes such good care of that picture. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Paul shrugs. “It was a long time ago,” he says dismissively, but Flora can hear the sadness behind the words. “She worked with him,” he says, gesturing dismissively toward the door, “building a time machine, and she died because it malfunctioned, exploding and killing her and nine other people. I… Well, I blamed him for a while, even though it wasn’t only his fault. I felt like, since he was lucky enough to work with her, he should’ve been there to save her. My only satisfaction was that he blamed himself too.” He chuckles wryly. “You probably think I’m awful now, don’t you?”

“N-no, not at all!” Flora hurries to assure him. “I… I understand why you reacted that way.” It’s all too easy to search for a scapegoat when there’s nobody else to blame. She remembers how much she hated and feared Dahlia for replacing Mama, when Dahlia really did nothing wrong… but it’s too late to mend that. She pushes the thought to the back of her mind. “But there’s a chance to bring her back, then isn’t there? If he’s got the time machine working, now.”

Paul snorts. “No way that he’ll ever actually get it to work. Not after it failed so spectacularly last time.”

Flora shouldn’t feel so disappointed at his words, but she does. She wants to find out more about this time machine. Before today, she’d hardly even thought of the concept, but now that she knows it’s something that could plausibly exist, she wants to find out more. But Paul so easily dismissed the idea. Maybe he’s right about that; after all, it did fail ten years ago. But that doesn’t mean it will fail today.

(What if she could bring her parents back?)

(What if she can bring Paul’s friend back to life?)

“Shouldn’t we give him a chance?” she asks tentatively. “Maybe he can tell us exactly how he plans to do it, and then we can make a more informed decision.”

“The only thing he’ll inform us with is more of his delusions.” But Paul looks at her curiously. “You’re really excited by this time machine thing, aren’t you?”

Is it really that obvious? Flora flushes, staring into her drinking glass once again. “Maybe a little bit. I just… I just think that if there’s a chance that it works, then we should consider all our options.”

She waits in silence for Paul’s reply. Finally, he sighs, chuckling. “Why is it always so hard to say no to you?” He stands, heading towards the door to let Dimitri back in. “Fine, fine. We’ll listen to him ramble for a few more minutes, and find out what he wants from us, and then we can decide what we’ll do.”

Flora smiles after him. “Thanks for listening to reason, Paul,” she says jokingly.

Paul grins back at her. “Don’t mention it.”

#professor layton #don paolo #flora reinhold #dimitri allen #layton AUs #my fanfiction #this is the first thing I've completed in more than a month so I'm kind of rusty haha...#but I'm really glad i managed to complete something finally

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