#Greetings Adventurer! Do you know about The One Character You May Not Fuck

[nostalgia-tblr]

okay sorry to be a judgey bitch about literally everything (she lied) but i am halfway through the night manager and the plot of this episode seems to be that Blond Loki is being kept on an island for no obvious reason (possibly as a living sex doll?) and he wanders it meeting people who just instantly start explaining part of the plot to him. like this woman:

This is literally the first conversation I remember these characters having and this is the first topic she goes for. WTF. And I don't know what happens after this but if they AREN'T all playing a weird mindgame where they're all feeding him lies I will be disappointed as this is like watching someone play one of those video games where you have to go up to every NPC and ask them for a sidequest and/or plot info. There's a scene where a literal child starts expositing about secret rooms in the house and the magical items he'd need to find to access them to get to the portal to Hyrule.

I don't understand this, it is very odd. But this is the pattern so far, and sometimes the other characters are expositing because they want to fuck him (see above re: sex doll theory) but I don't think that's officially the plot. Is Hugh Laurie keeping him as a pet?

I do think maybe the Evil Gay Guy (so far the most entertaining character and therefore the best one) might be messing with him, otherwise it is hard to explain why you would approach a man, tell him not to fuck one specific woman, and then go back to the shop where you sell potions to plucky adventurers. I mean why would you do that unless you were trying to get him to fuck that one specific woman?

One of the amusing mini-games in this RPG is called "Who Is He Going To Fuck Next?"

(This is a different woman. She is not specific and so I assume she is on the 'fuckable' list.)

After I took that screenshot she asked why Hugh Laurie was keeping him on the island of fuckable NPC quest-givers. Blond Loki said he doesn't know. I don't know either. But it's okay, she has more information about the plot to share with him.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asks. IT'S HER JOB, BLOND LOKI, DON'T MAKE HER QUESTION HER ROLE IN THIS GAME >:( SHE WILL BECOME SENTIENT LIKE IN THAT EPISODE OF STAR TREK.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Gray Woman 3

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You meet a man who tests your patience. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: To those who didn’t help me resist this beast, I blame you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Just the wine, thanks,” you tap your card on the edge of the lane counter mindlessly. The cashier rings through your single bottle and sends it down the next conveyor. You tap and the machine chirps. “Have a good day.” 

You take your receipt as the woman on the other side of the counter greets her next customer. You do your best to make yourself as little as a nuisance as you can when you switch roles. It saves everyone a whole lot of trouble. 

You go to grab your wine but it’s plucked up beyond your grasp. You keep your arm outstretched before you recoil it, staring at the stranger as he reads the label. You swallow and take a breath. You don’t have a window between you or a security button on a desk. It’s different when you’re out in the world. More dangerous, less orderly. 

“Excuse me, may I have my wine?” You ask flatly. 

The man clucks and tilts his head to look at you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek and smirks, turning to face you completely. He keeps the wine in his hand. His bristly mustache slants in amusement. 

“Let’s try again. ‘Mr. Hansen, may I have my wine?’” He outlines the words with a flutter of fingers. 

You squint and shake your head. “Do I know you?” 

His lips part as he stammers, “uh, yeah? You—from the bank—Jesus. Doesn’t matter.” 

You nod warily and reach for the bottle. You wrap your hand around the narrow neck but he refuses to let go. Instead, he steps back, drawing you with him as the next customer comes down the lane. You cling to your middle shelf purchase. 

“I know you fucking remember me. You’re just trying to piss me off because Ronnie isn’t here to lay down the law. Trust me, I can do it myself, sweat pea.” 

He glares down at you. He sure has a lot of anger. You’re not entirely sure what you did to him. Working with peoples’ money is not easy, for either party. It’s such a sensitive subject as it is. Still, you don’t remember doing anything so egregious as to earn the spite creasing between his brows. 

“Alright,” you pull on the bottle again. “I just... I can’t remember. Honest.” 

He grips the bottle even tight. His large hand easily clings to the full belly. You sigh and let go. 

“Fine, it’s cheap wine anyway,” you shrug. You’re growing uneasy with this man. Not only is he aggressive but he’s much bigger than you. 

You let go and spin, striding away as you shake of your disappointment and the trickle of nerves. As the automatic door slides open at your approach, you hear a pursuit. You’re not sure if it’s him but you refuse to look back. You only speed up. 

“Hey, I don’t want your fucking wine,” he catches up to you as you come outside. 

You don’t stop. You step off the curb and keep your head straight. You deal with the erratic passengers on the subway, you can handle some stuck-up jerk made about a bank fee. 

“Would you stop? Hey, I’m trying to have a conversation here,” he huffs. You keep going. “Hey!” He grabs your arm and reels you back to face him, standing just behind a parked car. “Do I need to show my ID to have a fucking chat?” 

You blink at him and scour your mind. Mustache, demanding, intolerable. You think you remember now. He’s the one who refuse to show his ID. You glance back at the grocery marquee and your lips thin. As a black card holder, you don’t expect him to be shopping at a bargain grocery. 

“Can I help you?” You face him. 

His cheek twitches, “relax, darling, we’re not at the fucking bank.” 

You consider him, eyes darting as you search for some sense in all of this, “uh huh. So...” 

“Do you just not turn it off or are you really a bitch?” He sneers. 

You shrug, “guess I'm a bitch.” 

You look at his hand on your arm and yank away. You once more turn to strut off and he snorts. Once more, he has your wrist but you try to ignore him. Try to snatch it free as you refuse to turn back. He’s too strong. 

For as long as you’ve had the canister in your purse, you don’t relish using it. You wonder if it’s expired. You reach into your open purse, dangling by your hip and turn. Before can speak, you raise the nozzle at him and press down. The coyote spray scours his eyes and he recoils. 

The bottle of wine smashes at his feet and the staggers, stomping as he wipes his eyes desperately. He whines and wheezes, coughing through the cloud of spray. You back up to keep free of it. You allow a single second to mourn the pinot then scurry away. His anguished moans fade away as you dip around another car. 

You head down to the subway and wait on the ramp, looking back and forth over your shoulders. You’re certain he didn’t follow you, that he couldn’t see enough to do so, but still, you’re addled. The city isn’t the place to take chances. 

All you wanted was a drink or too. You planned on nursing that bottle over a few nights. The bank’s been so hectic, just the thought of getting up to go back has been keeping you awake. Well, a few chapters of your latest read will put you to sleep. 

You board and find a seat near the doors. You make yourself as small as you can as you hug your purse. You’re agitated. You can smell the spray on your fingers. What an asshole. He didn’t just waste your wine, he ruined your night. 

[greatwyrmgold]

Another "The Problem of Susan" post

As you may know:

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was not a standalone book. There were seven books in the series, each with more Christian allegory than the last.

(Or maybe it's not allegory? Apparently C.S. Lewis has said that Aslan is literally Jesus, so maybe it's all literally just Christianity.)

The series stars the four Pevensie siblings who show up in most of the books—Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. They're absent from The Silver Chair and The Magician's Nephew, but all appear together in the other five books, with one exception.

The last book, called The Last Battle, features Peter, Edmund, and Lucy, but not Susan. Not only does Susan not appear, she's mentioned exactly once:

"Sir," said Tirian, when he had greeted all these. "If I have read the chronicles aright, there should be another. Has not your Majesty two sisters? Where is Queen Susan?" "My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia." "Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says 'What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'" "Oh Susan!" said Jill, "she's interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up." "Grown-up, indeed," said the Lady Polly. "I wish she would grow up. She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can." "Well, don't let's talk about that now," said Peter. "Look! Here are lovely fruit trees. Let us taste them."

(Oh yeah, the kids were kinds and queens of Narnia for a few decades when they were kids. Don't think about it too much.)

The Problem of Susan gets even worse because right at the end of the book, Aslan reveals that the Pevensies, their parents, and other Earth-humans who went to Narnia (like the Eustace and Polly mentioned above) died right before coming to Narnia this last time. And now that the Book of Revelations is done, they will live forever in "the true Narnia," which is either an allegory for Revelation's New Jerusalem or literally heaven, I'm not sure which.

Susan is still not there.

So, the first part of the Problem of Susan is that a formerly major character—one that many young fans of the series felt attached to—who gets all but dropped from the finale. This is particularly egregious, since—this is a direct quote— "Everyone you had ever heard of (if you knew the history of those countries) seemed to be there" by the end. Every character from the entire series, from Mr. Tumnus the faun to that cab driver who became the first King of Narnia, it makes sense in context.

But not Susan.

And I guess that makes sense in context, too; she's not dead. But C.S. Lewis wrote the context. It was C.S. Lewis's decision to kill off the other Pevensies, and C.S. Lewis's decision to keep Susan out of this last adventure.

Christian Apologetics, for Kids!

I've seen three common responses to The Problem of Susan from overly-protective fans of the series.

The first is, perhaps unsurprisingly, just a remix of shit fundamentalist Christians say about Heaven and Hell. Just as agnostics will burn in the fires of hell for their ambiguous faith, so Susan will be barred from "the true Narnia" for being less allegorically(?) pious than her siblings.

Speaking as an ex-Christian, I could write a whole series of posts about why that's fucked-up and wrong. But I will instead remain on topic and recommend you read basically any atheist blog from the early '10s; that eternal damnation/salvation shit is low-hanging fruit for guys who want to make fun of fundies.

Second, you have people who see Susan as materialistic, caring so much about "nylons and lipstick and invitations." First off, nothing in the text suggests she was maliciously materialistic, or greedy, or anything else that would merit getting kicked out of Narnia. Second, the text just...does not support this reading. Susan's sin isn't greed, it's growing up too fast.

Third are the people who agree with the text; Susan "always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up." This has textual support, and not just from the one page in The Last Battle that mentions her. The problem is, of course, that this isn't a sin worthy of punishment either.

(Zeroth: Susan spent decades as a queen of Narnia, but since because the books want us to think that that wouldn't have any real impact on the kids, we will continue not thinking about it too much.)

With that out of the way: Wanting to be older than you are is fine, wanting to be younger than you are is fine, wanting to be the age you are is great. There is nothing inherently wrong with either wanting to be treated as a grown-up or seeking the joy of youth. It can lead to bad behavior, but none of that is described in the actual text of The Last Battle.

Susan is described as misremembering the fantastical adventures the Pevensies had as children, and wanting to be a young adult for as long as possible. Who. Cares.

It seems like C.S. Lewis puts an unreasonably high premium on the innocence of childhood. (This has what I consider to be unfortunate implications when combined with his advocacy of blind faith in The Silver Chair, but that's a topic for another ramble.) This is, I feel, ridiculous. It's fine to seek the joy of youth, but to treat losing that joy as some kind of mortal sin is absurd! Treating the loss of innocence as an inevitable tragedy is one thing; treating it as something worth punishing a kid for if they stumble into it too quickly is horrific.

(And it's really hard to not think about that time Susan was a literal monarch. Well, there were four of them, so I guess she was more of a tetrarch? Whatever.)

Anyways. The fourth response is to point to things C.S. Lewis said after publishing The Last Battle. And I'm going to discuss that.

Contrite-over-Susan Lewis

Unfortunately, I can't find the actual quotes by C.S. Lewis, not in the time I'm willing to spend researching a Tumblr post about a book that was old when my parents were young. But C.S. Lewis has acknowledged the problem of Susan.

The gist of what he said is that he's not happy that Susan's story is incomplete, but writing her redemption arc would put the story into a whole different genre, and that's no good.

My first problem is, of course, the idea that Susan needed to change to be worthy of Narnia. So what if she was always the most skeptical Pevensie? So what if she wanted to grow up? So what if she likes nylons and lipstick and invitations? If the Susan we see in the other books isn't worthy of the true Narnia, that's Lewis's problem, not Susan's.

The second is that C.S. Lewis never wrote that book. Lewis would say that it's out of step with the rest of the series, that the tone would be off, but so is The Last Battle to anyone not drowning in Armageddon-lust. And it's not like character arcs are foreign to the series, either. There are plenty of examples of kids from our Earth going to Narnia and having it change their worldview or attitude. They're mostly small subplots, but elevating a Susan character arc to a booklong undercurrent would not be that much of a divergence.

And even if Lewis committed himself to only writing seven books for numerological reasons—well, first off, he probably could have cut one of the other books. A Horse and his Boy is neat, but depicting the lives of ordinary Narnians during a dramatic time probably should have taken a back seat to a character arc you think is required for her to join the finale. Anyways, he could have written the Susan character arc as a subplot in Prince Caspian or Voyage of the Dawn Treader if he tried.

But he didn't try.

Conclusion

C.S. Lewis supposedly said that Susan was his favorite character, the one he saw the most of himself in. If true, that is not reflected in The Last Battle.

Lewis set some arbitrary conditions Susan would have to meet to join her siblings at the end—at the climax of the entire series, arguably the most important event in Narnian history since the world's creation. He then chose not to write anything that would let Susan meet those conditions, left her out of the last book, and left it ambiguous as to whether she'd ever see her siblings in paradise.

I don't think this would be quite so egregious if Susan was at least mentioned more. Again, Susan is never mentioned before Tirian asks where she is, nor after Peter decides to taste some fruit. She gets three and a half paragraphs where her brother and "friends" bitch about her, and that's that. They make fun of her for growing up and liking nylons and lipstick, then they decide to eat fruit, end of chapter, end of Susan.

It's like the characters don't give a shit about Susan. They're not angry, they're not disappointed, they're not confused. They state a few things about Susan when directly asked, then move on, like these are just facts about some fictional character and not the reasons they're estranged from a sibling or longtime friend. Heck, the younger Pevensies don't even bother to speak up! They don't care!

And if the characters don't care about the formerly important character—important both to the story and, more importantly, to them—why should I think the author did?

[lily-alphonse]

what if... shane and mr. qi

Bro what 😭 I know absolutely nothing about Mr. Qi. BUT I have like 2 or 3 more asks with him in it so it looks like Im gonna have to build a characterization for him real quick lol. I love him though. Love a weird little cryptid man and the fanart is so good.

What interest would he have in Shane I wonder? Maybe it's an AU where Shane is the one to take over the farm and everything so he's secretly special. OR... Mr. Qi just enjoys watching a dumpsterfire. There's no TLC in Stardew Valley so what better reality TV content than to watch the town drunk? Maybe even make things a little worse for him sometimes just for funsies.

You know how in the Sims, if you have an unlucky Sim they can cheat death because Grim either pities or is amused by their shenanigans? That's the dynamic I think. Shane is so unlucky that Qi finds him endearing over time.

Qi would start to leave notes for him, trying to send him on adventures or test him. Shane would have none of it, crumbling the weird notes and suspecting someone was playing some kind of prank on him. Qi gets annoyed about it. Enough to even reveal himself, but he picks (what may or may not be) the best time because Shane is so drunk he doesn't even care.

Mr. Qi almost blends into the darkness by the dock, except his cape shimmers with moonlight and catches Shane's eye. He approaches him when he's discovered.

"Shane," he says in greeting.

It makes Shane wonder if he knows him. Then he wonders if he should be worried about this random shady character approaching him. But he also looks kinda silly, a wide hat and sunglasses obscuring his face, and the most obvious answer is that he’s finally snapped.

Shane narrows his eyes at him, trying to decide what to name this odd figment of his imagination. "Mr..." he starts, and Mr. Qi is almost ready to be impressed until Shane settles on "Hat."

Qi isn't sure whether to laugh or disappear in a rage.

A sort of scoff comes out instead and he sits next to him on the dock. 

"Where did you come from?" Shane asks.

"I come from everywhere." 

"Figures," Shane mumbles into his beer can. He downs another drink. "You're not gonna be some kind of like... conscious that talks in riddles or something are you?"

It feels appropriate, almost making them equals, for Shane to see him as an imaginary friend. It makes up for the way Qi had started to see him as a pet. 

"Not a conscious, though I might speak in riddles occasionally."

“Dammit. Tracks I guess. Can never make sense of any of the shit up here,” he mumbles, gesturing to his head.

Qi had been planning to ask him about the notes, maybe even scare him a little. But here he was being handed the golden opportunity to see into Shane’s mind, and that was even better.

Actually, being an unknown, an enigma, had always been the goal. Short of that,he was forced to keep a carefully curated reputation of mystery, which was not at all the same. Meeting in this way turned out to be a blessing.

“Why do you think you’ve summoned me here?”

“I'm drunk.”

“I can see that.”

“I dunno, I'm pathetically lonely," he says with an exasperated sigh, "Obviously.”

