#I have to lead him there step by step hahaha

[oooohno]

on a scale of one to never, how likely would it be for smoker to dress up as a pirate for halloween if you asked him to 🎤

Aims I love this so much hahahahha!!! I think if I asked him he would vehemently say no so I’ll have to choose a different approach…I’ll probably start by convincing him to go out for Halloween with me…then that he should wear different clothes bc he can’t go out in his regular marine uniform…maybe I’ll convince him to dress up as a ‘vampire’ with a flowy blouse & leather pants…and then right before we leave I put a pirate hat on him 😈

[bee-wg]

Year 2:

“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.

“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.

“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.

”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”

“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.

“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.

Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.

Theo rushed down with a constipated face. 

“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”

Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it. 

I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.

That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded. 

“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.

“What?…But…You can’t do that.” 

His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”

***

“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.

This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence. 

I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.

I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.

“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.

Trying not to wheeze, I replied.

“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.” 

It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”

“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.

“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.

“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.

“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”

“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.

***

I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.

The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.

I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.

“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.

“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”

“Thank you, here’s your number.”

After what felt like forever, they finally called my number. 

It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it. 

I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer. 

As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.

Wait, is he from the team? 

Wait, is that Aiden?

No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?

He’s probably waving to someone else.

Then the door’s jingle chimes.

“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.

My alone time is ruined.

“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.

“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.

“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.

“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.” 

I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.

“Yeah, my mom hates them to-” 

“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.

”What?”

Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.

“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.

He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.

“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.

“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”

Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.

He is actually quite chill to talk to. 

“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.

“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”

“I could finish it for you.” I offered.

“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.

“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.

By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home. 

My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.

Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour. 

I picked up the call.

“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.

“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.

“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?” 

I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.

“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.

What the hell is up with these people? 

“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”

“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”

I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.

Brad is calling me. Again.

“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.

“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”

“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.

What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.

“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.

I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.

The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual. 

Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.

He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.

“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.

Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.

“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”

“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”

“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”

“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.

“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”

“…”

“…”

“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”

He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.

Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.

He responded with a toothy grin.

“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”

“There are five of you,” I said.

“Marcus can help,” Brad added.

“Wait, me?” Marcus said.

He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.

“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.

The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.

We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch

It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.

For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.

The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.

I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?

Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space. 

It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.

By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.

That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.

“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.

“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.

“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.

“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”

Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.

That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.

“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.

“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.

“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.

“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.

”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.

“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“ 

”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.

He smiled 

Yes! Crises subverted.

“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.

The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.

He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.

Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.

“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.

“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.

“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.

Is he trying to rizz my cousin?

“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.

Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.

“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.

“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.

“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.

After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.

“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.

I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.

The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.

What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.

I would be angry at myself too.

Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.

“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.

She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.

“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.

He said my full name. He never says my full name.

“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.

“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.

“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”

“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.

We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.

I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.

Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.

We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.

Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.

He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.

I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites. 

He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.

I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.

“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.

“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.

“Thanks man, appreciate it.”

He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.

We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.

“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.

I smiled for the first time today.

Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food. 

I’ll get my share. Old people first.

“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said. 

“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”

He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.

Avery and I used to-

Wait, Avery is here?

I looked around to scan everyone.

“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”

“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.

I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.

We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.

Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.

“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.

“Wait, you still have your-“

He ditched me.

I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.

“You need help?”

“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.

Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.

“I thought you were,” I said.

“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.

“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.

“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.

Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.

He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.

“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.

“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.

“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.

“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”

Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.

Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.

He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.

He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.

We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.

I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.

It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.

“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”

Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.

“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.

“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.

I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.

For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him

Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.

The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.

Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog. 

I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.

My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.

Chapter 3 ->

[meiieiri]

𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 [gojo satoru]

HC: GOJO JUST CAN’T SEEM TO GET HIS SERVANT GIRL OUT OF HIS HEAD.

WARNINGS: fluff! sickening blegh blegh fluff. maybe some undertones of misogyny but that’s only because i lowkey have a thing for naoya zenin please don’t judge me, please don’t. and i know, i know, i’m sorry for the late updates, but i’m working on the new chapter of WE as fast as i can, hahaha. just feeling so demotivated lately so i decided to write something new for a bit.

╰┈➤ gojo satoru who falls harder and harder for you everyday as you dutifully help him with his kimono, prepare his bath, and plan out his meals. one day, i’ll marry her, satoru vows silently as he watches you brew his hōjicha just the way he likes it.

╰┈➤ gojo satoru who waits for you at every blind corridor in the gojo estate, hoping to steal a kiss from you while you’re working. “satoru—!” what was he thinking, pulling you into a searing kiss while you carried a laundry basket full of his clothes? he finds it cute how you instinctively melted in the feeling of his luscious lips, clumsily dropping the laundry basket on the hardwood floor. “is my little servant distracted? tsk, tsk. we can’t have that, can we?” he grins against your lips but before he could lean in for another kiss, he takes a step back. “get back to work, (y/n)-chan~” he waves to you as he struts down the hall.

╰┈➤ gojo satoru is a bold man when it comes to sashaying around his clan’s vast banquet hall, purposefully keeping you within ten feet of him as he speaks to the other clan heads, indirectly showing you off in the new yukata he got for you. though his only concern about the yukata is how troublesome it’ll be to take it off of you and he really doesn’t want to rip another piece from your wardrobe. as you pour him another cup of sake, he wonders if he should’ve just bought you a lingerie set instead.

╰┈➤ gojo satoru has gotten used to his mother nagging him about getting married soon. his family has been growing impatient since the day he turned twenty-six for satoru to find an upstanding lady from another one of the big three clans of jujutsu. he’s seen countless women, been forced to kiss the backs of their hands, and he’d pull through outstandingly - charming one bridal candidate after another who’ve no idea that the entire time, satoru is thinking of the little lady he keeps back home in the gojo estate.

╰┈➤ gojo satoru who takes your hand one day and says: “follow me.” he leads you into the tea room, and finally reveals what the two of you have in front of his elders as he slips an engagement ring, a family heirloom, onto your finger unbothered that the elders whispered among themselves about how shameful it would be for the greatest sorcerer of this generation were to get married to some nobody. “i’d sooner drop dead than see our clan head getting married to this whore!” one of his elders snarls at you, instinctively causing satoru to shield you from them. his face hardens as he speaks his next homicide-coded words. “that could be arranged, auntie.”

╰┈➤ gojo satoru who purposefully chooses a rainy day for your wedding date, so no one could see the joyful tears streaming down his cheeks as he finally makes you irrevocably his.

[mydearesthrry]

casual - h.s.

a/n: self indulgent because i will never get over the fact that half of this happened to me literally verbatim because im a loser ok bye. this is my way of coping enjoy please i got so carried away ugh the impact of a british man hahaha. i suggest casual by chappell roan or …what are we? by lizzy mcalpine

wc: im guessing 1k>

warnings: angst thats really it harry’s lowkey a cunt but its not him ok. THIS IS FRAT BOY HARRY FOR THIS ONE!!!

y/n was startled to see her front door swing open, harry stepping into the threshold to get away from the cold air outside. “hi baby.”

“hey, h,” she replied, stepping up from her place on the couch to meet him where he was toeing off his shoes. “how was your day?”

y/n’s hands ran up his chest to his shoulders, pushing his coat off his figure and hooking it on the coatrack. “it was okay, how was yours?”

“fine, thank you,” she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “tired, i guess.”

“that’s not good, princess, you need to get your sleep. can’t have my pretty girl all sleepy, hm?” he grinned, wrapping his arms around the girl and pressing a kiss into her temple.

“yeah, just had a lot on my mind recently, i guess.” she says through a sigh, unwrapping harry’s arms from her body, walking away from him toward the kitchen.

“like what?” harry questioned, following behind her like a puppy.

“i… nothing, it’s not important,” she considered it. she really did. but it just… she couldn’t find it in herself to ruin what they had so easily. to ruin them so easily. “don’t worry about me, really.”

harry physically recoiled as if he’d been burnt, “i want to worry about you, y/n. i want you to be okay, always.” he’d used her real name— a true indication that she’d offended him.

“i- i know, i’m sorry. i jus’ don’t wanna bother you with my stupid stuff.” she glanced up at him through her lashes, refusing to make eye contact.

“it it has to do with you, it’s not stupid. now, tell me, princess, what’s wrong?” he tried once more. he could tell that she was getting closer to telling him the truth, he just needed to coax it out of her.

“can we sit?” she asked, harry immediately nodding and grabbing her hand to lead her over.

“so, what’s on your mind?”

“i’m scared to tell you.”

harry looked confused then. “why?”

“because… if you don’t know, and i don’t know, then it doesn’t make sense for this to keep happening,” she paused. “and i don’t want to lose you.”

“wait, what are we even talking about? lose me? why would you lose m-“

“you confuse me.” that’s definitely one way to put it.

“what?” harry tilted his head, his hand still covering hers.

“i- it’s just, sometimes i really can’t tell if you want me, or if you’re just keeping me around just to keep me around. like, sometimes you treat me so platonically it confuses me, and then other times you’re rattling off how i’m the only one for you. i know we said no strings, i know, but i know you don’t really see me as a friend. there’s no way that this is just casual, harry.”

harry didn’t know what to say. staring down at their intertwined hands, he cleared his throat and bit at his lip.

“what is it, please just tell me what’s on your mind,” y/n pleaded, squeezing his hands.

“i… honestly don’t know, my love, im sorry,” he finally said, but he chose to twist the knife. “i don’t know what we are.”

oh.

oh.

“oh, um,” she whispered, sliding her legs off of harry’s knees, withdrawing her hands from his grasp to slide under her thighs. “yeah, i… i didn’t think you would.”

“i’m sorry, princess. you won’t lose me though, y’do know that, right?” he could sense her sadness like it was his own. his phone ringing distracted her from her thoughts, the name reading ‘Claire’, making a scoff leave her lips.

“go handle business, i’ll be upstairs.” y/n said coolly, standing from the couch once more. as she began her trek to the stairs, harry grabbed her wrist.

“don’t be like that.” he grumbled, pressing the pressure point between her thumb and pointer finger.

“be like what? i’m gonna go take a nap, didn’t you just tell me to get some rest?” she smiled, but he could see the hurt in her eyes.

not exclusive, more than friends, less than lovers. how could she be so naive?

“are you sure?”

“your phone’s still ringing.”

“that’s unimportant. are you okay?”

“peachy.”

he knew she was lying. he just didn’t know what she wanted to hear.

“okay, pretty girl, dream of me, yeah?”

“mhm. see you later, lock the door if you leave.”

“i will, i’m sorry.”

as she walked away, she could hear his voice fill the living room.

“hey angel, i’ll be there in 20.”

more than friends, less than lovers.

—

part 2

[puck-luck]

wedding crashers | jack hughes

warnings: semi public sex, pining on jack's side, older!reader (jack is 22, she is 26), unprotected p in v (always... do as i do not as i say, wrap it when you tap it), fingering, dirty talk, insinuation of oral (m & f receiving) pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader request: "jack hughes and a slightly older reader (like idk 3 years older maybe), i feel like he’s so sassy and cocky that he would go nuts if he was able to get an older girl hahaha, maybe it could be like a challenge type situation where they were bantering over whether he’d be any good in bed bc he’s “just a baby” or something so he has something to prove.. 🫣" wc: 4167

You’d first met Jack Hughes in 2015. You were at one of the USA Developmental games with Matthew, your best friend at the time, watching his brother play for the last time that year. Since it was Christmas just recently, this was the only time you’d get to see Matthew until who knew when. Even though it involved hockey, which always stole Matthew’s attention from you, you decided to join him anyway. It was Matthew that introduced you to the Hughes family, after you had commented on Quinn’s performance.

Jack was a goof from the get-go. He was fourteen when you met, so all of his attempts to flirt with you went nowhere. Well, they made it to the front seat of Matthew’s car, where you laughed about the younger boy’s boldness. He was a sweet boy, and cute in a way that made you want to pinch his cheeks, and you were able to watch him grow up and come into himself. 

Your friendship with Matthew had dwindled since he was drafted in 2016, but you were still close enough with his family to be invited to Brady’s wedding. It was there that Jack cornered you, hitting on you for the umpteenth time. Now, he was 22 years old, overconfident and cocky due to years of praise from not only his coaches and peers, but from every pretty girl that fell into his company. You were 26, mature and happy with the life you had made for yourself. 

