#He cares so much- and its not even that he may be very fond of us

[cloudstarcats]

YOU WERE WRITING POETRY IN MY REBLOGS BRO. I SEE YOU!!! I SEE YOU!!!

ajsdkashdkjahsdkja yeah lol, I love ur post and thinking about ratio's love for humanity/life vs his desire to be recognized for his genius makes me sentimental af about him,,,

the push and pull of wanting to test the limits of the universe that he holds back not because he doesn't think he could accomplish it but because to do so would shatter the line he has drawn between his own self and the life he wants to keep out of harms way. Is is so much of a doctor, knowing that he could push past the boundaries of humanity yet to do so would discard the very thing he swore back when he first learned medicine, "Practice two things in your dealings with disease: either help or do not harm the patient"

And he is such a man of principle, a man who sticks to what he believes to be true, to himself, that to cross that line and break that oath would render him the greatest fool in the universe.

And it must weigh on him some nights, like all choices weigh on a person, when he thinks of a way to solve a problem but knows that to do so would cost him his entire sense of self. To wonder why he can not be like the other geniuses, who create so much, but then to almost be upset with himself for even thinking that to be like them would be better, to disregard the feelings of others, to put yourself on a pedestal above the crowd in a way that is done not to be a leader but to be separated, divorced, from the public-

Herta does not teach on her space ship, she leaves her scientists to think of her as their own god, to worship her- Ruan Mei leaves her sentient creations behind, she tests them with knives when she knows they can feel pain-

Ratio could never do such a thing. Ratio spends his time as a teacher, though he is seen as the professor many want to avoid- there is no doubt that he teaches. He shares his knowledge, he provides a space for growing minds- he is not harsh because he does not care, he is not harsh because he sees his students as beneath him- he is harsh because they are students, and to learn is to struggle; to not be hard, to not push them, he sees that as his failure.

How could I ever hate him? How could I hate a man who does a job that perhaps harder then just spending his days on trips and researching in a lab- how could I hate a man who years to cure ignorance because he truly wants to improve the world, how could I hate a man who loves so deeply that it is the sole reason he will never be recognized by Nous; the being who has no room for caring in it, who will never cast his gaze on Veritas Ratio, though the man has done enough to deserve it.

How could I ever hate him? He who welcomes anyone willing to learn, who encourages thought, who cares. So much. And who suffers for it, in his mind, unaware that what he lacks is minimal to what he has; his burning love for life.

[cepheustarot]

Random facts about your future spouse

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: Your future spouse is younger than you, but by nature very responsible and mature, quite reasonable and soberly looks at life, objective and honest, not one of those who hides the truth, can sometimes be too straightforward. They may look harsh, cold and unapproachable, but next to you they are very gentle, romantic and caring. This person is very fond of arranging romantic surprises, and in general tends to devote a lot of time and attention to lover. They can often arrange dates or give you gifts, talk a lot of tenderness. They also take great care of their figure, they probably have an athletic physique and they can often exercise and monitor their diet to maintain their figure. Their profession or occupation is closely related to a managerial position, they can work in the field of law, research, in the field of exact sciences, in particular physics and mathematics, in the field of medicine. They are quite educated and constantly improve their skills, in their free time they prefer reading books or listening to lectures or videos on a narrow specialized topic. They may be from a conservative and religious family. They also don't really like stability, they like to change something in their lives, for example, they can often rearrange rooms, they can experiment with style, or they can often get out of the house and do something they like, because they don't like to stay at home for a long time.

Pile 2: Your future spouse is quite an intelligent, erudite person, when talking to them, you may get the impression that your spouse knows everything and can answer any of your questions — and they really understand many topics. Perhaps their line of work is closely related to writing texts, they may be interested in journalism, writing, philosophy, and like to watch documentaries. By their nature, they are very calm, they can be slow, they have a relaxed speech, posture, facial expression and in general they are very relaxed in life, they are probably one of those who do not worry about trifles and live one day. They are quite responsive, kind, talkative and like to chat a lot, but they also like to listen to others. Perhaps in the past they were fond of horse riding or they dream of trying to do it! They are also fond of gardening, perhaps their family has its own farm or a house outside the city with its own vegetable garden. They are not afraid of competition, on the contrary, competition only motivates them, adds excitement. This applies to everything, even games are taken seriously and can perceive games not as entertainment, but as competition, to win at any cost.

Pile 3: Your future spouse is a calm and reasonable person, they cannot be called conflicted, but if make them angry, they always know what to say so that they close their mouth to the interlocutor and that their opponent feels ashamed and regrets that he even started arguing. They have a stable job and a stable income, it's hard to say that they are striving for promotion, they are satisfied with what they have now, they are completely satisfied with their career. They can do charity work, volunteer from time to time, or work in animal shelters. Although they are calm for the most part, they tend to worry about their future from time to time, they can also have a lot of fears and they can panic too much when something does not go according to plan or when they face the slightest setback. By themselves, they are quite detached, they like to be alone, they are thoughtful and carefully choose their words before saying something and think a lot before doing anything. In terms of relationships, they are hardly romantic, but they are very loyal and will be with their loved one until the end, they respect their partner and support him in any decisions. The union with such a person is very strong and long.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 💕

[wordsinhaled]

Charles has settled on Edwin's lap in the wingback chair in a comfortable sprawl, his knees on either side of Edwin's. He'd gone about it with a practiced ease, as though this is something he's done a million times; as though he belongs here; as though he could search out this spot in his sleep, if ghosts could sleep.

Yet Charles being so near to him, and with such deliberate and specific intent—that being their mutual enjoyment—is a relatively recent development, in the grand scheme. Edwin is... ablaze with the newness of it. He has to tip his head back just to get the full measure of Charles perched astride him, of the low lamplight diffused across Charles' face, of the fond, familiar mischief that glimmers in his eyes.

Port Townsend may have opened Edwin to his innermost desires, but if he is very, very honest he can admit that his private longing for Charles is of much older provenance. He would have given Charles an eternity to sort out the shape of his own feelings, if he needed it. And if it had meant Charles' continued happiness, he would have been content to live out their days alone in his regard, content with a cherished friendship that never included this.

By some miracle, he does not have to.

It had not taken Charles anywhere close to an eternity to figure out the rest, so to speak. What is a single year, after all, to a pair of ghosts? Falling in love, Charles had told him, felt like waking up in a strange bedroom which became, as you shook off sleep, suddenly as familiar as your own. "Oh... bit of a weird metaphor, that," he'd said, wrinkling his nose in the way Edwin privately found exceedingly endearing. Then: "Sorry, mate. I'd been building up to this, you know? What I was gonna say to you. Had it all planned in my head and now. Well. Can't get it out right, can I?"

But semantics didn't much matter, in the end.

In the end, being in love with one another had come to them as easily as it had to fall into step walking through the gates of St. Hilarion's, away from their shadowed past and towards their intertwined future.

It is dizzying to acknowledge that this is real—not a game, or a trick, or a trap. Just Charles Rowland, whom he adores, looking equally smitten as he steadies himself with his hands on Edwin's upper arms, the better to give an experimental shimmy of his hips against Edwin's. Like an anchorless ship Edwin drifts on the sweeping tide of pleasure their proximity brings. He relishes how Charles’ gaze rolls over him, terribly tender in its focus and promisingly molten.

"Charles," he says in unspooled wonder, simply because he can. Simply because happiness, in this moment, takes the shape of his best friend's name in his mouth. To his own ears he sounds strangled. Transported. Not himself whatsoever. It ought to scare him, the difference Charles can work through him so easily with the barest effort; it both does and doesn't. "I am certain you'll be the death of me."

"You're already dead, mate," says Charles, "live a little," and he actually giggles, like he's just said the funniest thing in all the world; like it pleases him immeasurably to know he can have this mad effect on Edwin. The giddy edge of his laughter vibrates through his chest, and into Edwin's. And Charles sounds breathless, even though ghosts do not need to breathe.

Edwin loves him so much, just then, that it genuinely aches. Not the agony of hell or the shocking burn of iron, but something new altogether, an incandescence that lances sharp beneath his breastbone. Something else to add to his running mental catalogue of sensations he shouldn't be able to feel, along with the beginnings of a flush spreading over his skin and the welcome heat of Charles' body through their clothes.

It is, all told, rather overwhelming.

Charles must read something of the enormity of his predicament writ plain on his face, for in the next second he reaches out to stroke careful, calloused thumbs over Edwin's burning cheeks. It's only a feather-light touch, back and forth and back again, one that might irk him were it to come from anyone else—but Charles has always been permitted certain liberties, so instead Edwin finds it... grounding. Or exhilarating. He isn't sure which. Possibly both.

"Hey," Charles says. "It's all right. It's fine. Still going slow, remember? This is brills, just this. We can st—"

"I do not wish us to stop," Edwin protests, before Charles can even finish the unthinkable suggestion. He could remain suspended in this precise millisecond for the next thirty years without complaint. "It is only that I... I can feel you. And everything. Everything we are doing. And it—you—you are so very...”

"Good?" Charles supplies, grinning Edwin’s favorite of his grins—the wide, unfettered one that shows his gums and lets a bit of his tongue peek between his teeth. He looks hopeful, impossibly bright in his joy, and just a little wicked.

“Yes,” Edwin says. "Better than good." He smiles up at Charles, some distant part of him registering that he must look utterly besotted.

Charles laughs, delighted.

And he tips forward to drop his forehead onto Edwin’s shoulder; to put his lips to Edwin’s neck, just below his ear. He presses a kiss there, so quick Edwin might think he’d imagined it, except that Charles does it a second time. And a third, this one open-mouthed and lingering, sending little shivers skittering down Edwin's spine and drawing a soft noise from his throat.

“I like this,” Charles whispers into Edwin's skin. His voice is raw-edged, confessional in a way Edwin hasn't quite heard him sound these three-odd decades. “So much. Being like this, with you. Didn't know how much I would, did I? 'Course you'd see it before me. Brilliant, you are, Edwin Payne."

[teratosfavouritesnack]

~Wet for the Doctor~

gynecologist!lizard man x fem!human - medical kink, dub-con (is it?), gyno exam, vaginal fingering, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, soft dom/sub power dynamic, monster with human kink

You've been missing your doctor so much that you come up with a dumb excuse just so you can see him again.

3,7k.

The chill, comfortable aura of the clinic wasn't really helping soothe your nerves; your thighs were twitching and your hands sweating even more than usual. You pressed your palms on the fabric of your dress, attempting to stop your legs from shaking and wipe your skin.

You weren't scared. On the contrary, you were excited. Your jitters weren't caused by apprehension but rather by... anticipation. 

Yes, anticipation. You had been waiting for this day. You had called in, asking for an appointment way before your routine check-up because you had been missing him terribly. 

It was a wicked attraction. Deplorable even. You couldn’t help it, though. Just thinking of him made your whole body tingle in elation. You couldn’t control it. You couldn’t fight against it, no matter how much your mind implored you to.