Qi feels a twinge of something unnameable at that, though it's still pretty amusing. He likes the blunt way Shane speaks, especially when he puts himself down, its pure dark-comedy gold. It feels different when directed at him personally though. Like some long-dormant human urge within him makes his heart ache to match Shane’s.

“Are you?” he asks simply.

"D'you have eyes under there?" Shane slurs, looking at him more closely.

"Would you have made me without eyes?"

"Good point. The fuck are we talking about? Who are you?"

"Mr. Hat, apparently."

"Right."

Anyway, they continue to meet like this, with Mr. Qi as his supposed imaginary friend, and Mr. Qi begins to genuinely enjoy the connection they have because no one has ever treated him like this. Everyone he meets is intimidated by him, afraid of him, or looking to screw him over. And beyond that, when he was younger and more human, it was always people wanting to know him. Always so many questions.

His goal was always to be unknown.

He gets that with Shane, under the pretext that he does not exist. It’s freeing, and paradoxically allows him to open up. Any perceived oddity about him only gets turned into a reflection on the darkness in Shane’s mind. In this way, Shane might know him in a deeper sense than anyone else has in a long time. Plus, Qi doesn’t laugh this much with anyone else.  

Shane wants to be unknown too, in his own way. But he starts to hate himself a little less, after these late night talks to ‘himself’. Weirdly he starts drinking less and the hallucination stays. 

I think there would be quite a dramatic falling out when he finds out the truth, but in a way, Shane would also be relieved that this was a real person he could potentially be with.

This ask is a part of the (now closed) SDV Rarepair Challenge! Check out the other answers here, and make sure to boost your favorite so it can appear in the final fic poll! More info on that here.

[beesmygod]

JJBA PART 5, VENTO AUREO IS THE UNDERBAKED MESS I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT FIXING...PART 2

FIX 1: MORE KOICHI FOR THE MASSES

koichi! we love koichi, don't we folks? i know i do.

who's koichi? oh shit, that might be hard to explain.

pictured: koichi, in his dormant, yet most powerful, form.

if you DON'T recognize this little gremlin above, his appeal might be totally lost on you, and his appeal is necessary to understand if i'm going to convince you of what a fucking missed opportunity his narrative purpose could have been.

that's koichi hirose, the short king of morioh. i didnt think i would like him at all after realizing he was being set up as the deuteragonist and companion to the titular jojo of part 4, josuke. like, who the fuck was this little dork? get outta here! im here to see the joestars kidnap children and have homoerotic adventures. i am not here to be subjected to the trials and tribulations of a friendless, spineless, standless dipshit. i assumed he was going to be the designated joestar hypeman for the chapter, a role usually carved out for precocious children.

wrong! koichi gets hit with the stand arrow (the arrow the gives you stands, remember this) early on and gets dragged into a frightening battle of good versus evil right in his own backyard. the arrow and the responsibility that comes with it acts as the main catalyst for his transformation from nottie to hottie. in contrast to the bastardly joestars and their ilk, koichi is a genuinely kind, empathetic, and honest person; he's intended as a foil to the mischievous josuke. he brings to the table the platonic ideal of an every-man who rises gallantly to the challenges thrown at him because its the right thing to do. the series folds koichi as a main cast member to the point where he is one of the very few people on planet earth to draw a smile and praise out of jotaro kujo.

who's jotaro kujo? uhhh.

hmm. i'm getting to my point. but it might require a chart:

POINT: jotaro kujo, the man who probably has with the strongest stand in universe, who appears in 4 chapters out of a total of 9, and who is probably one of the most recognizable and beloved characters in manga history, trusts literally one person on the entire planet: koichi hirose.

SO:

when koichi shows up in part 5 right from the jump to act as the part 4 connective tissue, there is absolutely no reason why he can't stick around for longer than he does canonically so that he can satisfyingly fulfill his role as official vibe checker. let him be important!

---

oh my god, i can hear jojo fans groaning as they scroll through all that shit. so what?! did you make me read all that just to say "there should have been more koichi?!"

look, i need to make sure "we're" all on the same page and understand the perspective i'm coming from. "we", in this case, being the audience of both jojo fans this is primarily aimed at and fandom rubberneckers (greetings friends) who shouldn't have to comb a wiki exhaustively to decode my unhinged ramblings. it's essential background info that koichi is a fan favorite both in canon and in fandom. we gotta understand the role he wound up playing in the overarching struggle of good versus evil in his hometown to understand his narrative role in part 5.

YES. there SHOULD have been more koichi! but not just because we like to see him! he provides an established, trusted moral backbone for the audience. his reputation as a reliable guy is such that jotaro sends him on his own to investigate a young man who may be related to the dreaded bisexual nemesis of the joestar bloodline, dio brando. this is a big fucking deal. if dio has a kid that's really bad. how many backup plans did this guy have (answer: dude you have no idea).

---

ugh! part 5 koichi! if you really want to scream look up how he looks in the rohan spin off series.

in ep 1 of the "golden wind", koichi arrives in italy looking for our new jojo, giorno giovanna (who sucks, but that's a whole kettle of fish we can only barely touch on now). koichi, who has the street sense of one of those dogs that gets carried around in a luxury purse, instantly gets robbed by petty street criminal giorno in a rare burst of personality never seen again after this initial story-line.

okay whatever. after skipping a few eps, giorno and koichi team up to defeat the first stand together after drawing its ire during giorno's weird mafia test. the stand, black sabbath, stabs its victims with a stand arrow (the arrow that gives stands), causing them to either die or gain powers. this might be controversial, but its my personal opinion that its probably not good for a mafia to have a factory that creates jerks with super powers and its right to try to shut that down. after the fight, giorno reveals his dream to koichi of joining the mafia with the explicit purpose of reforming it from within. koichi promises not to report to jotaro about the fact that there's ANOTHER STAND ARROW until after giorno is initiated into the gang. god. jesus christ.

first of all, this GANG-STAR thing is the silliest shit anyone has ever heard. this is literally his for real goal throughout the entire story-line. which could have been great! but people within the fiction should react to this like hes telling them he's going to invent the first bicycle for fish instead of looking at him with the kind of wonder and glory you reserve for jesus christ himself. this train of thought leads to too many thoughts about giorno's lack of personality, so let's set it aside for now. i think giorno should maintain this insane goal, but he should actively have to convince people that he is capable of doing something that fucking nuts.

second, no way would koichi agrees to this absolutely braindead truce lol. koichi doesn't know giorno from adam; the sense we're supposed to get is that koichi innately senses that he's a good guy from his little speech and we, the audience, are supposed to take his word for it. but there is nothing convincing or authentic in how the situation plays out. there's a level of naivety/stupidity applied to the characters involved for this situation to work at all: i dont know why telling jotaro in florida that there's a stand arrow in italy would impact giorno's mafia standing at all. especially considering the arrow breaks and no longer functions shortly after giorno's initiation. koichi should find giorno's dreams and desires spurious and continue his investigation for jotaro, both to impress him and because its the right thing to do. he should also be like "heh, i took care of a stand arrow for you mister kujo". let him have another win. fuck it. why not.

third, koichi doesn't know that the stand arrow is destroyed and i have a hard time believing that he, a victim of said arrow, would do anything other than raise serious alarms over the proliferation of objectively evil stand users in italy where dio's son coincidentally happens to live. the following arc in which giorno and his new team mates go on a hunt for a hidden treasure should have been a series of demonstrations to koichi that italy was being cleaned up by a joestar (as opposed to the danger of being exploited by a brando) and was ultimately in good hands. this would require giorno to get some wins in during this time so he would actually have to do something for a change.

keeping koichi around long past where he does in canon could and should have given giorno a chance to demonstrate a different form of heroism to contrast the pure-hearted pursuit of justice championed by koichi. in eventually winning over a familiar and trustworthy character, giorno would have proved himself to be more than just "dio's son", a fact which should have hung over this part like a dark cloud.

but that's. that's next time.

[gaming-of-the-shrew]

F's Weekly Roundup, vol. 1

LIGHTNING ROUND - EARLY-MID JANUARY 2025

Warmest greetings, everyone. Welcome to the first (and hopefully not last) post on 'The Gaming of the Shrew'.

I've often felt a creeping paranoia surrounding the topic of forgetting which specific games I've played, movies I've watched, books I've read; you know how it is. I've had a goodreads account for a while, but that hardly covers everything!

So, for 2025 (and hereafter?) I've decided to make a log of such things where I'll be documenting my brief thoughts once per week! If I have anything more in-depth to say about a given piece, that'll be a separate post of its own.

Let's begin!

GAMES

Purrgatory (2021)

SCORE: 6/10

Completed in: Roughly 4.5 hours.

Purrgatory is a fun one to start with, given its heavy themes of existentialism. It's a point & click adventure set in a monotone afterlife and featuring a cast of colourful characters. My favourite is Elijah, a purple armadillo poet who's overly critical of his own prose (I know the feeling).

But that's not exactly why we're here; that'd be because buddy, this game is exceedingly gay. Most if not all of the cast are gay, trans, or some combination of the two. We love this, of course, but it links slightly into my main critique of the game: not to mince words, every character talks like an online gay person circa 2018. We're talking crytyping, 'fuck dude he sure does', the whole nine yards. This isn't a cardinal sin (hehe) or anything, but it dates the game just a little and detracts from each character's unique voice.

However, with that being said, it's a game with a great deal of heart and compassion. Sean the pink snake's story brought me to tears with its deeply human, matter-of-fact depiction of how it feels to miss the little things about a person you've loved and lost.

At $0.00, it's hard to go wrong here. Check it out!

Felvidek (2024)

SCORE: 8/10

Completed in: 4 hours

Felvidek is a game I'd been meaning to play since it came out in early 2024, but only got around to recently. I was initially drawn by its unique presentation and the fact it's an RPGMaker game (my favourite) but make no mistake, there's much more to see here.

You play as Pavol, an alcoholic knight whose wife has left him. Life is shit, perhaps even moreso than life generally tended to be in 15th century Slovakia, but fear not! Laughter is the best medicine, especially if there's ought to do otherwise but cry.

Yes, Felvidek is a black comedy, but not in the style you may be used to. It's less 'non-stop comically dour misery' and more 'frying pan to the face' in its blackness. You'll meet comical characters, jolly drunks, demons of all shapes and sizes, and somewhere in between all of these you'll have an icy bucket of existential terror, grief, trauma or depression dumped on your head without warning. It's quite exquisite, and does a great job of portraying the manner in which these concerns often manifest in real life: suddenly, and without due warning.

There's a lot to love here I haven't mentioned, not least of which being the soundtrack, so if you like historical fiction or black comedy, you'll likely get a lot out of Felvidek.

killer7 (2005, Windows release 2018)

SCORE: 8/10

Completed in: 14 hours

So this is a party I'm immensely late to. After having played No More Heroes and its sequel for the first time last year, I wanted to try more of Suda51's offerings.

killer7 is in an interesting position as far as critique and review goes; it's a game which is inimitably unique, but one which has enough of a dedicated following that just about everything there is to say about it already has been. Regardless...

Narrative-wise, the game follows the eponymous killer7 (aka the Smith Syndicate), a group of elite assassins tasked by various shadowy organisations, government and otherwise, to eliminate key political targets. In my mind, the best part of this is that we get to see the broader geopolitical scope of our actions. Often, this view is a cynical one. The annihilation of an entire country is presented through dispassionate boardroom discussions and standard protocol, portraying an emotionally disconnected world much like our own.

Most everything else is very cryptic, and one often gets the impression that the specific vibe of what a character is saying is more important than the actual words they're using. Make sense of it or don't; after all, your charge is to kill, not to understand.

Funnily enough, though, I don't care too much for the actual moment-to-moment gameplay. At best it's a serviceable semi-rail shooter, but at worst it's clunky and frustrating. Normally this would be pretty damning, but everything about the game's artistic presentation and world is so compelling, bizarre and dripping with personality that it makes such flaws very easy to overlook.

Islands: Non-Places (2016)

SCORE: 4/10

Completed in: under an hour

I found this game looking through the contents of the itch.io bundle for racial equality, which I purchased a few years ago. Visually, it scratched a similar itch to Vectorpark's Windosill, a favourite of mine, so I decided to check it out.

Through a series of levels, you're presented with seemingly-mundane locations which slowly unfold to reveal idiosyncracies ranging from the unusual to the supernatural. Your sole means of direct interaction with these worlds is to click on, predominantly, flashing lights scattered throughout them. It's a very pretty and atmospheric game, but it's one that doesn't seem interested in truly allowing you to inhabit these spaces. Perhaps that's part of the intent; most of these areas capture the mood of the vaunted 'liminal space' trend, and are therefore inherently transitory. But in order to really evoke that feeling of transition, we must first be welcomed in - a goal such a limited means of interaction does not achieve.

Islands does a passable job of portraying liminal spaces, and the visual presentation is beautiful, but it simply doesn't go beyond the surface level and ultimately fails to make an impact.

Secret Little Haven (2018)

SCORE: 5/10

Completed in: 2 or 3 hours I think

Rounding out this gaming roundup is an OS simulator, in the same vein as Hypnospace Outlaw, and another extremely trans game. Though we have access to a number of applications in the fictional Sanctuary OS, the overwhelming bulk of the story is communicated through an instant messaging app à la MSN or AIM.

We take the role of Alex, high school student and magical girl fan. Alex is assigned male at birth, but when a male character from their favourite anime is rumoured to transform into a girl in an upcoming movie, doubts about their gender identity begin to rise to the surface. To complicate matters further, Alex's father is obsessively controlling and manipulative, with very specific ideas about the person Alex should become.

I've been pretty harsh in my scoring of this one, but only because I do not find the OS simulation to be a compelling vessel for this story. It's clunky, and not even in the way a PC from 1999 should be, and the few puzzles which involve straying from the instant messenger are either ludicrously simple or extremely poorly conceived, especially when it comes time to use the cmd console.

Otherwise, though the actual story we're presented is reasonably competent, it moves far too quickly. Our main character goes from literally never having heard the word 'transgender' to immediately identifying as such. This is forgiveable, but some breathing room for discussion outside of gender would have been nice; as it stands aspects of the story regarding what it means to live in a society with rigidly defined gender roles or the intersection of well-meaning love and abuse are malnourished. My absolute least favourite part is Alex's school friend, a character whose concept is good, but their implementation is sophomoric at best (think 'creepypasta character typing their accent').

This section is pretty negative in tone but I want to stress there are things to like here. It's a hopeful and cautiously joyful story of transgender awakening, and as a trans person myself I was deeply ingratiated to Alex's journey, confusion and all.

MOVIES

These are gonna be a little more brief, I think. We'll see.

Pleasantville (1998)

SCORE: 6/10

Has any other 'they go to a cool alternate world' movie had the balls to have one of the characters stay behind to live there forever at the end?

Great concept, decently executed. Cops out a little from its stated goal of challenging social complacency and conservatism, but it is what it is.

True Lies (1994)

Score: 3/10

Iconically bad.

I love how soft-spoken Arnie is in this film, he's like a frighteningly large St. Bernard. Goes on for like four hours too long and is considerably less clever than I assume it thinks it is. Jamie Lee Curtis and Arnold Schwarzenegger kissing in the glow of a mushroom cloud is the most emblematic image of Hollywood there could ever be.

(Perfect Arabic)

The Darjeeling Limited (2007)

Score: I'm not sure

What I liked: The futility of directly seeking meaning in life when you're far more likely to find it in the everyday without looking for it. Condemnation of orientalism (...sorta). Beautiful visuals.

What I didn't: Portrayal of women. Despite it being intentional, main characters are irritating in a way I don't find compelling. Plays into orientalism (...sorta).

Anora (2024)

Score: 8/10

This would've been a 7 if not for the final scene. Dramatic, hilariously slapstick, frankly a lot fucking wackier than you'd probably expect. Similar to Felvidek in that 'you laugh before you cry' kind of way.

Practical Magic (1998)

Score: 4/10

A little rough. Another in the time-honoured tradition of 'witch movies where barely any witch stuff happens'. Heartwarming story about how it is very difficult to kill Johnny Depp. I liked the margarita scene, though.

Dragon Ball Z: Wrath of the Dragon (1995)

Score: So quintessentially subjective that I don't feel able to give one.