Jack had never stopped chasing you, though it wasn’t an overbearing and constant chase. He was sure that he would conquer you someday, having never forgotten the way he rubbed himself raw after he had first met you and you had smiled in his direction. What can he say– he was fourteen and a pretty girl, an older girl had smiled at him. 

And, pleasantly tipsy, Jack had decided that today was that day.

He tore himself away from Luke, having delivered a new drink to his underage brother, and made his way to you. You were sitting with one of Brady and Matthew’s relatives, making small talk over a glass of white wine. Your legs were crossed in a way that Jack could only describe as dainty, your nails painted a pretty blush color that matched your dress. Jack licked his bottom lip when an image of your hand around his cock, with those painted nails contrasting the color of his member, flashed through his mind.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jack said, not really feeling sorry at all. He turned to you. “I was wondering if you’d join me for a dance.”

You smiled and shook your head slightly, a small laugh falling from your lips. “Sure, Jack.” To the Tkachuk relative, you excused yourself, standing to take Jack’s extended hand. You took a sip from your wine glass, polishing off the drink. 

Jack truly couldn’t have chosen a better moment to ask you to dance, as a new song began and decided for you, due to its pace, that the two of you would engage in a waltz of sorts. Jack wasn’t much of a dancer, but he was able to box step in time with the music and lead you through the dance. 

You had given Jack a knowing look when his hand found its way to the small of your back, threatening to dip dangerously onto the curve of your ass. Your hand rested on his shoulder, the other in his hand, held close to your bodies. 

Jack pulled you close to him, mere inches between your bodies. You laughed again, your head dipping to fall on his shoulder for a split second. 

“What?” Jack asked as you flicked your hair from your eyes with a slight tilt of your head. “You’re supposed to be close when you dance.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever you say, Jack.” Your voice was light, almost sing-songy. “Your intentions are nothing if not innocent, isn’t that right?”

“I just want to dance,” Jack deflected, but the smile on his face told you everything you needed to know. His eyes were shining, both from the drinks he had consumed and the charged energy between your bodies.

You raised your eyebrows and pursed your lips, trying to suppress a smile as you and Jack continued to stare at each other. You broke first, looking away and shaking your head.

“What?” Jack said. “You don’t believe me?”

“No, I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, I’m hurt by that.” Jack pouted, his bottom lip jutting out in a way that caught your attention. It was plush and pink and just a little cracked from sun exposure. You knew Jack had spent the beginning of the summer out on the lake, and his skin reflected that– both tan and sunkissed at once. 

Though you hated to admit it, Jack had grown up to be very attractive. He glowed, especially in the summer, especially when he had a few drinks in his system and he had grown a little more brash and a little more bold.

“Poor Jacky,” You teased. You tilted your head down and blinked up at him through your lashes, saying in a baby-voice: “I hurt the little baby’s feelings?”

“You did,” Jack agreed, his pout just becoming more exaggerated. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

Your whole body moved with your laugh this time. “I suppose you’re about to ask me to kiss it better.”

“Well, I was hoping for more than just a kiss,” Jack said, chuckling at your laughter. He licked his bottom lip before biting it in a cheeky smile, the apples of his cheeks prominent and pink. His teeth were a sharp white contrast to the red dusting across his cheeks, but you found yourself growing fond of that shameless smile the more you saw it.

“Jack, you’re a baby,” You laughed. “In the real world, you’d have just graduated college. I know things are different because you’re a big, famous hockey player and you’ve been doing this job for years, but the fact of the matter is that you’re just too young for me.”

Jack was unscathed by your rejection, just like he always was. He didn’t even mind that your tone was borderline condescending, like you were talking to a five year old instead of a grown adult. 

“Plus, Jacky–” You smiled, itching to hammer the final nail in this coffin. “You can’t handle a grown woman.”

His eyes grew dark at that. “I can handle a grown woman,” He stated, voice definite.

You threw your head back, not quite laughing, but not quite rolling your eyes in exasperation either.

Jack’s hand left yours and found your jaw in a flash, bringing your face back to his. “I can handle a grown woman,” He repeated. His gaze flickered down to your lips. “Let me prove it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes flickering down to his lips to match his motions. “In your dreams,” You denied, bringing your hand to his chest to put some distance between you.

Jack didn’t allow it. If anything, he pulled you closer. He pressed his hips into yours, took your hand off his chest and resumed its original dancing position. He tugged you tight to him, tight enough that you were looking over his shoulder and his mouth hovered right next to your ear.

“I’d be so good to you,” Jack whispered. Your eyes flickered around the room, but no one seemed perturbed by yours and Jack’s positioning. “I’ve had a long time to think about this, Y/N. Let me tell you what I’d do, what I have done in my dreams.”

You didn’t say anything, but the fingertips of the hand on his shoulder found the hair at the nape of Jack’s neck and stayed there.

“I always start by kissing you. Always. I’d start slow– just feeling how these pretty pink lips feel against mine. I’d wait for you to loosen up, to open your mouth and invite me in for more. I’m going to keep going slow, but I’m going to slide my tongue into your mouth and kiss you until I’ve figured out just what you taste like. Today, you’ll taste like your white wine at first, but I’m going to kiss you until I’ve deciphered your taste, Y/N.”

Jack moved his hand to your waist and squeezed gently.

“I’d start with my hands here, but I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I’ll start moving, feeling every inch of you. There’s not a part of your body where my fingerprints won’t be found. You won’t know what to focus on– when one of my hands is tangled up in your hair, the other one is going to squeeze your ass and really feel it out because I’ve been thinking about it for so long. And all the while, darling, I’ll be kissing you and stealing the breath from your lungs.”

You gasped at that, shifting closer to Jack. He smiled, knowing that he was closing in on the moment that he’d been wanting for the past eight years. His hand moved to the curve of your ass and you’re nearly helpless with it, or just unwilling to chide him for venturing that far. Jack made eye contact with Quinn over your shoulder and smirked, showing his teeth in a cheshire way.

He spoke again. “But then I’d bring my fingers down, won’t I? I’ve made you breathless, I’ve made you moan, I’ve got you begging for more– something you thought you’d never do. Yet here we are, and you’re always dripping for me.” 

By the end of his sentence, Jack’s voice was barely audible. You were straining to hear him, and his mouth was right next to your ear. You felt a bit breathless already, strung together by terrible stitching. Your resolve snapped when you felt his lips close around your earlobe, his teeth tugging at your skin gently.

You jumped away from him like you’d been electrocuted by his touch. You’re breathing heavily, chest heaving. 

Jack fared no better, standing in the same spot. You watch his chest rise and fall, the little bit of his skin you can see between his unbuttoned white shirt glistening. His mouth was slightly open, ready to whisper something else dirty in your ear. 

You looked him up and down like you couldn’t decide where to focus, like you were fulfilling a prophecy where Jack made you fumble where you once stood so sure.

In a second, you made your decision. You needed to see how this would end, needed to feel it for yourself.

You grabbed Jack’s hand and dragged him out of the reception hall, down the winding hallways until you’ve deemed that you’re far enough away from the party that no one would be able to find you if they came looking.

You shoved Jack into a closet– a closet, you thought to yourself, wanting to laugh at the absurdity. When you closed the door behind you and turned to find Jack’s eyes, he was waiting with a stoney face, not letting any of his emotions show. You’d have killed to know what he was thinking.

All you could do was nod, mouth opening and closing a few times, but never finding words. 

Jack tilted his head, his eyes flashing in the darkness.

“Please,” is the single word that ended up breaking the silence between you. 

Jack’s lips were on yours in the blink of an eye. His hands cradled your face and his kiss was insistent, bruising. He was slow, sure, but he was emphatic, unyielding. The kiss reflected the eight years of waiting that had passed before he got this chance. 

His hand pulled one of your legs up onto his hip before it circled around you to knead the skin of your ass. Your dress, already short because Brady and Emma had planned for a wedding in the dead of summer, rode up until your behind was barely covered. 

All the more for Jack to hold onto as his tongue made its way into your mouth.

You continued to kiss, breaking apart only to take a breath and recover, unbuttoning the rest of Jack’s shirt and pushing it down his arms. Your hands roamed his torso, feeling every muscle that Jack had worked so hard to build. 

Jack’s mouth traveled south, sucking along the skin of your neck. He bent down, both of his hands finding your thighs and lifting you. You wrapped your legs around him and ground down against him, finally getting some relieving friction from the sizable bulge that was pressing against his zipper. Jack moaned out loud, gasping at your movements. 

“What next?” You asked, grinding down again.

“What?” Jack replied, lost in the moment. His eyes met yours and they seemed cloudy, swirling with lust.

“After you, shit, after you touch me–” Your head tipped back as he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. “What do you do next, in your dreams?”

It took a minute to register for Jack, too caught up in the feeling of your pussy against his cock, even if there were multiple layers separating you. 

“I touch you,” Jack said, the obvious next action. “I don’t do anything, I just touch you. I use two fingers and I find every spot that makes you react. Once I’ve got you figured out, I–”

You cut him off. “Do it,” You told him. Your head felt light, almost dizzy, and you nodded like a bobblehead. “Do it.”

Jack let out a pathetic, wanton whimper at your command and walked forward until you were pressed against the wall. He shifted you over to that you were held up by his thigh and he brought one hand down to your panties.

He felt over the skimpy fabric, which was barely doing anything anymore. It was soaked, darkened with your slick, and briefly, Jack thought to take it off of you and pocket it to bring home as a souvenir. How dirty you would feel going back out to the reception… the thought of it nearly made Jack’s knees buckle. It would be a constant reminder that he’d won, that he’d managed to fuck you and satisfy you after thinking about it for so long.

He allowed his fingers to wander up and down the expanse of your pussy, cataloging how you whined when he rubbed over your swollen clit and how you clenched down when he pushed at your entrance through the fabric covering it. He noticed how your stomach tensed as he teased his way across your lips, running his finger over each curve and ridge. 

As if inspired by something divine, Jack pulled your panties taut, making them ride up into your cunt and provide some gratifying friction when you next ground down on his hand. Jack watched, eyes wide, as you chased your own pleasure. His hand was the catalyst and you were moving mindlessly, like he had already plucked every thought from your head and replaced it with desire for him.

“Fuck,” Jack choked out, feeling a spark zip up his spine. “Y/N.”

He said your name with such reverence, and flexed his hand against you like an offering. 

“Fuck me,” You said. Your hands found Jack’s hair and you pressed your lips to his. “Jack. I need you to fuck me. I need you inside me, I can’t– oh, need you to make me come. Baby, I’m so close already, I need you.”

Jack’s cock was throbbing like he might burst from the slightest breeze. There it was again– “Baby.” It didn’t mean the same thing now, Jack knew it was more of a term of endearment than an insult, but it lit a fire under him nonetheless. He was going to prove to you that he wasn’t a baby, that he was a man and in this moment, you were his. He was going to fuck you hard, like you’d never imagined he was able to do. He was going to make your legs shake, make it so you couldn’t walk or do anything but sit prettily at your table and sip on another glass of wine to cool you off.

He was going to make it so that the next time he saw you, you’d be begging him to make you come again.

Jack let your feet find the floor again, stepping back just far enough to get his hands on his belt. “Strip,” Jack commanded. “I want to see you.” At the same time, he unbuckled his belt and worked to remove his dress pants. He kicked them away, in a crumpled little pile near his dress shirt. His underwear joined shortly after.

You hurried to remove your dress, eyes locked in on Jack’s cock. It was a burning red at the tip, wet and straining. It stood away from his body, solid and you swore you might’ve just felt some drool pool at the corner of your mouth. 

His hand fisted his cock, eyes lasered in on your protruding nipples when you dropped your dress to reveal your body. 

Jack sighed, stroking himself slowly to keep himself at bay. “You’re better than I dreamed,” He said, causing you to blush.

“Jack,” You whined, aching for him to come closer, to slide inside you.

“Let me.” Jack stepped forward and got to his knees, gently bringing your panties down and helping you out of them. He dropped a kiss on your clit before standing again.

You brought an arm around his neck, your other hand placed solidly on his chest. You could feel his pulse racing wildly beneath your palm and you suddenly remembered that he’d been waiting to do this for years.

“Come on, Jacky,” You voiced. “Prove yourself.”

