#I know he's just a guy doing his job but. I care him so immensely & I do not have the words to properly describe it

[foxfeast]

After everything is finally over and he’s happily married to the love of his life, Luo Binghe decides that he really doesn’t want to be the emperor of the demonic realm anymore. It was never his dream, okay?! He was only doing it to show Shizun that he was strong and capable of taking care of him, but now he just really wants to settle down in a cottage with his Shizun and raise chickens and grow a garden! He wants to be a housewife!

Of course, this means that someone else has to become the new emperor, so Luo Binghe goes to Tianlang-jun first to try and give his father his title back.

“Nope,” says Tianlang-jun. He’s never had an interest in ruling the demonic realm, and now that Zhuzhi-lang isn’t here to handle all the serious stuff for him, he has even less of an interest in it. Besides, he’s just gotten married to his Qingyuan, and he’s perfectly content being a pampered and spoiled wife of a Peak Lord! He has all the time in the world to get railed and read bad porn novels! He’s not giving that up for a title he’s never wanted.

Luo Binghe is frustrated, but he can’t say that he doesn’t understand his father’s sentiments, so he goes to Sha Hualing next. On the surface she might not seem like the perfect candidate, but she’s basically been running the demonic realm for Luo Binghe this entire time anyway. Plus, Luo Binghe is certain that Sha Hualing wouldn’t pass up the chance to beat his ass for the title.

“No way,” says Sha Hualing. Sure, it was once her dream to become the empress of the demonic realm, and she often fantasized about beating the shit out of Luo Binghe. However, she’s recently discovered the delight that is Liu Mingyan and now she has no interest in doing something that would take her away from her precious Mingyan. The woman is freakier than she looks, okay?! Sha Hualing is having the time of her life having the world’s kinkiest sex! There are even knives involved!

Luo Binghe can’t say he gets this, but he moves on anyway. There’s only one other person he can ask to take over the mantle, so he goes to Mobei-jun.

“…” says Mobei-jun with a scowl, which is the equivalent of him stamping his foot and shouting ‘NO!’. He’s never been good at ruling—he speaks better with his fists than he does with his words. Besides, after seeing all the bullshit Luo Binghe has had to go through as the emperor, he has no desire to become the emperor anymore. He’s no good at delegating resources or administration at all, and to be honest, he’s really bad at math. That’s why Qinghua handles all his paperwork!

That’s when it clicks in Luo Binghe’s head that the perfect candidate for emperor of the demonic realm has been under his nose this entire time. He summons Tianlang-jun, Sha Hualing, Mobei-jun, and the candidate in question to discuss this.

“I think Shang-shishu should be the emperor,” says Luo Binghe without preamble.

Shang Qinghua nearly faints on the spot. He thinks this is a cruel joke meant to fuck with him—everyone knows hamsters are easily frightened to death, after all!

Yet to Shang Qinghua’s immense horror, he sees the four most powerful people in the world taking this suggestion very seriously.

“I have no objections,” says Tianlang-jun. Of course he wouldn’t! The guy is so placid you could suggest marrying a fish off to a dog and he’d just delightedly agree! All he lives for is chaos and satisfying his own whims—Shang Qinghua would know, he created the guy!

“I agree. Peak Lord Shang is fit for the job,” says Sha Hualing. Shang Qinghua, while flattered by her compliment, trusts her judgement even less than Tianlang-jun’s. He knows that all this saintess cares about is having increasingly alarming sex with her wife. Additionally, she’s always been eager to shirk off the ‘boring’ tasks to other people. How is this any different?!

“Mn,” says Mobei-jun, gazing at Shang Qinghua with a small smile and eyes brimming with so much pride and joy. This is the equivalent of him jumping up and down and going ‘YIPPEE!’. Shang Qinghua can’t believe that his husband is actually supporting this notion, especially since he thought that Mobei-jun would want to keep him working in his palace forever. He seriously can’t believe this turn of events.

Shang Qinghua insists that he can’t be the emperor of the demonic realm—he’s a human, and a Peak Lord, at that! However, the demons in the room are not listening to him. Sha Hualing and Luo Binghe have already moved on to discuss the intricacies and delights of rope bondage, while Mobei-jun and Tianlang-jun have started kicking each other. In a last ditch attempt, Shang Qinghua turns to Shen Qingqiu (who is never away from Luo Binghe, not anymore.)

“Bro, you gotta help me out! Tell them I can’t do it!” Shang Qinghua pleads, clasping his hands together.

Shen Qingqiu just waves his fan and raises an eyebrow at Shang Qinghua. This guy! He’s such a fraud!

“Why not?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “You created this world. You have better knowledge of the demon realm and the tribes, culture, and future problems it’ll face than anyone else. Besides, you’ve practically been running the demon realm behind the scenes this entire time. There’s no one in this world more qualified than you. Why shouldn’t you do it?”

Shang Qinghua is actually kind of touched that Shen Qingqiu—and everyone else present, really—think so highly of him. And, honestly, he loves the politics and culture of the demon realm. He loves the demons that live there. He wrote this world, okay?! He’s allowed to enjoy it! When he first started writing Proud Immortal Demon Way, he was most excited to delve into the demon realm! Plus, Shen Qingqiu has a point, as much as it pains him to admit it. He really has been running the demonic realm in lieu of the actual emperor for quite a while.

Thus, he very reluctantly agrees. Still, he’s quite anxious about being a human running the demonic realm, and he voices these concerns.

“Don’t worry,” says Luo Binghe with a resolute nod. “I’ll handle it.”

Tianlang-jun, Sha Hualing, and Mobei-jun give their respective signs of agreement.

Shang Qinghua doesn’t know why this make him break out into a cold sweat.

This is how Shang Qinghua ends up battling Luo Binghe for twelve hours straight for the title of emperor. He wins not by might or force—Luo Binghe is overwhelmingly powerful, and he’d never throw a fight on purpose. No, Shang Qinghua wins entirely by outsmarting Luo Binghe, who offers his sincere and heartfelt congratulations.

He’s crowned emperor in front of the entire demonic realm. He was incredibly nervous about the reception he’d receive from his new subjects, but they just kinda shrug and go “yeah, okay,” as if it makes perfect sense for a human to be the new demonic emperor. Little does Shang Qinghua know that they’re only okay with it because he’s the one doing it.

There are a few demons who aren’t cool with this, of course, but with four of the strongest demons in the world backing him, there’s really nothing they can do.

In the end, Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe move to the countryside to live out their cottagecore dreams. Tianlang-jun goes back to Yue Qingyuan to become a trophy wife. Sha Hualing and Liu Mingyan release a very questionable novel in celebration.

And Mobei-jun finally gets to see his husband treated with the respect and admiration he deserves, all while getting to live out his fantasies of being Shang Qinghua’s little concubine.

[iinterstellaarr]

fratboy!satoru having a crush on you is kinda like burning your hand on a hot stove.

it sucks.

satoru is cocky in all meanings of the word. he’s constantly on top of tables, playing beer pong, or dangling and swinging from the chandelier in the frat house that is still up by the grace of God.

yet somehow, despite walking into class 25 minutes late and complaining about his hangover for the rest of your hour long class, he still maintains nearly perfect grades.

every girl has a crush on him, or thinks he’s the scum of the earth. every guy wants to be him and he knows this. he carries himself with such confidence that it’s not hard to see why he’s so popular.

and then there’s you.

you applied to this prestigious college in hopes of getting your degree and getting the hell out of there the first chance you got. somehow, you got in and are now dedicated to spending your next 5 years stuck in this school

and stuck with satoru.

he comes from a family of immense wealth. you were pretty sure he didn’t even need to go to college or have a job, and yet here he was in all his douchebaggy glory. everytime he walked past girls would giggle and guys would grumble

but he was focused on you.

you never made a noise when he walked past, never even looked up from the dumb tiktok’s you were watching on your phone. even when he made a spectacle in class, you wouldn’t even spare him a giggle or an eye roll. to you, it was like he didn’t even exist.

your lack of presence had somehow caught his eye, and through the flood of people that he saw everyday, he was stuck on you.

-

“i literally don’t get it.” satoru grumbled into his pillow as his roommate, suguru, rolled his eyes for the trillionth time.

“why do you care so much? it’s not like the flood of girls nipping at your heels is gonna go dry anytime soon.” suguru massaged the temples on his head, desperately trying to relieve himself from the satoru induced migraine

“it’s different! i want an eyeroll, a scoff, something!” satoru flops over on his back and looks to his roommate

“you’re annoyed because she doesn’t acknowledge your existence?”

“exactly!”

���narcissist.” satoru groaned at his roommate and pouted into his pillow once again.

“your just salty your bumble date ghosted you.” satoru claimed, and quickly retracted as a pillow was throw at his head.

-

the next class you had early in the morning made you groan as you sat down and opened your bag to grab your computer.

“is this seat taken?” your head snaps up while you meet bright blue eyes, although they were covered by dark sunglasses.

you whip your head around to the plethora of empty seats, even the ones in the back held no one, which was a miracle in itself.

“uhm, no?” you scooped up some of your items to make room for the lengthy boy as he sat down next to you. he leaned his head on his hand as he eyed you up and down.

“i don’t believe we’ve met. i’m satoru gojo, although you can just call me satoru, gorgeous.” he had a cocky grin on his face, sure that he was being charming by extending the pleasure of calling him by his name to you and by the slightest compliment.

“yeah, okay.” you nodded slightly, praying to whatever God would listen that he’d just leave you alone. his smile faltered at your dismissive tone, although he was far from done playing with you.