It's very telling that the poster for this movie is just Goku doing the big punch he does at the very end, rather than any of the core characters. Dumb and inconsequential, but the appeal of course comes from elsewhere. I love Tapion, this broody Link-type bishie boy. Vegeta shows up 85% of the way through the film and executes one attack which does not work. So it goes. I liked it.

The Craft (1996)

Score: First half 7-8/10, second half 4/10

Starts out positively iconic, lots of fun vindictive magic, edgy as sin, amazing outfit design. However, as with any teen revenge movie, the latter half must always centre around the main characters' comeuppance. I understand why this is, but it's just not fun!

Alright, that's all! I saw a few more movies so far this year, but I don't have enough to say about them to include in this post. Subsequent posts will most likely be much shorter. 'til next time.

-F

[the-gayest-show]

TGAMM Analysis: The Ghost IS Molly McGee/All in the Mind (Pt 2)

spoiler warning for the s2 finale as well, this part was my fav to write

All In The Mind

This episode covers one of the main arcs in this season: Scratch remembering his past. This is something hinted in episode 5b (Soda To Remember) and now this episode is a culmination of sorts. Another stepping stone, if you will.

In this episode, scratch is VERY bubbly in appearance (almost like a soda...) and he goes to the ghost doctor to try and get it fixed. She essentially tells him that it's psychosomatic (the problem is in his mind) and that to fix it, they need to get into the brain to find out what's really going on. This scenario is already intriguing for 2 reasons: 1)The bubbling is almost like that of a soda, as Molly remarks. This can be related back to episode 5B, where we get a scene where Scratch's memories are triggered via strawberry soda, and 2) It offers us, the audience, the opportunity to dive into Scratch's head and possibly get more knowledge of who he really was.

Next, we find out there's a secret book of rare chairman curses (which literally never showed up again afterwards, curse you Disney for canceling the potential 3rd season!!!), and that's how we get a portal into Scratch's mind. 

Now, Scratch's mindscape as shown in this episode is something I've always wondered about since my first watch of this episode. It has multiple layers to it, like a cake (sort of). The finale (curse you disney x2!!! we could have had a 3rd season but yall mucked it up! the script ideas the staff revealed were so good! fuck you!) shows us who Scratch was for real, and now that we know that Scratch was, it changes everything (not even this episode, but every episode but that's a larger conversation).

This episode has 3 layers, and three things Scratch must do to get to the next layer. Below is a list.

Layer 1: Molly's House. I like a lot about this layer; it shows us what I call the afterlife part of him, before he "died". This is his essential personality right now as of current, and it's lovely to see that he cares for the McGees so much that they've become in his subconscious. What's also interesting is that we're introduced to a monkey character who will follow the pair of protags around for the rest of the episode, but that's not important right now. This part of the episode also comes with the mandatory one song per segment, and this song is in my top 5 for sure! Ashley Burch (Molly) is SO good at singing and we hear a few bars from Dana Snyder (Scratch) too! This song is SO catchy and I've looped it several times! In order to beat it, Scratch has to be willing to open up a bit about his house (it probably had the soda? but I dunno), and we find a sticker on the door of his house, and opening the door leads us to...

Layer 2: this is the deeper stuff. We are greeted with a cardboard boat sitting in a bottle of Surly Sid's Strawberry Soda. The boat represents Scratch's inner desire for travel to a certain extent, but it also represents, as Molly states in this episode, that he is emotionally adrift, and that he's bottling up his feelings, both of which are true. The boat also represents Scratch and Adia's times playing games from their cardboard boat, pretending to go on adventures. It cements the belief that between the time of episode 5B and 12B, he's been pushing down these memories. This is also a bit hinted in another episode (can't remember which off the top of my head) where instead of soda, he drinks some off-brand other stuff, probably due to a fear of remembering more/having to deal with whatever may come of it if he does drink more strawberry soda. The Surly Sid's Soda is the exact brand of soda that triggered his memories, so that's why it's in the boat. To get to the next (and last) layer, Scratch has to stop repressing his feelings and admit how he feels. this causes the soda to bubble and take them down to the bottle cap of the soda, which is where the entrance to the last layer hides.

Layer 3: We start off with a suitcase, which eventually transforms into a large building. This is the final boss basically, where Scratch has to stop repressing the memories he gained from the soda and deal with them (thankfully, Molly is there to help!). The suitcase and the building both represent Scratch being very job-focused when he was still in his body so to speak, and the way he didn't want to quit. The finale also explains why he is very job-avoidant now, as he worked a lot when he was alive and went numb over it. In all of the entrances to the layers, there's a star sticker on them. This box also has a star on it, meaning Molly and Scratch need to open it in order to get out of his mind. The box quickly becomes lifted up by the building, signifying that subconsciously, Scratch is trying to avoid touching those memories. There's ladders for both of them to climb, but then there's a 2nd obstacle: remember that monkey who I mentioned earlier? He's now at the top of the building, throwing bananas down at our duo. Molly decides to ask Scratch what it is that he is repressing in the meanwhile, for Scratch to almost skirt the conversation, but at the mention of his past, the monkey pauses in throwing, implying his past was the thing he was repressing. Scratch goes to admit to Molly that he actually remembered something from the soda, but he was too afraid to tell Molly about it because the memories scared him, so he pushed them down. Molly comforts him by saying that she'll be there, no matter what, and that makes Scratch feel better enough to go look at the memories. Once they do, we are shown 2 scenes: one scene we'd seen in episode 5, where Adia was leaving in her moving truck, giving Scratch the soda and promising that "Every time we drink this soda, we'll think of each other. That way, I'll never forget you,  and you'll never forget me.", but the second one is new (something we the viewer haven't seen before). This one is a scene where young Scratch (who we vaguely see before the scene starts, back facing us) and a young Adia are in what is now Molly's room, playing in their cardboard boat. Adia shows Scratch all the places that they want to go to: The Eiffel Tower, the pyramids, and the tallest building in Chicago. In the finale, we see an adult Adia actually go to these places while Scratch doesn't. Anyway, once both memories are over, Scratch and Molly (in the present day) get teleported back to their room. Together, they sit and talk, and Molly reiterates that she's there for him no matter what, and Scratch says "I'd hate to not remember you", which is ironic because they end up separated in the series finale where Scratch loses his memories of Molly (*sob*). The episode ends (as all episodes in this show do) with an end card where Molly and Scratch sing "The Ghost and Molly McGee!", but this time it distorts and we see a bubble of Adia pop up into view. I don't entirely know what it means to be honest, but I felt it was worth mentioning.

In conclusion, I love this episode batch to BITS and rewatching this show is such a fun experience! This episode batch specifically is also gonna be my #1 favorite of all time, it's two episodes that are so good together! Who could ask for more?!

TGAMM Analysis: The Ghost IS Molly McGee/All in the Mind (Pt 1)

This was originally a thingy written for a mandatory film journal in my film class (where I essentially write long ass reviews of hyperfixation fuel and assigned movies) but oh no! my two favorite episodes!

Since tumblr has a text limit that is higher than the words i need to speak to get my point across, i'll be taking this into 2 posts which i'll combine thru reblogging

enjoy my first half of infodumping analysis/review!

The Ghost IS Molly McGee:

As an indulger of children's media, one thing lots of shows focused on fantasy/supernatural stuff like to do is a trope called the Body Swap. TGAMM has, in my opinion, the most unique take on it. Usually in Body Swapping, it's done to prove a point. Take The Owl House for example. It had a body swap episode which was the main trio swapping bodies because everyone thought they had it harder than the others in terms of living. Same could be said for other media with this trope, but TGAMM puts the loveliest spin on it. It makes the switch not to prove a point, but rather to mutually benefit each other.

The situation that the episode begins with has two sides. First, Scratch (being the Chairman of the Ghost World as of the s1 finale) is constantly annoying the Ghost Council (GC) with interrupting their work and eventually this leads to the GC going on strike. Since Scratch is lazy as all ever hell and the GC was essentially heavy loading his Chairman work for him, this is Scratch's side of the issue. Molly's side is that she has been selected to lead the school play, but can't seem to get everyone into line. It's like she herself says "I'm a encourager, Scratch, not a discourager!". Eventually the two of them decide to bodyswap (via wraithing molly and scratch possessing molly's soulless husk) to benefit each other (Molly is kind and supportive, Scratch is more negative and able to put his foot down), and they go on trying to solve their problems. At first, they each have success with the majority of the people in their respective locations (Possessed!Molly [actually Scratch] is a really good leader and leads the stage crew almost in a military way, while Possessed!Scratch [actually Molly] in the Ghost World goes on to convince 3 of the 4 GC members to forgive him/her/them [switching is hard to describe, stay with me here])

But there's one stickler that each of them have to face. Possessed!Molly has to deal with Georgie, who is supposed to be making a paper-mache costume for the play, but refuses to do so, despite Possessed!Molly's many attempts. Possessed!Scratch has to deal with Bart, one of the Ghost Council members who refuses to accept the apology no matter what form it comes in (food, cards, etc). This is essentially the driving force for the plot, we even get a solid song number out of it (crack an egg! gotta make or break! he's got anger and she's got cake!...)

Eventually, they both realize that they never actually asked said sticklers what the problem was that they had to begin with (aka. the message of this segment), and they both do that and listen to what the other has to say and it all works out. With Bart, he just wanted to be shown appreciation through real action and not through items, while Georgie wanted to be in the main role but she never is and thus she was upset about that. They both get what they want and that's the end!

Love the little thing at the end where when both Molly and Scratch watch Georgie perform and cringe so hard. LOL

[kodzukyan]

better with you (until it kills me)

notes: it's always missing baji hours here </3 fluff, angst; alternative ending: always, always you

summary: four times you think you are in love with baji keisuke, and the one time you tell him.

wc: 3.7k

You're reasonably sure the only reason he chooses you to pair up with for the Japanese literature project is that you sit next to him, but it surprises you all the same. You don't think you have much of a presence in class, but you don't think you can say the same about your new partner, Baji Keisuke.

His slicked-back ponytail and thick frames make his presence seem like a poindexter, but there's something about his bruised knuckles and his fierce aura that makes him feel ferocious. You've noticed him hang out with the school delinquent on multiple occasions. You also think you've seen him laugh wildly as he beats up some of the local thugs who crowded around the said delinquent he's friends with.

He isn't who you expect him to be at first glance, and that intrigues you more than you like to admit. You're too nervous to openly ask, so you settle for stealing glances at him from the corner of your eyes.

So, when he really decides on you and submits the partner form, you don't know what to think.

In the time that you two are partners, you've discovered a couple of things about him. First, his handwriting and kanji absolutely suck. Despite that, he writes a letter addressed to someone named Kazutora every week without fail. As if that isn't endearing enough, it gets even more so when he pouts at the complex characters that he often gets wrong and the inevitable smile that breaks out whenever you show him how to write them correctly.

("Oh, thanks! I would probably fail my kanji tests without you and Chifuyu. Kazutora probably can't even understand what I'm saying," he laughs rambunctiously.)

Second, he's genuinely an unexpectedly good partner in terms of being punctual about meeting up. However, despite being on time, there is little progress on the project. Your work times often end up in discussions about random life topics rather than the project itself.

(“Do you like cats?” he asks out of the blue one day, head on the table and books already forgotten.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” you humor him because you’re also tired of researching Japanese literature.

“Wanna see my cats? They’re all strays,” he sits up suddenly, eyes lit and smile bright.

You nod, and he proceeds to take out his phone to show you pictures of his cats. You note his lock-screen is a picture of all his cats, and his camera roll is just full of his friends and mom, motorcycles, and the said cats. With shining eyes full of excitement, he tells you their names and their personalities in detail.

"Do you think cats recognize their names but choose to ignore us whenever we call them?" he resumes the conversation after he finishes showing you his gallery. He leans back as he balances his pencil on top of his pursed lips.

"Maybe. Depends on the cat? Maybe they just hate you?" you mimic his pose. You suppose thirty minutes of work is enough progress for the day.

"Ouch," he grimaces as if it shatters him directly in the heart.)

Third, sometimes he comes with his hair down and without his glances, with stains on his clothes that he claims are ketchup, despite it not smelling like that at all.

("Uh, hey, sorry I'm late today," he offers sheepishly as he runs a hand through his unbound hair.

"Oh, it's okay," you finally say after you take in his shaggy appearance. You try not to think about how handsome he is despite the bruises forming on his face. "Are you… okay?"

"All good! The ketchup bottle just randomly exploded," he laughs nervously and awkwardly. "Anyways!! The project!!"

You stare at him dubiously but nod anyway. "Okay, if you say so…")

Fourth, he has an extremely charming smile, especially when his fangs are in full display. To some, it may look fierce and menacing; to you, it looks cute, especially when his eyes are always brimming with life and his laugh is full of vitality.

More often than not you catch yourself staring at him because he's just so intriguing.

You try to ignore your racing heart when your stolen glances become shared ones, and he flashes you a grin softer than the smiles you've seen.

-----

“Uh, hi.” You say shyly as you enter through Baji’s window. It’s not frequently you seek out Baji at his own home, especially through the window he keeps open almost exclusively for stray cats to seek shelter.

“What the fuck?” Baji drops the stray cat he's cuddling as you give a slight wave, causing the cat to meow loudly at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I, uh, just wanted some company.”

You feel vanishingly small as you awkwardly laugh and piece together some words that make sense. Home is supposed to be full of warmth, but your home is more of a house with people than a home with love. It’s a truth you’ve long accepted, but some days, it feels a little extra cold.

Therefore, you run, and somehow you end up here, in the comforts of Baji’s room.

Maybe you are currently a stray cat, feeling a little more lost than found. Maybe you find that he’s the sort of comfort that warms you a little when your heart feels heavy. Maybe you are just a little bit in like with him, and he is the first person you want to see whenever you’re feeling down.

The room is silent aside from the soft paps of cats moving around and the periodic meow. Then, he pats the spot next to him, and you make your way there. As soon as you sit down, he hands you a cat.

“Here, hold her. She’s nice,” he comments as he places the calico cat he dropped earlier in your lap, petting her as she adjusts to her new position on you.

She narrows her eyes and softly purrs in your lap as Baji pets her, and this makes you feel more in the moment than in your head like you’ve been. Your initial baffle turns into a smile as she purrs louder when you pet her, and just like that, you feel a little more found than lost.

You lean on his shoulder as you continue petting the calico cat in your lap. You keep your eyes on her as she climbs onto his lap and nuzzles him in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks and your drumming heart from your proximity.

“Thanks for giving me a home when I don’t want to be in my own,” you tell him softly, airly, almost as if you’re letting him in on a secret.

He stops playing with the cats for a moment and pauses. Feeling his intense stare, you peek through your lashes up at him. His broad grin and sharp canines are in full display, and his smile looks a little more boyish than wild. He tousles your hair as he laughs aloud boisterously before he props his head on top of yours.

“You’ll always have a home here.”

-----

It all started when a group of thugs looked at you inappropriately and made some comments that made you uncomfortable. You grip the ends of his sleeve just a little harder and press yourself behind him, trying to make yourself impossibly small. Baji, seeing your small form and downcast eyes, removes your hand from his sleeve and places it in his hand. Knowing Baji and him knowing you and your every mood, he does not stand for it. He simply flashes you a reassuring grin before he squeezes your hand and runs straight at them.

He throws the first punch, and you could just stand there in shock as he pummels through them and beats them up. He has cuts and bruises everywhere, and you’re certain he’s taken on a few nasty hits on his ribs. Though you’re equally confident that these thugs are absolutely 100% in worse shape than he is.

“Oh my god,” you sob frantically as Baji wobbles back to you, ferocious smile on his face softens as he sees you. He pats your head when he notes your teary eyes. You’re not even sure when you start crying, but the tears just don’t seem to stop. “Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you -”

He clutches your tear-stained face in his hands, “Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his, but you can barely see him over your tears as you continue your incoherent rambling.

“Hey,” he tries once more, voice more frantic as he struggles to find words. He finally just squishes your cheeks and yells, “Do you think I care about anything else but you right now?”

Your eyes widen, and the tears forming fall freely onto his hands. Oh, oh, oh, you think to yourself as your beating heart rapidly thumps at an exponential speed, maybe he’s also falling. When you meet his steady gray eyes, the shocking realization that maybe you’re not the only one dumb and possibly in love stops your tears.

He sighs in relief when your tears gradually stop, and as if all the tiredness accumulated in his body hit him all at once, he falls down onto the ground.

You try to catch him as best as you can, and with the combined effort of mostly himself and partially you, he breaks his fall. He lays sprawled out on the ground. After you check for wounds and find none too serious, you sit with your knees tucked under you by where he lays and moves his head onto your lap.