It was a weak command, a weak insistence, barely any indicator of sureness in your voice now. Jack had turned you inside-out, made you question everything because you never imagined you’d need him the way you do now. 

He practically growled and you could feel it rumble in his chest. He captured your lips with his, nibbling on your bottom lip before filling your mouth with his tongue. It was slippery and wet and it felt like magic.

Jack pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, feeling the head slide in. He stopped there for a minute, breathing deeply into your mouth to ground himself. He couldn’t disappoint you, wouldn’t dare shoot off early and cut short the night that he’d been fantasizing about since he was a teenager.

“So good,” You breathed out, feeding the words to Jack. He dipped his head and inched further into you, moving slowly until your pelvis connected with his. 

“Fuck,” Jack whimpered out. 

His thrusts started shallow. Jack felt like you were constricting him, squeezing him like a snake in a cartoon. His voice was caught in his throat like an ugly lump and the only noises that could force their way past it were groans and “uh”s that borderline on squeaky. He didn’t care about the noises, he didn’t care that he could be embarrassing himself in front of the girl he’s wanted for so long.

It didn’t matter to you, either– you were too caught up in the feeling of Jack’s cock sheathed inside of you. He was pressing against your most intimate spots and you could feel him throbbing inside of you, dragging delectably along your walls.

His thrusts grew deeper, became longer, harder. Jack’s hair fell into his eyes and you brushed it away. His eyes met yours and the air between you felt thick and charged. You brought your hand to Jack’s jaw and leaned forward, connecting your lips.

This kiss was different. It was soft, intimate. Your tongues slid against each other, licking into each others’ mouths and swallowing each others’ groans and whimpers. You forgot for a few minutes that you were in a closet at the wedding of a man you’d known since you were children, fucking a man that you swore you’d never touch because he’s too young.

That man was quickly proving that he’s one of the best fucks in your whole life. 

Here he was, mouthing against your neck after moving away from your lips. He was making these desperate noises, thrusting into you like he’s taking a chance at something he���ll never have again. At the beginning of this night, you might have agreed that he’d never get another chance. Now, you can’t help but look forward to the next time you see him, when you’ll get your mouth on his thick, skillful cock. 

You told him such, and Jack fucked you harder as a result. His hands clutched at your waist, fingertips destined to leave bruises. 

His cock entering and leaving you caused the closet to fill with wet noises and the sound of the slapping of skin. That, paired with Jack’s pants and whines, pushed you further to the edge. Your climax wound up inside you, tense and heavy in your gut.

“Jack,” You said, voice pleading. “I’m close.”

A moan was ripped from Jack’s chest, sweat beading at his hairline. The look in his eyes was almost animalistic, capturing you in his gaze like you’re the only being that exists in the world.

“Please,” Jack panted out. “Come on my cock.”

The winding coil of your climax unravels as Jack continues to thrust his length into you, drawing himself almost completely out of you and then forcing his cock back into your cunt. Your release leaked down his shaft, coating him completely.

The vice grip of your pussy on his cock made Jack hesitate, made him stutter. He still didn’t want to shoot off, he didn’t want to fill you up with his come, because that meant that this would be over. His dream, journey, his conquest would be complete, and he’d have to find something else to lust after. 

He knew in his heart that he was still just Jack, just a younger hockey guy who you’d known when he was pimply and stick-like, one who could never fit into your life the way he wished he could. 

He’d almost rather torture himself, deny himself from his release, than have this end.

But end it must, and it ended with a breathy whisper of his name.

“Jack,” You mewled, twitching in oversensitivity. 

“Oh,” He groaned as his cock jumped inside you, your walls milking him for everything he has. His eyelashes fluttered as you seemed suddenly re-energized, fucking yourself on his cock as he came inside you. It was like his come brought you to life, something too powerful and symbolic for him, and Jack closed his eyes at the thought.

You came down together, eyes finding each other intermittently in the darkness, only when the other wasn’t looking. Your breaths synched, unknowingly, as you dressed yourselves. You were close enough that your elbows could bump as you pulled your clothes on, but both of you were too conscious of the tension to let it happen.

You finished dressing yourself first and you looked over to Jack, feeling something close to awe as he buttoned his shirt and left some skin exposed. You were drawn to it, wanting to reach out and reveal the curve of his shoulder, the dip of his collarbone, the ridge of his waist again and get your mouth on him, but you couldn’t move.

The tension felt like molasses, thick and heavy. Jack’s eyes met yours and you knew that the emotion in his eyes reflected your own: that you knew everything had changed and you didn’t know if it was for the better or for the worse. 

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head. You made your way into his space, tilting your head up to meet his lips in a sweet, short kiss. You pressed something soft into his hands, then turned and left the closet, leaving Jack alone in the dark. 

He didn’t know how you knew, but you had handed him your ruined panties. He slipped them into the pocket of his pants, mentally noting to find his suit jacket and move the panties to the inside pocket of that garment. 

When he saw you again at the reception, almost a half an hour later, you were sipping a new glass of wine. Jack made eye contact with you over the glass and patted his pocket, the small lump of your panties still visible to those who looked closely, and he grinned to himself when he saw you blush.

He’d text you later that night, having bummed your number off of Brady years ago but never used it until now. It was a simple message, teasing and confident, bold like you had come to expect from Jack:

“lmk when u want to see what i can do w my tongue ;)”

note: this might just be my magnum opus. this is my favorite thing that i've written in ages. i had toooo much fun with this. ...will write a part 2 when jack DOES show her what he can do with his tongue... maybe paired with another recent request i got about jack's current injury and what he is or is not able to do with his shoulder.

P.S. I'm not married to the title of this. It was kind of just something I threw out there. They do not crash a wedding. Although their behavior is certainly dramatic & would disrupt the wedding.

[dotthings]

Some spn Cas history (because yay facts!! Facts are fun!!)

Misha was a guest star in S4. Castiel was originally planned to be a 3 episode and done character, but Misha was so electrifying as Cas, had great chemistry with Jensen, and Cas turned out to be such a compelling character, the show kept him around.

Misha was promoted to regular in S5 and continued in S6.

He was dropped from the show for S7 because Gamble and Singer decided to write out Cas. The network did a lot of fans a solid for once, called up the EP's, and went "hahahaha you aren't really planning to get rid of that fan favorite pretty angel are you???? hahaha ok no really bring him back" and literally refused to let spn get rid of him.

There was for sure a listlessness factor in S7 once Cas was removed. J2 were the anchors in the early seasons. In later seasons, J2M really became the show's center supports, more than just J2. (No, this is not arguable. This is reflected in canon story, and Cas's growth as a character and plot role and emotional role and in promotion for many years. No, I don't care who is offended that I said it. It's not a point of argument).

Jeremy Carver took over as showrunner in S8 and brought Misha in for an 8 episode arc, so Misha was a guest star in S8. Carver wanted to rebuild the character and in S9 Misha was promoted back up to series regular, and he stayed at that status the rest of the series.

Originally, Misha's regular status was denoted by having him third in opening credits after Jared and Jensen, before the "guest starring" section. Eventually Misha was given an "and" credit.

The "and" credit is a contract status thing. It's for series regulars of particular note, usually for a particularly noteworthy performance. Tony Head was "and" status on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. When he stepped back to recurring, Alyson Hannigan became the "and" status.

Some have tried to paint Misha's "and" designator as a sign of his lesser importance, but it's the opposite. It's a promotion and a sign of respect.

A further note, zero fans have attempted to supplant Jared and Jensen as the "top leads" of the show, but it's abundantly fair to label Misha a 3rd lead, given the proportion of Cas's plot and emotion impact on story and Misha's longevity and status. It's semantics, really. If someone gets offended if you say he's a 3rd lead, they're aren't worth your time. Eh, okay, "main character" isn't wrong either, but I'm suspicious of people who break out in hives over calling him "3rd lead"--but main character is a descriptor for Cas's role. SPN at times had 3-4 series regulars, with J2 as the only two constants the entire run of the show, which is why we say J2 are the 2 top leads. But Cas and Misha's importance are also facts.

Misha was "guest star" in S4, 7, and 8. Eventually he got "special guest star" credit during his guest starring era on spn, another indicator of an actor/performance/character of note, but not a series regular. He was a series regular for S5, 6, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15. (No this is not arguable. These are production facts. Some people still, after all this time, try to erase his regular/main character status on spn, and they aren't working in facts).

[shall-we-die]

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{Mistake}

What is the worst mistake they ever made with you?

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↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Obey me!}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {Angst}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰ ────┈┈{0062}┈─╮

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╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

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↬|Lucifer|

Maybe the worst thing he'd ever done to MC is pushing them away... Trying to act as though the connection they shared was just a foolish dream, while also trying to fight the feelings he'd formed... he'd never been as affected by anyone like he is with MC - it hurts even more because he knows how much it hurt their heart to be pushed away like that...

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↬|Mammon|

The worst mistake Mammon ever made towards MC was to prioritize his own selfish desires and greed over their well-being and happiness. Despite MC's unwavering loyalty and affection towards Mammon, the Avatar of Greed failed to reciprocate their feelings and instead betrayed them multiple times, leaving them feeling hurt and abandoned. Mammon's constant pursuit of wealth and power blinded him to the pain and suffering he caused MC, and he deeply regrets his actions as he realizes too late the true depth of his mistreatment towards the person who loved and respected him despite his flaws.

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↬|Leviathan|

The worst mistake Leviathan ever made when it comes to the MC... Well, that would definitely have to be accidentally using his magical powers to scare them away... but he only did it because he didn't know how to deal with his own feelings. That's right, he accidentally cast some spells on them! He got so jealous of anyone around them that he just... well, he screwed up really badly.

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↬|Satan|

As the Avatar of Wrath, he's prone to outbursts of anger and impulsiveness, which can sometimes lead to regrettable actions. One such instance was when his anger got the better of him, and he hurt MC in the process. It was a moment of weakness that he deeply regrets, and he had vowed to never repeat such a mistake again. He's determined to control his emotions and learn from his mistakes to ensure that he never hurts those closest to him again.

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↬|Asmodeus|

Asmodeus.. made plenty of.. interesting mistakes, some worse than others. One such mistake was.. that at one point he got jealous because you would pay more attention to someone from RAD over him (He was going to ask you out on a date that day) so.. his way of lashing out was.. being extra clingy and making rude remarks about the person you were talking to. He would realize a little later how foolish he was and try to make it up and apologize for the rude comments and the clinginess...

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↬|Beelzebub|

One of the worst mistakes Beel has made involves the accidental injuring of the MC during a moment of intense gluttony. Despite not intending to harm the MC, Beel's carelessness in satisfying his own hunger led to the MC's pain, leaving him feeling extremely guilty and regretful. As a result of this mistake, Beel struggles with feelings of self-blame and guilt, even distancing himself from the MC in order to avoid further injuring them in the future. This only adds to Beel's struggle with his own inner demons and his fear of losing control due to his excessive desire.

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↬|Belphegor|

(Hahaha... do I really need to talk about lesson 16?) Let's just say that it was a mistake to ignore them for a while and then to treat them rudely when MC came to look for him. I mean, who knew that MC is be able to resist his cold attitude and actually stand up to him?

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↬|Diavolo|

When he injures MC accidentally. This would cause him a lot of regret, guilt, and shame for the rest of his life, as he would have caused harm to the person he cares about the most.

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↬|Barbatos|

If Barbatos ever made a mistake that caused any harm to MC, he would feel deeply regretful and would immediately take steps to address the issue and make amends. He would likely reject/deny the mistake at first, due to his pride and because he holds himself to high standards. But as he observes MC's reaction and the consequences of his actions, he would eventually acknowledge the mistake and take full responsibility for the harm he caused. He would then work to make things right and ensure that he never repeats the same mistake in the future.

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↬|Simeon|

One major mistake he made towards the MC is unintentionally causing them emotional distress and hurt. Despite his good intentions and sincere efforts to help, he may have said or done something unintentionally hurtful, causing the MC to be upset and feel betrayed. He may have deeply regretted and rejected his actions, leading to feelings of immense guilt and shame, as he realizes the impact of his actions and the pain he caused the MC. This mistake could become a significant turning point in their relationship, as he strives to make amends and repair the trust that may have been broken.