“-see you in three months. If the issue resurfaces in the meantime, call me immediately so we can reschedule our appointment.”

You could hear a muffled but very familiar voice coming from behind the door. You squeezed your thighs, squirming on your seat, seeking out relief from the ache between your legs. You had been on the edge since you woke up in the morning, tensed up and wet even before you left your house to head to the clinic after lunch. The moment you’d see him again was getting closer and your body was growing restless. It was as if it ached for him, longed for his touch. Only he could give it solace.

The sound of steps grew closer. Your eyes were already locked on the door as it swung open, seeking to lay upon the source of all your sinful thoughts. A tall and lean elf woman stepped outside, lingering by the doorway, blocking your view of the room. Your jaw clenched upon seeing the saccharine smile plastered on her chiseled face. 

“Thank you dr. Duskcale. I wish you good work. May Lady Arassea watch over you.”

“Ah- Thank you. Take care.”

You were burning holes into her skull, mentally ordering her to leave and you didn’t avert your gaze from her until you saw her walk away and disappear behind the corner. It was ridiculous to feel jealous over someone you had no right to lay any claim to, someone who had to deal and take care of plenty of people’s needs on a daily basis, as his job requested. Many people like you. Yet, it made your stomach churn to think that anybody else beside you could harbor similar sympathies for your doctor. In your mind you were… special. You were different. His behavior towards you implied so, you were sure.

“Y/N.”

His voice startled you. Your head instantly snapped towards the door and there you saw him, standing in all his imposing height, the white coat hanging open from his broad shoulders, its pristine color a stark contrast to the teal blue shade of his skin. His long scaly tail was resting heavy on the floor beside him, with just the tip raised from the ground, swaying gently in your direction. Your chest fluttered the moment your eyes met his and you noticed the small smile grazing his reptilian features. Frustration left your body at once, jealousy leaving room for gratification as he gave you yet another confirmation to your thoughts; you were the only one he would welcome in himself instead of sending his assistant. That had to mean something.

“You may come in.”

You nodded and followed him into his office. Your hair stood on end, feeling his almond bright eyes trained on your back. When you turned your head to look at him, his gaze was indeed traveling over your body, pupils dilating and contracting in that odd way that you had grown very fond of. You had heard reptilians had a superior vision than humans and most other creatures, some could even see infrared rays… You prayed the latter wasn’t the case for your doctor, otherwise he would be able to see how hot your blood boiled under his gaze. How incredibly warm he always made you feel.

“Such a beautiful dress you’re wearing today. It suits you perfectly.”

A bashful smile took form on your lips just like every time he complimented you and your appearance. No matter how many times he did it before - at least once during each appointment - he’d always take you by surprise. Perhaps it was his way as a doctor to create a more friendly and easy going environment for the patient, or perhaps it was something he did only with you. You preferred to think it was the latter.

“Thank you… doctor.”

He had encouraged you to call him by his first name after only a few visits, but you preferred to use his title since you enjoyed watching him adjust his coat on his large body and give you a long look every time that word left your lips.

“Please, remove your underwear and lie on the table.”

And perhaps he enjoyed how he was always able to affect you with that routine request. His keen vibrant eyes remained on you until you nodded and moved behind the room divider to undress. 

You hurriedly removed your shoes and folded your soaking undies on the chair before returning to the center of the room. You tried not to pay too much attention to the cool air of the office meeting the dampness between your thighs. Your motions were rapid, almost hurried, yet sure as you hopped onto the table and laid on your back, shifting your body to find the most comfortable position. He approached you just as you were about to settle your feet on the footrests, his large rough palms gently wrapping around your calves to assist you. Your body buzzed with a wicked thrill as you watched him delicately roll the dress over your tummy to get it out of the way.

“There you go.” he whispered with that warm gentle voice of his, and you almost went into ruptures. Even with only a few simple words he could have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You were truly and utterly infatuated. 

At that point it was impossible not to focus on the humid air touching your damp folds, spread out as you were in front of him, nor at any slight brush of his coat against your skin. He could even as much as exhale in your direction and your body would shiver in response.

You locked eyes with him as he rested his hand on your thigh and squeezed it softly, almost affectionately one would say - it certainly felt like that to you. Your walls instantly fluttered at the contact.

“So… What’s the matter? Something must have come up for you to take a new appointment before our routine checkup in three months.” There was a hint of concern in his tone as he said that, as well as in his gaze as he let it sweep your exposed pussy. He took a seat between your legs and his pupils started to do that weird thing again while he carried out the general pelvic examination. “I don’t see any changes from last time…”

As soon as his fingers made contact with your folds, your legs jolted and he halted his ministrations to look at you. Even from a seated position he towered over you so you could easily watch as his face scrunched up in a soft frown.

“Do you feel any pain?”

“Y-Yes… Well, no… Not exactly-”

His puzzled expression told you it was time to provide him with an explanation. It was time to reveal the ridiculous lie you had made up simply to have an excuse for seeing him again. When you went over it at home in the days leading up to the appointment, you didn't feel as silly and embarrassed as you did now that you stood - well, laid - in front of him. Despite how dumb you felt however, you couldn't avoid it.

"I recently started to see someone…a-a werewolf." you blurted out and instantly felt your stomach clench as you watched his eyes narrow. Did he… not like that? You had only seen him look that pensive, maybe even irritated, when he had to postpone one of your previous visits because his agenda was too full. He didn’t say anything about it though, so you cleared your throat and resumed with your lie. “He is very… uhm… endowed. Perhaps too much for me… So I'm afraid we can't… uhm-”

He hummed thoughtfully. His eyes were scanning your face now, peering at you as if he could see right through your blatant lie. Were you so easy to read? Or did he actually have some crazy eyesight abilities?

“Did you have intercourse with this… werewolf?”

You should have expected such a question, yet it caught you off guard, almost making you jump. One of his hands promptly moved to your upper thigh to knead your flesh as if wishing to ease your tension.

“I need to know in order to proceed.” he pointed out, his tone gentle and nurturing. “I’ve had many a patient who had very unfortunate encounters with such creatures. Werewolves tend to lose all lucidity when sexually aroused, especially when in heat. I should hope this wasn’t your case-”

“Oh, no no-! I-It wasn’t like that… Nothing really bad happened..”

“Well, that’s good to hear. But I still need you to answer.”

You nodded and bit your lip as you held his intense gaze.

"I did." you replied, watching his face harden. "B-But it didn't feel good so we stopped almost immediately!" You rushed to add, hoping that instead would please him.

You were mentally face-palming yourself at what you were saying. You hadn't really thought this through, you realized; you hadn't considered how nervous you'd be in his presence. Making up a lie was easy, saying it to his face was a completely different matter.

He was not pleased with that information, at all. He exhaled heavily, as if disappointed by what he had heard, and his gaze landed on your genitals once more. He stroked his fingers across the flesh of your inner thigh a few times before raising his thumb and slowly trailing it over your labia in a circular motion and then along your slit. His palm still resting on your thigh eased your instant tremors.

"He must not have had much experience if he couldn't manage to please you. He may not have prepped you adequately or at all... Inconsiderate, selfish beast." 

The gruff note in his tone was something you'd never heard before, but it rivaled his typically sweet and gentle voice in the way it made your stomach twist and your body heat up. It's possible you made a mistake by bringing up a werewolf since he seemed to have a quarrel with those creatures, or perhaps that could ultimately work to your benefit...

"It's not your fault," he said, eager to comfort you, sounding like himself again. That honeyed voice of his and the following flick of his thumb on your clitoris had your butterflies fluttering. "You are healthy. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.” 

Your breath hitched as you felt the enlarged tip of his finger probe at your wet entrance, teasing contact that sent you quivering in anticipation. You gulped in a poor attempt to pace yourself.

“However, I do need to carry out a vaginal examination just to make sure he didn’t cause any damage.”

He looked back at you, eyes silently asking for your approval. Only when you meekly nodded did he move his free hand to rest upon your lower abdomen and turned the other palm-up as he slowly placed one finger inside your hole. It slid in quite easily - given how slick you were at that point - despite being at least two sizes bigger than a human finger. 

You shuddered and turned your head to the side, making an effort to focus on anything besides him so as to release your muscles and delay the inevitable, which you sensed was already on its way. 

Your wandering gaze landed on the tools on the nearby table: a speculum and other strange-looking metallic objects he had never used on you before. There were also lube and gloves. He had never used those either. You were always ready for his examinations, and lubrication would be wasted on you. And the gloves… You had seen him take them off when the patients before you would head out but he never, not once, put on a new pair for you. 

He had given you an explanation at one point, as if picking up on your curiosity, stating that the large tips of his fingers were particularly sensitive to touch and could better detect irregularities when there was no layer between them and the surface being examined. His words made reasonable sense, although they didn't exactly explain why he wouldn't wear gloves for you, specifically. From that point on, you had more than once entertained the possibility that he actually enjoyed touching you with his bare hands…

You did now as well, that wicked thought redirecting your attention back to the finger exploring your channel and the friction caused by its scaly, bumpy texture rubbing against your sensitive walls. That rendered all of your efforts futile. You stiffened even more, unable to focus on anything other than the way it curled into your g-spot, hitting it insistently and expertly, until an orgasm crashed into you just a couple of seconds later.

You tried as hard as you could to mask it, sealing your jaw, stilling your tremors, gripping the edges of the table with your hands as hard as you could, but he could definitely feel you fluttering and gushing juices around him. You didn't look up, too embarrassed to meet his gaze, but you felt his palm fondly rub your tummy, which combined with the overstimulation, made it even more difficult for you to remain silent. You had to gnaw on the inside of your cheeks to muffle your moans, nearly to the point of bruising yourself.

If he sensed your orgasm, he said nothing about it as he kept on rubbing your throbbing walls. With your hole even more slick than before, he added another finger to the examination and pushed them both all the way to your cervix, curling them to reach that tender spot with his large fingertips. Your lips parted in a muted cry and your hand promptly rushed to cover your mouth.

“Do you feel any pain?”

He knew you felt no pain, he knew for certain but he still played the part, maybe because it aroused him just as much as it aroused you.

You hastily shook your head in response, your gaze returning to him to chance a look. You regretted it immediately. He was already staring at you, probably relishing your blushing and contorting face or perhaps even your stiffened nipples showing beneath the fabric of your dress. He seemed to have been waiting for you to look at him because the instant he had your attention, he stood up, opening your legs even wider, and pushed a third finger into you, forcing you to bite your lips to conceal a lewd whimper.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?”

You were too overwhelmed by the warmth and shivers rushing through you and forcing slick to gush from your hole to understand what he was referring to and so you simply nodded your head.

His face hardened again but the motion of his fingers didn’t falter. It remained slow, careful yet precise and deliberate. A touch that only someone like him could offer. A touch that would make anyone lose their right minds. It certainly made you lose yours.