All around you are the battered bodies of the thugs you’ve encountered, but all you can see at the moment is him and his gray eyes that disappear into crescent moons as he flashes you a grin. He’s too tired to move, but he raises a fist up into the air in victory anyway.

“I got you.”

-----

"Wanna go on a ride?" he texts you.

It’s almost midnight when he texts you, and it’s probably way past when you should stay up. But your heart flutters at the thought of adventure, at the thought of him, so you quickly respond, “Okay, but be quiet! Don't wake my parents up again, stinky!!!”

You can already imagine his sheepish smile when he sends you a "that was once!!! my bad" back.

After sending him a quick ":p", you silently put on some clothes more fitting to go out than your pajamas. The sound of his motorcycle announces his greater-than-life presence long before his text does. Grabbing two scrunchies, you sneak out your window.

He only greets you with a goofy smile and a wave, hair free-flowing in the wind. Under the moonlight, his gray eyes twinkle with vigor and youth. It knocks the air out of your lungs as you glance at him because he's beautiful, ethereal, and alive. He smiles smugly when he catches your stare, but he holds his hand out for you to take.

"Hi," you whisper under the twinkling stars as you put your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispers back as he curls his fingers around your hand before adjusting to interlace your fingers together.

The quietness and intimacy of this moment drown out the world - the sound of cars driving by, of cicadas flying, of the world standing still. The only thing keeping you from floating is his hand and the sound of your heartbeat.

"I got you a hair tie." You offer softly with an equally soft smile, eyes pointing to the scrunchies on your wrist.

"I got you a hoodie," he responds as he nods to his motorcycle. "Because I knew your dumb ass would, once again, forget to dress for the winds."

"I'm dressed decently enough. You, though… please tie your hair… It hurts like hell when it whips in my face," you laugh lightly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's also what you said last time before you ended up stealing my hoodie, and I ended up being cold!" he complains, but there's a certain fondness in his voice.

You only stick your tongue out childishly at him. You would rather bite your tongue than admit that you are always slightly underdressed for the occasion so he would keep giving you his hoodies.

He tugs your interlaced hand and pulls you closer, and as you stand so close to him, you think close isn't quite close enough. The two of you linger in that position for longer than what should be appropriate for friends, but you think you have been tiptoeing around that line for a while now. Your heart races, and you're sure your erratic heart is beating fast enough to generate heat to keep you warm against the cold winds.

He pulls away first, moving to grab his hoodie before he roughly puts it on you. He laughs when you complain about your ruffled hair, but as his hoodie and scent engulf you, you could only shyly smile. He takes a scrunchie despite complaining about how poofy it is. As he settles in his bike and you settle in behind him, arms tight around his waist, you think this is probably what holding the universe in your arms feels like.

He rives his bike loudly despite your warning, but you find that you could care less right now as he takes off. You are young and dumb, but the wind is running through your hair as the two of you are chasing the moon, and it makes you feel so alive. Neon lights and starlit skies blur together as he speeds through familiar roads, and the brisk winds drown out your loud laughter. It feels like you're feeling everything at once, but your head is so clear.

You think you can understand why he loves riding so much because the only thing that you can hear is your loud heartbeat, and the only thing that matters is you're living.

He finally stops at a local 24-hour diner. The moonlight shines through the window by your table. You are still feeling the wild wind in your hair, cold air on your face, and the warmth of Baji’s back on your arms. It's way past midnight now, and the yellow lights of the diner feel a little more homey than dingy. He’s munching on some fries, occasionally waving one in your face whenever he’s trying to make a point about something. As you watch the various expressions on his face, a smile makes its way to your face.

“Hey Keisuke,” you grab a fry and jab it at him in the middle of his sentence. He stops his mid-word as he stares at you, head tilting slightly and mouth still gaping. There is a particular word that you keep thinking of whenever you think of Baji, a feeling that lingers and fills your heart up. You know what it is. You think you know at least, and in moments like these when you’re just watching his goofy self munching on fries while boisterously laughing at something dumb, all you can think of is those four letters.

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper before you eat your fry. Best friend, you think, encompasses a lot of things and feelings as you stare at his childlike grin, heart fluttering and mind blanking because all you see is him. You hope he knows, hope he gets that best friend is a loose term because he is so much more.

When he meets your eyes and his gray eyes crinkle in mirth and laughter rolls off his lips, you think he does.

“I know,” he smugly nods before he drops another fry into his mouth. “I guess you’re pretty cool too.”

You stick your tongue out at him and feel a warmth in your heart that matches the pinks of his cheeks. Maybe it’s adrenaline still in your blood, maybe it’s the moment, but it makes you devious, brave even, as you lean over and chomp down on the fry he's holding.

He stares at you with his mouth wide open, looking absolutely flabbergasted and offended. “Hello? That was my last fry!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, not feeling all that sorry at all. You know he’s not truly that offended because he has that stupid grin on his face, because he’s always soft with you. A part of you does feel a little sorry when you see the small pout that arises on his face. “I’ll treat you to yakisoba later?”

He turns away from you, face still slightly sulky as he huffs silently.

“No? You don’t want yakisoba?” you ask. You still find it amusing that Baji Keisuke, the first division captain of the Toman Gang who would punch someone on the streets for no reason other than just because he feels like it, is pouting because you stole his last fry. If anyone from any rival gangs sees Baji Keisuke now, they probably wouldn’t believe this is the same person.

“Fine,” he huffs softly, “But don’t think one yakisoba is enough.”

“Then,” you begin, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you work up the courage, “What about this?”

He turns to you in confusion, and before your courage runs out on you, you crash your lips onto his before you pull away.

“Repayment,” you mutter meekly, eyes avoiding his because you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from where he’s sitting.

“Hey,” he tugs on your hand under the table. When you finally look at him, he continues, “Just one isn’t enough.”

He kisses you again.

-----

Home is supposed to be the place you come from, but you think it's more like a place you find, pieced together from scattered bits of feelings, emotions, people along the way. Somewhere along the lines, home becomes less of a place and more of a person. Your home becomes the boy with the sharp canines and long hair that gets tangled by the stray cats he keeps, the "I love you" declared loudly with kisses and the longing looks in between, the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours as you chase sunsets and live in your own infinity. Your home is Baji Keisuke and the constant image of him in your mind and the infinite pieces of him in your heart.

Infinity, though, is awfully short, you think, as you see him lay surrounded by bouquets, eyes closed in eternal slumber. He's always looked good in white, but when his tan complexion is nearly as pale as the white roses surrounding him, you think white is an awful color on him. His eyes always shine with possibilities and promises, and while you've always joked that his sleeping face is cute because he always looks so innocent, adorable even, all you want now is to see him awake.

His heroism and love for his friends are always something that you love about him, but in turn, it feels so incredibly cruel to you now. For as short as he has been in your life, he becomes pieces embedded so deeply in it that it makes you whole. You cannot imagine a world where there is no Baij, where he isn’t there to punch a hooligan on the streets or feed stray cats at night or hold you when your world is crashing. You cannot imagine a life where he isn’t here to shine a bright light in your life without his laughter and goofy personality. Suddenly the world blurs around you, and you can't breathe as droplets of water hit your clenched hands on your lap.

You hold his hands. Cold, cold, cold, when they used to be warm enough to light a fire in you. There are so many things you want to tell him, say to him, but the speech you prepare in your head drowns in silence as your voice gives out on you. All the words in your head just come out as broken sobs. You feel the sympathetic and equally broken glance of his mom as she embraces you, but all you can think about is that he won’t open his eyes.

Baji Keisuke has always been bigger than life, you think, because he becomes a part of everything in your life. There are traces of him everywhere - him with his cats on your lock-screen, the random memes he sends you at night, the little notes he leaves you written in his ugly penmanship with love. When you think of these things, you feel like your heart is breaking all over again.

People tell you to be strong, and while you want to retort because how can you when he’s gone?, you find that you cannot say a word without crying. You’re tired of crying too because your eyes are already so, so raw, but it seems like all you can do is cry. When you think you've finally run out of tears and your tears finally stop, a new batch takes over even at the slightest things that remind you of him. You feel so pathetic because you can't do anything without water leaking from your eyes, and you hate yourself for being so weak.

You tune out the somber tone of his friends and the broken tone of his mom because you don't want to accept a reality where he isn't here. But luck is never on your side because he never opens his eyes again, and you never get to tell him how much you love him. All you get are flashbacks and memories of him and emptiness in your heart and soul. You tell yourself you have to be strong and smile and live for the both of you, but you can't. Not when he isn't here, not when he isn't with you anymore. Every time you think about that fact, your heart breaks again.

"Hey, stupid," your broken sobs ring loudly in the deafening silence, "I love you."

The words you’ve wanted to tell him for so long are finally in the open, but there is no answer.

[spideyspeaches]

Peter Parker x popular!reader and they just start dating and Peter is really nervous around her and gets flustered whenever she’s close so to calm Peter you tell him it’s okay to touch u and maybe a give him a bj

A/N: sjjfkf thanks for sending so many prompts love you 😘😘 hope you like this eheh I don't like it very much ✌ beta read by @parkerpeter24 :)

Warnings: smut :) (characters are 18)

MINORS DNI

Wc: 1.9k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Girlfriend ↬ p.p

Peter Parker was the kind of guy who would get easily flustered if he was to talk to a girl, or any human as a matter of fact.

So it came off as a big shock to the Avengers when they found out that he, the shy nerdy Peter Parker, had a girlfriend at all.

They were all having a family dinner (something about bonding, Tony had said), when you called him, interrupting him from some Spidey adventure story he was reciting.

"Sorry guys, gotta take this," He said, phone smushed between his cheek and shoulder, fork halfway through his mouth, "uh, hey babe, what happened? Everything okay?"

Bucky and Steve were the first one to break out of their shocked stares as Peter called someone "babe" on the phone. 

Surely you don't call your friend babe, right?

"Peter! Thank God you picked up, can you come over right now?" You said on the phone.

"Uh actually, I'm having dinner, is it okay if I come over in an hour or so?" He said, ignoring the shouted whispers about a brewing conspiracy of who could it be on the phone in the background. 

"Okay, but don't forget like last time! I'm actually calling you to help me out with our chem lab manual-" 

"-didn't we do it during homeroom yesterday?" 

"Yeah but I need help with this one experiment, please Petey? I really need your help with this." You whine, hoping that he would catch your drift. But he didn't apparently, because he sighed, looking over his shoulders to see the Avengers with perked up ears, and replied;

"Okay fine. I'll be there in an hour Okay? Bye." He said and hung up, pocketing his phone and making his way to the dining room, only to be assaulted by a hundred and one questions.

"Peter who was that-"

"You've been keeping secrets from your father figure now-"

"Hope you're being safe, if you know what I mean-" 

"Kids these days." (That was from Steve)

"Guys stop! One by one please!" Peter shouted, holding his hands to his ears, frowning as he glared at them, "why are you all asking these questions?" 

"Because kid, if I'm being honest, we don't believe that you have a girlfriend, so spill the beans." Tony sighed, holding his cheek with his elbow on the table.

"Okay ouch. Why is it so hard to believe have a girlfriend?! I'm hot." Peter pouted, crossing his arms to try and look intimidating.

"Because you're you! You're shy nerdy Peter!" Tony said, gesturing at others to back him up.

"I mean, he's not that bad. Quite a charmer." Natasha smirked, sending him a look, which quite frankly, terrified and impressed Peter at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah totally." 

"I believe you kid. Are we gonna meet her soon?" Tony rolled his eyes, smiling when he blushed red.

"If she's okay with it." He said, intertwining his fingers.

"Well I hope she is, cause I want to meet the girl who stole my kid's heart." 

"Mr. Staaaark!" 

***

Leaving the tower had been a difficult feat, with the constant questions and a snarky comment or two, especially when they found out that you were a cheerleader. 

Rapping his knuckles on your apartment door, he smiled as you greeted him with an excited hug. He couldn't help but look at your skirt, the way it enhanced your waistline, and how it fit just right on your thighs, its frills swaying with the sway of your hips-

"Pete? You coming or what?" You laughed, a hand on your room's door as you look over your shoulder with glinting eyes.

"Uh- uh yeah just a minute. Are your parents home?" He asked casually, following you to your room.

"Nah, they're out for tonight." You said, closing the door behind him.

"Oh that's good, which experiment were you- Uh, what are you doing?" He asked, his voice rising an octave as he saw you unbuttoning your shirt, moving your fingers in slow motion as if to tease him.

"I finished my homework yesterday Petey, that's not why I called you." You whispered, straddling his lap as you hold his face, eyes shining with mischief. He instantly felt his dick harden as you rubbed against him, face burning when you traced his cheekbones, kissing his nose and then his lips.

"What, Uh, what did you call me for then?" He stuttered, holding your waist through the skirt's thin material, fingers itching to tear it off you. His heart was racing and he wondered if you could hear it doing so.

"You know why, it's been so long and I miss you baby." You whined, pouting as he unzips your skirt, watching it slide down your thighs in rivulets. You clench your thighs against his waist, intertwining your toes as you felt the space between your legs starting to wet.

"You met me in school yesterday." He mumbled, puffing his cheeks as he strained to keep a straight face, not with you looking so pretty in just your bra and skirt.

You had been overwhelmingly horny the past few hours, craving for your boyfriend's touch, imagining the way he fucked you against your bed frame as it shook with his strength.

"You miss me huh?" He smirked, catching you off guard when he flipped you over, holding you down as he rocked his hips against yours, leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, reaching between your breasts and stopping a moment enough to hear you whine.

"I missed you so much and I want to fuck you now." You said, sucking a breath when he all but tore your bra, arching your back to let his fingers linger on you.

"Missed you too, missed all of you, missed your wet pussy. Wanna show my pretty girl how much I missed her." He growled, sucking on the sensitive skin of your nipple as he massaged your breasts. 

"Already wet for me eh?" He whispered, nibbling at your ear as he slid his length into You, "Fuck baby such a tight pussy." 

Quickly undressing himself, you openly drooled at how packed your boyfriend was. It was not the first time you would be doing… it together since your six month long relationship, but it was the first time you got to see his dominant side, and it turned you on. 

"Mmhmm yeah, only cause your dick is practically blue." You moaned, hissing when he hit a sensitive spot.

"Fuck, oh shit go faster Peter- oh!" You hissed, your skin slapping with his as he thrusts into you with a gusto.

"You like that babygirl?" He asked, eyes scrunching as he threw his head back, feeling your walls clench against his dick as you moved with him.

"Yes! You're so good oh- I'm gonna cum Peter!" You panted, chest heaving as your stamina decreases with every push and pull, your hands fisted on your sheets hard enough for them to pull out of your mattress.

You saw him flush red, confusion showing on your face as you tilted your head, your  almost orgasm forgotten as you held his cheek, "what happened?" 

"I- you've never um, org-orgasmed before on me." He muttered, his pupils blown wide as he looks at you with the most innocent look ever, and you would have laughed had his dick still not been inside you, midway in the air, his butt held high above. 

"Peter… are You, we've literally fucked so many times and you're getting flustered over me orgasming?" You chuckled, wiping away the sweat forming on his forehead.

"Yeah but you've never come on my bare dick before!" He countered, gulping as he saw you smirk. 

"Everything has a first time doesn't it?" You say, picking yourself upright so that you were chest to chest now, your nipples hardening against his bare chest as you rubbed against him, "Wanna try something?"

Your hand slides down to his dick as he nodded a yes, slowly pumping his balls as you kiss his lips. You hear him moan tour name, the sounds sending wetness dripping down your thighs again. Ignoring your thighs, you bent down to lick the tip of his dick, slick with pre cum and bright pink. 

"Is this okay?" You ask, swirling your tongue teasingly, wetting his already wet dick with your mouth as you sucked at it with a pop.

"This is amazing baby, keep going." He threw his head back, a growl emitting from deep inside his throat, "wow uhhh." 

"Wow what Petey?" 

"Wow you're- you're amazing. God I've- I understand why people like being on the receiving end of the job right now." 

"Job?" You laughed, "hun this isn't a Job." 

"You- you know what I mean!" He chuckled, shaking his head as you continued to suck on it.

"No I don't. Please enlighten me." You smiled, peeping from under your lashes as your tongue works through his hard member. 

"I know you know." He whimpered, hands creeping up to his balls as he tried to take care of his blues.