“what are you majoring in?” his eyes were still fixed on you, as if some omnipotent creature was whispering all the ways to make you tick, and he was listening as if it were scripture.

you rolled your eyes and spared him a glance although lacked a response as you continued to furiously type the paper that was due for this class.

after that blatant dismissal, he tried everything.

a large, very expensive looking bouquet by your dorm? he found them in the dumpster the next morning. causing a ruckus in the quad? you walked past him as if he were trash on the sidewalk. a pyramid of redbulls inside your dorm (how’d he get in?) was found in a donation box for other students who were struggling. nothing he did could ever catch your eye.

although he didn’t know the flowers you got him made you violently sneeze, so they were a hazard to keep in your living space. he didn’t know that the day he tackled suguru in the quad with the prayer of a fleeting glance, you were to focused on the mid term that was worth half your grade. the redbulls he left in your dorm just happened to be your least favorite flavor, and it probably was t healthy to drink all of those yourself. it wasn’t that you were purposely ignoring him, you just genuinely didn’t notice his foolish antics were to get your attention.

-

it wasn’t until the end of the year that satoru finally snapped.

he found you in the library, surrounded by books and half drunken iced coffee. you looked different from the girls that usually followed him. not bad different, but raw. real.

you didn’t notice him until his shadow blocked the flow of light that illuminated your books.

you looked up, sighing slightly before pulling out and earbud

“if this is about the flowers, i’m allergic-“

“get up.” his tone was different from the cocky frat boy you knew. he was nervous. nervous in your presence, nervous in the line of your sight. he looked like and insecure school boy finally talking to his crush

“excuse me?” you watched as he scooped up the books and carefully shoved them into your bag, pulling your chair out while you were still sat in it.

“i wanna talk.” he pulled you by your wrist, still holding your backpack as he made a dash for the exit

“we can’t just talk here?” your feet were clumsy following the man in front of you, considering he was a good foot taller that you.

“it’s important, just…” he paused, the words fluttered on his tounge but he bit back before it all came rushing out. “please.”

that shut you up.

he rounded the corner and shoved open the door to a long forgotten stair well.

gojo crossed his arms, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, exposing the frustration flickering in those icey eyes. “what is your deal with me?”

you blinked.

“huh?”

“i’ve tried everything. everything,” he said, voice sharper than his usual smooth tone. “you ignore me like i’m background noise. like i don’t even exist.”

you stared, silent, waiting.

“i mean, do you hate me? did i do something? am I just some frat idiot to you?” he ran a hand through his hair, pacing now. “you’re driving me insane and you don’t even care.”

“i do notice you, satoru.” his real name being slipped on your tounge caused his pacing to falter.

for the first time all year, you saw him. rough around the edges, and slightly insecure. he wasn’t satoru gojo, heir to a fortune many couldn’t comprehend and a total douchebag

he was just… satoru. a boy who didn’t know how to get the attention of someone like you without using elementary tactics.

“you don’t have to do anything dramatic to catch my eye. you don’t have to make small talk about stupid shit to get me to talk to you.”

“i see you, satoru. every over the top stunt, every weird little performance. i’ve seen it all. but the guy who leaves flowers im allergic too in front of my dorm to get attention?” you stood slowly, eyes locking with his. “that’s not who i’m interested in.”

he swallowed. “then who are you interested in?”

you leaned in just enough for your voice to hit him low and clear.

“the real you, whoever that is. it’s up to you to figure that out.”

and then you left him there, quiet for the first time in a long time.

-

the next time you saw satoru, he was just as nervous as last time. his eyes weren’t covered by his glasses and you swore you could see a glimmer of sweat drip down his forehead as he met you for the first class of the day.

“for you.” he held out a small iced coffee, the same one you had ordered for your impromptu study trip in the library.

he had memorized it.

in the small moment he saw to remember it, he had got it perfect.

“no flowers, no stupid tricks. just me.” you smiled as he handed it to you, the condensation on the cup making your hands cold and wet, but you didn’t mind.

“you remembered,” you said.

“ive been paying attention. even if you weren’t.”

you studied him. for once, he didn’t try to fill the silence. he just looked at you. nervous, hopeful, real.

and maybe he was still a little ridiculous. still loud, still dramatic in ways he couldn’t fully shake. but under all of that… there was something honest. something kind.

and maybe that was who satoru was all along.

“your still a frat idiot, satoru.”

“i’m your frat idiot.”

[vampzity]

black polish | HJS

pairing: nonchalant bf! han jisung x f! reader

you loved your boyfriend more than anything. you didn’t care for how quiet he was or his natural nonchalant manner. he still shown that he loved you, you were his sunshine and he was simply your moon. you keep each other balanced.

[warnings]: angst..??, overthinking, mentions of a small panic attack, idk anything else i missed, not proofread

word count: 776

“See, I told you black suits you.”

You smiled at him, closing up the bottle of clear coat and putting it aside to blow against his fingers. Han watched you intently, a blank expression on his face.

“What? You don’t like it?” you questioned.

He shook his head quickly, staying quiet as you fanned his nails. You titled your head at him, noticing how he made it a mission to avoid eye contact with you. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, trying to shake it off as nothing while the silence engulfed the two of you.

Han wasn’t always a talkative person, that was your job in the relationship. He didn’t have much reaction to a lot of things and it was normal for you two, but something this time around just felt off to you.

“I’m gonna make a sandwich, do you want one Hannie?” you got up from your bed, placing your polishes back on the dresser.

He nodded, watching as you walked out the room, your foot steps pattering against the stairs. He looked down at his nails, his face glowing red as he balled them into soft fists. He needed that— he needed all of this to get through the day. A day filled with immense amount of overthinking; thinking you were with the wrong person.

He heard the comments people made to you; telling you that you deserved someone who matched your sunshine. Someone who wasn’t so cold and reserved, that actually showed affection towards you. They mocked his intimidating demeanor, how his expression remained blank no matter the circumstances. Was he really who they say he was? You seemed happy and you guys rarely argued as you simply went with the flow.

Did he misunderstand the entirety of the relationship? Were you just trying to mask how unhappy you were this entire time?

“Hannie?”

He froze, looking up at you. You stood at the foot of the bed, holding the plate of sandwiches as your eyes fell to his hands. The black polish that coated his nails was now falling apart, chipped from the constant scratching that went unbeknownst to him.

You set the plate on the dresser, sitting beside him and grabbing his hands. He kept his eyes locked onto your hands, watching as your thumbs ran across his skin. What a waste of polish. Your nail polish. He surely did it now, without a doubt you were upset with him. His breathing was heightened, almost as if the walls in the room were closing in on him.

“Hey, hey look at me it’s okay.” you attempted to calm him down, keep his hands in your grasp.

“Is something bothering you? I’ve never seen you chip nail polish off this fast before.”

Han continued to avoid your gaze, shaking his head no. You tilted your head, a quiet sigh leaving your body. He felt your hand slip under his chin, pulling it to meet your eyes. You gave him a soft smile, squeezing his hands to reassure him that it was okay.

He hesitated for a second, not liking the idea of pulling you into unnecessary drama.

“It’s okay, you can tell me.”

Han remained silent, feeling as if the reasoning wasn’t worth the anxiety he felt. You glanced over at the polish beside him, grabbing it and opening the bottle. You held his hand, painting his nails one by one.

“Do you think i’m.. cold towards you?” you paused, giving him a concerned look.

“Not at all, what makes you think that?”

He hesitated once again, watching as you closed the bottle and set it aside you. Han opened his mouth to speak, only to stop himself and shut back down. It was always hard for him to open up when things bothered him— he still tried, but it wasn’t always easy for him to do.

“You know, I think we balance each other out well.” You fanned his nails, giving him a soft smile.

“So what if you’re quiet, or cold. It never feels that way to me. I talk a lot, you listen. When i’m too hyper, you keep me calm.”

Han glanced at you, a look of doubt still present in his eyes. You ruffled his hair a bit, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

“You truly feel that way?” he mumbled, resting his head into your palm.

You nodded, pulling him in for a small peck on his lips. You got up from the bed, grabbing his plate and handing it to him. He gave you a small smile, looking at his repainted nails.

“Good. I’m only cold towards everyone that isn’t you, because you’re like my sun.”

💌: here’s a little something to hold you guys over before i go to work hehe. i had this in my drafts for a while my b..

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[neeeooon]

Hii!! Could I request Hiori, Ness + whoever else with an s/o who avoids letting them meet their parents because they have a strained relationship with them?

sorry for the wait 🤍🤍

when you have a strained relationship with your parents

bf bllk x gn!reader. angst, cursing in rin’s (used once)

hiori yo

-> you didn’t want hiori to meet your parents, but it wasn’t only for selfish reasons. you knew he had a difficult relationship with his parents as well, and you didn’t want your family to set him off or cause him any unnecessary problems

-> when he mentions meeting your parents, you get so anxious you actually throw up. “okay, no parent talk,” he tries to get you to smile after calming you down, and you huff a disheartened laugh in return. “no, please. they’re a lot. too much.”

-> he can relate. you know he can, but there isn’t any need for a game of “whose relationship with their parents is more strained,” so you happily keep your promise and focus your efforts on each other instead of worrying about your parents

alexis ness

-> you could tell that ness really wanted a good relationship with his family, and sucked that he didn’t have that. you wished so badly that your family could be that for him, but yours weren’t any better. it’s why you change the topic any time your parents come up

-> “they’re like mine, right?” ness quietly asked after you avoided talking about your parents again. you reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “i don’t need them. i have you, and you have me.”

-> ness’s heart swells. “yeah. we don’t need them. we have each other!” “exactly. we don’t need anybody else… maybe a cat one day.” “you just read my mind.”

chigiri hyoma

-> you absolutely love chigiri’s sister and mom, but you can never stand to be with them for too long. it’s painful, knowing your parents will never like or support you the way his family supports him

-> when he brings it up one day, you can’t help but tense up. “so, when can i meet your parents?” “um.. i don’t know. they’re really busy…”

-> he takes your avoidance and discomfort as a problem with himself. “do they have an issue with guys who wear their hair long or something?” you panic. “no, no! i mean, i don’t know how they feel about that sort of stuff, but i love your hair.” “then why can’t i meet them?” “it’s not you. it’s.. them. me. i don’t know. our relationship isn’t like the one you have with your mom.”