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↬|Solomon|

Forcing MC to eat his food. Yep, it's the worst one...

||[🄼istake]||

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     ⇆ㅤㅤ◁🄻ㅤㅤ❚❚ㅤㅤ🄽▷ㅤㅤ↻

[catsoupki]

當你不在 / when you’re not there (satoru gojo x reader) PT. 1

Summary: Satoru Gojo is slowly being backed into a corner by his father to pick a bride if he wants to inherit the throne, as his royal guard, you just want to protect him.

Warnings: prince gojo x royal guard reader ! soft FLUFF!!! for now anyway, since this is only the build-up for this 3-part (?) miniseries, i’m planning the angst and the smut 😛 stay tuned hahaha

wc: 850

Today is cold, the winds of autumn come knocking at the walls of Oculos, you’re kept warm, however, by the layers that shield your skin from the nipping chill— a tunic in sapphire blue covers your torso, a grey cuirass of dragon skin keeps your posture upright, and a bearskin cap tames your hair kempt. Perhaps an onlooker would’ve found the series of leather that strap around your shoulders and waist to be constricting, but your movement has grown within these boundaries— you were born for this duty.

Every day begins with leading a drill for your brigade. Whilst you stand under the wilting willow tree, you’ll pretend to not hear the soft hums coming from the prince’s chambers as you allow the wind to mess up your neckband.

Roughly an hour later, Your Majesty will finally decide that he shall leave his bedroom to come greet you by the dried leaves.

By then, you will have rounded up your men in two single-file lines to salute the prince. He never spares them an eye, maybe not even a breath. But it’s routine that he comes over to you, blue eyes one entire head above yours, looking down at you with a glint that is softly familiar, and he’ll fix your collar everyday without fail.

Afterwards, he shall go enjoy his breakfast in the hall, while you continue training your soldiers on wielding the katana with sparring and beatings. Breakfast, for you, always starts on an empty and aching stomach.

Today was meant to be no different, your steps periodic as you head towards the first meal of the day, but General Getou stops you in your tracks, “Commander y/n, report for duty in the grand hall. Satoru is looking for you again.” He sighs, “I’ll save some breakfast for you.”

“Thanks.” You say, the wind carrying your voice to him while you begin trekking in another direction.

When you enter the room, it seems that a ball has been going for some time already, despite it being only just the afternoon. Goblets of alcohol litter the tables, and a variety of fruits cover every surface. You return to your post— behind Satoru, on his right. He notices you right away, sneaking past the noisy wooden doors that you never liked, he’ll apologise later for making you skip breakfast, but he can’t be bothered to look at all these women parading themselves in front of him.

“Y/n, do I look fine today?” Satoru teases, cutting off a princess from the neighbouring country, simultaneously ignoring the glare that his father sends him from atop the throne.

“You look just as well as you had yesterday, Your Majesty.”

Out of the entire royal family, the only people who never held a distaste for you were Satoru and his mother, and now that she’s dead, you dare not speak in the presence of Satoru’s father, but you are the captain of the royal guard.

“Son, don’t you think the lady in red is just dashing? I think she’s much worthy of your attention, she’s of noble blood, at least.”

You remain stone-faced at your post, because the duty that you have learned to love comes with the acceptance of people’s spit: you are no more than the dirt on the sole of his shoes.

“Hmm, I think not, thanks father, and thanks ladies, but it seems that I have other more interesting matters to tend to. Have a safe trip home!”

Satoru is used to sending kings and the like home with red, glowing faces. He doesn’t care, he just drags you with him as he takes his exit. And you? You just follow him like a sunflower to the sun.

“You think I could just act super rude obliviously to drive them away?” Satoru asks, white hair blowing in the sea-salted wind.

He looks at you, but you look at Suguru, as you’re still shovelling the cold bites of food into your mouth.

“Their fathers are definitely willing to overlook that as long as they get to have your powers. Satoru, you seem to forget the reason why they’re even here to court you in the first place.”

Loneliness is a cold, unforgiving feeling. It’s not the same as breathing in winter air that makes your throat itch, loneliness doesn’t make rounds like the seasons do, it stays, stubbornly and mulishly rooted at the base of every step that he takes, it’s—

“It’s been three years, won’t my father just give up? Three years, no kingdom ever woos me for real, anyway.”

“What if you just marry someone and divorce them after you get the throne?” You ask, eyes bugged as you finish the last of your meal.

“I don’t want to consummate with a woman I have not a single tittle of feelings for.” You and Suguru meet eyes as Satoru continues to deliver his tirade to the calm ocean. You two will never be able to understand his life, a life of one million suns.

“I’ll figure it out.”

—it’s when you’re not there.

tag list: @hatsukeii @staraxiaa

[seaofwine]

What do you like about the Odyssey? Besides some entertaining episodes (e.g. Circe or Calypso), I've never really been able to get into the Odyssey as a whole (I find the first 5 books especially dull). The Iliad really speaks to me more.

It's hard to really pinpoint what I like most about it but I love to talk about the Odyssey so I hope you like long posts hahaha

The first five books act as the exposition. When the Iliad ends, there's a general understanding that most of the surviving characters made it home. Menelaus and Helen have reunited, the catalyst for the Trojan War has been resolved. Agamemnon traversed the sea and made it back, and although he was killed by his wife Clytemnestra, there is no question about where he is; unlike Odysseus.

Telemachus has spent his entire youth without a father. When he finally decides to set out from Ithaca to find any leads on where Odysseus is, he is confronted with the fact that most everyone else has been accounted for. He sees Menelaus and Helen, the order of their kingdom, the comfort they have in each other and the bonds they have restored. Telemachus has known nothing but uncertainty, while his mother is forced to weave lies and deceptions to keep the suitors that plague their home at bay. The first five books really show how important one man can be when he is utterly lost, and what it would mean for everyone who loves him should he be found. These books also show the close interest that Athena, as patron of Odysseus, takes in his family. She steps into the chaos of Ithaca and gives Telemachus the inspiration to embark on his own journey, chasing the ghost of his still-living father.

When we finally reach Odysseus, he is not the same man that those who knew him in Troy described. They are the closest Telemachus can come to knowing what came of his father, but even they are separated by nearly a decade and the breadth of the sea. Penelope hasn't laid eyes on her husband in twenty years, there is no overestimating what that can do to a person's memory. Odysseus's first action is to cry. When finally Calypso is forced to allow Odysseus to leave, by order of Hermes, he makes his own raft and leaves at the first possible moment. He is fighting against the will of Poseidon, against the wrath he incurred, all alone. He has lost every single one of his men, every single person who could ever vouch for his identity, in a world where no one could recognize him, is gone. Despite this, he is still fighting to get back to Ithaca.

Odysseus is so utterly human in the text. When he is hosted by Alcinous, Odysseus asks the singer there to recount the story of the Trojan Horse. It's like landing at the doorstep of a stranger who graciously allows you to stay and immediately asking his DJ to play *your own* greatest hits - which in turn only upsets him. This also sets up the dramatic reveal of his identity (I like to imagine him looking around like, you guys remember this one? Yeah that's Me, I pinkie promise. Please give me 4000 drachmae and your best oarsmen (: ).

He recounts the story of how he got so utterly lost on the way back and one thing the Odyssey will tell you, to your face over and over again, is that Odysseus is a big time liar. But for some reason, his tale is so compelling it's hard to remind yourself of that when hearing it for the first time. Some points are so beyond baffling (like striking Polyphemus in the singular eye the poor sod has, and then once to the safety of his boat (which is on open water, the domain of said cyclops's father) loudly announcing his full gods-given name and mailing address, just in case anyone missed who it was) that it's like, yeah that was probably exactly what he did. This is the section of the story where we see Odysseus as he sees himself. This is his own reflection of the actions he made and the troubles that befell him because of it.

Odysseus is such a complex character that one of the epithets he is given is "polytropos", the many-faced or many-sided. Odysseus and his relationship to his own identity, which he can shed and don at any point that's convenient for him, is one of the main reasons I am obsessed with his story. This, and the exploration in an ancient text about what a close relationship with a deity, is something I am constantly thinking about.

[lovebugism]

“ Sneak out and come watch the stars with me. ” this gives me such Steve vibes. maybe something cute and romantic? I’m in my feels hahaha

thanks for your request, angel! please enjoy xoxo — steve takes his bad-at-feelings gf on a romantic outing. it goes exactly how he expected. (mean-ish!reader, fluff, 1.8k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The forest behind the suburbs of Maple Street is sparse and full of green. Illuminated by a blue moon and blinking yellow fireflies, Steve holds your hand and leads you through thin trees and tall grass. 

You follow behind him and try hopelessly to keep up with his longer strides. A cat-like grin pulls at your mouth as you joke, “You know, when you said you wanted to sneak out and watch the stars, I thought that was a euphemism for something.”

Steve looks over his shoulder at you. His honey eyes squint as he flashes you a lopsided smile. “Is that really how low you think of me, sweetheart?”

“I just forget how much of a romantic you are sometimes.”

Your sneakers scuff against the dirt when Steve stops suddenly in front of you. He takes a step closer, smoothing his broad hands up your bare arms. His sparkling touch leaves prickling goosebumps on your skin. He stops at the sleeves of your t-shirt, long fingers warm where they sprawl below your shoulders.

“That’s exactly why I have to remind you then, huh?” he singsongs, bending softly at the waist to kiss you. 

You’re too busy rolling your eyes at his cheesy remark to meet him halfway. His plush lips brush the very corner of your mouth.

A couple more steps, and the woods break off into a clearing. A black lake sits in the middle of it all, sparkling under neon moonlight. The other side is lined with thicker trees in a more velvet shade of green. It’s lush, filled with the buzzing sounds of nightlife, and smelling heavily of summertime.

It’s the kind of beauty that takes your breath away. Sort of like the pretty boy beside you.

Steve catches you staring, and you cower. You purse your quiet smile to the side of your mouth when he flashes you a similar grin. Your eyes narrow accusingly, “How did you know this was back here?”

The boy’s beam ebbs instantaneously, mourning the fleeting moment of pure adoration. His fingers wrap gently around your wrist, tugging you closer to the clearing. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just sit, yeah?”

Before you can complain about your good jeans getting dirty, he strips himself of his summer jacket and spreads it on the grassy bank below you. He shoots you a knowing look in the meanwhile — full of twinkling eyes and quirked lips — as though anticipating your protest. You meet it with a halfhearted glower.

“How many times did you come out here with Nancy Wheeler, then, huh?” you tease as you descend onto the polyester fabric.

Steve huffs when he plops down beside you. “You’re an absolute glutton for punishment, you know that?”

“I just like making fun of you—”

“Of course you do.”

“—And also, I think it’s really funny you took me to a spot you used to take your ex,” you conclude with a giggle sputtering from your mouth. Your laugh is high and airy, like it’s actually funny to you and not a confession of misplaced jealousy. 

It’s the only reason Steve smiles softly back at you. “Shut up,” he grouses quietly despite his grin. “I just wanted to get out of that house, alright? It was getting way too loud in there.”

The Wheeler’s were having a weekend get-together. There was no real occasion for it other than the want to decorate their big house and bigger backyard for the summer season. You figured that was the sort of thing rich people did whenever they got bored.

The afternoon was pretty tolerable, but the kids only seemed to get more wired as the night progressed. You could only tolerate the yelling in Mike Wheeler’s basement for so long.

“We can’t stay gone for too long,” you tell him as you settle into his side.

Steve wraps an arm around your shoulder to press you further into him. The side of your arm rests against his ribs. His cologne embraces you the same way he does, engulfing you with its clean musky scent.

The boy laughs. “Why? ‘Cause everyone will think we’re screwing?”

“No,” you drawl with your own breathy giggle. “Because I promised Holly we’d do your makeup before bedtime.”

A beat passes. You tilt your chin to stare up at the boy beside you. You met his deadpanned expression with a mischievous grin. 

“No, you didn’t,” he challenges with narrowed honey eyes.

“I absolutely did— right after I promised we’d play Princess and Dragons with her, actually.”

Steve’s brows pinch. “Since when do dragons wear makeup?”

“…You’re the princess, Stevie.”

“Right,” he concedes, licking his lips and trying his best to feign annoyance. He’s too full of adoration for you not to smile, though. His pink lips quirk in a crooked smirk as he shakes his head at you. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that?”

“Oh,” you hum. “You love me, huh?”