"No. Lemme do it." You slapped his hands, snickering when he whined. 

"Oh Tony wants to meet you by the way." He said suddenly, making you groan and fall back dramatically.

"You know I don't do family members Petey." You mumbled, pulling him down, his mouth immediately latching onto the underside of your breasts.

"But why? Am I- aren't we serious enough now?" He asked.

Your heart stuttered at the thought of meeting one of the most important people in his life other than May. You and May had already met (post an unfortunate...accident), not to mention he was freaking Iron Man!

"It's not that. It's just, what if he doesn't like me? Or black widow. I'm not your normal nerdy girl with A grades, what if they think I'm not good enough for you? Or that I'm violating you for Spider-Man? What if-" 

"- baby I swear they'll love You! And if they don't then it's their loss, because no matter what you are, who you are friends with, how many A's you get or don't, you'll always be my girl." His voice was soft as his hands moved with featherlight movements, rubbing light circles on your waist, instantly relaxing you. 

"Are you sure?" You said, biting your lips and fiddling with his hair. He gave another moan as your fingers played with his hair, scratching slightly behind his ear.

"Yes bub, they will love you. You're very important to me, you know that right?" He said.

"Even if I wear short skirts and hang out with jocks?" You giggled, resting your forehead on his toned chest, playing with his skin.

"Especially if you wear those short skirts." He smirked, making you roll your eyes as you slapped his chest slightly. Sighing, you kissed him again, rolling over so you were laid on top of him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you let yourself fall asleep, with his clothes in your room and hand in your hair. 

***

Peter woke up the next morning, the incessant ringing of his phone working as an alarm. 

Groaning he rolled over, careful as to not wake you up, squinting at the bright screen of his phone. Before he could cut the ringer though, it cut off on its own, only to be taken over by a text.

You didn't come home last night kiddo 😏

Shit. 

[anxious2dsimp]

General Dating Headcanons | Sero, Todoroki & Bakugou

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Pairings: Sero x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Bakugou x Reader

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Headcanons​

Warnings: Cursing bc Bakugou 🙄 (as if I wasn’t the one who picked him lmao)

Request: :))) hellooooo :D hmmmm may i get general dating headcanons for sero, todoroki, and [insert your favorite character]? 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 @smexy-goose

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Hi again!! Omg yes, I’ll gladly write some hcs for the best bois! I had a hard time picking a fave, but since I have written for Kami and Kiri in the last request I decided to go with blasty boy❤️ (Also, I’m trying a new way to post requests, I hope it works!)

Sero Hanta

I feel like Sero is genuinely so fun to date, just like he said in that one dorm episode, he’s always the wild card.

He’s a goofball, so he adores making you laugh and smile as much as he can. I love him omg😭

Will definitely take advantage of his height (he’s among the taller ones in the class) and give you surprise hugs from behind and rest his head on yours.

He’ll also use his quirk on you for everything from pranks to just randomly pulling you to him to give you a quick peck or a hug :’)

He’s pretty standard with PDA, so he won’t go around making out with you in public but he will do little gestures like those <3

In private I feel like he’s definitely cuddly, he’s just so happy to be with you!

He loves having you over at his room to just chill or be in each other’s presence, even if you’re doing stuff individually.

Speaking of, the bakusquad definitely complains about you having privilege in using the hammock in Hanta’s room. 

Denki will whine like; “why does y/n always get to use the hammock? You said it was out of bounds!”

“That’s on pretty privilege, sorry! And you’re just jealous you don’t have a cool s/o like mine,” Sero will say and poke his tongue out from the hammock where you’re swinging togehter :’) 

I’m warning you now, if you had a healthy sleep schedule before going out with him, you can kiss it goodbye.

Sero will absolutely be up till like 3 am sending you memes and tiktoks that remind him of you.

And with him blowing up your phone you’ll most likely end up talking into ungodly hours of the night, the *sleep deprivation* only causing funnier conversations.

Those will end up becoming inside jokes that he’ll bring up to make you laugh while the rest of the class is like ???

That also results in some weird ass nicknames sorry not sorry

So he’ll sometimes call you regular stuff like babe and other times... he’ll call you things like “Bert” (FOR NO REASON??) or “Candied Blood Pumping Organ” instead of sweetheart lmao

Overall you two are just THE chaotic couple (and if you’re not generally that way he will bring out that side of you)

Pranking your classmates? Pranking each other? Random ass adventures? Trying weird food together? Dancing in the kitchen at midnight while sharing late night snacks? By going out with him you said yes to all of the above.

From sneaking out of the dorms for late night food runs to occasionally skipping class to go to the arcade or the beach, you usually can’t go a week without doing something fun togehter.

This one time you two were out with the Bakusquad and y’all stopped by a supermarket to get food. 

So you had to ask Bakugou to buy you something bc you and Sero had to stay outside and just hand him the money.

He was like “tf?? why? Just buy your shit yourselves!” You had to explain you two were banned from the store because Hanta had accidentally crashed a cart he was driving you around in into a display of cereal boxes.

Ah yes, good times.

Todoroki Shoto

I feel like he’ll definitely need a small push when it comes to relationships bc of his past, but once you’re with him he’ll care deeply about you and will try to make you as happy as you make him :’)

I’m begging you, please give this boy some luv and affection!! For the most part you’d probably initiate PDA because he’s too nervous to do it himself

At the beginning he wouldn’t even be comfy cuddling, solely because he’d be afraid of hurting you somehow :(

But once you’ve reassured him he complies, and from then on out you just have to open your arms and he’ll instantly know it’s *cuddle time*

It’a one of his favorite pastimes bc he just feels so safe and loved <3 he also just loves the feeling of you playing with his hair

Luckily you get to do it year round since you cuddle his hot side in the winter and cold side during the summer

I feel like he’s secretly insecure, so the fact that you trust him and love him for who he is makes him feel like he could melt <3

Because of that you’re the only one he truly opens up to and shows his real feelings to, not to mention the only one who can touch his scar

And though he isn’t great with words, one look at him during one of these personal moments when its just you two, and you can just see it in his eyes.

Especially if you kiss his scar, his eyes might even get teary this sweet boy I 😭

That’s also probably why he shares his precious cold soba with you

Since you’ve been together, Shoto has just been so much happier, so his siblings and mother LOVE you.

They’re constantly inviting you over for dinner when Endevour is working (bc he’s a huge buzzkill to say the least), and his mom adores when you come with Shoto to visit her :)

Todoroki really enjoys seeing you get along with the people he cares the most about...

 BUT what he hates is THE EMBARRASING STORIES HIS FAMILY TELLS YOU OMG (you live for them, but I wouldn’t tell him that if I were you)

“Fuyumi remember when Shoto-” “Natsuo, no💙“ your bf will say as he unconsciously squeezes your hand, both of the siblings laughing at Shoto’s glare.

You had to hold in your laughter so hard omg

Though he isn’t that talkative, you guys definitely have that kind of relationship where you two could be silent and still feel completely comfortable (oh I’m so jealous of that but nvm)

He’s definitely observant, so expect the most considerate gifts and the most assertive observations, he’ll always know what you need.

The type of observant that gives you a water bottle before you even notice you’re thristy during training, or switches sides while walking so you loop your arm with his on his warm side when you’re cold.

Also the type to gift you that one thing you really wanted but mentioned once like months ago along with your favorite snacks/drink (you best believe he has them all memorized bc he’s just that attentive)

Over all, just a really soothing relationship were you can be comfortable with each other and feel at home when you’re together.

Bakugou Katsuki

Ok so, I feel like you’d be a competitive couple, turning anything into a competition in an endearingly annoying way.

You’re definitely the type of couple to go to laser tag, an escape room, an arcade, etc, as dates >:) but the competitions don’t end there:

Who can plan the best date? Who can make the other blush first? Who can get the other the better gift? Who’s the better kisser? Who gets the higher score in class? Or wins at sparring?

Especially when it comes to productive stuff like training or academics, although he won’t admit it, he’s just pushing you to be your best because he knows how amazing you are :’)

All the bakusquad knows about your shenanigans and at this point they’ve learnt to stay out of it & go get the Advil just in case bless their souls lmao

I’m sorry but he definitely calls you nicknames that purposely piss you off (with no ill intentions ofc), like “gremlin”, “dumbass” or “booger”

I suggest you also call him stuff like that back, like “angry pom” or “blasty” to get on his nerves >:)

You guys also definitely friendly bicker all the time, knowing that you take it lightly (though strangers won’t, resulting in some hilariously awkward situations)

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he’ll say rolling his eyes as he messes up your hair.

Just watch his smirk dissapears when you reply, “no, u❤️″ It gets on his nerves, I just know it.

So he’ll chase you around as you call each other random stuff. While the other people at the convenience store are just like  👁👄👁

He never means it tho, keep in mind if you’re dating the self proclaimed future no. 1 hero he thinks highly of you :)

So he’d definitely be protective while simultaneously showing you off <3

Will always greet you with a kiss and keep his hand on your back or waist so ppl know you’re with him

RIP anyone who tries to hurt or flirt with you, I say try bc Bakugou will be exploding them even before they get the chance😅

Denki’s definitely almost gotten his brows blown off his face bc of that lol

Speaking of, the bakusquad still can’t get over the fact that THE lord explosion murder has a soft spot for you,

You mean you take care of his injuries, scold him when he burns himself out, touch his hair, and hug him when his moody... and you DON’T get cussed out and blown up? Shooketh

However they don’t see what happens behind closed doors, & how you’ve helped him with all the trauma he has experienced

You’re the only one who he is vulnerable with, you’ve seen him cry and he tells you about his nightmares and fears

You do the same with him, and you promise each other to get through anything together, which you’ve done so far :’)

Bc of that his parents love you, and his mom’s always going on about how she’s so glad you “stand” his son😂

Why can’t he be real ughhh

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

You Shouldn’t Touch What’s Not Yours

Pairing - Diluc and Childe x Reader (separate of course).

Warnings - Violence, implied bullying/harassment/assault, very very mild gore.

Other Comments - I’ve wrote so much for Childe that I thought I should probably throw someone else into the mix, so why not put in my second favorite white boy Diluc hehe. (♡-_-♡) I can’t help but write angst for my babies but I promise I have some lighter fluffier stuff on the way  (￣ω￣;). I also tried to make these a little shorter since I was writing for two characters this time hehe.

~ Childe ~

      The day was set up to be so good. Childe had been quite busy with his usual Harbinger duties, but he had finally been able to score a couple days off and decided he wanted to plan out a romantic sequence of evenings. He had spent so much time and effort making everything perfect. Childe most definitely not frugal in any terms of the word, but he managed to surprise himself with how much Mora he had spent for just two days. Of course just the luck for him, a wrench had to be thrown into the mix.

      You had been having a tough couple of weeks trying to deal with a rather difficult man who had commissioned you from the Adventurers guild. After you had informed him that you were unable to complete his commission, he had decided to make your life a living hell; constantly throwing insults at you and almost getting physical with you on a couple of occasions.

      Now of course when you had received message from Childe that he was going to be “home” for a couple of days, you were absolutely floored. You missed him greatly and you were finally going to have someone to distract you from the awful harassment; but this also meant that you were going to have to figure out a way of hiding the obvious toll it took on you. 

      There were dark bags underneath your once gleeful eyes, from the loss of sleep due to worrying about this man and his whereabouts. There were also a couple of bruises left on your knees from stumbling when running away from your aggressor; though those could easily be written off as injuries from the Hilichurls or Treasure Hoarders.

      On the day of Childe’s arrival he had expected to be greeted with a beaming (y/n), and a great big hug, maybe even a passionate kiss. But what he was greeted with, was the shell of his significant other. Today was the worst possible day for him to see you, as you had just gotten out of a physical altercation with the usual suspect. There were clear tear stains, you had dirt and scrapes all over you, and he even dared to go as far as give you a bloody nose.

      You gave Childe a lifeless smile that couldn’t even reach your eyes, before heading straight into your apartment and closing the door; not waiting for Childe. Not only was he outraged and your actions and appearance, the way you were acting clearly alluded to this abuse lasting for a while. Why didn’t you say anything about it to him, send him a message? He could’ve sent over Fatui agents to take care of the cockroach. Of course his outrage was misplaced, is was not your fault; he knew this. He needed to get to the roots of this little weed.

      It took a little bit of digging, but once Childe found the source of your issues it was over. This man had never been more blind sighted with rage, than when he made eye contact with the piece of shit who dared to lay a hand on you or speak to you at all.

      Childe was very careful about only showing you the good side of him, at least for now as your relationship with him was still too new; so gods did it feel good to really beat the shit out of this guy. 

      “Hey you! Did you commission an adventurer by the name of (y/n) by any chance?” Childe new better than to suddenly go in swinging, by the slight off chance that this may have been the wrong man.

      “Huh? Oh yeah, or at least I tried. The useless little shit couldn’t get it done though, so I do not recommend them at all.” Ah yes, the flash of red in Childe’s vision confirmed it all. How dare they speak ill of you, and even worse touch something that belonged to him.

      “Bad news comrade, you should never touch something that isn’t yours.” There was an evil glint in Childe’s now dark eyes as he suddenly swung at the man. He didn’t really care if others say, he decided it was good to make an example out of this jerk.

      By the end of everything, Childe was spattered with blood, not to mention how awful his fists looked. Though that doesn’t even begin to cover what the other man looked like. To call him a bloody mess was an understatement, and the copper headed man wasn’t exactly sure if the man was even breathing anymore though of course he didn’t exactly care either. 

      With that, Childe cleaned himself up before heading back to your residence. He guessed he would just have to extend his stay with you for a few more days to make up for what this scum bag did. He would be damned if he left without seeing that playful glint return to your eyes.

~ Diluc ~

     Diluc was an incredibly busy man, so he never got to see you much except for the rare occasions that you would stop by the winery if you  were say in the area. So when he made the executive decision to leave work early and surprise you at home, he was more than a little shocked to see you getting yelled at by one of the Knights of Favonius.

       He knew you had always been a little more on the soft and sensitive side, which made him love you even more. You were the polar opposite to him in that regard, so a switch flipped in him when his eyes met your tearful ones.

      “Excuse me what happens to be the problem here?” Diluc’s strides were large and quick, trying to get between you and the dreadful knight as quickly as possible. It was clear that this Knight was not normally on patrol inside of Mondstadt, or on patrol anywhere for that matter as he seemed to be pretty new. Even if Diluc despised all of them, he knew almost every single one of them.

      “Well, this one right here clearly doesn’t understand the laws of gliding, as they clearly do not have a gliding license-”

      “I’ve been trying to tell you I have a license I must’ve just forgotten it! You can ask Amber she’s the one that did my test!” You were quick to explain yourself once again, accidentally cutting off the knight.

      “Don’t you dare interrupt me!” The knight reached around Diluc to push your shoulder, to which Diluc quickly shoved him back causing him to fall backwards.

      “Don’t fucking touch them. I’ll have you know, I know your Acting Grand Master quite well it would take no time at all to send her a letter of how poor you are at your job. You’re clearly new here, so i hope you enjoy getting your job stripped away as fast as you ‘earned’ it; if you could even say that.” The color completely drained from the knight’s face and they went to stand back up and quickly jogged away. With that Diluc quickly turned around to face you.

      “(Y/n) are you okay? Have you been hurt? I swear you should never trust any of the Knights they all-” Diluc was rambling, you’d never seen him this frantic before. It was almost kind of cute how he was almost as shaken up as you were as he looked you over for any injuries, even the smallest scrape.

      “Diluc, I am okay. Thank you for helping me.” On of Diluc’s gloved hands came up to cup your cheek as he brushed away the last few tears on your face with his thumb. Relief visibly flooded over him, before quickly going back to his usual stoic self. 

      “Well, I am glad I just happened to take the rest of the day off. This wasn’t exactly the way I was planning of surprising you with that but oh well.” A smile immediately lit up your face, causing Diluc’s to flush a light pink. 

      “Really?! That’s great I’m so excited! Wait... So are you really going to tell Acting Grand Master Jean about him?” Diluc let out a low chuckle.

      “I just might. I haven’t visited her office in quite some time either so I guess this does give me another excuse to take another day off from the tavern. And besides, a guy like him has no place in the Knights, he would’ve turned out to be a cocky power hungry fool. Now shall we get going?” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Second Best 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lee Bodecker

Summary: The newly-single sheriff sets his eye on an unexpected match.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stomp up the porch steps as your dad rocks in the wooden chair, in his usual meditation over a can of Molson. He grunts in his way, acknowledging your return and you shoot back a sharp, ‘hey’. Inside, your mother crochets in front of a soap opera, not looking over as she clacks her needles together. You know better than to try to start a conversation during her programs.