You were totally unprepared when he inserted a fourth thick finger inside you, and you could not hold back a cry this time, nor stop your back from arching away from the table or your sock-clad feet to curl and fight against the footrests. The huge palm on your belly pressed gently but firmly into your soft flesh, pushing you back down onto the surface. 

"It's okay… It's okay.” he crooned. “You’re a bit tight. Please, try to release your muscles… It will be easier.”

Release your muscles? You had barely any control over your body at that stage but you mindlessly obeyed, only to tense up all over again when you felt another finger probe at your entrance, meeting resistance. This time, he rushed to your aid by pressing his other thumb against your clitoris. The additional stimulation of its pad tapping and rubbing tight circles over your pulsing bundle of nerves did the trick and his fifth finger promptly slid in, filling you up so perfectly as if it had a place within you designed specifically for it.

“Mmm… Good. Very good." 

The stretch was so insane, it took your breath away. You had his whole hand inside you. A hand that could easily exceed the huge girth of any werewolf’s cock, was moving in and out of you, fucking you leisurely, its fingers curling when deep inside your walls and hitting your cervix every damn time. You would have been trashing if he didn’t hold you still with his other palm resting on your hips, a palm that covered the whole expanse of your stomach. Even only the sight of it could make your insides melt in wicked pleasure and the thought that its exact twin was now buried inside you had your brain turn to mush.

“Is everything ok, sweetheart?” 

You gasped, your eyes widened in shock and locked on him. He had never called you like that before. The sound of his lovely, warm voice addressing you in such an affectionate manner caused you to short-circuit. You watched, dumb and panting heavily, as his free hand stroked your belly and traveled possessively up your stomach, even past the rolled hem of your dress, nearly touching the swell of your breasts before trailing back down to settle on your lower abdomen in an intimate and protecting grip. His thumb came to contact with your swollen bud again, and you barely had time to register the knot snapping in your belly before your body began to spasm violently and your vision went white. Waves and waves of pleasure overwhelmed you, triggering every nerve in your system to send electric shocks to course through your body.

His fingers continued to move inside you, slower than before, guiding you through the aftershock, while his other hand tenderly caressed your tummy, providing a comforting touch that helped you ground yourself.

"That was such a... good response." He said and you thought you heard his voice crack through the haze clouding your mind.

His cool palm settled on your cheek, fingers wiping the drool of saliva rolling off your lip. You struggled to focus your vision back on him, your heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open and closed a couple times before you managed to fix your gaze back on his face.

"Did he stretch you out like I've just done? Did anyone ever do it?"

You lazily shook your head, chest heaving hard, gaze still hazy. A low threatening rumble reached your muffled ears but it was gone before you could pinpoint what it was.

"That's very unfortunate. I'm sorry you had to encounter such miserable individuals." 

His fingers finally slid out of you with a lewd squelching sound that made your walls flutter and your face redden. His eyes were trained on your slick cunt, fingertips gently dragging along the slit, smearing your juices from your hole to your clitoris and back, causing you to jerk at each touch.

"Some beasts shouldn't be allowed to be intimate with anybody." he grumbled, eyes attentively following the movement of his fingers against you. "Especially not with creatures so fragile...so precious…”

It looked like he was talking to himself rather than to you. His tone was so soft you could barely hear it but packed with emotion. His head bent down towards you as if attracted like a magnet, and his jaw parted to reveal his forked tongue. The tip flicked through the air with clear purpose... 

Was he tasting your scent?

“You deserve so much better…”

His shocking words made your still tender body shudder and a gasp erupt from your lips. The sound seemed to break him out of whatever trance he'd fallen in. His eyes met yours, and the slit in his pupil narrowed so much to turn into a thin line. He drew back abruptly, as if he had caught himself upon doing something inappropriate. Turning to the adjacent steel table, he grabbed the paper towels and cleaned you with newfound self-control.

“I… need to see you again. Soon. As soon as possible.” He announced as he walked to his desk, discarding the dirty towels on the way. He sat and buried his smooth snout in his agenda, scanning over the pages with ever-growing irritation.

You still didn't feel completely like yourself as you eased down from the table and anchored your unsteady legs on the floor. Silently, you moved behind the divider with quick mindless steps and pulled your panties back on as well as your shoes.

When you came back out, he was standing in front of the desk, facing you and looking rather disappointed.

“We’ll have to see each other next week. Same day, same hour. I postponed some appointments but this is the best I could do.”

You simply nodded, unsure of what to say. You didn’t really trust your voice yet, anyway.

"I must ask you to abstain from attempting penetration again with that werewolf... or anybody else, if possible. Until I finish with your treatment."

You hadn’t the faintest idea what kind of treatment he was referring to but you didn’t dare ask. Whatever excuse he had for having you come over again worked for you. At least you didn't have to make up another stupid lie yourself. 

His bright eyes seemed to pierce you, as though expecting your agreement, and you rushed to answer.

"I w-won't see anyone."

"...Good."

You both fell quite for a moment. Your gazes were locked but your mouths were sealed shut. Neither of you risked giving voice to your thoughts, nor acknowledge the obvious tension buzzing between you two. 

He broke the silence first by clearing his throat.

“I hope you have a good week, Y/N. It's been… a pleasure to see you again.”

You took a long breath, hoping to ease your thundering heartbeat. Oh, you were hooked. Totally smitten with him… and whatever had happened only a couple minutes earlier made you believe that he had a soft spot for you, too.

“It's been a pleasure for me too… Adryan.”

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me ♡

Tagging: @strawberrypoundtown, @hikotaru, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @loveloveloveeee, @just-a-sewer-goblin, @h0n3y-l3m0n05 🖤

[shadebloopnik]

Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.

Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.

Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.

He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-

So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.

It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.

He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.

Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.

But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.

So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.

Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."

Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.

What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????

"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.

But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.

"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."

Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.

Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.

"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"

Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.

Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??

(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)

Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.

"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."

He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.

So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.

Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.

But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.

Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.

Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.

They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.

As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.

[rafecameronssl4t]

is reader close to her siblings in forced marriage? do they even like rafe? does rafe like them around? are they more big fans of the arrangements than reader? (sorry so many questions lol)

There’s a very interesting dynamic with reader and her siblings for sure. In case your forgot from oldest to youngest: William, Astoria, Edward, Charlotte, and Reader. (Sorry theres a lot that I’ve written but it is important for you to understand the different dynamics)

Reader is somewhat close to her siblings in the sense that they share a common upbringing and understanding of the expectations placed on them. However, this closeness may not extend to deep emotional bonds, as her siblings, particularly William, Edward, and Astoria, seem more aligned with the family’s realistic and business-oriented outlook. They accept the marriage and even support it more than reader does, even encouraging her to see the “benefits” of the arrangement.

There is rivalry between the siblings and this extends to their views on the arranged marriage, with William and Edward (more William) acting superior, thinking they understand what’s best for the family. They see reader resisting her duties, while they uphold theirs, causing friction. This dynamic intensifies reader’s feelings of being trapped in a marriage that her brothers—who are are the most influential between all the siblings—support more than she does.

William, as the oldest, carries the weight of family expectations more heavily. He’s more rigid and traditional in his views, holding the family name and prestige above all else. William pressures reader the most to fall in line with the arranged marriage, seeing it as a necessary duty. His approach might come off as stern or even condescending, expecting reader to prioritise the family’s reputation over personal happiness. His relationship with Rafe is sort of very much too faced, keeping up an appearance in the public eye and surprisingly in private but he is polite—he respects Rafe’s social standing and business acumen, but he might also quietly disapprove of Rafe’s flaws and temper.

Edward, on the other hand, is more level-headed and pragmatic. While he also supports the arranged marriage, he is less forceful about it, understanding that reader may have mixed feelings. Edward adopts a more measured approach, offering advice and reasoning instead of pressure. He’d recognise the practical benefits of the arrangement, but he would also empathise with reader’s internal struggle, making him the more approachable of the two brothers. His interactions with Rafe is neutral, seeing Rafe’s usefulness but not being overly fond of him either.

When it comes to readers sisters, Astoria and Charlotte, the family dynamic gains more depth. Reader’s relationship with them has its own unique complexities, possibly with shades of rivalry similar to what exists with William and Edward.

Astoria maintains a distant yet caring presence (in her own very unique way) in the family, strictly adhering to traditions and societal expectations. She is quite vocal and snappy, often expressing her opinions bluntly, which can come across as abrasive. While her underlying concern for the reader is subtle, her words often reflect a detached attitude, shaped by her values and the weight of family expectations. Astoria has a composed relationship with Rafe, treating him cordially and respecting the marriage’s social importance, but an unspoken distance remains. Rafe finds her sharp demeanor frustrating, feeling pressured to meet her standards, with her pointed comments creating an atmosphere where he feels constantly evaluated or compared.

Charlotte, on the other hand, is much closer to reader. She shares a more intimate bond, offering emotional support where reader feels misunderstood by others in the family, making her a confidante. Charlotte’s closeness to reader creates a stronger sense of loyalty, leading her to side with reader more often than not, even if she doesn’t entirely rebel against the family’s expectations. Unlike Astoria, her interactions with Rafe may is more direct, as she expresses concern for how he treats her sister. This dynamic leads to subtle tension between her and Rafe, as he feels that Charlotte is protective of reader in a way that interferes with their relationship.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Making s'mores w/ the proxies

Bro I made cajun shrimp a while ago and I wanna make it again it's so good but my dad doesnt like cajun seasonings💔

Notes: reader is GN, admin shows his bias against smores and its so obvious LMAO, masky and hoodie are stubborn about their masks

CWs: none

MASKY

loathes smores, he just thinks theyre too much and not worth the mess.. he doesnt have much of a sweet tooth, and the only reason he would eat one is because you went through the effort of starting a fire and bringing the stuff out and meeting him in the woods

has his back to you while hes eating his, hes not quite to the "hes fine with lifting his mask up around you" stage, and its going to stay like that for a long while

viscously rubbing his face afterwards to get rid of any leftover mess, he hardly ever talks or makes a sound but you can hear him hissing under his breath as he works

snatches up any napkins or wipes you hand him and rubs his face clean- may rip his mask off to clean the insides of it because he put it back on not realizing there was still more mess on his face

rage rage anger he hates it so much

HOODIE

you have to beg him to take his nasty crusty gloves off before you even open the bag of marshmallows- for both your sakes... you love him, really you do, but you cant stomach the idea of him touching the same food youre going to eat with said gloves

doesnt much care for smores actually, he thinks theyre too messy... it gets absolutely everywhere and he isnt too fond of the feeling of his mask sticking to his face where he missed some spots

it also doesnt help that he doesnt fully take off his mask, only lifting it up enough to eat the damn thing... he wouldnt have to worry about it if he just took the entire thing off... but oh well

likes the marshmallow moderately roasted- far from burnt, but toasted enough that its softened

would prefer a different treat next time

TICCI TOBY

you know what? blasting him with the beam of "has never tried a smore before in his life because the author has never gotten to try one"

burns his marshmallow but he prefers it that way, both texturally and flavor wise, you may think him insane for roasting it until the outside looks like coal but it brings him joy!

doesnt mind the mess it makes, if he gets some of the melted marshmallow on his hands he might wave it in your face and pretend hes about to touch you

very passionate debate on whether or not the chocolate goes under or above the marshmallow- he thinks it tastes better above but most people do it under.. he swears it tastes better this way! just try it!

you know how some people will take those cracker/meat/cheese lunchables and make a giant stack? he does that with the smore and its as messy and horrific as it sounds

[leighsartworks216]

Hello!! I love your writing a lot and Im sorry if you've written something similar before but I just think a quieter Tav who would gently tug on Astarion's sleeve or shirt everytime they need help with a lock or a trap would be super cute. It would be super light and gentle tugs or taps to his shoulder, nothing forceful or hurtful. In exchange for his help they would let him have first pick of whatever is inside. Tav thinks he agreed to help because he gets a cut of the rewards, and that is true, but mostly because he's more fond of Tav than they know and he likes the way they smile and look at him when he helps - worth far more than the treasure inside any chest or room.