That phrase was a new one. Well, between the two of you, anyway. 

You’d said it first — blurted it, really — at breakfast a few mornings ago. Steve griped that you beat him to the punch, right before he said it back to you. He said he’d wanted to say it for a while but could never find the courage to. You haven’t quite let him live it down.

“Unfortunately,” he grumbles.

“Well, that just sucks for you.”

“Does it now?”

“Mhmm,” you answer wordlessly as you lean in closer to him, your mouths mere inches apart. You can smell Coca-Cola and chocolate ice cream on his breath when it entwines with your own.

“And why’s that?”

You grin when your noses brush together. “‘Cause I love you back.”

“God,” he grimaces quietly. “That’s disgusting.”

You nod. The tip of your nose brushes the structured bridge of his. “Absolutely repulsive.”

Your lips lock hardly a second later. His plush pink ones press against your own in a lingering peck. 

You didn’t know how much you missed the feel of him until now. You hadn’t felt so starved for him all day, but now that you finally have him against your mouth, you feel like he’s bringing your withering figure back to life.

You sigh against him. You feel the smile on his mouth at the feeling of the heavy breath fanning over his cupid’s bow. Steve pulls back, then kisses you deeper. His plush lips part to open yours. His tongue slips between them, warm and wet. The irregular pattern of the pink muscle juts against your own. 

You vaguely feel his hand curl around the back of your neck before you feel the dewy grass pressing against your back. 

A soft gasp is inhaled through your nose when the boy unexpectedly lays you back. Your eyes flutter open while your lips continue to be so ardently kissed. You squirm at the feeling of your shirt dampening and wonder if the icky feeling is worth being so close to him.

Before you can answer, you gasp again. This time through your mouth.

Steve pulls back, frightened that he’s hurt you. His wide chocolate eyes dart over your face, checking for any sign that something might be wrong. “What? What happened?”

“It’s Hercules!” you answer.

His brows furrow. “It’s what?”

“Hercules! The constellation! You can only see it in the summertime—” you explain, pushing your hands against the boy’s shoulders. “—Get off!”

Steve huffs and rolls onto his back, propping himself on his elbows. You rise once more with your chin pointed towards the black sky. You spare him a brief glance. A smile pulls softly at the corners of your mouth when you see the boyish pout on his face.

“You’re the one that wanted to watch the stars, remember?” you remind him.

“I wanted to watch you under the stars,” he corrects in a monotone. “That’s totally different.”

“Just c’mere and look.”

He sighs but abides you anyway. When he sits up beside you again, you reach over his lap for his left hand. You rest your pointer finger next to his and trace the blinking constellation along the velvet blue sky. “These are the legs, see?”

Steve squints. “Sorta…”

“It’s kinda like he’s running, right? And those are the arms.”

A beat passes. The boy’s puzzled gaze flits between you and the night sky. “…Is that it?”

You squint at him. “What do you mean, is that it?”

“He has no head,” he explains as if you haven’t noticed.

“…Okay?”

“How can it be Hercules if he doesn’t have a head?” the boy scoffs like it’s some unsolved travesty.

“Because it’s a constellation, Steve,” you giggle.

“Well, it looks a lot more like a crab than a Hercules, babe.”

“There’s already a crab constellation. It’s Cancer.”

Steve shrugs, pink lips jutted softly out. “Well, they got it all backwards.”

“I’ll let Ptolemy know,” you quip with the loving roll of your eyes.

“Who?”

“Ptolemy. The astronomer,” you answer in a monotone. You’re met with a pretty face contorted in confusion. “Did you not learn anything in science class?”

Steve thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nope.”

You laugh at the honesty of his answer. “We literally had Ms. Cook’s together. Twice. Astronomy One and Two.”

“I only took those classes ‘cause I knew you’d be in them,” the boy scoffs.

“Shut up…”

“I’m serious— well, Astro One, I just got lucky. But then, senior year, I dropped chemistry for Astro Two so I could spend my last semester with you.”

Your heart swells at his words, warmed by the thought that he’s been whipped for you just as long as you’ve been for him. 

You’ve never felt truly worthy of his love. Not now. Not ever. 

Girls like you aren’t supposed to end up with guys like Steve. 

Of everyone he could’ve chosen, he chose you — the girl who finds affection close to impossible basically all the time. The girl who throws out mindless insults easier than I love you’s. But he loved you, anyway. 

Of everyone else — it was you.

“Is that why you spent five months sitting behind me and annoying the absolute shit outta me?” you joke instead of telling him you love him so much you could cry.

“I prefer the phrase wooing the shit outta you,” Steve corrects with his head tilted to his shoulder. “But, sure. Yeah.”

You shake your head with a fond smile hinting at your lips. “You’re disgusting…”

“Well, it worked,” he counters, a proud grin on his face. “Here we are, two years later, watching the stars while you lecture me about Pa-moley or whoever the fuck.”

“Ptolemy,” you correct, smiling just as wide as he is.

“Right,” he hums back. His chocolate eyes sparkle when he looks at you, twinkling with stars and adoration. “I can’t imagine being out here and getting smart-mouthed by anyone else.”

Through burning cheeks, you quip “That’s because no one else can do it as well as I can.”

Steve beams. “Exactly.”

[siremasterlawrence]

Paying My Dues

Hey guys last new story for a week or two I need to take a break after some strange three half weeks. Nearly had two incidents with cars, had family medical health issues and I need to focus on me. See you guys in two weeks.

The moon is full circle during super high tide all over the house as midnight appears it is shining on full display looking quiet bold and white dancing across the sky as I welcome my many guests on honor.Ten actors who are either clearly in of help from someone who is willing to go their even if they don’t appreciate them at all because well I am Master Lawrence and I am fucking super awesome no matter what you think. I am standing in front of my mansion as they all walking through the door as I slide them both to the side fully opening the door for him as I smirk and watch as Chris Evans is exiting the car happily. I spot him from a faras I smirk waving him forward in to the void of my home he soon notices the place is at odd totally empty and he panics as he can’t escape all that’s left is a letter written in ink for him to read.

Tom Hardy walks in to the home with a hot and heavy world of some sort of issues for me to play with as my appetite only grows the more I play and I lead him in to similar room as Chris. His issues grows intensely as he takes another step he is stuck in the center of the room as his life flashes by him and all he can do is fear what’s next no way he can fight it. No matter what he does, he says or thinks, and feels he stuck here with a strange letter on the table as he picks it up for a chance of a lifetime and he opens it to a shock. He grabs the knife cutting the top of it open as he yanks the letter from the envelope, inside on the piece of paper he isstun to see the words you will get freedom from all that plagues you if your give me your talent and career.

“Alan…Alan” a ethereal voice calls to him as he is recording a new video on his waked YouTube channel.

“Why are you so conflicted?”

“Who are you? Is that portal?”

“Never mind that, you have lost your way and you need help.”

“I can see when someone does not appreciate what they have.”

“I do and you are a crock shit “

“Why are you so scared then?”

“I am not scared of anyone “

“So come to the mirror”

“Fuck! Fine”

“Hey wait! Release me “

“Read this “

“What the…”

“I give you permission to take the life I have and all that comes with it “

“Hell no! I did not authorize that “

“Hahaha “

“What’s is funny?”

“You just did dummy “

“Where are am I?”

“Hey Liam!”

“How did you get here?”

“All good buddy “

“We agreed to me”

“Since when?”

“It’s not important “

“You think so?”

“I know so”

“Who are you?”

“I am you now, we agree to switch”

“Impossible “

“Look in the mirror”

“I am your life”

“No? Get out of my body”

“This fine specimen is my body “

“You will learn to love this new world like your allies “

“Bastard! I will…I will…what was I saying?“

Chris Pratt use to appeal to me as the super kind affable guy I could hang with until this bullshit with his kids and his wives because he is wolf in sheep’s clothing because he is a dick. It’s the perfect night to stay at home with his wife and kids unfortunately for him my future pet he is a total dip shit that is totally unaware that his family disappeared until 8 pm. He sighs getting up from his seat as he roams out of the living room in to the ever winding hall to his mansion but he soon is distracted with a bright light in his master bedroom as he races upstairs. What finally hits him he is alone a he stares in to a empty room from the hall and he creeps in like the little shit notices the mirror is glowing in a wake blue color he sneaks closer and a hand yanks him in.

Stephen Amell should learn to stay at home instead of wondering our of his front door in such a state early in the morning, nah just joking I woke him up with a phone call early in the morning. He screamed at me as if I care I mean really nobody is going to think twice that man loves to make scenes like when he went off in his wife in a drinking stupor on the airplane such a embarrassing man.

“Why do I feel like the house is stifling me tonight?”

“That strange call left me feeling hot”

“Seeing my wife irritated “

“She will kill me if she wakes up”

“Ah fuck it”

“Such a bitch “

“I need man time for myself “

“By my”

“Out in the…the…woods…who the fuck are you?”

“I am the guy …”

“On the phone ?”

“God! You are tense “

“You are major trouble”

“Shit! Should I be scared”

“Not! Zip it “

“I am charge now “

“I will be disappointed”

“So time for a lesson”

Tom and Colton are in a major independent project shooting in England somewhere in the background of the set the camera is all a go ready to roll and they talk unsuspecting the danger looming ahead.

“Where is everybody?”

“Anybody?”

“Say cheese “

“Fuck! I can’t see”

“Am I blind?”

“Your eyes will return momentarily “

“Bastard “

“Pussies! Do a me favor?”

“Never “

“How collaborative?”

“Not working “

“Kneel NOW!”

“You can’t…”

“Tell me”

“No way!”

“Kneel “

“Much better “

“Good bois “

Ben and Chris this is a party like no other

as they enter into a misty plane through the door into a whole new world, the doors been closed their lives are vanishing into avoid of dreams, self-destruction, self obsession and happiness into complete submission.

“Congratulations! You made one hell of a Faustian deal!”

“All of you in here will escape the lives you are dreading.”

“What do you get in return?”

“Your talent, your life and your everything “

“No takesy backseys”

The end

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Silver - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Silver Version ～Let's Make Beef Stew 1～

Silver: Beef stew… A dish needing to be boiled in a pot, of all things. I'm hoping I don't mess this up.

Ghost Chef: "Of all things"? Is there something worrying you?

Silver: Well…I actually have a bad habit where I find myself abruptly falling asleep.

Silver: Waiting for food to cook is no exception… I've fallen asleep while cooking before, leading to many failed dishes.

Ghost Chef: I had briefly glanced at what you wrote in your reasons for taking this class, but I see you were telling the truth about falling asleep easily.

Riddle: It's rather dangerous to fall asleep while cooking. Has it ever resulted in a fire?

Silver: In Briar Valley, we generally prepare our food using magic. This means that even our flames for cooking are produced via our own magical abilities.

Silver: If I were to fall asleep, my magic would also be cut off and the fire would disappear, so even I haven't had to deal with a fire hazard as such.

Ghost Chef: Hahaha. So it was like you had a built-in automatic shut-off function.

Silver: As it was, back when I couldn't use magic, my father would light the flames for me.

Silver: This meant that even when I dozed off, my father would tend to the fire and he'd adjust… I mean, finish up the dish.

Silver: However, as a child I hadn't realized just how much my father had been trying to keep me from danger.

Silver: That's why I had believed that there would be no issues if I attempted to cook by myself…

Silver: One time, while my father was away, I attempted to cook over a wood fire.

Silver: The morning had been particularly cold that day… So I thought I would make a pot-au-feu for my father.

Silver: I was able to chop the ingredients, throw them in a pot, and season everything with no issues…

Silver: But perhaps that is where I let down my guard. I dozed off while the pot was still on the flame.

Riddle: Ah, but that was quite dangerous! It wasn't fire borne from magic, yes?

Riddle: What happened next?

Silver: I somehow woke up before any fire hazard took place. However, by that point, all the water had boiled away…

Silver: So, I added water to the pot in haste, which only served to turn the whole soup black as the charred bits dissolved into the liquid.

Silver: The dish was a failure. The whole house smelled like char. Just as I was at my wit's end, my father returned home.

Riddle: …Did he scold you?

Silver: Not at all. He just laughed, relieved that I hadn't hurt myself.

Silver: He also said that failure was a stepping stone to improvement for next time.

Silver: Furthermore, he scooped up a bowl of that black and burnt pot-au-feu and ate it without any hesitation.