You go to your room behind the stairs and keep yourself from slamming the door. Greta always knows how to ruin your day. She might be right about being your only friend but maybe it’s time to make new ones. This town isn’t just the two of you.

You flop onto your bed sideways and stare at the ceiling. You can’t let her spoil the whole day off. That’s bullshit. What’s the point of spending hours caring about her nonsense. Tomorrow, you’ll be back to cleaning up hotel rooms and wishing you could just lay in bed and do nothing.

You sit up and shake off your agitation. A thorn sticks in your side but you try to ignore it. You could work on your embroidery. The Summer Solstice is coming and you might just talk yourself into sharing a booth with Hilde again. You sold quite a few patches last year.

You pull out your sewing kit and the box of half-finished patches and make a nest on the floor. You turn on the old CD player and listen to the same disc you always do. You set to work as you try to tune out the world.

You poke through the patch and jab into your fingertip. Shit. You growl as you wish you could stab Greta in her stupid little eyes. She’s such a bitch. You hope she has fun with that pig. She’ll be right back at The Horn scavenging for one night stands.

You’re not judging her, you’re judging this place. There really isn’t much to choose from. It’s the exact reason you have a vibrator hidden under your mattress. You’ve seen the men around here and you’ve talked to their girlfriends and wives.

You blow a raspberry and suck on your fingertip. There’s still a hint of vanilla on your skin. You drop your hand and lean back against the dresser.

Something’s gotta give. You’re so fucking bored of this town. There’s nothing to do. Greta just wants to drink and fuck around. If that’s what she enjoys, power to her, but you’re about to glaze over. You want something, anything to change.

🍦

You yawn as you walk up Thunder Lane towards the B&B. Another shift, another dollar. It’s minimum wage but better than nothing. You don’t have the education or the experience to demand more. Besides, the Odinsons aren’t bad employers. Usually you get a free meal or two.

You enter through the front door and greet Darcy as she droops over her coffee. She chirps as she sits up, startled by your sudden appearance. She relaxes as she realises you aren’t a guest or her employer.

You stop by the breakfast bar to grab a cup of your own before you head down to the laundry. You’ll try to catch up on the towels before check-out begins. There aren’t too many of those anyhow. Not yet. Midsommar usually draws in the tourists as a sort of novelty.

You load a washer and set it to spin as you restart a dryer left full from the day before. You give it ten minutes to fluff the towels and start folding. You sip your coffee between towels, drinking it away from the so you don’t stain the pure white.

You load up the cart with fresh towels in preparation for your daily route around the hotel. As you bend to grab some extra wash clothes, you’re started by a deep hum. You stand up straight and turn to face Thor as he looms in the doorway. Gods, he scared the piss out of you. How can a man that big sneak around like a cat?

“I heard there was a broken machine,” he drawls as he leans his elbow on the doorframe.

“Uh, yeah, that one again,” you point to the corner as you add the washcloths to the cart. You feel him watching you still.

“Ah,” he clucks, “and how are you today, lady?”

“Eh, just another day,” you shrug. “You?”

“Hm, as you said it. Another day,” he remarks, “we have a guest.”

“Oh?” You turn the cart around.

“In the Berkano suite,” he explains.

You nod, “right.” You mark the chart pinned to the handle of the cart.

“She is very demanding,” he muses, “from the city.”

“They usually are,” you give a tiny chuckle. You wish he wouldn’t stare at you like that, or that he’d at least move out of the way.

“Not like you village girls, eh?”

“I guess,” you furrow your brow.

“Mm, how’s Greta?” He winks.

“Fine, I don’t know,” you sniff and grab the handle of the cart, rolling it forward.

“My birthday’s coming up. Maybe she’d come?” He suggests.

“I don’t know,” you murmur as you stop, blocked from leaving by his burly form.

“You’re invited too, of course,” he grins and his eyes dip down for a moment, “is that a new apron?”

You have to hold back a scoff. You know better than to mess around with Thor Odinson. It’s more than just the Confucian philosophy of not shitting where you eat, it’s good sense. You’ve heard the stories. Aside from that, he’s a bit above your age range.

“Nope,” you answer flatly, “anyway, I should get started.”

“Well, are you coming? To my party?” He asks.

“I’ll see if I’m free,” you deflect.

“Bring Greta,” he slides out of the way, “and whoever you like. Any pretty girls you know.”

You bow your head to hide your disgust. You don’t think you’ll be feeding anyone to the wolves, especially not yourself. You pass through the door and feel a brush against your hip. You ignore it and roll down the hallway. You wouldn’t even hand over Greta to that beast, for more than the fact that she is excommunicated from your life.

[wondersofdreaming]

Keepsake

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader (3rd person)

Word count: 1.827

Warnings: Death, loss, hopelessness, light cursing, sadness, melancholy, grief, heartache, mourning.

Author’s note: This story was inspired by the song 'Everglow' by Coldplay.

Do me a favour and listen to the song, while reading this, I'll link to the different versions, depending on your mood.

Everglow (original) by Coldplay

Everglow (acoustic) by Coldplay

Everglow (instrumental) by Alexandre Pachabezian

The links are for Spotify, if they don't work try this link for YouTube

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the wife, son and Elijah Reed, who are figments of my imagination.

A massive, MASSIVE, thank you to my beloved angel, @radaofrivia, for giving me the idea from just a few thoughts, for sitting through with me while I wrote this, for giving me advice and for just being there.

Please check out her stories right here: RADA'S MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

(Young Syverson, picture credit to @killjoy-assbutt-1112 - find it here)

Oh, they say people come Say people go This particular diamond was extra special And though you might be gone And the world may not know Still I see you, celestial

Lyrics are from Everglow by Coldplay.

The looming grey clouds were moving closer towards him. He could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling thunder. Before long it started to rain and lightning lit up the entire house. The dirt road was flooded in no time, giving the crops the liquid nourishment they needed.

The former army captain was restless. It was on days like these he missed him, more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t sit still and had planned on working on the house, but the coming storm was putting a stop to that. Instead, he sat on the porch swing he built with Elijah when Lucas bought the house.

The Syversons had moved to their farm when Lucas was 4. A few days into the move, their neighbours had stopped by with some casserole, and to welcome them to their community. Mr and Mrs Reed also had a son who was a few months younger than Luc. Elijah had hidden behind his mother’s leg, a little shy, but with some encouragement he greeted Lucas.

“I’m Lucas, but my baby sister can’t say it yet, she keeps babbling Luc, so if it’s easier, you can call me Luc too.”

“I’m Elijah.”

Sy remembered he was trying so hard to pronounce his new friend’s name. He smiled at the memory, the name had been permanent in Lucas’ mind, only using Elijah, when he was mad at him or thinking he was about to do something stupid, which he did often.

“Lija, wanna play?” Lucas asked awkwardly.

“What?” Elijah looked profoundly confused. “I… don’t know.”

“Go on, son. It’s okay,” Mr Reed tried to encourage him.

“Come with me, Lija. I wanna show ya somethin’.”

Lucas had shown Elijah his new toy tractor that his parents had given him for his birthday. The two young boys had played together, and before long were inseparable.

A round yellow object in the palm of his hand. He was fiddling with it. The coin was always in his pocket, so he could keep his best friend close to him at all times. It was an old arcade coin that you could plot into any machine and play one game.

The two best friends had each gotten a dollar’s worth of coins, but the man at the ticket booth had miscounted, so Sy had gotten an extra coin, which the two friends had fought over during their time in the arcade. Lucas being the protector he was, lost to Elijah on purpose, so his friend won the coin.

“I’ll savour it, it’s going to be my lucky coin!” Elijah has announced.

Syverson swung the porch swing with his booted foot. He stared at the coin, wondering why he had been the lucky one. Luc shook his head faintly, his face full of pain and sorrow.

The coin became a thing that decided their fate. When the boys couldn’t agree on something, they would flip the coin. The picture side was heads and the text ‘No cash value’ side was tails. It might have been worth nothing, but it was a priceless item to the two friends.

“Heads: I ask her on a date, tails: you ask her,” Elijah flipped the yellow coin and covered the back of his hand as it landed. The two teenagers looked over at the brunette cheerleader, who was laughing with her friends. Prom was upon them and they both wanted to ask her. Elijah lifted his hand, it was heads.

The dumb coin was always on Elijah’s side. Lucas let out a soft laughter of the memory. Elijah’s face had been priceless, Sy wished he had taken a picture of it. It had been Elijah’s first kiss that night.

When Lucas decided to enlist, Elijah followed him, even with a lot of arguing against it from Sy’s side. He didn’t want his best friend anywhere near a warzone but in the end, he was glad that Lija was there with him through every hardship during training, when they lost people on their team, when they had to carry the dead back to base, it was better to have a friend by your side and share the pain with.

It didn’t take Syverson long to rank up and become captain. He ended up leading a large group of soldiers in a village in Iraq, with Elijah as his lieutenant, he felt like he could conquer the world.

During one of their trips home, Sy had bought a house he wanted to renovate, maybe start a family in. Elijah had spent every moment he could, helping Lucas with the house. It had made them closer as friends, and they had heartfelt talks about their future. Elijah wanted to come home and help his ailing parents with the farm, maybe get into breeding horses, preferably racehorses. Sy hadn’t thought of his future in that sense by then. He just wanted to relax, drink beer and ride his motorcycle.

There was hardly a moment in Lucas’ life where Elijah wasn’t a part of it. Elijah was his best friend, and if he had to be a little girly, they were BFFs. His best friend’s presence had made every moment special, made them better. It was the hardest part, to not have Elijah by his side anymore. He missed Elijah’s silly, huge and sometimes irritating grin, which somehow made the world seem a bit brighter during the dark times. Elijah made his life easier… he just made it better to have a friend to share everything with.

His heart had broken in a million pieces when the building collapsed on top of his best mate.

“Captain, we need a scouting team. I’m taking three soldiers towards those buildings and see if there are enemies up ahead,” Elijah had suggested.

“Lieutenant, I make the orders here. I’m going,” Lucas commanded.

“Heads or tails, Luc,” Elijah picked out the coin from his breast pocket.

“This is no time for such thing, Lija,” the captain grumbled.

“This is the perfect time, Luc. We promised that whenever we couldn’t agree on something, we would use the coin. So, heads or tails, captain Syverson.”

“Heads.”

The coin had landed on the tails side. Lucas had cursed the coin, fuck, shit, crap, dammit!

“It’s my turn to protect you, Luc. I’m not the scrawny little kid anymore, let me show you!”

Elijah had gathered three soldiers and run between two concrete buildings with a big smile on his face. Sy would never forget the smile. It was a grin of pride and determination. And it was the last time Lucas would ever see his best friend.

Moments later a huge explosion shook the ground they were standing on. Sy watched with horror as the buildings collapsed, trapping Elijah and his team. What they didn’t know then was that the impact with the concrete walls had killed him instantly.

The rest of the soldiers watched as their captain went on his knees. Utter despair and anguish plastered on his face, tears about to escape the corners of his eyes. The usual strict army captain, the man with the muscles, the tough guy who could break you with a stare, was breaking down.

“Lija…” he whispered into the dust-filled space, his voice breathless like somebody knocked the air out of his lungs.

At night he had screamed in pain of the loss of his most beloved friend. His days were filled with hopelessness as he prepared to fly home with Elijah’s corpse in a coffin. The nights only brought nightmares, so he started writing a letter to his best friend and thinking of how to tell Elijah’s parents.

“Dear Lija. I can’t believe you’re… Shit, I can’t even write the word. Just a four-letter word, and yet I can’t fucking write it down on a piece of paper. I wish I could have taken your place, man. It should have been me. I hate you for forcing me to pick a side on that stupid coin. I hate you for being so brave. I hate you for wanting to protect me. Fuck you for dying. Fuck you for leaving me. Here. All alone. What about your parents? How am I going to tell them that you’re… how am I going to face them? You are and will always be my best friend. I wish you could go back to your parent’s farm on your own two legs, not in a fucking box. I miss you, Lija. You’re the closest thing to a brother I will ever get. So rest in peace and keep the seat next to you warm, I’ll see you on the other side. - Luc.”

Lucas had sneaked the letter into Elijah’s breast pocket of his uniform before they had shut the coffin. The coin that Elijah had on him, had been put in a plastic bag with the rest of his belongings, prepped to be given to his next of kin, his parents. But Lucas took the yellow token. He needed a memento to remember his best friend by, something that he could keep with him always. A keepsake.

It had taken every ounce of courage for Lucas to step up to the front door of the Reed’s farmhouse. A house he was so familiar with and had so many adventurous sleepovers in Elijah’s space-themed bedroom. He could smell Mrs Reed’s famous peanut brittle, making it harder for him to knock, but he did it anyway. Standing there in his military uniform, he told the two people, who had acted as a second set of parents to him, that their only son had died heroically in battle. Lucas stood frozen, watching them mourn the loss of their son. He was about to step away to give them space, but Mrs Reed grabbed his wrist and brought him into the hug.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” he pleaded, his voice breaking slightly.

“Was he in pain?” Mrs Reed asked, breaking Lucas’ heart all over again.

“No, ma’am. It happened really fast.”

Sy fiddled with the arcade coin. Having zoned out the thunder, not noticing the storm had come and gone. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. It was a peaceful ending to an emotional day.

A loud wailing came from inside the house. The front door opened and out came his beautiful wife with their young son in her arms. His face was stained in tears. The tiny boy reached towards his father the minute he saw him. In his father’s arms was the only place the boy was happy and content. Sy’s face broke into a happy grin at the sight of his son. His tiny fingers trying to grab the coin in the former captain’s hand.

“This,” Sy showed it to his son, “will be yours when you’re old enough not to eat it.”

He chuckled at the frustrated look on the boy’s face. Sy kissed the top of his son’s head.

“I love you, Elijah.”

[aminiatureworld]

A Little Rest II

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,104 

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometimes life is just unbearably tiring. And a comforting shoulder can be the perfect substitute pillow. In which the reader falls asleep on their partner.

Author’s Note: Second part!!! I realize the first didn’t get a ton of traction, unfortunately, but hopefully, this’ll still be welcomed. I realize since most of these are basically pseudo fics, would you guys prefer it to be bullet-pointed or paragraphed? I’m just wondering if one format is easier or more pleasant to read than the other. 

Also, adepti’s rules and personal needs are kinda nebulous to me so I sort of made them up myself. Watches also weren’t a thing until the 1800s, and specifically didn’t really become a thing in China until the mid-20th century. But this is fantasy so I do what I want.

Xiao

You loved Xiao more than you could say. Every little moment spent with him made your heart flutter, every habit of his that you’d noticed, every little way he revealed his soul to you.

It seemed so improbable to you sometimes, than an adeptus, someone so very disconnected from the world of humans, should choose to love you. Although Xiao would never let you think you were any lesser than him, would never let his nature put you down, you were still somewhat in awe of the whole setup, and little reminders of his adepti status often brought you back to when you two had first begun to fall in love, when Xiao had explained that he didn’t quite understand the human way of life.

And one of those things that he didn’t understand appeared to be the concept of sleep itself.

It wasn’t that Xiao didn’t know what sleep was. Nor was he unable to sleep, he once told you. Theoretically he could sit down and take a nap much like any normal human. It was more that he didn’t need to sleep, and didn’t see the need to do something that took up so much time and left one so vulnerable.

Not that he didn’t pay attention to your needs; he wasn’t about to disrupt your sleep schedule on purpose, in fact you often joked that Xiao cared more about your rest than you did. It was only that, after spending so many years simply not thinking about things like sleep, it became hard for him to suddenly remember that he had a partner who needed said sleep every day. And a day was oh so short in Xiao’s mind.

It was a beautiful evening at the Wangshu Inn. The air was warm without being stifling and a breeze blew, light and cool. You were on the roof with Xiao, the place that had become your normal meeting spot. For as much as Xiao adored you with every fiber of his soul, he was still an adeptus, and his comfort level around most humans was that of an anxious cat – always ready to bolt.

Besides, the roof of the Inn was such a lovely place to relax. You gazed at Xiao’s profile as he looked up at the stars, noticing the way that the wind ruffled his hair slightly, the way his posture seemed so relaxed, so comfortable. One of his hands was clasping yours, fingers linked together, his palm nice and warm; the other pointed out constellations to you, each bearing a story, some which had long been forgotten by the residents of Liyue.