-> you tell him a story from your past with your parents, and he drops it. “if it’s any consolation, my family loves you. they’ll gladly be there for you in all ways that matter if you want.” “maybe one day. i think that’d be nice.”

shidou ryusei

-> shidou doesn’t talk about his family and doesn’t ever push you to talk about yours in return. you don’t have to say anything for him to know that your relationship with your parents is strained

-> you decide to sit with him one day to discuss it. “is me introducing you to my parents something important to you? like, do you care about that sort of thing?”

-> “no. i don’t want to meet anyone you don’t want or feel comfortable with me meeting. and honestly, i’d prefer to keep you as far away from my family as possible, if that’s okay with you..” it is, 100%

-> “then that’s it,” you settle with a smile. “no family talk. just you and me.” “you and me. i like the sound of that.”

itoshi rin

-> when you were still hesitant to talk about ever introducing rin to your parents, even after he told you about his relationship with his brother, rin realized just how strained your relationship

-> “y/n, if… i mean, i don’t really… if you don’t want to be around your family, i don’t want to meet them.” his words shock you a bit, but the relief you feel after is so immense it almost brings tears to your eyes

-> “that doesn’t bother you? that my side is all fucked up?” “you aren’t your parents. they made you, but you shaped yourself. i think.. you did a decent job..” “was that a compliment?” “.. shut up <3” “<3”

[alicethenobody]

Thinking about how fucking ridiculously kind Dante is.

Trish lured him to Mallet Island through manipulation which lead to him “killing” (we know Vergil survived but he didn’t) his brother but he still forgave her and offered her his kindness, empathy, and even trust and friendship. His kindness impacted Trish so much she was able to become her own person outside of Mundus’ influence. Speaking of helping people change for the better, in DMC X he fights Credo and even though this guy is out for his blood he only wants to help him change his ways and manages to convince him to do the right thing. Which I think is what lead to him protecting Nero in his last moments. The canonicity of DMC X isn’t stated but considering the fact that we know Dante was originally supposed to have a longer campaign I can’t help but think a lot of the stuff in that game is remnants of those scrapped ideas.

He very openly felt bad for Griffon when Mundus killed him despite the fact that he’s loyal to the guy who killed his family and even gave him a respectful sendoff in DMC5. Generally he’s known for roasting his opponents but he still has a level of respect for them which I think is cool. In the first novel he even laments about the people who had to die on his missions, as he despises unnecessary bloodshed even if it involves bad people and popularized showing mercy among the other mercs in the business.

In the anime he often takes on jobs for free out of the kindness of his heart and is happy just being able to help people who need it even if he’s broke. Most of the money he DOES get goes to victims of demon attacks like Grue’s daughters and Enzo who lost his arm because he feels immense guilt for not being able to do what he feels like is enough for them.

He’s shown to be very protective of the younger generation through Patty and does everything he can to shield her from seeing him fight demons because he doesn’t want her to be traumatized like he was at a young age. He does the same thing with Nero, really, trying to keep him from fighting Vergil because he believes the result will either be his nephew getting hurt or him killing his own dad and having to live with that trauma like he did after he thought he killed Vergil. The way he looks at Nero and Kyrie fondly at the end of DMC4 before leaving Fortuna, he was willing to do whatever it took in order for Nero to keep that happy life with her. (Side note, Dante grew attached to Patty like, immediately. 15 minutes in he’s like “WHERES MY DAUGHTER?!” He’s so silly like that.)

It’s nice to see Nero is following in Dante’s footsteps too. In an interview it was stated Nero only really stepped into action in DMC4 because he wanted to protect Kyrie but in DMC5 we see a much more mature Nero who cares about civilians too, my favorite example being how he offered a total stranger food because he assumed he was just hungry. Dante in DMC3 was in a somewhat similar situation, though he was obviously a lot more selfish starting off than Nero ever was until he matured by the end of the game and took on the role of humanity’s protector like Sparda. It was his journey of “waking up to justice” like his dad.

Uhh… yap over. I typed this at 3 AM.

[sulfursmells]

Dream Job

pppprrtttttttt oh kinda small, BBRRRPPPTTTT kinda heavy, PRRRBBBTTTTTTTT whew that’s a good one.

Every sound, every smell I’ve experienced them all. Everyday I get up shower and go to work. What is my job you ask? I’m a fart sniffer. I know the job that most of us would die to have, and I love every second of it.

Pro max gym is the first of its kind, anyone working out is free to rent a fart sniffer to save themselves the embarrassment of ripping on in the gym. It also helps the other gym goers not having to deal with the smell. It’s an amazing job i almost lost because one dude was too much for me.

A regular day like any other I look at my list and there is only one name he rented me for the whole day, Jack. He walked in standing 6ft, a big guy with an even bigger butt. I introduced myself and we got to work. He started with squats but he gave me a warning, “my friends call me Jack the Ripper, are you sure you can do this?” I reassured him that I was a professional. Jack shrugged his shoulders and began, each squat u got a face full of his ass. He just began but the sweat was immense, I had to hold my breath like I was swimming each time.

Then the first fart slipped it was small but pungent. “Oh is that all I can handle that.”I thought to myself, small bursts like this are no problem. Then the next came it was bigger than the last PPRRRTTTT. Oh okay that was definitely bigger but nothing I couldn’t handle. Then even bigger. PPPPPPRRRRTTTTTTT. *coughing* What the hell was that? I don’t even remember the last time a fart made me cough and I’ve hugged thousands.

Jack paused his workout for a second to look back at me. “Wow you really can take them I don’t smell a thing. Guess I can stop holding back.” He turns back around his ass looking over me. “Holding back!!!!” Before I could react his ass slams on my face. He moved on from squats to barbell lifts so he doesn’t have to get up. “This would probably be hot asf if I wasn’t horrified about how much worse his gas could become.” I didn’t have to wait as the next fart was the worst I’ve ever smelt.

BBBBRRRRPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT. The smell of Burnt rubber and raw sewage invaded my senses. I convulced under him that fart too much for me. Jack didn’t care he asked if I could handle it and I said yes. BBBBBRRPPPPTPTTTTTTTTT That sound filled the gym - for two hours this monster let rip giant horrid farts rattling the chair I was laying on. The fumes made their way throughout the gym, no one could take his gas. After his set he got up, my unconscious body laying in the bench. He took me outside with him the gym vacant.

When I came too I saw my manager in front of me asking if I’m okay. He told me that he thought about firing me since he thought I was loosing my touch since everyone could hear and smell jacks gas but he realized that his gas was inhuman and there was nothing no one could do.

“Sorry little dude, they call me Jack the ripper for a reason.

[identityua]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

BAKING WITH IDV CHARACTERS

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PAIRINGS: Norton Campbell, Luca Balsa, Victor Grantz & Melly Plinius x GN! Reader (separately)

WARNINGS: Mentions of Norton going through stuff in his lore, Luca’s “fun” time in prison... that's about it.

Send in requests and submissions, It gets boring during breaks in uni:,)

N. CAMPBELL

As seen from the breakfast scene with a rightfully baffled Journalist -- whole grain bread for him is a delicacy. Safe to assume Norton is not just a peasant, he is dirt poor. So poor in fact, he wouldn't be able to afford a popular at the time drink called "Saloop" not even with a tea bag found in the trash pile. That drink can be made even by street beggars, by the way.

Keeping that in mind there is no way he knows how to go about it and what to do. Cooking? That's a different topic. Norton had to take care of his sick family while breaking his back with exploitative labour in the mines. He's got the emergency level of skill for preparing a stew.

Despite the era-specific sexism, he wouldn't be the one for writing kitchen-related work off as "not a man's job". He may be insecure but Norton is not a jerk... at least not in that way. That said, baking is definitely something he sees as an activity for the privileged. Read as anyone with a spare penny in their pocket.

Don't overwhelm him with something fancy like a cheesecake or lord forbid a croquembouche. He wants to experience the rich lifestyle, for sure, but imagine introducing sugar so early on to his virgin taste buds... not a good outcome. Bread might be a good place to start.

Say, one day you approach Norton with a wonderful proposal to bake something together. "What a wonderful bonding experience for couples!" you might think, leading him by the hand into the manor's well equipped kitchen.

Wrong.

For some incomprehensible reason (trying to impress you and compensate for his inferiority complex) Norton all of a sudden decided he is Gordon Ramsay. With a whisk in hand (holding it upside down) and a determined look, he goes into battle. He doesn't need help, Norton never needs help. He is a provider, he's strong, what's a little baking to him?

Reassure this man for the mental health of all the kitchen staff to put the eggs down and to let you help out. He might scoff, argue, complain -- don't take it personally. Norton is a complicated guy though I am sure you know that by now. He does too. Emotional intelligence is not really in the cards here (try to develop some by breathing in coal dust since you were a kid) so he can’t put a finger why he is so upset.

He wants to be vulnerable with you, sure, but there is a blockage. Call it disorganised attachment, inability to regulate emotions, trust issues – whatever it is, it is there. Norton knows he is an inadequate partner and is set on the idea that you deserve better. You’ll need an immense amount of patience even with small tasks like these (hey, you chose this battle not me), however the reward is worth it. A glimpse into a playful man you fell in love with – who smears flour on your nose while you are distracted.

Now, Norton wholeheartedly believes he is someone for tough love. Kisses, hugs, cuddles – that’s all for the “sleazy gentlemen” not a seasoned miner like him. Don’t remind him of the way he curls up by your side like a cat with the mirthiest of grins the moment It’s lights-out in the manor. Norton’s got a reputation to uphold. He tries to convince himself of that by not really providing much closeness during your baking session, other than an occasional ruffle of your hair or a shoulder bump.

Oh how quickly things change If someone else walks in. Anyone is a rival in his eyes. Your friend wanted to greet you and give you a sweet hug? Excuse him, your man’s got a sudden velcro strap attached between you and him. One of the most jealous people on Earth because of his insecurities, so he feels the immediate need to establish his dominance here. How? Nasty glances in the intruder’s direction and pulling you into an impromptu make out session. That’s how he saw his coworkers treat their partners so he assumes this must be the way.