Thank you for sharing your writing! ❤️❤️❤️

This one feels super short to me but I still think it's pretty cute

Warnings: none

Word Count: 572

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Astarion couldn’t quite recall when it started. He remembers that you were cagey around him - around everyone, for that matter. Always so quiet, never speaking unless you absolutely had to. He’d tag along with you while you explored, and when you needed his lockpicking expertise, you’d call for him. Even if it was barely a whisper, his sensitive ears picked up on it and he came sauntering to your aid.

It evolved, rather quickly, he thinks. You stopped calling for him in favor of tapping against metal or knocking on wood, calling his attention to your location. It was especially effective over long distances, if you’d ended up wandering off.

And then it evolved further. This time it was mostly on his part. He decided once to stay nearby, search the rooms with you, looking for anything you may have looked over. But when you needed his help, you didn’t knock, you tapped on his shoulder. Admittedly, it startled him at first. Your footsteps were so quiet he didn’t hear you coming up behind him. Somehow, despite the efficiency of knocking, this was how you continued to get his attention.

You tugged on his sleeve, tapped on his arm - always gentle. That, too, formed its own little code. You tugged when there was a trap ahead, telling him without words to be careful. You would tap when you found a locked door or chest, or even just to get his opinion on something.

It was… endearing. The rest of the group would wander on ahead, exploring for themselves, and he stayed by your side the whole time. He wrote it off, of course, claiming he didn’t want you to strain your voice for his sake, but it became much more than that. And even though you always compensated him for his trouble (First dibs on treasure had earned him a few lucky finds, things that the others sure would have liked for themselves.), he found a greater treasure in your smile. In the way your eyes lit up at a particularly interesting discovery.

-

You tapped on his arm excitedly before you ran to a door. It was old and rusty, but not rusted enough to break through the lock keeping it in place. You tugged on the door handle and turned to him with such glee. He could hear your heart racing with anticipation.

“And what do you hope to find in there, darling?” he teased as he pulled out his lockpicks and got to work. He could see you shrug from the corner of your eyes. “Well, if all that’s in here is a skeleton, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on claiming my reward.”

You nudged his shoulder playfully. He had a hard time keeping a smile off his face. With a few clicks and a very stubborn turn, the door unlocked. He stepped back before you could barrel him over.

The room was dark, with small reflections of light off metal catching your attention. It was probably gold or weapons or something worth the effort. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from you. Your child-like enthusiasm as you rushed inside to grab anything good, bright-eyed and smiling. If he could see his face, he’d see just how fond he looked at them - the gentle smile that came unbidden to his lips; the softness of his eyes, full of adoration and affection.

Yes, he thought, this was the best reward.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr

[fuxuannie]

i lobe ur writing style sm its so comforting!

can i req a ‘things hsr men do when they have a crush on you’ ^^ (like some would outright flirt and others would be super flustered etc.)

* pairing(s) : various (4) hsr men x gender neutral reader

* prompt : request

* authors note : banabsmwns THANK YOU ALL FOR 700!!! the support really makes me so giddy and very happy n i hope i continue to make content you all enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و i'm gonna lay off uploading as often as i used to, but It's not complete radio silence! i just wanna try and write when i want to, and not force myself. ♡

DAN HENG is VEEERY very nervous around you when he's realized his feelings towards you were romantic. He tries to flirt, (he tried to do the 'pinning you to the wall' thing but he backed out the second his hand made contact with the wall and you couldnt find him for a week) but is painfully bad at it.

You smile and his heart is doing BACKFLIPS, he has to clear his throat, turn around and hang his head down low just to fail and hide the pretty shade of red on his cheeks.

He's so easily flustered by anything you do, that man is crazy inlove that Caelus starts calling him delusional for thinking how yours and his hands briefly brushed over each other meant you may or may not reciprocate his feelings.

He likes to talk about you to March and Caeulus a lot, (they're sick and tired of him) but they're just happy you can bring that kind of smile to his face. The absolute adoration in his eyes and the fondness in his smile as he talks about you, who wouldn't be happy for their friend if they looked like that? Even if they're tired of him talking about eye contact wih you for 3 hours, he's happy and you make him happy. That's all they ever want for him.

JING YUAN is subtle, and tries to be cool when it comes to his crush for you. However, he trips on his words whenever you playfully tease back or anything of the such. He even makes stupid corny jokes that aren't that funny but are so bad you can't help but laugh.

His busy schedule does make trying to make time to see you much harder. Unless you work within his organization, he'll barely get to have a conversation longer than 3 minutes. So whenever he does see you during his non-work hours, he'll try to a lot of time with you to make up for the times that he couldn't be by your side.

He's pretty subtle with his flirting, offering to lock arms as you tour Luofu so that 'he can keep you close and won't lose you' and purely out of respect. He's probably really poetic with his teasing or flirting too, comparing your beauty to Aeons.

It's pretty much obvious that GEPARD gets nervous around you, but he's so adorable your heart cannot handle it. You loved to squeeze his cheeks whenever he's flustered, making it impossible to look away and leaving you to giggle at how he mutters how embarrassed he felt.

You're already well aware of his crush on you, (not that he was good at hiding it) but you just needed to be ready. You loved him back with your whole heart, but you just needed time, and Gepard could wait.

He even gained your guardians approval, that on the day you were ready, they would give him his blessing. They knew Gepard was a man with a pure heart, one that was ready to love you with the love you deserved.

CAELUS had grown fond of you, but his crush on you was surprisingly soft. He wanted to protect you, and with what he was capable of, he loved to do it. Your praise in his ears is like music, he could never get tired of taking care of you and it's almost like a love language.

He has such a sweet smile when he looks or thinks of you, something about you makes his heart melt, kick his feet and twirl his hair like a school girl or something. (this is a joke)

Spending time with him usually consists of you doing whatever you want, and Caelus following you like a lost duckling. He likes it when you grab his hand, and drag him wherever. You might be rambling about something, but his only focus is the way you and him intertwined fingers and how soft your hand felt in his.

taglist : @renalord @calxb-do @veezablog

[ashton-sano]

Blue Lock Characters in: Being Jealous

(Characters Inclu.: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Chigiri Hyoma)

Trying to get into the habit of posting more often, so have these headcanons. A Bit short but I hope you enjoy

Yoichi Isagi

-Somehow the worst one on this list

-He's likely to give the nastiest glare to whoever you're wasting your time with (of course when you arent looking)

-Post Blue lock Isagi is kinda the same, Just a lot less subtle. curses and maybe a fight or two if its Kaiser. 

"That blonde asshole has no place talking to you, you're mine.."

-Don't be alarmed, he's unlikely to take his jealously out on you

-Unless you're teasing him on purpose, then he might get a bit agitated with you

- "My dear, I'm not too fond of how you let him touch you just then, please stop that."

 

-He's a two way street, either a sweetheart who tries to dodge around it or a straight maniac who will plot murdering whoever it is.

    -Nothing to mistake, he isnt brainless, so theres always a chance he wont care

-He's mostly secure in your relationship with him but could use reassurance in times like that

Meguru Bachira 

-Relatively tame for the most part

-If anything, he may get clingier

-He honestly doesnt even acknowledge the person youre talking to at first, he's too invested in you

"Oh, Baby! You busy today? I wanted to try this- hm? Oh, you're talking to someone...? Anyway, its this cool bakery I saw, we should try it!"

-If you aren't giving him your attention, that's when he'd get pouty

-He's a child at heart, naturally he's gonna get upset if you aren't paying him mind, no matter the reason

"Babyyyyyyy, gimme attention...! I dont care who youre talking to, love me!"

-Its cute so you usually give him his way and stop what youre doing

       

     --> Little do you know, he does it on purpose because it always works

-Definitely a michevious little bumblebee

Seishiro Nagi 

-Another rather tame one

-Hard to tell if he even cares with how lazy and laid back he is 

-It usually never bothers him since he does trust you 

"Hm? Your friend asked to hang out today? Sounds cool.." 

-Like Bachira, he only cares when it cuts into your time with him, now its something of note for him

-How could you leave your boyfriend for some lame hangout? Playing Video games with him is much more important

"You want me to get off..? No...Not until you promise you'll stay and hang out with me..."

-Please just stay, he might actually cry if you leave (he wont, but it always gets you because you believe him)

     ->A 6'2" babi, why wouldnt you want to give him what he wants?

- Eventually he makes you forget why you were trying to leave in the first place

Reo Mikage

-Have you seen how he gets with Nagi? Safe to say he wont be very happy

-As mad as he'd be, I doubt he'll make sure you see that

-All smiles and grins when you look at him, what do you mean you swear you saw him scowl at the guy behind you? You're just seeing things love

 

"Dove, who's this? A..friend? Ah, well im sure we'll get along well, real well...."

-We all know how privledged he is, he would be appauled that you want time with anyone besides him, what could they give you that he cant?

-Granted, he wouldnt give it much thought at first but as you keep focus on this person, itll eat away at him more before he's pouting and begging for you to give him your undivided time

"C'mon Dove, how bout we go to that new cafe you were talking about, hm? No, im not trying to distract you, how could you say that..?"

(Thats definitely what hes doing)

-Eventually he'd bribe or sweet talk you into giving him what he wants 

    -"Dont ask about where that guy went, hes not important....Now lets go get some ice cream, yeah?"

-A tad creepy and overprotective but with all that money, who is to stop him?

Chigiri Hyoma

 The most tame on this list, and by a rather large margin too

-This pretty boy knows you'll eventually give him your attention, nothing to worry about

-If anything, he encourages you to allocate your time doing what you want and speaking to who you wish

-That can change if the person is too touchy with you, however

"Pretty sure they asked you to take your hands off, keep them to yourself."

 

-He trusts you entirely, its the people you hang around that can overstep and agitate him 

-Hence why he's almost always hanging out with you, your friends are his friends right? What better way to show them that you're happily taken then to bring your sweet, beautiful redhead with you?

"Going out sweetheart? Mind if i tag along? I mean only if you don't mind."