It wasn’t often that Xiao was so talkative, so open. Although he still barely mentioned his past – keeping that part of himself shut away with only the occasional crack through which you might learn of his sorrows – he’d become much more willing to disclose his everyday thoughts to you, as well as share stories that he knew. The latter was something you always loved to listen to, not just because the stories he told were always interesting and so full of life, but also because they gave you the sense of knowing him better, something that always made you happy.

Unfortunately, tonight was one night where, though you were more than happy to listen to Xiao talk about the stars, you were kind of dying of fatigue. A headache slipped in and out of your consciousness, and you found it more and more difficult to concentrate on Xiao’s words, finding they were all melting together into some semi-coherent monologue.

Your fatigue must’ve been very apparent, for when Xiao glanced over at you his whole demeanor changed; the carefree look on his face was gone, replaced with one of slight confusion and definitive worry. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You shook your head. “Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Then you should rest.” Xiao squeezed your hand slightly before moving to stand up. However, as tired as you were, you cared more about spending time with him, and weren’t about to cut said time short.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, causing Xiao to pause, looking at you in a puzzled way. You smiled, slightly sheepish, but pressed forward. “I’ll be fine. If you don’t mind though, may I, uh, may I lay my head on your shoulder.” You gazed up at him, but inside you were struck with the urge to suddenly look away. Xiao was still a bit reticent with affection, not that it bothered you. He’d told you that he was simply unused to it, not averse to it. You weren’t about to pressure him into anything though, no matter the cause, and thus you waited for his response, hoping your expression conveyed that it’d be perfectly fine if he declined.

Your worries proved to be without ground however, for Xiao’s expression grew only fonder. Lying back down he gestured towards you. You gladly scooted closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder, hand once more in his. “You were saying about the boar constellation.” You murmured.

Xiao smiled, kissing the top of your head, before once more going on speaking about the stars. You smiled too, allowing his stories to carry you off to sleep, your head already swirling with half formed dreams about creatures who walked among the stars.

Xiao listened to your breathing even out, still talking a little after it seemed you’d dozed off, making sure that the sudden stop of his voice didn’t wake you up.

Gazing down at your peaceful face he pondered for a moment how much his life had changed so quickly. Even a month ago the idea that he would become friends with a human seemed impossible, much less that he would fall in love with one.

When he’d first met you it was as if something that had been frozen inside him for a long time began to thaw. He was terrified at first, terrified of you, terrified of himself, terrified of the unknown that loomed before him like a vast chasm. It had taken every ounce of courage to hold your hand at first, and every ounce of courage for every step after that.

But he would do it again if he had to, for being with you was the best part of his long, often cruel life. And he would do anything to protect you, anything to make sure you were comfortable and happy and healthy.

“Goodnight.” He spoke softly. Up above the stars kept silent vigil along with him. Tomorrow would be a bright new day, but for now he was simply going to enjoy the moment he’d been given with you.

 Zhongli

For someone who’d lived thousands of years, you’d think Zhongli would remember that tea had to be decaffeinated sometimes.

Not that you could really blame him for forgetting. After all it’s not like he needed to pay attention to whether or not his tea was caffeinated. To one of the Seven sleep was something more akin to a perk than a necessity. Sure, it was nice to sleep. But it’s not like Zhongli was going to feel regret if he accidentally downed five cups of tea right before midnight and spent the rest of night starting at the ceiling, wondering where he went wrong.

Unfortunately, you were definitively not a god, and did, in fact, need sleep. So, when you found yourself staring out the window at 5 am, having long come to the conclusion that sleep was just not going to happen, the emotion going through your mind was something more akin to: “Oh. Fuck.”

This turned into an “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” when you saw the list of your daily commissions. Yeah, someone had to go to Jueyun Karst and Qingyun Peak to collect Cor Lapis, and considering your relationship with Zhongli and the adepti it should’ve been unsurprising that you were going to be the one to do it. But your sleep addled brain was having a difficult time processing things logically, and all you saw when you looked at the list Katheryne gave you was the fact that today was going to hurt.

Your prediction turned out to be only too true. No adepti came to ask why you were mining outside their front doors – honestly what would you even respond to something like that – but the amount of treasure hunters that ran into you began to feel less like a likely coincidence, considering the location, and more like a targeted attack. Thankfully there was nothing you couldn’t handle, but by the end of your expedition you were more than ready to go home and take a nap.

Hurrying through the rest of your day, barely responding to the people you interacted with, by the time you’d finally finished up with your adventuring duties you felt like the most irritated person on the planet.

Arriving home, throwing your pack haphazardly onto the floor you almost tripped and fell flat on your face in your hurry to get to the bedroom. Not bothering to take off your adventuring gear you threw yourself onto the bed and quickly found yourself lost in long overdue sleep.

Zhongli glanced at his watch, frowning as he saw the lateness of the hour. The sun was already beginning to set, and though he’d walked as fast as possible, he still found himself feeling vaguely guilty about being so late. You two hadn’t spoken much in the morning, you’d seemed a bit restless and hurried out right after breakfast, so Zhongli was anxious to spend as much time with you after work as possible.

“Darling?” He called out, walking into the home you two shared. He glanced around uncertainly, surprised that you hadn’t greeted him at the door. The sight of your pack sprawled about the hallway only made him more confused, and vaguely alarmed, and he hurried down the hall, checking each room to see if you were there.

His worry immediately faded upon seeing you, curled up above the covers, evidently fast asleep. Unsure as to whether or not to wake you up he instead headed towards the kitchen, thinking you might like something when you got up.

You woke up in the dark, something that surprised you. You’d been out for a long time. Seeing that the door had been opened you shuffled down the hall, still a bit groggy from the extended nap you’d just taken.

Zhongli smiled as you entered the kitchen. “Did you have a good nap my darling?” He asked, kissing you on the forehead. You nodded sleepily, propping yourself up by your elbows on the counter. Zhongli chuckled. “Here, something to warm you up.”

Yours eyes widened as the cup of tea was placed in front of you. For a moment there was silence, then you glanced back at him.

“Zhongli?”

“Yes?”

“Uhm, is this tea, well, does it by any chance have caffeine in it?”

The look on Zhongli’s face was enough to make you burst into giggles. Perplexion melted into realization, which evidently caused some sort of embarrassment, for the former god blushed a bright shade of red before bringing his hand to cover his mouth.

“Ah, I see. That’s why you were so tired this morning.”

“It’s alright.” You finally replied, the initial fit of giggles having passed. “I know that you don’t have to think about these sorts of things normally. Only me making the same mistake two times in a row would be a bit hilarious, wouldn’t you think” You placed a kiss on Zhongli’s cheek, finally causing him to calm down a bit.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry. Next time I promise to pay more attention.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, fatigue coming back after the initial burst of energy. Leaning into Zhongli’s neck you sighed slightly.

“Still tired?” Zhongli asked, voice soft and caring.

“Yeah, a bit.” You admitted. Zhongli nodded, before scooping you up.

Carrying you over to the couch you both settled in a bit. Zhongli began humming a sort of lullaby, and you smiled despite yourself. “You’re too good for me.” You mumbled.

“Nonsense.” Came Zhongli’s reply, just as full of love and affection. “You’re too good for me. And I won’t hear otherwise.”

“If you say so.” You replied, too tired to really fire back, already drifting off.

“I do. It’s only the truth.” And with that he began to hum again. As you fell asleep one last thought lingered in your mind.

If such contentment comes from staying up too late, then I’d be glad to do it again.

[cheelduh]

How to strike your way into someone’s heart (Highschool AU)

Part 2 to this. Can be read alone!

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing I mean what do you expect they’re all teenagers. Lots of brick slapping. Childe clowns Scaramouche. OH YES this isn’t edited at all lmfao have fun.

Synopsis: It’s your big date with Childe after you lost the bet miserably. You decide to pay the occult club a visit in hopes of finding something that can...ease your concerns. Childe on the other hand has Signora give him a friendly piece of advice, believe it or not. 

Note: SRY THIS TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH

For as long as you can remember, you've never believed in ghosts, demons, or souls that lose their way in the endless void, forced to roam the earth in repentance.

Believing in the unknown takes creativity, adventure, maybe even a little sense of fear. Scratch that—a shitton of fear, because humans love to weave in their insecurities and inability to explain something into something of a phenomenon.

Bad luck lies in this category. Bad luck is simply a way to justify the catastrophe that one cannot admit they have fabricated themselves. Everyone wants a reason as to why shit hits the fan, and it can be anything but their own fault.

Bad luck is nothing but a load of bull to you. That's totally why you're standing outside the calculus classroom during lunch break, which happens to be the official meet spot for the occult club.

You raise a fist to knock, but then falter, thinking over your options once again. Is this what it has come to? Putting your faith into the weird kids that once tried to summon Schrödinger's cat for the physics final.

Fischl kicks the door wide open, a smirk playing at her lips once she spots you. "One cannot refrain from the song of your cogitation. The feline for which thou dwell on—"

A squeak leaves your throat and you flinch back, cutting her off. "You can read my mind?"

"Fischl," An icy eyed boy shows up from behind her and points a thumb back. "Mona needs your help."

Fischl squints at you for a brief moment, and then spins onto her heel to go back into the room.

The blue haired lower class man, Chongyun you guess, narrows his eyes at you. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Finally you manage to speak, palms all sweaty. "Yeah uh, I need your help. You know, with occulty things." You use your hands to articulate your thoughts, but ultimately give up.

You're not sure if it's pity towards your pathetic explanation or simply annoyance, but Chongyun widens the opening. He silently gestures for you to follow.

Stumbling on your feet and putting on your big girl pants, you hurry inside of the room, hoping you aren't seen by Beidou. She wouldn't let you hear the end of this.

The temperature instantly drops, and you have to adjust your sight to navigate. There's heavy incense in the air as well as a a few lighted candles from the dollar store, you guess.

Sitting smack dab in the middle of all the demonic markings is Mona, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Chongyun has made his way next to her, crossing his arms with a sigh, and Fischl is busy cooing at her bird.

"Well well well..." Mona's amused, eyes almost twinkling as she gets up from the poor desk that had to suffer the wrath of her ass. "If it isn't Y/N."

Mona is a glorified dick wiper in your books. One time, she partnered up with you in chemistry last year and refused to do any work because apparently her "star sign" said she was incompatible with science. You haven't forgiven her since.

"I need your help." You barely manage to choke out the words, reigning yourself in by clenching your fists instead. It'll be unethical to claw her face, especially since you're the one who's come to her.

"Oh?" She smiles wickedly, revelling in every moment of this no doubt. "Why would the high and mighty Y/N need help from the 'Whoroscope whore'?"

Fischl nearly slips out a laugh, trying with her upmost ability to refrain from rolling all over the floor.

You blink away your tears of almost-laughter, casually sliding in twenty mora across the table dividing you two. If she's a whoroscope whore like you say she is, she'll definitely put it in her bra.

Mona raises a brow, but her eyes linger on the bill for a second too much. "What makes you think I'll do it for money?"

"That's simple," You say, rolling your eyes. "When you see mora, you cling to it like a baby clings to a tit. Now just take it and solve my issues."

She fumes a litany of curses but snatches the money up anyways.

"What do you want?"

You breathe in, then out. "I need a talisman."

Mona raises a brow, hand on her hip. "I'm sorry. Did I get that right?"

How dare she. You will your eye into not twitching, the beginnings of fire thrumming through your veins, scalding hot. How dare she make me repeat myself.

"You know, the thing to fend off evil spirits," Your statement hangs heavy in the air as the cogs in their brains click into place. "I need one that can remove the most evilest thing times ten to the power of twenty five on this planet."

Everyone immediately thinks of Hu Tao.

Chongyun is the first to speak from an area of expertise, seemingly shocked at your words. "Are you sure you want a talisman that powerful? How bad is the evil spirit you've come across?"

You glance out the window, through the semi-open blinds. The apprehension curls in your stomach once you spot Childe chasing Aether with safety scissors, and you've never been more sure of than anything in your life.

Gulping, you turn back to the exorcist. "I'm 110% sure."

He doesn't ask any more questions and goes to fetch the talisman.

Mona clears her throat. "So I hear you have a date with Childe today. Quite the character you've taken to."

"Oh please," You hiss through your teeth, your blood pressure going up tenfold, "you're the one that told him our star signs were intertwined and that we're fated lovers."

She shrugs innocently, stance casual unlike your own that is ready to lunge an attack.

"Here you are," Chongyun hands you a talisman, a colourful mix of some charms, some kind of liquid in a bottle, and about a shitton of other things. "You'll need these if you're going to face the most demonic of all evils."

You think of Childe's stupidly handsome smirk, the playful life of his eyes, and how gentle and considerate he is with you. You think about how cruel he is to others, but how loving he can be to you.

"Oh, I will be."

—

Childe is getting his ass handed to him by Scaramouche on the switch. It's just that he can't seem to focus, not with the forthcoming date all over his mind.

He hasn't experienced these kind of jitters in a long time. Has to endure that foolish smile that's about to plaster all over his face.

Scaramouche may be a son of a bitch with an agenda, but he doesn't appreciate his acquaintances safeguarding their personal crap when it starts to leak onto him. Especially when it comes to video games.

"Okay," The short boy sighs, stretching over the staff room sofa to drop his controller on the cushions. "Let's hear it." He can't even properly enjoy his victories when Childe isn't giving it his all.

"Hear what?" Childe lays his head back, relaxing from all the strain of endless gaming during the lunch hour. He seems too relaxed for someone who's broken into the teacher's lounge.

"Why you're so distracted." Scaramouche points out. "Not that I care—hey! I'm serious here!"

Childe's cracking up for absolutely no reason, rudely cutting him off. "I'm sorry—sorry it's just so hard to take you seriously when you're wearing that stupid fucking hat."

"Don't question the drip." The older moves his head to glare at him, but the thin stripe of silk on his hat swooshes with him, and it's enough to have Childe clutching his stomach in pain as he barks out in laughter.

"Grow the fuck up." Scaramouche says, no doubt exasperated from the constant shit he gets.

"Ok—ok I'm sorry."

There's a knock on the door before Scaramouche gets the chance to intimidate him again.

"Fuck shit fuck who is that? Wasn't there a staff meeting?" Childe whisper yells, panic clear in the ocean of his eyes.

Scaramouche shrugs and downs a can of soda with no care in the world.

Childe would be nonchalant too. If it were a normal day, he wouldn't give two shits about getting caught.

However, he's looking forward to that date he has with you today. Detention is going foil all his lecherous plans.

"It's me." The feminine sound of a threat calls out from the other side. "Open the door." The clicks and clacks of her toes tapping the floor indicating her impatience.

The two sigh in relief, Childe getting up to open the door. It's way too early in the afternoon to deal with this crap.

"Surprised to see me?" Signora greets sweetly, and if not for the murderous glint in her eyes, he would smile back.

"Yeah, I didn't say Bloody Mary three times." The ginger replies, keeping a steady eye on the upperclassman in case she pulls a fast one.

The blonde shoves him aside in offence, and prances in like she owns the goddamn place. Scaramouche greets her with the bird.

"There's this rumour going around—I'm sure you've heard..."

"Oh?" Childe pockets his keys, ready for an attack, not even remotely interested in the topic.

"Something about how Y/N gave Mona a visit today" Signora muses, elegantly taking a seat on the arm of the couch, "with your date and all, I just thought you should know."

"Hah!" Scaramouche bursts out in laughter, tears in the corner of his eyes. "I can't believe she went to get a horoscope reading on how shitty your date's gonna be."

"Get castrated." Childe growls, flipping him off on both hands.

"Now now boys," Signora's lips curl, and she clasps both manicured hands together, prepared to break the fight if it ever reaches its peak. "Settle down. You two are comrades."

"As if I'm comrades with this SIMP!" Scaramouche has to wheeze out the words.

The youngest clenches his fists, unclenches, and then lets a smirk grow. "Oh? I'm the simp? What about that time Mona pantsed you in-front of all the freshmen and you fell in love with her."

Scaramouche glares at him, a glare strong enough to have anyone shaking in their shoes. "I'm attracted at her sheer audacity of trying to fuck I, Scaramouche, the 8th harbinger, over. It takes balls."

"Mad respect." Signora leans forward to place her phone on the coffee table, then approaches Childe. "Moving on, the reason I've decided to bestow my precious intel on you is because I have a favour to ask of you."