Silver: My father said that it had a distinctive flavor even as it was, but… There was no way it was anywhere near edible.

Riddle: …He seems to be a very kind father.

Silver: He is, I'm glad to have him.

Riddle: Did you ever have the opportunity to learn how to cook from him?

Silver: He is an adept swordsman and mage, but… When it comes to cooking, both the ingredients he would use and the way he would cook constantly changed on a whim.

Silver: And he could never season anything the same way twice… In short, I never found my father's cooking style to be worth referencing.

Silver: That is why I consider myself self-taught. That being said, I always considered a dish good enough if it was edible.

Silver: All I can really do is chop up meat and vegetables and toss them in salt and pepper, or sometimes take leftovers to make risotto.

Riddle: It is fine enough that you are self-taught. I myself have never prepared anything by my lonesome.

Ghost Chef: Okay now, you two! Get to work, don't just chatter away!

Silver: Ah, right, my apologies… I should chop up the vegetables first.

Silver: I'll peel the carrots.

[peels carrots]

Ghost Chef: Oho～ You've got skills.

Silver: Blades are somewhat of a specialty of mine.

Silver: Next are the onions.

[peels onions]

Riddle: Silver, I am in need of an onion as well. Will you teach me how to peel them?

Ghost Chef/Silver: …?

Riddle: Wh-Why are both of you staring at me strangely!? Was my question that bizarre…?

Silver: It can be peeled by hand.

Riddle: I was not asking for the method of peeling, exactly… Rather, I can't seem to grasp where the peel ends specifically.

Silver: Oh, that's what you meant. The peel is the thin, brown layer on top. The white part is what's edible.

Ghost Chef: If there are any areas that seem to be discolored brown, you can just cut it out.

Riddle: I should cut out the discolored spots…? It's a little disconcerting to create random divots like that.

Ghost Chef: Hmm, Riddle-kun, you're very thorough!

Silver: Don't worry too much. At worst, even if some of the peel were to remain, it would just stick to the inside of your mouth. It is still edible.

Ghost Chef: And on the other hand, Silver-kun, you're much too loose-minded!

Silver: Alright, I've finished chopping up the vegetables and meat. Now, we melt butter in a hot pan…

Silver: And brown the meat.

[sizzle]

Silver: It's almost time to add the vegetables. …Ordinarily, I would just salt and pepper it here and consider it done.

Ghost Chef: That would be a fine dish if it were with a regular sirloin steak. However, shank and tendon taste much better stewed～

Silver: So different cuts of meat are cooked differently, I see. I'd never really thought about that before.

Silver: …Chef, the onions are starting to become translucent, are they sauteed enough?

Ghost Chef: Oh yes, it looks good! Now add water and bring it to a boil.

Silver: It seems we've finally come to the dreaded moment of boiling the stew. I worry I may nod off…

Ghost Chef: Hehehe… Have I got just the thing for you to keep your mind off your worries.

Silver: What is it?

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Silver Version ～Let's Make Beef Stew 2～

Ghost Chef: Let me introduce you to this… Ta-da! An electric pressure cooker!

Silver: An electric pressure cooker…?

Silver: I think I get it. If I use a pressure cooker, that would decrease the amount of time the stew needs to boil.

Silver: Plus, since it's electric, there's a timer function. Even if I were to fall asleep, the ingredients shouldn't char.

Ghost Chef: Yeah… That's basically it. You got it in one before I could even explain it.

Silver: This will be my first time using an electronic appliance to cook.

Riddle: Huh, your first time!? I have limited experience with cooking, and even I have used an electronic appliance like a microwave.

Silver: Of course I know of their existence, at the very least…

Silver: But I hadn't had the chance to use one since I enrolled here because I would just dine in the cafeteria.

Silver: In Briar Valley, most of the homes don't have electricity, let alone appliances like microwaves.

Riddle: Truly, it is a prerequisite to be able to use magic there, I see… It's a life I could not even begin to fathom.

Riddle: Although, I do believe that my magic would improve greatly if I were to live there.

Silver: With your magical prowess and competence, I'm sure you would have no issues living there.

Ghost Chef: Alright, Silver-kun. Throw all the ingredients into the electric pressure cooker.

Ghost Chef: Select the button on the menu panel that says "Beef Stew" and then press start!

[click]

Silver: It says… 20 minutes remaining.

Ghost Chef: Now you're all set. We just need to wait for it to cook.

Silver: Do we not have to keep watch over the pot? Will it need to be stirred midway through?

Ghost Chef: Don't worry, it'll come out fine. In fact, it'll be more prone to failure if we keep poking at it.

Ghost Chef: Leave the pressure cooker be for now, and instead, let's start on the demi-glace sauce!

Silver: It didn't take as long as I expected to make the sauce. I guess I should wash the dirtied pot and knife.

Silver: …I need to… wash the pot…

Ghost Chef: Oh! Hey, hey, Silver-kun!

Silver: Ah! That was close, I almost fell asleep. I can't let my guard down for even a moment.

Silver: I have no earthly idea why.

Ghost Chef: Well, since you stole my thunder a bit earlier, let me try to show you how the electric pressure cooker can be used.

Silver: Yes, please.

Ghost Chef: A handy pressure cooker is capable of crating any number of dishes, but it doesn't mean you have to follow a recipe to the letter.

Ghost Chef: If you swap out ingredients or seasonings, you can make a dish that is more aligned with your personal tastes.

Ghost Chef: For example, you know the ingredients we're using for today's stew?

Ghost Chef: If you chose to substitute tomato juice for the demi-glace sauce, you could make a tomato stew instead.

Silver: …My father loves tomato juice.

Silver: If I substituted tomato juice for the sauce… Maybe my father would gladly eat it up.

～～♪

Silver: What's that noise…? Oh, it's done cooking.

Ghost Chef: Go ahead and open up the lid to the pressure cooker. Take care not to burn yourself when you do.

Silver: Yes, sir.

[opens pot]

Silver: Wow…

Silver: Both the vegetables and meat are cooked to perfection. I would have never guessed that they'd get this tender in only 20 minutes.

Ghost Chef: Yes, yes, and now it's time for the finishing touches.

Silver: Now we add the demi-glace and a tad bit of ketchup to taste. That should be about good.

Silver: Mm, delicious!

Silver: Next, plate it and add boiled broccoli for garnish.

Silver: …Good, it's finished.

Ghost Chef: Not bad! Take the plate and head on out to the judging venue.

Silver: Right. No matter how difficult the judge may be, I'll definitely emerge the victor…!

Ghost Chef: Wait, hold on, you're not going into battle.

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

???: Ah, so you're my chef today, Silver.

Silver: Jamil. I've heard from Kalim that you're very proficient at cooking.

Silver: Within the school body, you're probably the most competent at cooking… Urk, am I even a viable opponent for someone like you?

Jamil: What kind of fight are you even trying to gear up for right now? Well, whatever. I'll dig in now.

[chomp]

Jamil: Hmm… It tastes okay.

Silver: Just okay, hm…

Jamil: However…

Jamil: I'll give you that the ingredients are cooked through pretty well. The meat is so tender it falls apart in my mouth almost instantly.

Jamil: This must have taken you some time, didn’t it? I would have thought you'd be in danger of falling asleep midway through…

Silver: Yeah, I was also worried about that. In fact, while I was waiting for it to stew, I could feel myself getting drowsy.

Silver: The reason this dish was a success was all thanks to the Chef allowing me to use a pressure cooker.

Silver: Since it only stewed for a short while, I was able to push through without drowsing off.

Jamil: That's surprising. I thought the Master Chef program was designed with a focus on improving your cooking abilities…

Jamil: But it seems they provide assistive tools for those who may be lacking in techniques or aptitude.  Good to know.

Silver: That's right, they gave me a good way to compensate for my lack of experience.

Silver: Even if I were to fall asleep, I can simply set a timer and the dish won't burn.

Silver: Also, when the timer goes off, it makes a noise, so it would wake me up… Or at least, it should.

Jamil: How did it ever come to your mind to use a pressure cooker as an alarm clock in the first place…?

Silver: I shouldn't constantly rely on outside tools… But I think it's something that I currently have a need for.

Jamil: Thank you for the food.

Jamil: I'm not sure how much of this can be said was of your own skills, but I'll say it was edible.

Silver: Well, it wasn't a flawless victory, but I suppose at least it wasn't an abject failure… I'll continue to work at it.

Ghost Chef: Well done! Looks like you made it through to the end without falling asleep.

Silver: Ah… That reminds me.

Silver: I started to think of how I'd like to make for my father the tomato stew and cabbage rolls that you mentioned…

Silver: Perhaps it's because that was on my mind that I was able to keep the drowsiness at bay.

Ghost Chef: That's because we can't help but try to put forth our best effort whenever we imagine how happy people would look eating our food.

Silver: I see… I guess your state of mind is rather important when it comes to cooking.

Requested by Anonymous.

[roxxiies]

hiii :3c i see that requests are open! so if you don’t mind, may i request hcs for ling, aamon, hayabusa (not sure if you have a character limit) with a tank reader that always has their backs / ready to sacrifice for them :D thank you in advance ♡!

it’s always support healers when it comes to fics and, as a carmilla main, the tanks need some love too ✊

— ☁️ anonnie

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐀𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍, 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

SFW, TANK!READER HEADCANONS (SEPARATE)

a.n.: hellow, ☁️ annonie ! me is glad you are back hihi and indeed, we must provide love for the tank mains 👆👆

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

Ling is fond of supports and it all makes sense that he is skeptical around tanks.

Thinking that he doesn't need them with how he dives in, secure kills, and escapes unharmed. Oh but when it comes to you? He's uncharacteristically impressed. No matter how he denies it.

He just likes how fast you manoeuvre your skills and how quick your responses are with his combos.

Then there, he would often follow you and respond quickly to your set-ups... and somehow he couldn't help but have a preference for players now.

Ling was surprised with himself, at first, that a tank user such as yourself could make the matches effortless and finally enjoyable for him. 

He'll find himself more competitive in matches when you’re on his team and he will no longer just play to win.

^ Now, he plays to impress you, to show that he’s not just some flashy assassin but an assassin that you'll be amazed at.

Something he does is when you pull off a big combo with your set-up and he responds right away, he'd glance your way, just to see if you noticed.

He tells himself that he needs to thank you at least but all you'll get is a satisfied huff and a pat on the back.

Ling's full of himself, you see, but he hopes you'll eventually understand just how much he appreciates having you as his partner on the battlefield.

𝐀𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍

Aamon, ever the battlefield tactician, will subtly direct your movements during a fight.

He doesn't judge you or belittle you; he only leads you, making sure that you two will always have the upper hand in battles.

During intense battles, he'd stick close to you, using his agility to dodge attacks from enemies who would try to overwhelm you.

Your role as a tank is immediately evident. Aamon, though reserved, gives you genuine praise for your performance.

He'd notice your willingness to take on significant damage and protect your teammates; he can't help but notice that you're selfless… and yet someone he can count on.

But when the battle turns unfavourable, Aamon guides you through a tactical retreat easily. 

Despite your imposing presence on the battlefield, your personality might be warm and approachable. It's a contrast to the duke's more reserved nature, but either way, this makes you a reliable and trustworthy ally who he deemed easy to get along with.

Your confidence in your skills, along with Aamon’s strategic demeanor, makes enemies wonder if they'd use their main heroes or what HAHAHA

In rare moments, Aamon might share a light-hearted joke about the battle. You'd be surprised, but your heart swells knowing you're this close to the duke.

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐀

Hayabusa is a competitive man, and he will initially see you as a rival, someone who could potentially overshadow his own power.

But as you continue to fight side by side, he begins to see something different in you... a partner who can keep up with his relentless pace.

And when you start taking a step ahead of him, he’s captivated, thinking that your skill might just be the perfect complement to his own.

Though he’d never say it out loud, he’s secretly happy with how effortlessly you two can dominate the battlefield together.

Following the battle, Hayabusa would invite you to a traditional tea ceremony. It’s rare, one he reserves for only his closest allies, and something he now looks forward to.

Hayabusa swears that it’s your fault he’s so impressed—your skills have intrigued him to the point where he now offers convinces you to train together. He'd be pleased and happy when you taught him your techniques as well.