Maybe set some boundaries about that. Or not. I don’t know what you are into…

It might take longer than usual (your lips might be bruise as well) but the two of you will end up baking a nice, fluffy loaf of bread. He will claim that “Of course It’s great, I made it after all!” but somewhere deep inside his chest is squeezing with affection. Norton is not stupid, he can read between the lines and figure out that you know of his weaknesses. Usually, that thought would keep him up at night and gnaw at him until he pushed you far away. So far you would never see him the same way those “coworkers” did when beating the money out of his clenched fists.

However doing something so simple and new with you without judgement – It’s about the only kind of love he can stomach. Pun intended. He’ll eat like half of the bread with no bev, please make sure he doesn’t choke.

L. BALSA

My knowledge of him is minimal but I’ll take a crack at this.

Unlike Campbell, this one grew up in wealth. Fancy balls with those puffy gowns and tuxedos, golden leafed ice cream, all the lovely things that come from an obscene amount of pretty banknotes. You’d think your sweet Luca would surely know how to make some scones? Now why would you ever think that. Of course he doesn’t.

Three causes: he never lifted a finger to cook for himself, he is a man in the Renaissance period(I think) and he simply forgot how to. Memory loss does that. The triple knockout to your proposition. No, thank you, Balsa would rather stick to his inventions. After all, he is utterly and completely obsessed with the technology he builds.

At times like this, you start to think he doesn’t truly care for you at all. What’s the point of trying If some metal bits come before you? Stop, take a breath, and reconsider. Remember the times he would writhe on your shared bed in agony due to his traumatic brain injury. Recall the way Luca would grasp onto you in these vulnerable moments. Just think, would he show the weakest side of himself to you If there wasn’t a deep connection between the two of you?

Unfortunately, you cannot expect a “normal” relationship with this guy. But again, you did sign up for this. So, expect him not to even acknowledge you for the first time you ask to bake together. He is completely entranced with the wires in front of him, fixated on the electricity currents. Sure, Luca will be grumpy when you interrupt his “flow” to ask again but truthfully – It is hard for Balsa to stay mad at you. He will reject like I said beforehand, however here’s the twist.

This little genius will never reject the notion of spending time with you. His love language may be physical touch, words of affirmation, but quality time takes the cake. Pun intended. After spending so much time wrongfully (?) imprisoned, he craves human connection. Human connection that doesn’t involve him being tortured by either the guards or other inmates. Balsa is also terrified of betrayal so he wants to be beside you 24/7. Just in case.

Being at the manor is stressful and traumatic for all participants, so his coping mechanism is to drown in work. Forgive him for that, Luca loves you for all you do and your unwavering support. Therefore, he will propose a diplomatic compromise. You get to bake while he sits at the kitchen table and tinkers with some new device. Deal?

Go ahead and mix the ingridients with your leg propped over his, Luca will appreciate it wholeheartedly. Unfortunately no holding hands before marriage, or simply because it would get in the way of his and your working space. Sure, maybe you don’t get to cuddle by the stove like they do in romantic novellas. But isn’t this so much better, because it is uniquely your lover?

While the pastries bake take a moment to cradle the side of the “Prisoner’s” face in your flour-powered hand. Gently run your thumb over his cheekbone. He will subconsciously lean into your touch without missing a beat. That is just how much Luca Balsa trusts you – his partner. After everything he’s gone through It’s an indicator as bright as a red stop light of the depth of this inventor’s feelings. He doesn’t exactly state it out loud in favour of letting you know that “everyone wants a piece of this handsome genius”. However, It’s obvious to anyone else that you are his sole anchor and reason to live.

You remind him to eat, take a breather, bring him relaxing tea just the way he likes it. You ground him when Luca’s hands shake from the painful memories of the past, you hold him, you console him. In return? He will keep on working, playing this hellish game and at a whim will relocate all of his heavy equipment across the manor to the kitchen – If it means you are happy. Balsa is a dreamer, and he dreams of a future where you are together in your own house, baking in the kitchen with all the fancy equipment you might ever need. Made by him, of course.

Over freshly baked sweets and a cup of tea, your lover will share all of his ambitious ideas running through his mind. He will also take note of the taste in his mouth and urge you to write down the recipe on some paper for him. Why, you might ask? A reminder of the future he wants to build with you to keep in a diary, since it has proven to be much more reliable than his own mind. Luca is dedicated to you just as much as he is to scientific discoveries after all.

V. GRANTZ

Holy yap incoming! This one is my favourite man from the survivor faction.

Can Victor cook? Silly question. Having spent most of his adolescence without much parental support or much human contact – he is highly independent. The Postman is responsible to a T, capable of performing all the housework necessary for survival. Can your lover bake? That’s a different topic in Its entirety.

From his deduction letter It is known that he shares his meals with Wick. Therefore, Victor’s food must be something that a dog can digest. Carbs and starchy foods are not ideal for his little carnivorous friend which leads us to the conclusion that baking is not your partner’s forte.

Out of all characters in this post – he is the hardest to get through to. Come on, Victor is as talkative as a wooden plank. You thought Norton was avoidant? Think again, mister postman here will fight tooth and nail to keep people away from him. So, what happens when you through sheer patience and understanding manage to become his friend? And later on, Victor’s partner? He will never say no to you.

Bake together? For the love of everything, Victor would run into a burning building after you. That’s just who he is – utterly self sacrificing and endlessly brave. The point is, it doesn’t matter what Grantz was doing before you approached him with the wonderful proposition to bake. He will drop everything and promptly nod, following you with Wick at his heel to the kitchen.

Choose a recipe that is dog-friendly beforehand. It would make both of your boys happy. Did I mention that you became Wick’s co-parent the moment his human friend opened up his heart to you? Now you know.

Make sure to properly compliment your postman every time he does something well, like mixing the wet ingredients together at just the perfect speed. Watch as warmth blossoms across his face and your partner faintly nods, muttering a “thank you” with the brightest of smiles. His love language is without a doubt words of affirmation, considering how much linguistics matter to him.

With anyone else, he would take face-to-face conversations with a massive brick of salt. Victor doesn’t trust people not to conceal their intentions, only ever being truthful in letters. With you, It’s different. He knows your pattern of speech does not differ from your writing abilities. You wouldn’t lie to your love, would you? So Grantz has no reason to doubt your praises even If he feels undeserving of them.

Much more playful than others in the manor give him credit for. Victor is not “shy” he is simply reserved and prefers to keep to himself unless in trusted company. He literally voices his dog’s side of the “conversation” don’t be quick to assume your partner can’t have fun. Prepare for harmless tickles and nose flicks, this guy is sweeter than the pastries you two are preparing.

Unfortunately this vulnerability is only available for you to see. The moment someone else enters the kitchen, Victor is social distancing and keeping his eyes down on the baking tray. He’ll let you handle the talking part, occasionally sharing looks with Wick as If saying “Can you believe this?”. He’ll get a “woof” in response from his four-legged friend, which is up to interpretation.

Don’t let your gaze linger a beat too long on the person (without reassuring Victor afterwards) otherwise his train of thought is actively de-railing. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, of course not, your sweet postman just… thinks you can do better than him. So many options out there for someone as wonderful as you, why stick around him? That’s it, time for Grantz to overthink.

In no way would he pull you away from the conversation, at least not the same way Norton would. As your lover, he respects your decisions and relationships. Just don’t mind the slow slide towards your side of the table and the hand lingering over your fingertips. Squeeze his hand back, and we’re all good, you can carry on.

Regardless of whether someone interrupts your baking session or not, It is an incredibly enjoyable experience. The recipe will be followed to a T, you can count on your partner to take on that responsibility. If you pay close attention, you’ll notice how Victor attempts to plate the “worst” ones for himself. The pastries with uneven edges or a burnt bottom cannot be offered to you in his good conscience.

Make sure those are evenly split between the two of you, feeding your protesting lover a perfectly done piece. The postman will be so flustered at the gesture of you feeding him in public, he’ll forget completely what he was protesting about in the first place.

M. PLINIUS

This one right here. She is the perfect choice for baking together. I don’t know how you managed to bag someone as incredible as Melly but props to you.

Having grown up in poverty and later on married into wealth, she knows how to do it all. Cooking, cleaning, reading, baking – you name it, Miss Melly can probably do it. She has a slight preference for sweets as well, considering her breakfast choices and the fact that she keeps bees. Entomology is quite rewarding when you get to snack on honey from your test subjects.

I imagine It’s quite easy to find your lover busying herself in the manor’s greenhouse, slouched over another specimen of… whatever she is studying. Your proposal brings an immediate quirk to her lips which curl upwards in sheer delight. Melly is quick to offer some freshly collected honey as a healthier alternative to sugar. Of course, your heath is her priority, but getting to show off the efforts of her bees is a nice bonus.

She doesn’t necessarily rush to the oven though, unlike a certain postman… no. Melly has to finish up her tasks and tidy her working space first. Offer some help to make the time go by faster! She’ll be appreciative of your thoughtfulness and follow you to the kitchen – elbows interlocked.

Record-fast preparation for your batch of goods. She’s efficient, adaptable and co-operates well with your actions. Out of everyone mentioned in this post, a relationship with her is the healthiest – and it shows. You two are in-sync with each other, practically gliding across the kitchen like two swans on a pond’s surface. You do know swans bond for life, right?

Miss Entomologist is the epitome of elegance in everything: from thoughtfully brushing your hair out of the way – to whisking the egg whites to reach a perfect fluffy consistency. It’s not hard to tell how much she adores you, her love, her little bug. While reserved, she does not shy away from showcasing affection towards you. Expect the unexpected wrap of her arms around your waist as she whispers compliments through her veil. Don’t spill the batter now!