-Truly a man who knows his worth, but it would help if you told your especially pushy friends to mind their manners when he's around 

    -A few of them have actually attempted moves on him once or twice

-We stan a Pretty King 👑 

[a-libra-writes]

can I please request for a Mordecai Heller x female reader? like reader is a showgirl who sings on stage like Mitzi one and tends to attract a lot of attention but backs out when they feel this murdercat plotting their death lmao. thank you 😁

heyo! I decided to do a looot of the cats for this one, since its p similar to my Peaky Blinders Jazz Singer post that I was fond of. GN Reader.

Being a Jazz Singer & Performer!

Rocky - When he was hired and met you for the first time, it was absolutely an "infatuation at first sight" situation. Pros!: He's unfailingly polite and sweet, he seems to play with even more energy when you two share a stage, his grin is very off-putting to creeps who shout up at the stage and harass you. Cons: He can get quite distracted when you two share a stage. Many times Zib has had to pull him back with the rest of the band, because he keeps unintentionally scooting closer to you.

The worst part of the Lackadaisy falling onto hard times is the fact you rarely worked there now - you had to sing at other clubs to make ends meet. One of Rocky's big motivators for getting the club back to its old self is you'd come back! Forever this time! (Probably). Rocky doesn't exactly have the time or money to visit the other clubs you work at, so he wants all of your attention during your infrequent visits to the Lackdaisy.

Freckle - Look, he's a shy kid, and the whole 'sneaking out under cover of night to do bootlegging/torpedo shenanigans' is still new. He doesn't have a lot of experience or frame of reference for what a good club singer is like, but Freckle thinks you've got to be one of the best. You have to be, right? Your voice is wonderful and you look positively celestial under the stage lights - wait, that's weird to think, right? Thank God he didn't say it out loud. ... He didn't, right?

Freckle hasn't the slightest idea of how to approach you, so it's up to Ivy and his cousin to drag him over and attempt conversation. It's... a little pitiable, but he's trying. That said, he's surprisingly outspoken and a little scary if someone tried to mess with you while you performed. You're used to the heckles and catcalls, but it's shocking to see that shy tabby jump up from his seat and raise his voice at them.

Ivy - She liked you from the moment she first saw you perform at the Lackdaisy, and that crush hasn't dulled over the months. She maaaay have kept a few posters that advertised the clubs you sang at, and may or may not have cajoled her way into those clubs so she could watch the show. She could easily sweet talk her way to backstage, too - seems you've got a fan.

When the Lackadaisy goes downhill, it's Ivy who wants to sweet talk you into returning. You'll bring in a crowd! The acoustics are great! Pretty pleeease? Her dad Ivy will pay you and not get in trouble until months later when the family accountant goes over the finances. Obviously she cares about the club's wellbeing, but she also wants to spend time with you! Though she's bold enough to just ask you outright. She's also bold enough to outright shout and fight anyone whose heckling you - throwing a heel is a favorite tactic.

Viktor - You're someone he saw often in the olden days, back when the club could afford to have you perform several times a week rather than once a month. Viktor never cared much for the cacophony the crowd and music made, though he knew objectively you were an excellent performer. Rather than endure the crowd, he'd listen to your voice drift across the caves backstage, rehearsing with the band or just by yourself. It was pleasant to listen to, and he could do so in private, either coming back from a job or about to go on one.

Once things began to fall apart, it's not as though he went around to clubs ... or anywhere, really. So if you stopped performing at the Lackadaisy, you might never see each other again. Choosing to stay (or at least do a few pity gigs) would lead to the surprising sight of the big, morose Slav working behind the bar and watching from there, rather than his previous hideouts. It's a little intense to be under that stare... but not all unpleasant? And given how sparse the crowd is, anyone making trouble and catcalling will get dealt with so promptly, they won't even have time to finish their wolf whistle.

Zib - Well, obviously he's going to be drawn in by an attractive singer. Come on. Zib can be smooth when he wants, chainsmoker-scent and rumpled clothes aside. The band likes to tease him mercilessly about it, but that doesn't stop him from cozying up while you two perform together and shooting his shot backstage after every show. Back when the Lackadaisy was thriving, he could afford to hang out at the other clubs you performed at; nowadays, though, that's not so likely.

Even so, starting up a friendship or even fling wouldn't be difficult. He's attracted to and interested in creative spirits, doubly so if you two had very different taste (so there's more to discuss!) and you got on well with the rest of the band. Late-night debates about this musician or that show over a game of cards and several bottles of wine, either together or with the rest of the boys, and waking up half-dressed and seriously hungover come sunrise. Opportunities for visiting would dwindle as the Lackadaisy's business dried up, though if you stayed on ... No, he wouldn't want that for you. If anything you'd be mentioning to him and the band that there's other places to perform to pay the bills. Well, it'd be food for thought.

Wick - Wick wouldn't call himself a music aficionado, especially what's listened to at these rowdy speakeasies, but he won't deny how hard it was to focus on his business associates when you were on stage. So when he discovered you often performed at his favorite club, it was a pleasant surprise. He really wanted to speak with you at some point, at least compliment the performance, but didn't want to come off as those typical entitled wealthy guys who get too fresh with ""lower"" class performers ... so sometimes you'd find flowers in the dressing room and an anonymous note of appreciation.

He finally gets a conversation when you're a guest at a posh party he's attending, or when you continue to perform at the Lackadaisy in spite of the dwindling crowd. It's a shame your large audience is missing, but at least it's way less awkward for him to strike up conversation when you come to the bar? He probably won't bring up the flowers. Oh god, what if you think that's weird. You probably assumed the flowers were some freak fan. Is he a freak fan? He's not, right? (It will take him like months of dating to finally admit to the flowers thing)

Serafine - A good-looking cat with a nice set of pipes is certainly someone she'd notice, especially if they were a regular performer at the Marigold Room and other places she frequented before that. If it was the former, she'd have plenty of chances to wink when you met eyes, "chancing" across you backstage or just being forward and chatting you up after the show. She certainly isn't shy about expressing her interest, and it could be a fun fling.

You do look adorable swinging your hips and swaying your tail along to the beat, not to mention the different get-ups you have to dress in. Serafine maaaay or may not have wanted to help pick a suit out, or help with make-up, or give you some of her jewelry to wear... It's half marking her territory and half she loves to lounge around your dressing room and be a pest. You'd never kick her out and she knows it. She'll do it in other clubs, too, though you have no idea how she keeps getting past security.

Nico - Like his sister, he has no qualms nor shame about trying to get your attention on stage. Unlike Serafine, though, he'd start doing it immediately and be a general pest after the show. The difference between his attention seeking and the other men's in the audience is he actually has some charisma when you two meet backstage, so you're only slightly inclined to tell him to buzz off. He wasn't much of a music expert, and he still isn't ... But he likes hearing you rehearse and hum to yourself, and it's endearing when he requests songs.

He's pleased when you get gigs at the Marigold Room, as it's easier to hang around before and after the show - and bonus, he gets to be extra aggressive with throwing creeps out to impress you! But if you're performing elsewhere then Nico will stop by. He might be bruised and/or bloody because he just left a job, but don't worry! Sometimes he'll even bring flowers or whatever - though without Serafine knowing, she'd never let him live it down.

Mordecai - He wouldn't approach you any differently from others - he'd still be his usual prickly, anti-social, often awkward self - in fact, he might avoid an avid performer, simply because they often have fans around them or at least people recognizing them. What could get his notice was someone whose real persona is very different from their ostentatious self on stage - more quiet and pensive, perhaps. Like any attempt at friendship, let alone romance, it's slow going with him.

That said, he's the type to admire professionalism in a performance. A well put together outfit, thoughtful musical arrangement (as if he's an expert ...). He wouldn't like a femme presenting singer have to wear skimpy clothes or tolerate a rowdy audience. If there was a questionable manager or creepy fan bothering them, Mordecai can deal with that, at least, not that he'd tell his friend/partner. Mordecai would generally glare down any touchy fans and annoying admirers like a jealous terrier. This amuses Mitzi to no end.

Asa - Simply put, he saw you performing at a ritzy party he was invited to and reached out to your manager so you might perform on a weekly basis at the Marigold Room. Very professional! He'd send flowers with his name to the dressing room afterward, would make sure you're finding everything to your liking and not being bothered by anyone. Requests to continue performing would bypass your manager to being nice, short handwritten notes.

Eventually he'd pay you extra and treat you to a nice dinner afterward, if you were comfortable with it. If you let the older man down, he's not too bothered. He'd continue the friendly business relationship and would still send flowers and so on. He'd rather keep you as a good business associate and continue to enjoy the performances than let his silly feelings get in the way. Alas, he is hopeless at discussions of your music. My guy called a ukelele a tiny guitar.

Wes - He never hung around the Marigold Room after hours - it's his workplace, and not really his vibe - but it's very hard to resist not sitting by for an hour (or three) with a drink while you finish your set. Sometimes you two will meet eyes, or he thinks you are, and he considers dropping backstage to say ... hello? He's an 'employee', so isn't checking up on you a normal thing to do? Make sure you're satisfied with the Marigold Room and all that. Right.

Ironically that's how he's finally able to meet the singer he's been mooning over for months. A drunk patron was getting too cozy on your way out, and Wes happened to be there. His face and ... charming demeanor is good for scaring off upper class wimps. So there's that. He's not so bad, though - clumsy, and prooobably realizes you're out of his league. You get to see more of his earnest side when you two meet outside of the Marigold Room, where his fellow murderous gangsters coworkers aren't watching yalls every move with popcorn in hand.

[caraetdeul]

A Bouquet of Breakdowns

Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Sometimes, life is a bride that just gives a whole ass bouquet of problems in one throw.

TW: breakdowns, stressed reader

a/n: hi so this is more of a self-indulgent fic. I've been so stressed lately and I may have inserted my own situation in this fic in a very detailed way too much, so sorry bout that. But other than that, hopefully everything's good at your end of the screen but if not, hopefully this fic will help you in any way possible. Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

~Main Masterlist~

I’ve got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine

I got a love and I know that its all mine, oh oh

Do what you want but yo—

Seungcheol groaned, trying to reach out for his phone on his nightstand in his sleepy state. Letting you change his ringtone to this song may be a mutual decision for the sake of comedic timing but right now, all he wants is to just throw his phone out the window.

“Whoever decided that 2 o’clock in the morning was a good time to call was definitely gonna taste the wrath of a sleep deprived Cheo—”

“Oh thank God you answered!”

He paused for a second, his brain trying to comprehend the urgency in your brother’s voice. Once his brain caught up to the moment, he sat up immediately.

“What do you mean, Chan?”

“I’ve been trying to call noona for 30 minutes now and she’s still not answering her phone. I’m panicking right now hyung. I don’t know what to do!” Cheol can already hear Chan’s pacing from his end of the line and knew that he was already at the brink of a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, hey calm down for a bit. What do you mean you’ve been calling your sister for a while now? Isn’t she in her room probably sleeping right now?”