Back on the battlefield, he now has the habit of staying just out of sight, observing you among the battlefield from the shadows. You'd use it to your advantage and play aggressively because you know that Hayabusa is always nearby, ready to strike if things went south.

Your teammates are amazed—and perhaps a little intimidated—by your combined combos.

Together, you and Hayabusa have become unstoppable. A duo who can knock em out without those men realising what's even happening 👆

[hannie-dul-set]

who in enhypen would agree to platonically kiss you.

because i feel like i have to do this for every group i write, so expect me to word vomit a tubatu version soon after this one.

seventeen ver. / 127 ver. / dream ver.

heeseung: honestly you thought he'd agree without a second thought, but a smirk suddenly plays on his lips and he pulls out the "what if i don't want to? what are you gonna do?" and you'd rather die than have him bask in your mortification, so you turn around. run away. try to run away, but the bitch suddenly pulls you into his lap and oh. you can feel his breath on your lips. his grip is firm on your waist. you're actually about to fucking kiss him BUT— "ah. sorry. i changed my mind." | rating: 0/10 but maybe if u change ur tune from platonic to romantic, then he'd agree.

jay: "can i think about it first?" jay isn't one to jump into hasty decisions, especially one that can permanently change the trajectory of your ten year long friendship for better or for worse just so you can make some hairless bitch jealous. he thinks about it. he's thinking. he's thinking very hard about it, until one day he finally says okay "okay" "? okay what?" "let's make out" "??? jay i asked u that favor five months ago what do u—" | rating: 5/10 delayed but u got him?? to kiss u??? but??? now u have a new problem because park jongseong, what are we?

jake: he knows you kissed him at the party last night to get ur cheating ex off ur ass. he knows that and he was totally, 100% completely fine with it. he can totally pretend like nothing happened. absolutely. just doing a friend a favor. a buddy. a pal. a good 'ol mate. that is until exactly one month passes by and he suddenly says "oh damn haha happy kissmonthsary babe u have any more exes to drive away hahaha just asking haha." | rating: 8/10 you're sure a kissmonthsary doesn't exist, but how can u deny him when he's twiddling his fingers like a schoolgirl with a first crush.

sunghoon: flustered flustered flustered "i'm sorry? haha i mean ofc u want to kiss me who wouldn't hahhahaha anw ur joking right—" you aren't. sunghoon starts sweating and he's nervous and about to piss himself because if he says no, you're gonna think he's a LOSER (you already know he's a loser) a big fucking LOSER (sunghoon, you are a loser). | rating: 3/10 on the first try because the moment your lips touched he turned into stone. he may be a loser but he's a prideful loser so expect his score to increase with each try at his insistence.

sunoo: "hey sunoo, i need ur help. can i ki—" cue his aggressive side eye. cue the absolute look of disgust on his face at the mere insinuation that you want to kiss him without strings attached. how dare you. | rating: 1/10 because you did get to kiss him in the end. you did. but before that you had to ask permission from his parents (heeseung and jake), you had to meet his actual parents, you had to exchange vows at the altar, and— wait this isn't exactly platonic anymore isn't it?

jungwon: jokes on u jungwon orchestrated the whole thing that'll lead you to asking him. he gave you a lipstick as birthday present and he's like "sorry haha i'm not sure if it's a good one the saleslady said it doesn't smudge but idk." there it goes. seed planted. all that's left is for you to ask him if he....wants to help u test it out.....yanno.....as friends. and before you know it the red tint is now smudged between your lips and his, smiling victoriously into your mouth because yes. his plan worked. | rating: 10/10 because you suddenly have a dozen new lip products and "hey. should we test if these also smudge or not?"

ni-ki: "oh sure. go ahead." he agrees to it SO easily that you suspicious, eyes narrowed, but you set it aside for now and lean closer to his face but WOOSH. he's swerved away. "riki stay still, what are u—" WHOOSH. he's five steps away. you see the look on his face. the shit eating grin saying, if you wanna kiss me, come and get it and oh it's on, nishimura. | rating: 2/10 because you end up chasing him all over the parking lot and jake asked if he can join your game of tag.

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

07 sun and moon. where you plan a surprise for ushijima’s birthday with the help of his teammates

<< 06 saturn ii. | >> 08 to be human.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: as inspired by “i promised myself i would never fall in love but it was 4am and we were laughing way too hard and i felt happy for the first time in a long time" this one got a little out of hand hahaha :) hope you enjoy a cute slice of life chapter after all that angst from saturn parts i and ii - ave word count: 2.8k warnings: cursing, falling in love tags: @lemurzsquad -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

august, second year

you hope that the boys did a good job of keeping your plan under wraps as you signaled to semi in the volleyball gym,. it’s summer break, and you had baked ushijima’s favorite cake as a surprise for his birthday. you have been planning this since the break started, coordinating with the boys on the team to celebrate his birthday. 

you stay hidden from his sight outside the doors, watching as tendo claps his hands twice to get the team’s attention, counting to three before they launch into a terrible rendition of the birthday song. it physically hurts you to hear the out of tune and unsynchronized singing, but you make your feet move forward. 

the candles on cake flicker as you step into the building, joining in to the singing as best you can. ushijima turns around to find you smiling sweetly at him, dressed in a white summer dress that falls to your knees, as if he heard you among the sea of voices. 

there is surprise in the way his eyes slightly widened, lips parting. he did not see this coming, you note with a strange sense of satisfaction, feeling a song coursing through your body. 

you stop in front of him, lifting the cake for him to blow the candles out. “happy birthday, toshi” you have been using that shortened version of his name for him lately, preferring the way it sounds. what you didn’t know though, was that the team has been giving him grief about you doing it, teasing him to no end when you were not around despite his repeated rejections of claims that the two of you were dating. 

a wide smile graces your lips as you soak in the way he stares back and forth at you and the cake before closing his eyes for what only felt like seconds, making a wish. you watch as his tongue darts across his lips before he puts out the candles in one breath. 

you hand over the cake to one of the first years, as ushijima thanks the team for the surprise and orders them back to practice in his captain voice. the third years had chosen him to lead the team, leaving shortly after they were done with interhigh nationals to focus on preparing for university entrance examinations. 

you know how significant it was for him to be chosen as captain. how he valued being relied upon by his teammates to see them through to victory. he aspired to be the dependable ace, and now he is. 

you place a hand on his arm, stopping them from resuming practice. it was evening now, and definitely time for dinner. you have a reservation booked at a restaurant in town, and have made the necessary arrangements for the team to be able to attend it. 

“coach gave you all time off tonight,” you announce, enjoying the various looks of surprise and respect on their faces except ushijima, who looks like he saw this coming. “c’mon, we have a dinner reservation in thirty minutes.”

they stand frozen in place, before one of the first years, shirabu, breaks the silence. “how did you do that? coach is so strict, he never lets us slack off at practice.”

you laugh, noting how they felt comfortable to address you now, a far cry from the beginning of the school year when they were too afraid to approach you whenever you visited your friends at practice. “that’s because i’m coach’s favorite,” you wink at the setter, sending him into a blushing fit. 

though the coach seemed hard to get along with, he had taken a liking to you after you brought him homemade food on a few occasions to bribe him into letting you stay and watch the matches. despite the mean facade he wears, he was always kind when he interacted with you.

you remember him taking a look between you and ushijima back in may, having noticed how you two seemed to appear together and how you stood closer than normal friends would, elbows touching and how only ushijima got packed bentos from you, and bluntly asked if you were dating. 

you had looked at ushijima, meeting his eyes and immediately looked away, heat burning your face all the way to the tip of your ears. and the two of you had denied it so quick and loudly that it caught the attention of the shiratorizawa players who were in the middle of a match. the spike the opponents sent back caught your team off guard, hitting soekawa in the back of his head and scoring the match point. 

coach had made them do a hundred serves each as penalty after the visiting college team left. 

sometimes you wonder if ushijima has told him anything about you to make him treat you so kindly. sometimes when you sat next to him at matches, helping him record the plays since they did not have a manager, and he talked to you about your life and your plans, he felt like more of a parental figure than your own parents. sometimes when he looks at you with that all knowing glint in his aged eyes, holding his words back and trusting you to make your own decision, you wish your parents were more present in your life. 

“go change into clean clothes, please!” you shoo the sweaty boys away from you when they try to give you a hug. the first years, recognizing the influence you have with their coach, had taken to lining up in a straight line, saluting to you with reverence. “yes, senpai!” 

you shake your head at the younger boys as they start cleaning up, jumping with excitement at the prospects of being given time off. you place the cake back into the cake carrier to bring to the restaurant as dessert. 

“y/n-chan!” tendo casually walks over to you, hands placed on his hips. “you look real pretty today. ushijima-kun must be over the moon that you dressed up for his birthday.” he grins at you teasingly.

you elbow the boy, rolling your eyes at him. “shut your mouth if you don’t have anything good to say, satori.”

“huh? anyone with eyes would be.” he sticks his tongue out at you, leaning back on the bench with his hands braced on either side of himself. 

you sit down next to him, watching the team packing up the equipment and mopping the floors. particularly the team captain. you got serious, remembering their recent loss in nationals. “how was practice? i know the interhigh loss must have been tough.”

“well enough, i suppose. we are constantly pushing each other to improve, ushijima-kun most of all.” he shrugs, pausing. you know that he gives his all and more to be the best out there. after all, he is one of the top three aces in the country at the high school level. but still, you worry that he is pushing himself too hard.

when school was in session, you had to drag your boys out of the gym by the neck on some evenings. they would lose track of time, practicing hours past practice, wearing their tired bodies down. and you would be there to tell them off. on some days, bribing them with food gets them out of the gym. 

tendo pins you with a knowing look. “i’m glad you found each other, you know.”

“who?” you frown at him. he needs to stop being so vague and whatever this is.

“you and ushijima-kun. he’s different around you, a good different,” he gestures toward you, “and you, you are happier around him. you smile more, and you come out of your shell to hang out with us. it feels like he’s the sun and you’re the moon, and you reflect the light he shines on you radiantly.” 

you understand what he meant. you, of all people, would know. being around ushijima feels like basking in warm sunlight in spring when it’s a little too chilly without the sun. though you don’t want to admit it, it feels like home. 

you don’t care to dig deeper and put a name to the feeling. you just wish to savor the present before it slips through your fingers. all you know is that you truly felt safe to be yourself around him. you love the person you are, the person you are becoming, with ushijima by your side. 

since that vulnerable night you shared with him months ago, he had kept his promise. whenever you took a step towards the light, he was right there next to you. and when the darkness tried to lure you back into its familiar embrace, he held your hand tight, refusing to let you go. 

slowly, but surely, you began to look forward to plans you made with your friends and classes that you found an interest in. to see the summer transition to autumn. to the life you would have after high school. music started to feel like magic instead of an escape. 

the hazy future that had avoided you became clearer. you had friends who cared about you. you grew the courage to show yourself and say the things you were too afraid to say in conversations. you smiled more, laughed more. you started living, and it felt good. it felt amazing, actually. you have developed the confidence to be the person that you kept hidden away for far too long.

“i’m the lucky one,” you mutter to yourself, lost in your own thoughts, failing to notice that tendo had been called away and the boys are filing out of the gym, chattering excitedly. semi calls out to you, “let’s go, y/n!”

“wait for me!” you yell back at him, jumping up and grabbing the cake carrier. semi links his arm through yours as you catch up to them. 

a lively air surrounds your group of friends as you head into town for dinner. your party of twenty takes up a good portion of the restaurant. talking and laughing about the most random things, from semi’s recent obsession with styling his hair to the time ohira got so nervous talking to a girl he said he likes her friend. 

the waitress comes by the table to take your orders, timidly trying to speak to the boys, but they are all distractedly speaking amongst themselves. so you stood up, clinking your fork to a glass of water to get their attention, telling them to decide on their orders and tallying up the different sets that they chose. she shoots you a grateful smile for making her life easier and not having to interact with the intimidating group of boys. you return an apologizing smile to her for your party who is being difficult to handle. 

dinner flies by with you seated between ushijima and semi. tendo rose to his feet, copying your earlier actions of clinking a utensil to a glass to get everyone’s attention. and proceeds to give a birthday toast to ushijima. “ushijima-kun, i am grateful to be able to call you my friend. happy birthday to the best team captain i have ever had!”

you all cheer for his sweet and simple birthday wish, sounds of clinking glasses and whoops fill the air. soekawa, seated beside tendo goes next, and then, ohira, and one by one, going around the table, birthday wishes are said to ushijima. 

shirabu wishes his senpai a great year of volleyball ahead and to win the nationals in his final year. semi admits that he admires ushijima’s work ethic when it comes to volleyball and for the soon-to-be third years to do their best. 

and then all eyes fall to you, the last one at the table to say something. the only girl sitting at the table full of strong-framed volleyball players. but somehow, you don’t feel like the odd one out. no, you feel perfectly comfortable with the group of friends who is beginning to feel like family.

but it is the pair of earth colored eyes that knocks the breath out of you. 