"What?" He says blankly, confused that she has a request for him out of all people.

"I need you to let me get you ready for this date of yours." She gives him a gaze that is enough to wither away any arguments.

Childe shares a look with Scaramouche as if to say "am I fucking deaf because I sure as shit didn't just hear that."

"You sure as hell did, boys." Signora intercepts the connection of their two brainwaves with a dreaded sigh. "I hate Y/N. This is the only way I can get back at her."

"Hey!" Childe exclaims loudly, waving his hands in the air incessantly. "What makes you think I'll let you shit on my future girlfriend."

"I'll be doing nothing of the sorts." She points out, giving him a sly smile. "I just know she's terrified of what's coming. The better the date is, the more she's gonna hate herself. What more do I need but to sprinkle some inner conflict within her airtight resolve?"

As favorable as the proposal is, Childe  contemplates for a second. Signora...helping him? This could work to his advantage if he plays his cards right.

His inner turmoil takes him into the future, where you two are happily married with eight and a half kids. If you ever managed to find out Signora was the culprit that was finally able to set you two up, you'd never forgive him.

"Nah I'll take a hard pass." He doesn't want to think about divorce and custody battles this early on. He'd rather face the brunt of Signora's wrath.

Scaramouche chooses right then to make a tactical withdrawal out through the window since he doesn't want to be a witness to a murder he hasn't caused.

Surprisingly— "Fine then." Signora shrugs, unbothered when summoning out a minty juul from no where. She's disappointed nonetheless.

Childe tilts his head, perplexed, but decides against mulling over it for too long. Instead, he strides off to the door, wanting to get the last two periods over with so he can run home and freshen up for this date.

"Oh and Childe?" Signora calls out to him, but he barely acknowledges her, only pausing momentarily without looking back. "A piece of friendly advice. A diligent student like Y/N, there's no way she'd be into rash things like fighting. So try and control yourself, hmm?"

He flashes the senior a sheepish smile, the front row tickets to the illegal underground fight-club burning in the back pocket of his pants.

—

Childe conceals near the bushes by the gate, expertly hiding his shaking hands by pretending to look for something in his back. His goal isn't to seem desperate, even though he's raced out here at the speed of light after Havria's dismissal.

It's not like he's trying to eavesdrop or anything. He just wants a little insight on how you're feeling about this, in case the rumors of you visiting the occult club wasn't a farce.

From his peripheral, he spots you and a familiar figure that is Lisa, leisurely walking side by side as you approach the main side walk.

"Ready for your date, Y/N? You've been daydreaming all afternoon." Lisa winks, and dodges the shove you send her way with experience like no other.

"Yes, daydreaming about punching you in the face." Your left eye twitches in annoyance as you fix your hold on your skateboard.

"Well then, I'll be off—ah!"

The gorilla grip you have on her sleeve takes away all the time she has to get on the last bus she's about to miss.

Your utter strength is enough to make Childe's knees weak. How pathetic he thinks.

"Oh no you don't," You say in a sing-song voice, "you got me into this, so you're going to help."

"Help with what?" Lisa fakes a hard pout as she bats her lashes, trying to collect pity points.

"I—" You inhale, loosening your grip on her and averting your eyes nervously to see if anyone's watching. "Don't make me say it."

The older girl motions for you to continue, and you're sure you've suffered more for less at this point.

"I've never...been on a..." The sentence ends in a trailed murmur.

Childe doesn't think he's ever seen you so flustered. He's about to snap a picture for later, but decides against it. They'll be plenty of moments later on to see your cute expressions.

Lisa's grin is both seductive and terrifying, Childe notices. "You've never been on a date?"

"Shut up!" You hiss, dropping your board so you can cover her lips with your palm, eyes darting around your surroundings frantically. "Not so loud."

He has to bite at his fist to hide his amusement.

As if she has a sixth sense, Lisa's eyes somehow find Childe's through the abundance of leaves, and there's a glint in her eyes that nearly makes him shart his pants.

"Of course Y/N," She replies sweetly to you, who is currently unaware of the staring match going on. "I'll teach you everything you need to know...and more."

Childe doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing. Nor does he want to find out.

—

You ponder on what's taking him so long, more on edge than you usually are. Thankfully, Lisa basically pried your hair down from its usual up-do. Said something about how you can hide your lack of shits given as to not offend him.

Except you think you're giving more shits that you expected to. Why else would your heart be pounding so hard?

"What took you so long?" You sense him creeping up on you, ceasing his chance to pounce.

Childe groans playfully and slaps a hand over his face as he comes into view. "How'd you know?"

"You have a douche-styled gait." You reply as you remove your gaze off your phone to approach him.

He's prepared to shoot a witty reply, but it dies halfway through his throat when he procures a good look at you. Your hair frames your face elegantly, eyes shining despite the tiredness that's so clear, all complete with a cooling spring dress that hugs you just right.

Mouth going dry, he forgets how to speak the common tongue, unable to tear his gaze off your form.

You shift in place awkwardly. "Uh are you okay? Looking a little...blank."

"Sorry—sorry just thinking." Childe stumbles over his words like the complete idiot and a half he is, berating himself countlessly on the inside. He regains his confidence once he spots the light dust on your cheeks. "You ready for the best date ever?"

"The best date huh?" It's the first time you smile today, and he swears his heart leaps in his rib cage. You're the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on. "I'm ready. I better not be disappointed."

"I wouldn't dare disappoint, girlie." He feigns mock offence as dramatically as possible. "I'll show you how to have some real fun. Cool keychain by the way, for good luck?"

It's one of the charms Chongyun urged you to carry with you at all times to keep all forms of evil away.

"Yeah...something like that."

The two of you ease into the walk in a relatively comfortable fashion, contributing with lively chatter and a few jabs here and there. It's not awkward at all, not like you thought it would be. Your nerves loosen up, mind diverting from the roots of the stress of high school.

"—And you won't believe what Kaeya did the other day. I'm telling you there's something wrong with him because that SoundCloud rapper wannabe Venti goaded him into birdboxing through the hallways at lunch."

"And the son of a bitch did it?"

"The son of a bitch did it." Childe confirmed, gasping through his laughs as the two of you converse in psychobabble. "And guess who he bumped into?"

You're choking in laughter, tears in your eyes as you hunch over and shake. "He didn't. Childe—no he didn't."

"Straightttt into Diluc. And he had the balls to feel him up because he thought he bumped into a hot bab—"

Childe crashes into a sturdy chest and stumbles backwards towards you, but manages to catch his balance midway. Both of you freeze when faced with a buff guy from another school, bandages on his fist and a crooked smirk on his face.

Fuck. You think. Classic high school cliché.

Realizing he can't risk the remainder of this date when it hasn't even begun, Childe raises a hand in apology, aiming to be the bigger person instead of socking the kid in the face.

"Sorry. I wasn't looking." He offers to the guy, but you can tell he isn't buying any of it. There are about four more kids who group, a setup that isn't going to end in your favour.

"Hey punk. You don't remember me?" The upperclassmen barks out, glaring holes into your date.

You deadpan towards Childe, but he's too is racking his brain to remember. Ends up shrugging with no recollection.

"I have a list of names but they're in my other pants." Shit, what an a-grade reply. Now you know you're done for. "Listen dude, I'm kind of on a date and the vibe is going great. Don't ruin it."

"It's a good thing she's here to watch then!" The guy yells, stomping so that he's right in-front of Childe, ready to pounce. "You humiliated me in front of my gang last week. I'm here to rip you a new one."

Childe blinks, tries to remember, and when he doesn't, he grabs a wad full of cash from the his Fanny pack and throws it at the guy's feet.

Everyone's eyes bulge out of their sockets, including yours at the amount of money placed there casually on the crack of the dirty sidewalk.

"Hopefully this is enough for the damages." Childe offers, aiming to not further escalate the situation albeit how pissed he is right now. If you weren't here...well that would be another, much more violent story.

With a soft tug, Childe brings you close and begins to pass the guy, until he's abruptly stopped by a hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

"I don't think so!" The guys barks, and his lackeys move to surround you two. "You gotta pay taxes too buddy." Oh he's getting way too comfortable now.

A feral smile grows on Childe's face as he looks over his shoulder. "Oh?"

"Yeah shithead." The guy seethes, puffing out his chest to size him up.

Childe itches for a fight. He can no longer keep in the urge and is just about ready to raise a heavy fist, but is beaten by the sound of a loud thwack, and then a painful groan following.

There you are, standing in front of the trembling asshole, spinning your crossbody bag in circles like it's a nunchuck in all it's glory. There's a deadly glint in your eyes, pure, unadulterated vexation in your features.

If Childe could fall for you any harder, it's probably happening now. In that exact moment, his heart beats in his ears uncontrollably, and there's nothing but raw adoration that piles up all at once.

You're an angel of destruction, a force not to be reckoned with, and shit, you're the eye of the fucking storm.

Fire courses through your veins as you pulverize the guy with your bag, swinging with such expertise it has Childe in awe. "He may be an absolute idiot for not remembering—"

"Hey girlie you're killing me here!" Your date snaps out of his astonishment temporarily.

"—but you don't get to call him a shithead, you asshole!" You snarl angrily, gripping the handle of your bag tightly, decking everyone that lunges at you, letting out strings of curses with every hit. Every hit sends a flock of them either stumbling back in pain, or knocked out completely.

Childe doesn't even get a chance to lift a finger by the time you're done violating them with your heavy ass pink bag. Stands there like an absolute loser.

"Apologize." You pant, prepared to send another flurry of attacks at the leader, who is crawling away with a battered face. "Apologize or I'll—I'll fucking Russian neck tie your ass."

"S-sorry!" The guy whimpers out and tries not to piss his pants at the threat.

Childe is still in too much shock at the whole ordeal to reply, short circuiting.

Another thirty seconds pass until he registers the smaller hand waving in front of his face. He catches your cold hand through his haze, brings it closer.

Running a free hand through his locks, he doesn't hide his astonishment. "You're fucking gorgeous, girlie." He whistles lowly, eyeing you with a new kind of regard.

"I-I uh." Your face is all shades of red by now, the adrenaline from kicking ass wearing down. "Let's go."

"How is that bag so heavy?" One of the fallen gasps out in pain, clutching his ribs as he trembles on the floor. "Like a buh-brick."

A part of your zipper in open, and Childe briefly peeks out of morbid curiosity. His jaw slackens. "Is that a...no, it can't be."

"It's a brick." You murmur guiltily, gnawing at your bottom lip. "Just in case." Fingers tentatively play with the straps.

Childe is head over heels by now, all smitten as a foreign warmth bubbles up in his throat, and he's just about sure he'll puke his heart out.

His next words are picked out carefully. "There's an underground fight club going on—"

You lock and aim for his right kidney.

Worth a try, Childe thinks.

"SIKE. Joking—joking. Just a joke." He insists, gloved hands raised by his ears in defence.

Clicking your tongue, you scowl and rush past him.

It hasn't even been an hour and it's been the most exciting date Childe's ever experienced. When he sees your lips twitch, he knows it's the same for you as well.

"Are we going or not?" You mumble, avoiding eye contact, a tinge of red still decorating your cheeks.

Childe crumbles into his hands at your deadly duality. One that comes for his enemies and one that comes straight for his heart.

[divinerulerluvr]

Show Me How

Summary - You run away with Warren Lipka after getting proposed to by your long time boyfriend

Pairing - Warren Lipka x Fem!reader

A/N - Since i have a lot more Warren lovers than i thought following me, i figured i should do a fluff thing to keep you guys fed. No warnings for this one, just fluff :) Also, i feel like we've all imagined running away with our comfort characters one time or another so you cant lie to me and say this isn't romantic.

- - -

Rain hit the roof loudly, making a soft ambiance outside the cracked window of Warren’s apartment. Laying in his bed, his hands travel my warm skin, his lips pressing butterfly kisses all down my neck and collarbone.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he compliments, his lips grazing my skin. I hum softly in response, my fingers threading through his messy hair.

The past few weeks I had been seeing Warren in secret. I had to keep it a secret due to the fact I’m in a serious relationship with another guy. Warren made me feel alive in all the right ways. He made me feel like I had been missing so much the past year and a half I’ve been dating Jack.

Of course I felt bad about cheating. It was always in the back of my mind whenever I was with Jack. But Warren was also always in my mind. I found it hard to stop thinking about him anymore.

Warren lays back on the bed, pulling me into his arms. “You have to break up with him,” he says, throwing me off guard. “Hm?” I hum in response, looking up at him. “Jack. You have to break up with him,” Warren clarifies.

I sigh, my eyes falling off of his. “I know,” I admit shyly, my finger drawing small circles on his chest. “I’ll do it tonight,”

-

Sitting nervously on the couch of Jack’s apartment, waiting for him to come home from work.

He finally enters the apartment, a smile spreading on his lips when he sees me. “Hi, baby,” he greets, running his fingers through his hair as he walks up to me. “We need to… to talk,” I say nervously, standing from the couch.

“Yeah, we do,” Jack agrees but in a tone that sounded more excited than it should’ve been. I have a feeling we aren’t on the same page here.

“Y/n, we’ve been dating for almost two tears now and I think it’s time to go to the next level,” Jack says. We had already moved in together a few months back. That means the next level would be something I can’t even bring myself to say.

My heart stops when he gets down on one knee. He pulls a ring out of his pocket and I feel my eyes widen. “Y/n, will you marry me?” he asks.

My first thought was no. But that’s too harsh. I mean, Jack is a nice guy. He deserves more than a short and rude ‘no’ as an answer. And fuck, that ring looks too expensive to just deny. This was too soon and we’re too young.

What I want is Warren. No matter how mean or cold that may sound. If I was going to spend the rest of my life with someone, it’d be him. Warren gives me adventure. He’s so wild and spontaneous all the time.

You never know what you’re getting yourself into when you’re with him.

He cares so much about me and it's just so fun being with him. He doesn’t allow a boring and monotonous life. With Warren, I feel like a teenager rebelling against my mother again.

“Can I think about it?” I answer after a suspenseful silence. Jack nods, standing from his knee. “Take as much time as you’d like,” he says, kissing my cheek before walking out of the room and heading down the hallway. I hear the shower turn on and use this as my opportunity to pack up my things. Once everything I need was in a simple backpack, I write a note and put it on the counter.

‘I’m sorry but this won't work. You deserve someone better than me. Sincerely, Y/n’

Sneaking out of the apartment, I jog downstairs and out into the dark of the night. It was still raining but it had calmed down to a light drizzle. Walking down the sidewalk, my mind races as I try to think about my next move.

I had just left my almost two-year-long boyfriend over some guy I’ve been seeing for not even a month.

Arriving at Warren’s apartment building, I use a key he had given me to get inside of the lobby. I get into the elevator and click on his floor. My heart beats in my ears as I walk down the hallway and stop in front of his door.

With a deep breath, I knock three times.

The door opens, Warren’s eyes meeting mine. I can tell he notices the red that lines my eyes when his brows furrow. “Y/n. What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks right away, confusion riddling his face as he stands in the doorway.

“Let’s run away together,” I say, fully aware of how bizarre my words sounded. “What?” is all he says in response. “Jack proposed and I said I’d think about it. But it’s not what I want, Warren. I’m twenty-five, I need to be free for longer,” I respond, a pleading look on my face.

“And you just left him?”

“I left a note,” I shrug, hoping he’ll agree. He stays silent for a moment, a perplexed look in his dark eyes. “Come on, Warren. I came here because you’re the king of spontaneous ideas. Let’s run away to New York and start over. Me and you,”

“Where would we even stay?” he asks.

“I have more money saved than I thought,” I tell him with a weak smile. His face softens and he eventually nods. “Give me five minutes,” he says, leaning in and kissing me quickly before disappearing back into his apartment.

He comes back with a bag and the keys to his car. “Let’s go,” he grins.

We walk down to his car, getting in and pausing for a second. I turn to face him, my lips pressed together nervously. “You sure you wanna do this?” Warren asks, wanting to make sure this wouldn’t be a regret of mine.

I just nod, smiling softly as our eyes stay locked. He leans over the center console, his hand resting on my cheek as he kisses me gently. I gladly kiss back, matching his slow and passionate tempo.

His hand runs down my jawline as he pulls back from me, his eyes studying my face. “Where to, darling?” he asks. I chuckle softly, feeling heat rush up to my cheeks at the pet name.

“New York City,”