“That’s the thing! She isn’t! I went in her room to borrow something from her but when I entered, she wasn’t there! Oh god, this can’t be happening right now.”

“Okay, breathe Chan. I’ll go help find her. Do you have any idea where she might have gone to?”

He heard Chan take a deep breath before answering slightly more calmly than before, “Try the park behind the church. I do remember her telling me something about the garden there and how she goes there sometimes.”

“Okay, thanks Chan.” Cheol stood up, immediately searching the vicinity for a shirt and his wallet and keys.

“Wait, I’m coming with you.” He can already hear a door slam shut before Chan even finished his sentence.

“No, stay there in case she comes back. I’ve got this.” The call went silent for a bit and Cheol can feel his hesitance to follow his instructions. But even then, Chan knew he was right and can only sigh in agreement.

“Okay, fine. Just call me back once you find her, please.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, hyung. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“No worries, Chan. I’ll do anything for the both of you.”

Once the call ended, Cheol rushed to his car, praying to every single higher being he can remember at the moment that you were alright. He wasn’t really shocked with how your brother reacted to your sudden disappearance. Ever since you were children, all he could remember was how you took care of your little brother all by yourself. Your parents were always too busy for the both of you thus, you were left with all the responsibilities in your home including being a parent for your own brother. Because of this, Chan decided that he was gonna be your protector in any way that he can be. So it was no shock that he would react this way.

It took him around 15 minutes before he reached the town’s church. He parked the car by the sidewalk before walking towards the back of the church where the park is found. Chan didn’t really specify the garden that you mentioned but he had a slight clue as to what it might have been. You were always fond of the hydrangeas that bloomed at this time of the year. He can remember how pretty you looked under the light of the sunset as you explained how hydrangeas can grow in groups but still retain a unique beauty for each flower. He then remembered how you further sprouted random facts about them and all he’s thinking about is how much he loves your nerdy side.

Walking through the park, he tries calling out your name but there were no response. As he neared the garden hidden at the very end of the park, he can slightly hear a melody being played from a phone. Once he got closer to the sound, he sighed in relief when he clearly heard the lyrics to your favorite song. It was only then that he realized how stiff his whole body was from panic, only relaxing when he sees your form lying on the grass and watching the stars above. He sent a text to your brother to let him know you’re safe. As soon as he received a text back, he walked towards your direction, careful not to spook you too much.

“You do know that phones are made primarily for texting and calling, right?” You immediately turned to the direction of the sound, scared for your life. But once you see your boyfriend’s face, you relaxed your hold on your pepper spray and took a deep breath to calm your nerves down.

“What the hell, Choi? You scared the shit out of me.”

“Well to be fair, you scared me first what with you disappearing in the middle of the night and not even telling anyone about it.”

“Okay, fair. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smiled at him in an attempt to look apologetic as he lies down next to you.

“Apology accepted.” Cheol stretched out his arm to you, letting you cuddle up to him, “but i can’t promise any forgiveness from your brother any time soon. He was about to burn the whole house down in panic trying to find you.”

“Oh god.” Cheol chuckled at your response. He can already hear the gears in your head running and trying to find an acceptable peace offering for your brother. For a few minutes he let you dwell in your thoughts, knowing all too well that you’ve already moved past that and now deciding on whether or not you would share the whole reason why you’re out here at this time of night.

“So,” Cheol started, “want to talk about it?”

You hummed. Biting your lips, you said the first thing that came into your mind, “I don’t really know where to start.”

“That’s okay. Take your time. We’ve got all night.” His hold on you tightened for a bit, letting you know that he’s there for you no matter what. You don’t know what you did to deserve him but you thank God so much that he let you two meet because you don’t know how you will ever survive this world without him in your life.

“I’m overwhelmed,” you sighed shakily, “everything is too much and I can’t even relax properly. I…”

Cheol scrunched his eyebrows in confusion when you didn’t continue your train of thought only to hear you sniffling and feel your body shake a bit from trying not to cry.

“Its okay, love. Let it out.”

And then the dam broke.

You told him how your work was piling up and everything was just so stressful. You also told him about the disappointment you felt when your workmates left you all alone while struggling to meet a deadline on time when they promised you that they will help. In short, you have vomited every single slight inconvenience and big event in your life that happened in the course of a few days to your boyfriend. Your sweet and caring boyfriend who’s listening intently to every single word you’re saying.

By the time you were done, the sun was beginning to rise. You can hear the sounds of the nature around you waking up as Seungcheol wipes your tears and hug you tightly. You can feel him kiss your hair, stroking it in an attempt to ground you. You both stayed like that for a few more minutes before Cheol made you both sit up to face each other.

“You do know you can share anything with me, right?” He cupped your face with his hands, forcing you to look into his sincere eyes.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So the next time you feel like this, will you please go straight to me?”

You felt your lips quiver due to the intense sincerity that you felt from his words. You observed his face, memorizing every detail and imprinting them into your brain.

“I will.”

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises

Seuncheol smiled in relief before hugging you once again, pulling your head to rest on his chest as he enveloped you with his arms. Maybe you’ll have a hard time letting him be a shoulder for you to cry on but he vows to you and to himself that he will be there to catch you whenever you fall.

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Which joestar do you think would be the worst yandere? And why

Pick your poison! I like to think the Joestar’s all have their little traits that shine the most based on their personality (so whose the worst can depend on what you’re uncomfortable with). Going to do just the og verse jojo’s for this 1-6.

Jonathan : Very sweet almost intoxicatingly so, but he tends to end up a bit overprotective/just a bit babying. Insisting he does things for you, if you have some issue somewhere else? Why not let him resolve it. Don’t fret over too much he has the means to take care of you. There might be a time or two your room might be locked if you’re a little more stubborn than usual

Joseph: What is this thing called “personal space” ? It almost sounds like a foreign language to this man. He totally didn’t mess certain things up so you happen to meet up with him. Not sure why your date stood you up? He couldn’t possibly give an answer other than they’re not worth your time since they didn’t bother showing up. He should take you to this great place he loves going to after a long day.

Jotaro: Stalking type usually, and mows past anything that he might feel gets in the way of you and himself. He’s used to punks, so he’s not afraid to pummel someone if they don’t get the message to scram. When it comes to classes, he’s glancing at you every so often, maybe there’s a “doodle” or two in his notebook. Need to walk somewhere? He’ll walk with you. If you’re hiding out to be alone, he ends up finding you. You’re probably the reason he learns any building’s layout in the first place. Clubs or class cleaning doesn’t stop Jotaro either, he’ll wait as long as it takes. Being sick at home doesn’t stop him either, usually there’s some kind of hot soup/dish that’s good to eat while sick sitting in your room somehow. (Not to mention potential kidnapping later down the line if you’re not really cooperating)

Later Parts like 4 and 6, he’s pretty similar in dropping you off things even if you never once told him your address. (He has a decent memory of these things). Similarly Jotaro has any phone numbers you have in his contacts, and he’ll have a talk personally with anyone that he isn’t fond of approaching you. He tends to have you in the back of his mind while out on his studies, or writing a paper, and yet again drawings somewhere he’s compelled to place them. Every so often he checks in on you (whether you want this or not doesn’t matter). Broken down car? It’s either replaced swiftly or he’s driving you places himself. Maybe he somehow (forces) nudges you to live with him.

Josuke : He’s head over heels for you, and similar to Joseph he’s going to take any opportunity to squeeze himself into your life. He just so happens to have some leftover lunch from that place you like? You looked sad when they had sold out of your favorite meal there, so why doesn’t he help with that? Speaking of, maybe your eyes are drifting somewhere else. He steals any potential love letters to a crush and rewrites them, making it look like you’re confessing to him. He may also leave one of your favorite treats you like in its place. It’s an enigma to you how he found that out.

Giorno : He’s the don of the Italian mafia, he’s almost constantly worried about you. So if he has eyes on you, it’s almost immediate you lose autonomy whether born in Italy or a tourist. He’s clever in his ways to trap you, whether you’re resistant or not doesn’t matter. (he does think you’re cute with a strong head on your shoulders). There’s some of that charisma he possess all the same just like his father. Even if it doesn’t work on you, it makes others around you to trap you easily. Giorno likes to think he gives you a lot of leeway with voluntarily coming to him. He’ll meet you casually in coffee shops or wherever you’re willing to shop at. The bill is covered without you having to say a word. Any cash you used is miraculously brought back to you somehow. The blond isn’t afraid to get his hands a little dirty however when it comes to you. If he has to take something for you to step into his arms (whether it’s your ability to walk around outside or someone close to you) he’ll do whatever it takes.

Jolyne : Sure she stalks somewhat, but like her father she can be bold in taking care of the competition. She’s not afraid to hold your hand or finding a way for you two to do so. Eavesdropping is something she does occasionally, and anyone that wants to stomp on your heart is going to get stomped themselves. She does delay you with stone free (or outright captures you) if Jolyne doesn’t want you to leave. It’s impossible to shake her off, no matter what you try to do. Of course she made a copy of your apartment key, what if there’s an emergency? Maybe she wanted to make you breakfast. Huh? What do you mean she can’t just walk in unannounced? Don’t be ridiculous.

[neo-novaa]

bitter

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ethan landry x reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drunk confessions, .2 seconds of angst, no spoilers :)

*ੈ✩ 𝐚/𝐧: part 1 of 2!! i swear i promise, i pinkie promise that part 2 will come out today

you don’t get jealous, ever. 

it was your (albeit private ) defining feature. you were content with everything you had— no, beyond content: you were happy. you didn’t want anything else because you didn’t need anything else. you had a good family, enough money to keep you from debt, good friends, and even better academics. 

so imagine your surprise when you get that bitter feeling boiling in your stomach at the sight of your “friend,” ethan landry, eyeing another girl. 

you’re being very liberal with the term “friend,” but it’s only because you can’t think of a word to describe someone you’d been hanging out with for a few months, talking and treating them as a friend, but going home and imagining what it’d be like to fuck them senseless.

you’d probably call it a crush, but “friend” sounded much less embarrassing. 

but it’s all going on at some stupid party for some stupid celebration you couldn’t care less about; all you wanted to do was get drunk enough to barely avoid a hangover. you went with your small group of friends, and eventually forced yourself to socialize once you had some juice in your system. 

and it was when you were talking to some pretty girl from your liberal arts class when you saw him: leaning against the wall, red solo cup in hand, eyes stuck on a girl in a halter top with patterned shorts to match— a girl standing right across from you. 

and maybe it was something in the way his fingers were tapping on the plastic cup, or the twitching of his knee, or the way that he just refused take his fucking eyes off of her—

it set you off. 

suddenly you found yourself at a table full of cheap bottles of booze, and your plastic cup was full, brimming with whatever concoction of cheap seltzer and even cheaper tequila you could find. soon enough, you were weaving and dodging your way through the sweaty masses to try and find an exit.

finally, after eons (three minutes) of searching, you managed to find yourself a door, and relished in the early spring chill that hit your skin.

you tried to drink and forget, seeing as though that was the whole reason you came out here. but no matter how much jungle juice you downed, you found your mind wandering back to him.

you couldn’t stop thinking about how ethan refused to look at anyone but her, how even when people greeted him, he waved them off without even looking at them. and you couldn’t stop thinking about the way she was dancing, as if she was born to do so, and how he wouldn’t stop fucking staring at her.

you weren’t jealous— you didn’t get jealous. this wasn’t jealousy, it was just…

just what, envy? envious of what? of some dork you’ve grown particularly fond of eyeing some random girl at this stupid frat party? of the guy you’ve been harboring a crush on for months staring at a girl he didn’t even know? of ethan landry, the boy you hadn’t stopped thinking of for months, thinking about anyone but you?

no, you weren’t envious. what could you possibly be envious of?