“wakatoshi, it has been my honor to call you my friend in the past year. you’ve seen parts of me that no one else had seen,” you pause, the hoots and excited clapping from the second years interrupting you. you shoot them a glare that promises death, realizing how your words implied something else. 

but you ignore the burning in your cheeks as you continue your toast. “and yet you stayed when you did not have to. you’re an amazing person, and an even better volleyball player. let’s celebrate this day next year and every year after that. happy birthday, captain!”

you meet his eyes, a warm light to them. a silent thank you reverberating in their depths.

no, thank you. a blink, and then a slow smile back to ushijima as the world fades away to silence until it was just the two of you. 

you see the understanding in his eyes. so many words left unsaid because they were not needed, not with him. they say soulmates complete each other. but you never believed in soulmates. even if they did exist, he wouldn’t be yours.

tendo is right. he’s a sun, capable of powering entire planets, and you are but a barren moon, thriving under his care, much like the other planets and their own moons in the solar system. just as the moon orbits the earth and the sun, so does the sun orbit the center of the milky way galaxy. and the sun is always out of the moon’s reach, destined for greater things.

you are grateful to have him in your life, but you know that sooner or later, he will move on. he is meant for more than just this. such is this life. so you will take whatever fate has given you and hold on to it tightly while you can. 

even if your souls are made from the same fabric, it is not enough for the ill-fated hand that you have been dealt. it should be enough for you to be able to share this time with ushijima. it has to be.

and then the noise comes flooding back in, pulling you back to reality as ushijima looks away towards someone who pulled him into a conversation. 

you stand up abruptly, unsettled by the realization that crept up on you. “i’m going to get some fresh air”, you say tightly to no one in particular, grabbing your purse and walking out the door. 

you settle on the curved bench, throwing your head back and enjoying the occasional cool breeze kissing the warm skin on your neck, legs stretched out like a cat. you stare up at the sky, at the moon and the stars twinkling in the distance. 

a heavy weight settling besides you startles you, sending you scrambling to sit up. “it’s me” ushijima. 

“hey, you. what are you doing away from your party, birthday boy?” you relax back into your comfortable position. sometimes you think you get high on air around him.

he nudges you. “not the same without the person who made it all happen.”

you unconsciously scoot closer to him despite the heat radiating off his body. “i enjoy their company, but i think the quiet suits me more.” against your best judgement, you lean in towards him, resting your heavy head against the curve of his shoulder. the silence always feels so loving in his presence.

“thank you,” you turn to look at him, finding his gaze already on you. his face is inches away from yours. that’s the closest you two have ever gotten, you think. you could lose yourself in his eyes forever. 

“for what?” it comes out as a whisper. 

there is a twinkle in his eyes. “for today. for making my birthday such a memorable one. for all the food you made me. for the green tea you keep stocked for me. for seeing me.” a smile graces his lips, “for being on my side. for nothing. for everything. for being you.” he lists, counting on both hands.

maybe it’s the way his voice calms you and soothes your fears. maybe it’s the feeling of his arm against yours. maybe it’s the way the moonlight is shining in his hair. maybe it’s the feeling of the melody that had been slumbering in you shift and open one eye. maybe it’s the way he saw your darkest and ugliest parts and still chose to stay. maybe it’s the way he felt like home.

because despite your best intentions, despite the promise you made to yourself to not fall in love, you find yourself stepping off the cliff.

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reblogs and comments are appreciated! i wanted to yell so much as i proofread this part omg AHHH my inbox is also open if you would like to yell about them privately <3

[seabirdtxt]

It's been a while since I made a request to a blog, but I really enjoy your writing, and your AUs got my brain going with ideas (especially the Glitch AU). It has me thinking about how our favorite little Puppet boys would react to some of the... interesting hobbies I have: two of those being things like Doll making/repainting, and cosplaying/ general fantastical costuming.

I feel like both of these hobbies have the potential to lead to both hilarious situations and moments of being a bit... perturbed at best (especially doll making: the random assortment of doll limbs being places, or having naked dolls that are precariously hung from the ceiling to finish drying from paint jobs).

I do know that at least Kabukimono and Wanderer (Scara might have forgotten since he hadn't used the skill in a long time, and Wanderer likely relearned it) know how to sew, so the sewing part could be cute bonding time.

Could be platonic or romantic in nature: both would be fine. And also, fully understand it will probably take you time to get to this, of you even get to it at all. I just appreciate you taking the time to read this request~! Can't wait for your next bits of work: hope you have a wonderful day~!!! 💕💕💕💕

hey!! thanks so much for your request!! this was a funny idea bc i can't imagine any of scara's iterations being any good at collaboration but for all separate reasons lmao

I'm not too knowledgeable about doll making but hopefully you like this anyway :D i wrote it as a bit of a glitch!AU spinoff in my mind, but feel free to imagine any other scenarios these three clowns might come together for hahaha WC. 1.3k

----- ⚘ -----

When the three puppets were told not to enter your room and disturb your hobby workstation, this isn’t what they had in mind. Wanderer thought maybe you did something embarrassing as a hobby, Scaramouche thought it might be something potentially dangerous especially if you intended to keep it a secret from them, while Kabukimono was certain that you did some sort of artistic craft that you preferred to keep hidden until the end product was finished.

All three of them were right, in some way or another. 

The three of them stand in your workshop, staring in horror at the dozens of separated doll components you’d strung up around the edges of the room. Scraps of tiny, doll-sized outfits were scattered around your desk, and a half-painted doll head was mounted on some sort of device in the middle of the chaos. The doll’s single painted eye watches their trespassing with silent judgment.

You’re glad you find them out so soon, and you have exactly three seconds to stop them from touching anything in the workshop.

“WhatareyouguysDOINGinhere?!” Nailed it. 

Kabukimono leaps a vertical foot into the air out of fright at your sudden and shrill outburst, while the other two react in more subdued manners before turning around to face you, standing in the doorway behind them. Your arms are outstretched, palms forward, and you’re braced as though you’re anticipating some sort of impact.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You warn. “Not all of these are dry, and if you smudge anything I’ll have to restart them.”

“Why do you have a bunch of dismembered doll corpses?” Scaramouche asks, jerking his thumb at the precariously hanging doll components.

“A seller in Inazuma asked me if I could help him finish a few dolls, since I told him I used to do it as a hobby back in my world.” You explain, not dropping your guarded position. “If any of you want to eat dinner this week, I suggest you step away from the dolls. Slowly.”

“Can you not call them that?” Kabukimono complains to Scara as the trio carefully shuffle out of your workshop. “They’re not corpses, they just haven’t been put together yet.”

“Well, they aren’t alive either, so what’s your point?” 

“If you need some help completing them, I can pitch in.” The three of you look wide-eyed at Wanderer, who seems to immediately regret making the offer. He shrugs and looks away quickly. “Or not. Whatever.”

“I’d love some help,” you start hesitantly. “But what did you want to help with?”

“I can sew the clothes, I guess.”

Scaramouche’s nose wrinkles at this statement. “You can sew?”

“Why is that so surprising?” Wanderer counters, reaching into the inner lining of his haori and showing off a small, familiar cloth doll. Instantly, Kabukimono is patting himself down with a frantic expression, before pointing at Wanderer accusingly.

“Where did you get that?! I lost it a long time ago!”

“Heh, of course you did.” Wanderer smirks. “I made mine. What, are you telling me you never thought of making yourself a new one?”

“I was never good at doing the small stitches…” Kabukimono pouts, crossing his arms and eyeing the doll jealously. 

“That aside,” Wanderer continues, turning to you. “I can help you finish the clothes for your project dolls. The faster you can finish them, the faster you can retrieve the commission for them, right?”

“That’s true, I guess,” you acquiesce, already running the math in your head. If you could get the commission for the dolls early, you might not have to budget as hard this week. 

“I wanna help too!” Kabukimono declares, raising his hand (a bit redundantly, given he’s standing right next to you).

“Whatever,” Scaramouche snorts and waves dismissively as he begins to walk away. “If that’s what you nerds want to waste your time on, be my guest. As long as you don’t make it my problem, I don’t care what you do in your free time.”

“Party pooper,” you say, sticking out your tongue at his retreating back. “Well, what do you say, guys? Let’s get this bread?”

“Sure,” Wanderer nods, heading back into the workshop.

“What does bread have to do with dollmaking?” Kabukimono asks, even as he’s herded into the room by you.

“I’ll explain later, let’s finish up these bad boys first,” you promise, and the workshop door closes behind you.

----- ⚘ -----

“I made another sword!” Kabukimono declares, hurrying over to your workbench and showing off the tiny doll-sized sword he’d made. The fifth one, so far.

“That’s great, buddy!” You give him a pat, to his delight. “I think we’re okay on swords for now, though, d’you wanna try making something else this time?”

“Okay!”

Wanderer looks up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a few pins sticking out of his mouth as he uses them to hold his patterns in place. 

“Did your toymaker guy say what kinds of dolls he wanted?” He asks, holding up another utilitarian-looking outfit. “I can’t imagine this is what he had in mind when he asked for your help.”

“I mean, these are kind of edging into action figure territory,” you shrug. “But that’s probably fine. There’s a market out there for everything, nowadays.”

“Make a kimono that looks like the Shogun,” Kabukimono suggests, handing Wanderer some purple fabric. “Everybody likes the Shogun, right? She should be pretty popular.”

You and Wanderer both wince (for different reasons) at Kabukimono’s well-meant statement. However, Wanderer does take the purple fabric and sets it gently aside, and you wonder if he’ll take the suggestion after all. 

“Are you losers done in here? I’m tired of doing the dishes for two days straight,” Scaramouche kicks the door in, uncaring of the delicate work you three are doing. Thankfully, the risky parts are all done, so nothing suffers any damage with his sudden entrance. Scara drops three bowls onto your workbench, each piled with fried rice and vegetables.

“Ha, you’d make a great housewife,” Wanderer snickers, earning himself a smack on the back of his head. “Ow.”

“Thank you!” Kabukimono takes his bowl and brings it to where he’s working on something, hopefully not another sword. 

“Thanks,” you say as well, giving Scara a genuine smile. The puppet scowls and leaves as quickly as he’d come in.

“Don’t bother! It doesn’t benefit anyone if you drop dead from starvation, you know?” he sneers over his shoulder as he slams the door shut. 

There’s silence as you three eat the lunch that was generously provided, stacking the bowls and putting them beside the door for when you guys go for your next break.

“I think I’m done after I finish this last outfit,” Wanderer sighs, holding up the unfinished garment. It looks hilarious in his hands, a cheerful pink and purple kimono in stark contrast to his deadpan expression.

“I’m almost done too!” Kabukimono adds, holding up his latest project: a doll-sized armor set. You smile gratefully at the both of them, even as you rub your temples with a sigh.

“Okay, great, I’ll put these together and bring them to the toymaker later this afternoon, then!” You say, hoping you sound enthusiastic about it. You think about the mismatched collection of outfits and sword accessories, wondering how you were going to sell this to your temporary employer. 

----- ⚘ -----

As it turns out, if there’s one thing Inazumans like, it’s swordsmen. The toymaker looks in awe at your half dozen tiny samurai, handing you a pouch of mora with a pleased word of thanks. 

As you’re headed back home, you get a telepathic message from Wanderer.

KABUKIMONO WANTS TO KNOW WHEN WE’RE GETTING MORE DOLLS.

‘He fired me, we’ll have to do something else,’ you think back, hoping you don’t sound too guilty in your head.

As much as you love these guys, you aren’t sure you could take another two days straight of having to collab with them. Hopefully buying some treats on the way home will placate them.

—– ⚘ —–

^ reader trying to juggle all three scara iterations without breaking any of the dolls LMAO