Quality time and acts of service are her strong suit when it comes to loving, so baking is the perfect way to showcase affection. She is understandably disappointed If someone was to interrupt your bonding time and snatch you away for a chat. It’s hard to notice, but you know her – the slightest tug of her lips downwards. You can only guess the look in her eyes under that veil, that only you ever get to see. Those are the fruits of Melly’s trust you get to reap.

Don’t take it the wrong way, she isn’t jealous in the slightest of your interaction. No, this lady is secure in her attachment and her trust in her lover. Does she appreciate that you cannot decorate the scones along with her because someone was itching to talk? That’s a different question.

If this certain someone was taking way too long than appropriate, then, she would gracefully insert herself in the conversation and ask them to leave. Politely, of course. This woman has a way with words and it is attractive to no end.

Once the delicious treat is served, settle into the secluded garden chairs along with her and a cup of steaming tea. She would spot a butterfly on top of a chrysanthemum and erupt into a passionate rant about this specific one’s traits. The lifespan, the importance to the environment. Please, make sure you listen carefully to this monologue. In moments like these your lover’s soul is bare to the touch. Handle it well.

Melly conceals her face specifically because she wants to be perceived for her intelligence – not her (stunning) appearance. However here, in the manor’s garden along with her most precious beloved, a honeyed scone in hand… it is no grave matter If her veils is lifted by the wind. She won’t rush to pin it down. Instead, you will get to see a sight reserved only for you – Melly’s affectionate eyes. Crinkled at the corners in a sincere smile, a smile that should be appreciated with the earnest of kisses from you.

Not really proofread! If you spot mistakes… oh well.

[sanzaibian]

Hiii! Im a scrawny white guy that just moved out into a new neibourhood that is strangely filled with fuckboys and my parents want me to cut my long curly hair to fit in. They want me to have a buzz cut or an undercut. Do you know someone who can help me?

“Welcome to the normal barbershop ! I… see you’re accompanied.”

Indeed, when you enter, the severe face of your mother is revealed behind your shoulder. She seems dead set on having a say in whatever you’re going to do, no matter how uncomfortable you look. You know that, as you’re a few years into university, you should really, like all your friends find yourself flat or flatmates, yet the only ones who would qualify are all related by blood. However, with the sky-high price for property, inflation eating into everyone’s pockets, and uni being just an hour away from home… the choice is obvious.

Even if it feels a bit constraining to have your quite controlling parents breathing down your neck.

“I…” You start, before being cut by your mother. - My son here needs an appropriate haircut. This… clump he caries around has to go.”

It is clear for everyone in the room that she wants you to have a haircut, not you… and that she seems dead set on you cozying up to the upper echelons of society. Not an objectionable dream, but not one she should force onto her kid. This malaise that grows out of it is broken by the arrival of a tall but thin guy, dressed in all white polos and chinos, wearing an expensive golden watch, luxurious black sunglasses and a single stylish golden earring. His jet black hair is parted in the middle in a tasteful style stinking of money – and hairspray – accompanying slightly folded amber eyes that frame a very handsome face.

“Greetings, miss.” He announced rather dramatically, smiling in a manner that would swoon anybody. “Don’t worry, I, Jonathan Nasukawa, heir to the famous Shimotsuke family, from the Uesugi clan, and to the de Clissons family, who studied under the famous master barber Dr. Davod, will take care of your son. I’ll make sure he’s… up to my standards.”

You are not impressed. In fact, you’re more weary of whatever bullying he may decide to make about your lack of self-care, or your lower social class… but your mother is comfortably taken by the smile of that certified ikemen. Her severe expression morphs into one of the most benevolent smiles that a human can make, and pushes you to him by your shoulders.

“My son will be more than honored to be able to be helped by all your expertise. I’m sure that, once he knows how to properly act, he will thank you for the immense service you are giving him.”

The ikemen’s smile becomes sinister, somehow… though your mother stays just as smitten by his through the roof charisma.

“Rest assured, he will.” His smiles becomes normal once again, as he places a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you may, I have some work to do. - Well, I wouldn’t want to prevent you from doing your job… I just so happen to have a few things to buy, so I’ll get to this now !”

As the exchange devolves into civilities, you start advancing to the barber chairs, where you guess your mane that you actually really like is going to get chopped off. What a waste, you love the feeling of long hair, how it floats, how freely you can shape it. But before you can take a step closer, you are stopped by a soft hand on your shoulder. Expecting it to be your mother, you put your hand on it and turn around… only to notice it was Jonathan. The barber.

“I was going to say that we are not going there, but… are you trying something ?”

You vehemently deny, red appearing on all your face, making him laugh very elegantly.

“Hahaha ! Your expressions are so precious ! No, we’re going inside that special room, with the elite setup, for maximum comfort !” You stare at him, unsure of why he’s trying to do by playing into your mom’s delusions. “What, it’s comfortable for me too ! And it’s topical !”

You smile from that defense that paints an image quite different from the one he casts, that more of a laid-back and less… arrogant than the uptight and quick to point out ancestry he seemed to your mother. He makes you sit on the chair inside the private room, that feels incredibly comfortable, as he takes out multiple products, clippers and scissors.

“I’m sorry your mother made such a scene… I mean, we’re supposed to be the one uncomfortable, but you must have been so ashamed hearing her spouting nonsense like that.” Of that you agree. « Now, before you start making up ideas, I’m not a noble or anything. I just said that to impress her, because I know it works – I’m sure she would faint if she knew I lived in a small flat with three roommates to save money ! Though the lineage is correct, it doesn’t come with fortune, unfortunately.”

He speaks so much that you have a hard time saying anything. And in the time he took to explain every part of his trick, he washed your hair and put in some weird lotion. How industrious he is, expertly manipulating your hair while not stopping one second from talking… Although his claims to famous families were bogus, his claims to skill were visibly warranted.

“Now, let me talk about what I’m going to do. See, I’d like to keep your hair. It’s nice and long, and I’d likely trim it a little and find some ways to dress it so that you can have a good cut that will sway even the straightest of guys and the gayest of girls. « However… due to the whole situation, I have to give you a shorter cut. See, I know her type. She wouldn’t find anything but that a proper men’s cut. But don’t worry, I have here everything necessary to make you own that short cut.”

And as he said all of that, he used scissors to cut down most of the length, the locks falling one after another, in a shower of hair. Although you feel very hurt by this development, you can’t stay mad too long with him overwhelming your brain with words… Actually, is that a strategy he’s using ? As if he was-

“So the recipe for a short cut in the current trends is the curly undercut. Thankfully your hair is already curly, so I won’t have to change much, but there are some details that I’ll still have to fix. « But right now, I’m concentrating on the most important : the shape. Now that most of the mass has been dealt with, I’m shaping it so we can find the modern shape we’re trying to achieve. Now, you may think that looking like a mushroom is cringe… and to be honest, you’re right, but it’s only cringe if you of think it as much.”

God, he was so fast ! He drew the clippers, put a short guard, and tore through the sides of your hair, leaving only short fur ! And he even had the time to make the short part two-tone, with it being a smidge longer when connecting with the top of the hair ! He really is gifted ! But as he did that, what he told you about cringe kept on making rounds in your head. Although it feels almost wrong, like an incorrect leap of logic… you couldn’t find how. You could only find more ways in which it was correct.

If you’re the one to wear such a cringy haircut… should you be revising your stance on it ? It’s not as if you could get rid of it that easily… And looking at how much expertise Jonathan puts in cutting your hair… should you even ? Should you not accept that it’s your hair, and be… proud of it ? Of having your hair cut by such a gifted barber, who chose such a hot and trendy cut ? That thought feels weird… kind of… intoxicating. Like it’s opening a door that should not have been open, making you feel hotter than ever.

Because you decide that you are hot.

“And then, I just have to cut down the top to an acceptable volume ! See, it’s all about volume, about looking big and fluffy. It’s a pain to style – believe me – but it’s worth it, because it’s such a show off. « You know, you have a great nature of hair, you should absolutely not spit on that. Many people use chemicals to get a result resembling your hair, yet you have it naturally ! What better thing to show off !”

On that time, he switched to scissors and has cut the top of your air so it only kinda looks like a mushroom. Now, everything fits together… and it makes you feel so much hotter. It’s not cringe, you’re just hot, and you love it. But your brains latches on how high-effort this whole style is, and how great your hair is… Sure, you know that you check out a lot of guys who have great muscles, handsome faces, and generous crotches, but you never thought of that concept applied to you.

You never felt like you had anything much to be proud of, in your body, but seeing how he praises your hair, how many guys want to have hair just like yours… it makes something click for you. You do have something to be proud of. And it’s something others should get to enjoy. So why not use these high-effort techniques ? Why not put in work ? And what then would be wrong to get feedback for this work ?

It all feels so intoxicating… It feels so wrong… But it’s so good, so attractive, and it makes you so, so, sooo happy. So why stop ? Somehow the thought of annoying others by showing off just… doesn’t compute anymore. You’re happy showing others, they should be happy seeing what you’re good at.

“Now, please lie down in this machine. I know I said that your hair had a great nature and didn’t need to have any chemicals to get it like that… it doesn’t mean that it is well-taken care of.

« Thankfully, thanks to the product I put in your hair and the machine here, it should be looking good as new ! Don’t worry if it feels a bit weird at first, everyone gets surprised by it !”

As soon as you lie down in the machine, he activates it and goes out of the small room. You are left under the big… thing ? rectangle ? You can’t actually describe it much, it’s just weird. But it hums, and it feels quite warm… almost as if it was frying something. You don’t know, your head is just empty at the moment.

Suddenly, you feel your arms twitch. Then your torso. Then your core, and your legs, and the rest of you body. Thousands of small pricks invade your body as what was just a weird occurrence becomes something very uncomfortable. Your muscles are all twitching, all aching as if they were suffering from over-exertion. You don’t quite know why, and you would like to know why, but your head refuses to think of any answer, as it feels like it is absolutely frying inside the warmth of the machine.