“what are you doing out here?”

you jump at ethans voice, beginning to feel particularly sluggish— when did your cup get so light? as a matter of fact, when did it get empty?

“i could ask you the same thing,” you say, finding it increasingly difficult to formulate words. 

“it got too sweaty and crowded in there,” he sits down next to you, bringing his arms close to his torso at the sudden cold breeze. “i always forget how much i hate coming to these parties.”

“then why do you keep coming?” you raise the cup to your lips, frowning when you remember its lack of contents. 

he doesn’t say anything.

“is it because of a girl?” you see him tense from the corner of your vision, however foggy it may be. 

ethans shaking his head. “what makes you say that?”

you shrug, carefully placing the cup by your feet. “i saw you looking at her,” his shoulders drop, and you can’t help but feel something in your chest drop too. “she’s really pretty, i think i have a few classes with her.”

“i really don’t know what you’re talking about.” he feigns ignorance, the coward.

“come on ethan, don’t pretend to be stupid, i know you’re smarter than that.” a chill runs down your spine, you tell yourself its not from the sudden realization of your close proximity to him, but instead because of the cool air around you. 

“wait, are you…” he turns to you. “are you jealous?”

you scoff. “jealous? i don’t get jealous e—than,” you hiccup between the syllables of his name.

“you know, i have a tendency to misread situations, but you…” he pauses to take a dramatic breath. “you seem really jealous.”

“okay, sure but…why would i be jealous, hm? it’s not like i make the rules on what girls you can and can’t look at.” you’re staring into his eyes. those wonderful, beautiful, adjective-ful eyes that make you want to start screaming and shaking and crying and throwing up. 

you can’t stop looking at his eyes, and you can feel your gaze flitting between the two.  

you want ethan to quip back with something sharp and cleaver, but he doesn’t. he just turns away from you, shrugs, and keeps on nursing the drink in his hand. 

for a moment, you feel guilty, another feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while. maybe that made you a good person, or maybe that just made you a socially inept asshole. 

you don’t know why you feel guilty, but you suspect it has something to do with how silent ethan is, or how his brows are leaning with regret, or how his shoulder are slumped much more than they were a second ago. 

“i wasn’t looking at her,” ethan mutters, breaking your shared silence. “i was…looking at someone else.”

you want to curse him out because, really, why did it matter if he was looking at another girl? it was someone who wasn’t you, and that’s all that mattered. 

“i don’t care ethan, it’s not that serious—” you cut yourself off when you turn to him, frozen in how quickly you drown in his puppy dog eyes. 

and then it hits you. 

he wasn’t looking at that girl, he was looking at someone else.

he was looking— 

“at you.”

oh.

oh.

you want to say something, you really do. in any other situation, if it played out exactly like this but minus the alcohol, you’d be able to come up with some poetic ass speech about love and devotion and life—

but you’re drunk, and you can’t think. you don’t want to think. 

so instead, you act. 

instead, you kiss him. 

your hands are grasping at his shirt and you’re kissing him hard. you don’t care if it’s sloppy or bad, you just care that you’re kissing him.

and, obviously, ethan cares too. 

because in a moment, one of his hands are brushing the crook of your neck, and his other arm is shaking around your waist. you know your breath tastes like black cherry white claw and dollar store tequila, but with the way ethan was kissing you, it was as if you were the best thing he’d ever had in his life.

it’s like he’s starving— as if he’s been waiting for this for months. and you wonder, passively, if he’d been pining for you all this time as well. you want to ask him, but asking him would mean you’d have to stop kissing him, and at this point you’d rather die than have that happen. 

so you’re quick to pull yourself onto his lap, stradding one of his thighs. you’ve just started to work with the hem of his shirt and god just feeling his v-line makes you dizzy— but ethan pulls away, and you feel your jaw slack at the sight of his lust-blown pupils and spit-kissed lips.

“as much as i want this to happen,” you note how heavy he’s breathing. “i really wouldn’t want to have sex with you on the front steps of a house party.”

you’re standing up with a curt nod, pulling ethan by the hand as you back up.

“also my room is like, twelve minutes away—”

“my house is just down the block, and my roommates are gone for the weekend.”

ethan glances towards the direction that you gestured in, and nearly trips over his shoes as you start walking towards it. 

“yeah, that actually sounds perfect.” 

all the way home, neither one of you can stop imagining what it’s going to be like to get fucked senseless.

[summerslashers]

Beginning: Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Summary: You meet Tommy for the very first time as his new neighbor. He takes an immediate liking to you. Part Two

Warnings: you may die of cuteness overload

Author’s Note: I decided to make another fic about meeting Tommy and I think I like this one better :) I hope you guys like it too.

You waited anxiously at the front door to the large house, holding a plate of freshly baked, warm cookies and a small bouquet of wildflowers that you found near your home. You were really hoping to make a good first impression with your new neighbors- your only neighbors by the look of it as there wasn’t anyone else around for miles. Just yesterday you moved to the small town in Texas, in a cozy one story ranch right across the street from where you stood. The house before you seemed to be the complete opposite of your little home, unlike anything you expected to find in a quaint town like this. It was practically a mansion, two stories tall with a huge yard and a long dirt driveway.

You heard loud heavy footsteps from behind the door and you took a small step back, hoping that you still looked presentable even after your short walk in the dry Texas heat.

In an instant, the door swung open and slammed loudly against the house, causing you to jump, looking up at the man in the doorway with gentle, yet slightly alarmed eyes. He was big- intimidatingly big. He was taller than anyone you had seen before and incredibly broad. He had longish, dark hair, a half masked face, and oh- the most soft blue eyes you had ever seen despite his furrowed brows.

“Hello,” you offered him a kind smile, your cheeks growing warm. “My name is y/n. I just moved in across the street and wanted to come over and introduce myself.”

The large man didn’t say anything, his fingers twitching anxiously at his sides as though he wasn’t sure what to do. He looked into your eyes for a moment and then glanced down at your hands, his head tilting curiously to the side ever so slightly.

“Oh-“ you remembered the large plate in your hands and smiled, understanding his silent inquiry. “I made cookies if you’d like them. There’s two different kinds. These ones are white chocolate and raspberry, and these are chocolate chip. I wasn’t sure which ones you might like so I decided to make both. I hope that’s okay-”

Thomas’ eyes softened as you spoke, and he couldn’t seem to ignore the warmth that settled in his chest and occasionally worked its way up to his cheeks. You were just too cute, and no one had ever been so kind to him before. Most people who met him would call him cruel names or give him dirty looks, but not you. Instead, you simply spoke to him and looked into his eyes with a certain fondness, smiling up at him so sweetly.

Once again, the man said nothing, and you wondered if perhaps he didn’t speak at all. He wasn’t ignoring you, that much you could tell. He looked into your eyes and listened as you spoke, not once making you feel as though you were bothering him, so you continued.

“Um- these are for you too-” You blushed and held out the neatly arranged bouquet of Texas bluebonnets and purple coneflowers, the stems tied neatly with white ribbon. Now that you were actually gifting them, you worried that it looked silly to be handing over wildflowers that practically grew everywhere. Tommy noticed the way you became even more shy, your hands shaking just slightly as you held out the flowers. He took them carefully, his calloused fingertips brushing gently against your fingers as he did so, making you blush even harder.

“I found them just outside my house and thought they were really pretty. I hope you like them.”

Thomas nodded his head and you smiled brightly. The bouquet looked so small in his large hand, but he held it so delicately, careful not to bend or crush the little flowers. He looked down to admire the purple petals and silky white ribbon for a moment, and then he looked back at you. Though the rest of his face remained expressionless, his eyes were gentle and kind.

Your cheeks grew warm and you felt butterflies in your stomach. He hadn’t even said anything- he didn’t need to say anything. You simply knew that you liked him, that you were captivated by the silent, strong man in front of you.

Suddenly, the man reached into his pocket, pulling out what looked to be a photo. You watched him curiously as he reached out, hesitating for just a moment before handing the photo to you. You accepted it gently, looking at it with a soft smile. It was a little baby with big eyes and dark hair, and some facial deformities around the mouth and nose. You looked up at the man whose hands were once again fidgeting anxiously at his sides.

“Is this you?” You asked him softly. He nodded and reached out for the photo, carefully flipping it over in your hand, and suddenly you realized why he was showing it to you. On the back it read in nice, feminine handwriting, “Thomas Brown Hewitt 1st Birthday”. He was telling you his name.

“Thomas,” you smiled at him, testing out the name. “You were a very cute baby.”

Thomas blushed, his cheeks growing hot and eyes widening. He liked the way you said his name- how you called him cute. He liked you… a lot. He watched you take one last look at the photo before returning it to him with a content smile.

“I wish I could stay, but I should be getting home soon.” You said apologetically. “I’ve still got a lot of unpacking to do. It’s been really nice meeting you, Thomas.”

You handed him the plate of cookies with a smile. “I hope I see you again soon.”

He nodded, the warm feeling never once leaving his chest, not even as you walked away from him and towards your house. Tommy wanted to see you again too- no- needed to see you again. He had only just met you but he already felt so drawn to you. You were kind and caring, and he longed to have you in his life- to see you smile again and listen to your voice as you spoke to him so sweetly. You were special to him. His ray of sunshine in a dark and dreary life. And he would wait as long as he needed to to see his sunshine again.