You hear through all the noises of the machine the sound of tears, but don’t make much of it, as the rest of the sensations were invading you. Everything feels uncomfortable. You want to be out of this machine as fast as possible. But simply leaving the underside of the rectangle never occurres as a possibility in your embattled brain.

No, only bips from the machine, signaling it was turned off, broke your frying brain from utter nothingness.

You look around, seeing the tatters of your clothes on you. You think a little, when you realize that you should probably take them off. But then, the subsequent problem arose : how to cover your muscular body. Thankfully, when standing up, you see a collection of luxury boxers, fine jogging pants, a puka shells necklace and a black iPhone. You put them on, finding them to meet your standards, when suddenly, you see a mirror. Not the one in front of the barber chair, another.

Were you always blonde ? You can’t really remember, but… it’s the perfect position to take a selfie, isn’t it ? So you open the phone, enter your code, and move it up and down until you get the lighting perfect. Then, you take it.

Perfection.

Its very definition.

You look so hot, everyone’s gonna fall to their knees.

And when you leave the private room, opting for a heavy gait to show off your ripped muscles better, you notice your mom, who looks half-proud, half-horrified at you. But you don’t really care for her, what you really care about is all the people staring at you, checking you out. Even Jonathan Nasukawa, that ikemen, hyper-hot guy who cut your hair, looks at you proudly.

And as you rock your few remaining braincells to find somewhere you can show off better, you can only find one appropriate place to go.

“Yo, ma.” You hail your mother, who is very shocked at how you suddenly speak to her. “I have to go to the club, so let me leave the car before coming home.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: Wednesday already, my dudes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"Sir, I have to go to her," you yank your arm, trying to escape Nick's grasp.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He hisses as he drags you up the metal stairs. His other hand fishes around in his pocket. 

Your heels catch and you stumble up behind him. He doesn't relent. He's taking the stairs two at a time as you struggle to keep upright. Your heart is racing, your head spinning, as Joey's cries stick in your ears.

"Hansen, yeah, Fowler," he holds his phone to his cheek. "Yeah, shut up, I don't got time for that. Hey, hey, you owe me so listen. I need you to send someone out for me. Right now. Shit," he stops at the top of the stairs by a heavy metal door. 

He faces you as his hand falls from your wrist. He slides out a card and taps it on the pad next to the frame. The lock beeps. He pushes down the handle and nods you through.

"Hey, sweetheart," he follows you out into the night air, "what's the bastard's name?"

"Uh," you spin as the air whips around you and hug yourself. "Barber. Andy Barber. He's--"

"Got that. Barber." He says into the phone, then follows with the exact city where Joey is studying. You falter as he hangs up.

"Nick, sir," you near him, "how do you know where she is?"

"It's part of my job," he dials out as he speaks flatly. "We don't got time for this."

"I-- I know," you babble. Your chest twists as your hands shake around your own phone. The line was muffled minutes ago.

"Yeah, need to go. Get someone up here," He demands into the phone. He shakes his head and puts his phone away.

Your teeth chatter as you stand on the roof tarmac, arms curled around you as you gnash your teeth against the altitude. Your eyes wander to the aircraft in the painted circles. You gulp.

"It's cold," Nick says and startles you as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders.

"Oh, uh, thanks," you glance at him and pick at your sleeve.

"I got someone headed her way. A whole squad, alright?"

Your brow knits as you eye him warily.

"I know people," he steps closer and stretches his arm over your shoulders. "Trust me when I say the creep isn't going to get away with it. I'll even let you have a go before I dislocate his jaw."

"Nick," you scold.

"Don't tell me you don't wanna hit the guy. Even you," he growls.

You touch his cuff as his hand hangs off your shoulder, "I don't like violence."

"Hm, always the peacekeeper," he chides 

You're silent. Impatient. You chew your lip, forgetting the gloss painted over it.

"So... is that what happened? The old man was... attacked?" He asks.

You flinch, "what?"

"Your husband. That's who you went to see today--"

"It's not...important right now."

"You never mentioned. Just like the kid." He sniffs.

"It's my life," you shift and draw away from his arm. You sigh, "cancer. It just ate away at him. That's it. Nothing spectacular."

He sucks his teeth, "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"No need for that. He's at peace. Let's not wake him."

He exhales. The door swings open and cracks the brittle tension.

"About time," Nick snips. "Come on."

You turn as a man in aerial gear marches across the roof. Nick beckons to you. You follow him to a helicopter near the edge.

He helps you in first. He climbs up behind you and checks that you're strapped in before putting a large headset over your ears. His hands linger on them as his eyes meet yours. He nods before he drops into the seat next to you.

The pilot flicks switches and you brace the edge of the seat. You've never been in one of these things. You push against the back rest and clench your jaw.

"You hear me?" Nick's voice sounds in the headset.

You peek over and nod, gulping tightly. He tilts his head, "won't be long." He reaches over and peels your grip from the seat. He holds your hand in his. "Help's already there. Waiting on us."

Your eyes glisten as the propeller spins and the whole compartment quakes. You frown and look ahead. All you can do is trust him. All you can do is hope that Joey's okay.

Why didn't you answer earlier? Why were you so concerned with yourself? It's your fault. All your fault. 

You turn your hand and clasp onto Nick's without thinking. You squeeze and hang your head. You just want her to be safe. That's what you promised.

🔷

The quick car ride isn't fast enough. You don't even bother with your seat belt. As the car brakes before the building with the sign Barber and Associates, you're already opening the door. You search around the building. There aren't any cop cars...

You trip over the curb as Nick calls your name. He catches you before you can crash to your knees. You huff and pull away from him, lifting each foot to shed your heels. You clamour across the sidewalk as he follows.

He opens the door for you and you sprint through. You can't focus as you search for the floor number on the sign. He finds it first. "Third."

You flit onward and slam your fingers into the elevator button. He stands beside you calmly, "she's fine."

"No, she needs me, Nick," you hiss as the doors open and you hurry inside. "You said you had people on their way. Where are the cops?"

"I didn't say they were cops," he hits the three button before you can. He grips your arm firmly, "I'm telling you to calm down. Your daughter doesn't need you like that."

You blanch and look at him, then at your reflection in the doors. He's right. Joey doesn't need you panicking. You take a deep breath and steady yourself.

The doors open and you stride out. Men in black stand right outside the open door with the golden letters etched in the wood. Nick keeps pace with you and approaches.

"Hansen?" He asks.

"Sent us," one of the men confirms. Nick nods and struts through the door. You trail after him.

You peer around him, your chest pounding, and you see Joey drinking from a bottle of water as she sits on a leather chair. More men stand near another door, this one shut. 

You rush to her with arms open, dropping your shoes behind you. "Josephine."

She squeezes the bottle and quickly puts it aside. She stands to meet you as you scoop her into a hug and lock her in as tight as you can. She embraces you just a desperately.

"Baby, are you okay?" You rasp. "Please, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

You rock her and she gently pulls back to look you in the face. Her eyes are glossy. She nods.

"They... stopped him." She peers over your shoulder at the men. "How..." she flicks her lashes and looks at you, "mom, who are they?"

You keep one arm around her and turn around to face Nick. He watches placidly. He bows his chin slightly.

"His friends. My boss," you gesture to him. "I'm so sorry," you turn to her again, "I was at a work thing and I--"

"A work thing?" She eyes you up and down and squints, "wow, mom," her eyes bulge, "you look hot."

You could laugh if you weren't still terrified. You shake your head. "Joey, really, you're okay?"

"Yeah," she exhales, "yeah, I was scared but... when they got here..."

Nick sidles past and speaks lowly with one of the men near the other door. He glances back and clears his throat, "excuse me, Josephine," he says, "do you mind if I borrow your mother for a minute?"

"Sure, uh," she looks slightly distressed as he waits by the door. "I'll... be here."

You caress her arm and leave her reluctantly. You near Nick, "she prefers Joey."

He hums but says nothing. One of the men reaches to open the door for him. He ushers you in ahead of him. You squeal as he snaps the door shut behind you.

A man sits behind the desk, his nose bloodied, a cut on the ridge. You gasp as Nick puts his hand on your back. "What's the matter? He's a fucking creep."

"Nick!" You cover your mouth as the man's wrists are cuffed to the arm rests. It's him. Barber. The man you heard.

"Wasn't us," the only other man in the room comments from behind the lawyer. "He was bloody when we showed up."

Your lips part and you look at Nick. He snickers, "your girl did all that."

"I..." you shake your head and drop your arms. "She used to box with her dad but... that's only exercise."

"Seems like he taught her something," Nick smirks.

"Oh my god," you utter and look at Barber. "You can't... what's going to happen?"

"Well, he's going to be a good boy and pay out her internship, write her a good review, and we're going to keep this little incident to ourselves," Nick walks up to the desk, "aren't we?"

He bends over to glare and Barber nods weakly.

"And if you wanna get a few licks in, I can give you two the room," Nick suggests.

"No, I told you," you murmur. "No violence."

He sniffs, unimpressed but backs up. He spins and approaches you again.

"Go. Spend the night with your daughter. Hell, spend the day. I'll send you a ticket back to town." He says.

"Sir?" You say.

"Look, you've taken care of me more times than I can count. She needs that right now. She needs that soft touch," he tucks his hands in his pockets as he faces you. "I can survive until you get back."

You nod as your skin speckles in relief. You can't help yourself as you throw your arms around him. You're just so happy that your baby is okay. He did that for you. You hug him snugly. He runs his hand up your back.

"Alright," he nudges you away with a chuckle. "Go, before I change my mind."

"Thank you, sir," you clasp your hands together, "thank you! I owe you."

His lips slant and his eyes drift down for just a moment. "I'll get you a room. I'll send the details."

"Sir," you put your hands over your chest. His cheek ticks. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Mm, don't thank me yet," he tuts. "You did cause quite the scene at my work party."

You deflate just slightly, "yeah, I'm... I'm sorry."

He nods to the door. You try to smile then turn. You hurry out of the room. Joey has your shoes in her hands as she waits.

"Baby," you latch onto her arm. "Let's get out of here."

"Mom," she leans into you. "I was so scared."

"I know, hun, I know," you usher her out of the room of dangerous men. Goosebumps rise on your skin as you're not entirely certain Nick won't do more than he says. You shake off the thought. "I'm here. I'll always be here for you."

[bambi-kinos]

“He encouraged Paul's revealed preference for enjoying feminization by putting him in the position of being John's girlfriend/wife, something John likely picked up on when Paul fed him toast as a teenager. Many of Paul's sexual habits and needs were shaped and fostered by John into something that complimented his own.”

This is such a good insight from your recent analysis and something I had sort of noticed about John and Paul but couldn’t pinpoint, which you’ve worded so wonderfully. I always thought it seemed as though John encouraged a more feminine/ domestic side to Paul which Paul might have been reluctant to express otherwise (due to Looking Like That), though I think Paul was actually very happy in more “feminine” roles. I wonder if John coaxed it out of him during their sexual encounters and then it manifested into their everyday dynamic.

It's part of John's Thing where he sees into people. No wonder he believed mind reading and ESP were real because John is incredibly good at reading people and divining their motives and intent.

I keep coming back to the toast anecdote because it's so revealing and also relatable. Feeding your boyfriend something while you try to convince him to do something he isn't sure about is very much a girlfriend tactic. I've done it myself and I bet other ladies have too. Paul instinctively knew how to maneuver John which is interesting in of itself but he also instinctively used feminine coded tactics. Contrast this to Pete Shotton who was just some guy and used the tools available to him to put John in his place: he would take swings at John and even threatened to crush his glasses at one point when John was taking a joke too far about a schoolboy crush Pete had when they were kids. John himself admired this about Pete and later said that he respected Pete immensely for standing toe to toe with him and not letting John roll him.

But Paul didn't do that. He used feminine coded tactics with John from the start, even with the guitar tuner and the conferring over strings and chords. He wasn't in your face and didn't try standing toe to toe with John, after the solo song performance of "Twenty Flight Rock" to establish his credentials he instead sat down with John and they talked. No big confrontation and no contest of wills. To quote Pete Shotton again "they circled each other like cats" so clearly there was mutual interest but Paul proved his worth by showing what an asset he was. He was never interested in blatant shows of authority. It's just such a completely different presentation than what was typical and expected from teen boys at the time...and John picked up on it.

Some of this is Paul being a more balanced person in general and also just more experienced with the reality of the world. Mary passed away and the chores of the house became more evenly split between Jim, Paul, and Mike while the aunts would visit often to take care of the heavier jobs. But it's also clear where John and Paul's personal divisions and interests lay. Paul could definitely be rambunctious and gross (like the newspaper shitting story...lmaoooo) so he did know how to be gross with the boys when he wanted to be. But there was such an intensely domestic side of him that he wanted to keep hidden from the rest of the world. It couldn't help peeking out from time to time. John remarked once that "Paul and I know each other in a lot of different ways that people don't know about" (paraphrasing) and this must have been one of the things John was referring to.

Paul valued and cherished domestic life and he doted on John when he could. I think back a lot to this excerpt from The Lyrics (hat tip to @dovetailjoints for picking up on it back in the day) about Johnny Gentle and Paul's realization that you can do anything on tour.

Like even just from this quote, the toast thing, Pau's domesticity fetish (and everything is sex for him so obviously it's kinky roleplay!) and then Paul's general behavior, you can tell something going on but then we got THIS JEWEL of a confirmation:

Paul liked being domestic and he liked taking care of John I just!!!! He wanted to be John's wife! He wanted to be Mrs. Lennon so fucking badly! God! And it must have gone exactly as you say, John encouraged it during their sex stuff and then Paul liked it so much that he did this.

[rekino2114]

Blue lock girls yelling "This one's for you!" At their male reader, their reaction when they score and their reaction if they miss

Blue lock girls scoring/missing a goal for you

A/n:OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING! You're one of my favorite writers on here and inspirations for writing so I'm so happy you requested, please feel free to keep doing it, I genuinely love your stuff so much and I hope you enjoy this

Fem!yoichi isagi

If she scores:

She's happy both because she got to score but especially because she did it for you

She immensely looks for you, no matter if you're on the field or on the stands she just smiles, maybe says a few words but doesn't linger for too long, she's only focused on scoring again after all

"How was the goal y/n? O-oh please it was nothing special, I just wanted to score a goal for you to show everyone how much I love you"

If she misses:

Her "on the field personalilty" activates, and she gets instantly angry. She was in the most perfect position and even said that it was for you so she should have scored no matter what

She somehow finds a way to blame kaiser even if he had nothing to do with it and then the goalkeeper for catching it like that's not his literal job

You have to comfort her and hear her rant later but she's determined to score the next one for you

Fem!meguru bachira

If she scores:

Immediately starts beaming and goes to sit on your shoulders even if you had nothing to do with the goal

You two start compliment the goal and flirting with each other so much that you almost forget you need to restart the game

"Y/n! Y/n! Did you see that? It was super special just for you"

"Yeah it was amazing, you're so good bachira"

"Thank youuuu, my monster is so happy hearing that"

If she misses:

Her mouth stays wide open as she watches her shot miss only to start pouting immediately after

You try to go in and comfort her but see that she's not sad at all, in fact missing just gave her even more motivation to score for you

"Don't worry babe, I'm sure you'll get it next time"

"Yep, I promise I'll score at least 2 more goals now, it's their fault I didn't get to do something sweet for my bf"

Fem!rin itoshi

If she scores:

She doesn't really have a reaction but you can see she's happy on the inside she scored so many times before but this one is special since she did it for you

You then go and hug her and she blushes but lets you do that which is more than she'd do for anyone else

"Rin that goal was so good! And you said it was for me, thank you"

"It's not like I only did it for you"

"I know but you still said it was, it made me feel special"

".......that's because you are"

"Hm? What?"

"Nothing"

If she misses:

She narrows her eyes and everyone can instantly tell she's mad even if she doesn't look that different, her aura just changed

You're kinda scared to approach her since you know she's angry but you eventually hug her and she (mostly) calms down

If she misses again she might just go destroyer mode

Fem!shidou ryusei

If she scores:

She sticks her tongue out and falls to the ground.....she feels the same as when you and her.....do it

You try to get close to her but the moment you do she pins you down and starts making out with you not caring that everyone else is watching

"S-shidou? Really now? We're on live tv"

"What's wrong with showing such a handsome guy how much I love him? Especially after that goal, fuck that felt so good"

"...........I don't know why I'm not used to this by now"

If she misses:

She's always disappointed when she misses but in this occasion especially cause she specifically said it was for you

She feels like she.....didn't get the full experience and stopped right before the moment so she has to do it again

"Tch for real? And I was so close to the climax too, well looks like we'll have to try it again, come on hot stuff, get into position"

".........can you please stop?"

Fem!seishiro nagi

If she scores:

She also doesn't react that much, every goal she makes is in a way thanks to you since you give her the motivation to play, but for some reason this time she felt like she had to say it

You two just high five and you compliment her then she goes back to her position smiling a bit because she loved seeing how happy you are

"That goal was so wonderful nagi, thanks for saying it was for me too"

"Oh its nothing, you're the reason why I'm playing in the first place"

"Seriously, you're such an amazing player"

".........thank you"

If she misses:

She's actually surprised, usually she doesn't feel that bad when she misses because she just knows she can score again but for some reason this time she's actually disappointed because she really wanted to score for you

She learned that winning feels amazing but now she found out that disappointing you feels terrible, the fire inside her burns brighter as she only wants one thing: to score for you

"Don't worry nagi, you'll get it next time"

"......hey y/n, I want to score a hat trick"

"Hm?"

"And when I do, it will be for you"

".....hehe, you're really determined"

".......I guess, it's for you"

Fem!shoei barou

If she scores:

She is proud of herself for scoring, obviously, but she doesn't think of it as anything special, as in her mind, every goal she does is dedicated to you

Whenever you hug her she hugs back and doesn't even blush while every one of her teammates is surprised at how sweet she is to you in comparison to them

"That goal you did was super cool, but I guess every goal you do is"

"Ah, thanks, but it's nothing special, I just scored that's what a striker does"

"I know but thanks for saying it was for me, I loved it"

"Hm? What do I mean? I always do that....I guess not verbally though"

If she misses:

She grits her teeth and gets actually mad, she should have scored that no matter what and she's so angry she didn't

She did this for her king, you, to show you her love and it didn't happen, she hates this and she's not letting it end like this

Even if she doesn't look that pissed to you, she spends the rest of the game trying to score again by herself (and only with your help)

Fem!Michael kaiser

If she scores:

She smiles smugly and after celebrating goes to kiss you making sure all the cameras can see you, she just loves you so much she can't help but show you off

Makes sure everyone is talking about how cool that goal was and constantly brags about it to everyone (isagi especially)

"Wasn't that wonderful schatz? And it was all for you, I love you"

If she misses:

(Insert here joke about kaiser missing the goal)

She's pissed off, to say the least. She put everything into that kick, all of her love for you and they had the audacity to block that? She's raging so hard now

She insults everyone she sees except for you (isagi and Ness especially) and you're the only one who can actually calm her down

She just spends the entire match trying everything she can to score, this is a personal humiliation to both you and her and she can't let that slide

"H-hey michelle-"

"What? Oh its you schatz, nothing I'm just...upset"

"It's fine, I know how you get, don't worry I'll help you score next time, I know you'll do it"

".....yes....I'm certain I will"

[frvnkcastles]

I'd love something where the reader used to work at The Beef from the bear show, bur had to move to NYC and met Frank, she ends up feeding him the best Beef this side of the east coast and he instantly falls in love, then she makes him the Family Spaghetti and he's like "I wanna fuckin marry her" internally? Fluff?