[fyoxi]

୨ৎ 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 . . . ft. fyodor dostoevsky

fyodor dostoevsky x f.reader. hurt -> comfort-ish. bsd spoilders from ch. 53 on. brief mentions of a somewhat codependent relationship.

fyodor doesn't like leaving you in the dark. he can't tell you everything of course, though only for your own safety. he does try his best to tell you everything he can, so at least he knows you're worrying about him even just a tiny bit less.

but there are some things, albeit very few, that are out of his control. his capture and arrest had completely blindsided him, and he had no possible way of letting you know where he was, or what was going on, from that moment on.

his arrest was one of the few times in his entire life he felt genuine fear. not from being arrested. it was a type of fear that he felt deep in my bones, twisting like a boulder in his gut. it felt like the fear he had caused his whole body to shut down. he was afraid he'd never find his way back to you. you'd be left in the dark about where he was, if he was hurt, if he was even alive. and he'd have to sit in a cell knowing he could do nothing to ease your suffering.

his arrest was also the first time in his life he had felt such desperation. he pleaded, practically begged, the officers at meursault to let him write to you. but they all denied his pleas. even seeming to enjoy that they were able to deprive the fyodor dostoevsky, one of the world's most wanted ability users, of something he so clearly was desperate for.

it was pathetic, he thought, how every guard he encountered behind the prison's walls seemed to giggle gaggle about his situation. despite the fact that everyone in the room knew that if fyodor had been able to wield his ability, they'd all cower in fear.

but now they chucked and whispered amongst themselves as they stripped him of all of his belongings, including his wedding band. which he watched as it was tossed so carelessly into a bag, and he knew he'd probably never see it again.

they were harsh as they slammed the steel cuffs on his wrists and shoved his head down as they guided him to his cell. the cramped space that would essentially be his home for the foreseen future.

fyodor thought about you every moment he was awake. every passing thought he had would eventually come back to you.

when he was brought his meals, he'd think about all the meals you made him. cooked with so much care, and thought behind. making the best meals possible to help with his poor health. every soup, or sauce, or marinate soaking with that silly iron fish you were so fond of. but you swore boiling it in with his food would help his deficiency. and it could have been the iron fish, or it could have been love, but he did feel the healthiest he's ever been since he's been with you.

when he was laying down to sleep, he'd think of you. how he had taken for granted how comfortable the bed he shared with you was. how the mattress was so soft his body sunk into it. and he never thought he would miss such a thing, but he longed to have to move the obscene amount of plushies and decorative pillows off the bed before he could lay down.

even when he was plotting and scheming a way out, the thoughts mostly revolved around coming home to you. he promised himself he'd get out. of course he would.

there was no question that he'd slip his way out, the way it's certain that a rat would squeeze through the smallest of cracks. it was certain that fyodor would make his way back to you. the question was how, and when. the only sure thing about his plan, aside from its inevitable success, was that the very first thing he would do would finally return home.

. . . .

you learned of fyodor's arrest through the newspaper.

he hadn't returned home the day he promised, and while you were worried beyond measure, you had managed to convince yourself — somewhat — that he would be home very soon.

you missed him dearly, but life needed to move on. that's what fyodor always told you "i may be away, but your life must still go on, milaya"

you saw the paper on display in a shop while you were picking up groceries. out of the corner of your eye you saw the front page, and immediately recognized fyodor.

it felt like the headline had crushed you immediately, and despite the words from fyodor that you tried to live by when he was away, the whole world seemed to freeze in its place. at least your world did.

while the whole world moved on around you, it felt like you were stuck in place. pinned down by a weight that felt like a hundred tons blanketing your whole body.

for almost a year fyodor was gone, and you barely managed to keep things moving. doing the bare minimum to keep things in your home running. everyday seemed to bleed together, and day and night no longer had any difference to you.

the dependency you had on fyodor wasn't something you were completely proud of. but you couldn't really help it. even before him something in you felt hollow. you got on just fine, but it always felt like something was missing. a feeling that only went away when your life had collided with fyodor's.

you and fyodor had connected so deeply from the moment you had met each other for the very first time. your lives and souls so intertwined that fyodor being gone felt like a part of yourself had gone away with him.

most days you spent laying on the couch. you had moved to spending most of your time in the living room. the bedroom was too big for just you. the bed was too cold and empty without fyodor to share it with, so you had taken to the couch. spending nights lulling yourself to sleep with fantasies of fyodor returning home, and your days staring at the front door. hoping that the door knob would turn, and fyodor would come in.

a day dream you had fallen so deeply into at times that you had managed to convince yourself it would really happen. sometimes finding yourself practically sprinting towards the front door at the slightest noise. it was always a disappointment that left you in a weeping pile on the living room floor.

eventually you somehow managed to stop yourself from making a scene at every little noise. but despite your best efforts, you just couldn't get yourself to accept that fyodor would never come home. you still had hope that you'd be with him again.

this day was just like every other day before it. you barely managed to get through even the smallest of household chores before you took to the couch again. staring at the front door, zoning out as you tuned out the random talk show you put on in the background to pretend that you had company. though it did very little, almost nothing, to ease your loneliness.

and the doorknob jiggled.

this was really a new low for you. had your day dreams become so vivid out of your desperation that you had actually started seeing them ? how pathetic you'd become. you wondered if fyodor would be ashamed of how desperate you'd become.

and the doorknob shook again.

there was a muffled mumbling outside, accompanied by a series of the door knob twisting and shaking. like someone on the other side of the door had stuck something in the lock in place of a key to try and open the door.

you sat up right on the couch, staring at the door. your mind rushed with a thousand thoughts. a break in ? your landlord wondering where you've been ? maybe someone had mistaken your apartment for their own ?

a thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but one stuck out that made your stomach light up with butterflies and nerves all at the same time. surely... this couldn't be fyodor.

you sat up straight as a pin, staring at the door with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights, as you watched the lock turn and the door open.

fyodor closed the door behind him, and time felt like it was standing still as he stood in front of the door. neither of you moved. you couldn't believe it was real. or you wouldn't let yourself believe it.

"milaya.." fyodor finally said. he spoke the word with a heavy exhale, like he had been holding his breath for so long, only letting it go when he said the name.

hearing him was all the confirmation you needed. lunging up from your place on the couch, and cried out his name, colliding hard against his chest, it was almost painful, but you didn't care. you didn't even think about it.

your legs latching around his waist. it knocked fyodor back, using his hand to brace himself against the wall, and holding you up as tight as he could with his other arm. his time in prison had left him in the worst physical state he's ever been in.

you tried hard to form words, but all that came out was a mix of heavy sobs and cries of his name. and fyodor didn't bother to start a conversation, leaning his body against the door to be able to hold you.

he absolutely reeked. the smell of dried blood, build up of body order, and stale water all mixed together. but just in this moment, you wouldn't have been able to tell that scent from the smell of a basket of freshly picked berries, or the top of a baby's head. to you, with your face tucked into the side of his neck, he smelled like the sweetest thing in the world.

"im home, milaya" fyodor said as your cries turned to soft sniffles and whimpers, his voice was raspy and weak, he sounded out of breath and sickly.

"you're home" you repeated, your own voice shaky, on the verge of breaking into sobs again.

"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."

fyodor's apology was simple. but 'sorry' was not an emotion fyodor often had the need for. so when he said it, when he said it to you, he meant it.

his apology was met only with another quiet sob, your tears running down the side of his neck, soaking into the collar of the prison attire he was still dressed in. fyodor felt his own eyes burning, his own tears threatening to make an appearance.

he could only imagine the suffering you'd been through this past year. but he knew it was tenfold worse than his own. while he knew that you were alive and well at home, as he was rotting in his cell planning his escape, you had no idea what the state of his well-being was. you spent the last year wondering if your husband was dead or alive.

he never wanted that for you. he took your marriage, his vows to you so seriously. you had been joined in the name of god, and it was his job to protect you from such suffering. he felt like he had failed. fyodor never failed. at least never on something he held so deep in his heart.

"i'm sorry" he said again

there was another long moment of silence, your sniffles and fyodor's shaky breaths as his own tears ran down his face being the only noises filling the air.

it was a while before you took a deep breath and spoke again. "you stink," you said. your blunt words were an attempt to lighten things up. it was a joyful reunion of course, but the heavy fog caused by the suffering of being apart for so long had not yet been lifted.

"i know" fyodor nodded, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve, trying to regain his composure.

fyodor kept you in his arms as he made his way towards the bedroom, using the wall to assist him. his steps were slow, and his legs were shaky, but he didn't once ever think of putting you down until he was able to set you down on the edge of the bed.

he squeezed your hand, firm but gentle, before going to the dresser to grab a fresh pair of lounging clothes.

"i'm filthy, milaya"

"you gonna shower ?" you asked him. he nodded in response. "i didn't get rid of any of your things," you said, getting up to follow him into the bathroom.

"i know" he said with a slight nod, and a little smile. "i know, you didn't"

you sat down on the closed toilet seat, your knees pulled up under your chin as fyodor turned the shower on and began undressing, tossing the prison uniform in the direction of the trash can rather than the laundry hamper.

your heart sunk as you saw the state his body was in. of course you noticed how unstable he was when he was carrying you, but his physical state was a wreck. his skin was shades paler than it usually was. it looked drained of all colors. leaving his body a sick gray color. and he had become so thin, like he had become nothing but a skeleton wrapped with skin. his rib and hip bones stuck out. his body looked like he was a dead man walking.

"i'll be okay, milaya" fyodor reassured you as he stepped into the shower, like he was reading your mind.

you stayed in your place on the toilet seat as you waited for fyodor to shower. you still felt a deep seated worry that this was all in your imagination, and if you left the bathroom fyodor would simply disappear again.

it took fyodor quite a few washes of his hair and body before he finally felt clean. by the time it was done, most of his products were empty.

he turned the water off, and slid open the curtain "could you hand me a towel, please ?" he asked

you nodded, quickly getting up to grab a towel from the rack in the connected bedroom. you handed it to fyodor, who was shivering as he stood naked in the shower, hair dripping wet.

he ran the towel over his head before wrapping it around his waist, and stepping out of the shower. you took your place back on the toilet as he brushed his teeth, scrubbing maybe a little too rough with his toothbrush.

he spit into the sink, spitting up globs of blood along with spit. you watched as he used his hand to rinse out the sink and his mouth with water, before filling a cap full of the mouthwash from the cupboard.

everything in the house was still in the same place as it was when he left home the last time. his hand gripped the side of the sink, groaning in pain as the alcohol based mouthwash burned the tiny cuts in his mouth from brushing so hard. he spit in the sink and rinsed it out one more time before turning off the water, and dressing himself in the comfortable lounging clothes he had pulled out before.

"do you feel better ?" you asked

fyodor nodded, taking a deep breath that seemed to allow his whole body to finally relax as he exhaled it. "much better"

he nodded towards your bedroom "bed ?" he asked. you nodded eagerly, having been so desperate to finally be back in bed with him after so long.

fyodor made his way to the bedroom, taking off all the plushies and decorative pillows off the bed, and placing them down on the ground. and he honestly couldn't think of a single complaint about it. maybe he didn't entirely understand the need for the over consumption of anything and everything soft, but he understood now that this wouldn't be your home without them.

in almost comical, the synced movements you made as you both got into bed and under the covers. you moved as close as you could to fyodor. it still didn't feel close enough. you wished you could merge into him, to become one. you never wanted to be away from him again. you wanted nothing more in the world then to be with him every second for the rest of your life.

"i'm glad you're home" you whispered

"i'm never leaving again" fyodor responded, thin fingers running across your hair

"you promise ?" you asked, your voice shakey, on the verge of tears again.

"i swear my life to god. i am never leaving you again, milaya"