But the reader is very much cooking out of stress as that's how she feels she can i guess win people over to stick around?

(I was the cunt in school on wedges day where I'd shout every one in my group wedges since otherwise I think they wouldn't stick around me,I wasn't smart enough for them but I paid for food.

I still do this with my baking business)

HONEY, DON’T YOU LEAVE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You and Frank bond over your cooking, but you can’t shake the feeling that that’s all he wants from you.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, language, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: Gahhhhh, I am so annoyed that I’m being so slow with requests but college is back in motion and it has NOT been a soft landing, I have been immediately flooded with things to do. On top of that I’ve just been really tired and unmotivated, but I’m trying my best to write at least a little every day! Anon, thank you so much for your patience. I don’t really do crossovers so it’s never specified where the reader worked before, but I hope you like it anyway! I’m sending you so much love <3

Frank fell in love with you quicker than he cared to admit. He had closed himself off from the possibility of finding someone new, not really interested in making connections of any kind, but you came and conquered his heart with immense ease.

It was complete luck, too. It wasn’t unusual for him to pay a visit to a diner for some food and coffee, but you definitely weren’t supposed to be there. You had a history of working in fairly successful restaurants, yet when you had moved to New York, you faced great difficulty with landing a job that you actually wanted. The places you thought were right on your level turned you down, but you needed money for rent, so you lowered your standards, and wound up working for a diner — the same one Frank stumbled into that night.

It had been mostly uneventful and quiet, and you were left alone with the responsibility of closing. There were no other customers except Frank, but he didn’t seem that open to conversation, so you stayed stationed behind the cash register.

And then, two armed men burst in, their faces concealed with ski masks as they held you at gunpoint. With shaky hands, you began to empty the register, but you didn’t have the time to hand over all the money when one of the guys was knocked out to the ground. You flinched, watching in shock and fear how your only customer beat up the other guy and wrangled the gun out of his hands only to whip him in the face with it. You didn’t know what to do, but it seemed he didn’t need your help — within a minute, both armed men were rushing out of the diner with their tails between their legs.

Stunned speechless, you stared at the tall, rugged man who remained. He caught his breath and then turned to you, his sharp features making you swallow. ”You okay, ma’am?” he grunted, his deep voice incredibly enchanting, and you managed a nod. He was about to turn and return to his seat but you found your voice and spoke up.

”Thank you. Let me make it up to you”, you uttered out, making him halt but the look he gave you was almost amused.

”You don’t owe me anythin’, ma’am”, he replied casually, but you weren’t budging.

”Well, I kinda do. Anyway, the food here is… not that great, so maybe you could let me cook for you? Um, we’re closed tomorrow so there’d be no one else here”, you explained, the words coming out of your mouth before your brain fully processed what you were promising him. You were really yearning to cook again, something other than eggs and bacon, and he had definitely earned it.

He eyed you up and down, weighing his options for a second before reluctantly nodding. ”Aight. If you insist”, he agreed, sparking a smile on your face as you nodded to confirm that you weren’t having it any other way. You told him what time to arrive, and as he returned to finish his sandwich, you couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The next day, you got to the diner early and started working on what you hoped would be a meal to remember. You were mostly excited, and at least cooking kept you busy, which meant you didn’t have the time to worry about being alone with the man. Although he had saved your life, it was hard not to be intimidated by him.

As soon as he arrived at the diner, though, he quickly proved to you that there was nothing to fear. He called you ma’am right up until you told him your name and insisted that there was no need to be formal, and when he introduced himself, he did it in a way that was undeniably charming — and polite. You had seen him around the diner enough to know that he wasn’t a chatty person, but as you brought out the food, he attempted to get to know you better and it made your heart race.

You maintained small-talk, but you couldn’t deny you were nervous to find out what he thought of the food. Once he dug in, though, his eyes immediately widened.

”Wow”, Frank blurted out, a little taken aback by the sheer deliciousness. ”Sweetheart, this is amazin’. Where’d you learn how to cook like this?” he inquired, far too curious to not ask.

With heat on your face, you smiled. ”Uh, well, cooking classes mostly. I used to work at a restaurant. Hopefully I will again some day soon. And a lot of practice at home, of course”, you explained, and nodding along your story, Frank divided his attention between the heavenly food and your equally enthralling voice.

”I bet you will. Your talents are wasted in this place”, he commented, making you chuckle softly.

He didn’t stop praising you throughout the meal, but he also asked follow-up questions, keen to learn everything about you. In return, he vaguely opened up about himself, though you could tell he was holding back a little.

That said, the time you spent in that diner over that meal was enough for him to get hooked on you. He kept stopping by for weeks until he finally got the nerve to ask you on a date, suggesting that you’d make dinner together. It hadn’t taken you long to start falling for him, either, so it was easy to agree to what you didn’t realize would bloom into a serious relationship.

Truthfully, you sort of skipped the casual phase. Frank could be an intense man when it came to relationships, even if he hadn’t really thought he would find himself in one. Nevertheless, he felt strongly about you early on, and your first date developed into constantly spending time at each other’s places and sharing a bed on most nights. He tried his best to impress you with his cooking, and while it certainly wasn’t awful, there was a lot you could teach him — and he received the help willingly, eager to listen to you and learn more about your number one passion.

The night that you cooked the spaghetti recipe that your family had followed for years, he was done for.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so captivated by you, and the food, he would have noticed the tension in your shoulders and the constant chewing on your bottom lip. You were quickly falling back into the bad habit of weighing your own worth based on your cooking, convinced that the moment you’d stop making all these elaborate meals for Frank, he would walk out on you. Your way with food was undoubtedly a perk of dating you, and right now, you were struggling to think of any other ones.

”I hope you like it”, you smiled nervously as you handed over the plate of spaghetti to Frank. He gave you an affectionate look and thanked you before giving the food a go, and in an instant, his heart soared.

The food was amazing, but so were you. You had so much talent in you, and when Frank looked up from the plate and met your gaze, he felt so much love in his heart. He admired you and everything you did, finding you so utterly beautiful and amazing and… God, he wanted to marry you.

He had to fight the urge to just announce it there and then, giving you a small smile. ”I’m speechless, sweetheart. You outdo yourself every time. I’m one lucky asshole”, he declared proudly, making you smile but you couldn’t hide the anxiety in your eyes. Would he consider himself lucky if you didn’t cook for him tomorrow?

He noticed the hesitation on your face, though. ”Hey, darlin’. Somethin’ wrong?” he asked with worry evident in his voice, and you rushed to wave it off.

”I’m okay. I’m glad you like it, baby”, you promised, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Only a week later, the issue resurfaced. You came down with the flu and you were rendered useless for a couple of days, giving you a great deal of stress. Frank was all over you, providing you with medication as well as something to drink and eat — and he was not letting you do a thing by yourself. You were his patient to care for and any attempt to get up from the couch was shot down within seconds.

Once his attention faltered from you and he disappeared in the bedroom to find you a cozy sweater, you made your way to the kitchen. Sniffling and aching all over, you began taking out pots and ingredients, and the noise immediately alerted Frank.

”Nah, nah, sweetheart, what’d I tell ya? You ain’t doin’ a thing except rest tonight. You’re sick and you need to just lay down, aight?” he reminded with a firm tone, his hands coming to cover yours in an attempt to stop you.

Reluctantly, you admitted defeat but it didn’t take long for the frustrated, anxious tears to fill your eyes. Frank’s stern expression fell and he tilted his head down at you, concern taking over.

”Hey, hey, hey. I know it sucks but you need to listen to your body right now”, he sighed, trying to understand what was making you cry. You covered your face with one hand as the tears streamed down your cheeks, and with his heart breaking, Frank hauled you into his arms, shushing you softly while wrapping you in a tight embrace.

”I just don’t want you to leave me”, you admitted faintly, and right away, Frank’s eyebrows knitted together and he pulled back to give you a confused look.

”Sweetheart, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Why would you say that?” he frowned, genuinely surprised by your confession.

With a sniffle, you shrugged. ”You love my cooking. And I guess it’s the main reason you’re with me. So, if I stop cooking… why would you stay?” you explained the logic that you had built inside your own head. But Frank didn’t agree with you, and the fond chuckle that he huffed at you was enough to imply as much.

”Baby, I do love your cooking, but it definitely ain’t the main reason I’m with you. I love you, hear me? I’m with you ’cause you’re so fuckin’ kind and understanding and real supportive. And you make me so goddamn happy. I’d still be just as in love if you stopped cooking for good, yeah? It’s great but it ain’t why I adore you so much”, he countered while lifting one hand up to your jaw and tipping it so you could meet his eye. He looked completely serious, and you really wanted to believe him.

”You mean that?” you asked carefully, and he wasted no time in nodding to confirm.

”I fuckin’ mean it. I, uh… I kinda wanna spend the rest of my life with ya”, he cleared his throat, and astonished to hear that, your eyes flew wide open and a wide smile curled your lips up high.

”Frankie… I want that, too”, you breathed out, earning a tender look from him. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, the soft feeling of his lips making your heart do somersaults.

”Hey, I’mma take over the cookin’ responsibilities this week. You just get cozy on the couch and I’ll whip somethin’ up for us, yeah?” he decided, and you shot him a teasing grin.

”Sure you can handle it?” you wondered, taunting him, and he responded with a mixture of a laugh and a scoff.

”My girl’s a comedian now, huh? Get outta here”, he grumbled, gently patting your ass to encourage you towards the couch.

He may not have been as good of a cook as you were, but he made an effort and stayed true to his promise, not letting you anywhere the kitchen until you were feeling much better. And even then, he insisted on helping or occasionally being in charge, just to show you that you were a team and you didn’t owe him anything.

[lily221118]

•⭐• Sevika Headcanons-ish: She's your bodyguard (rough outline)

Part 1 - only an outline for something in the future.

♡ You were part of one of the richest, most well-established families in piltover, Sevika worked for Silco. A deal was struck between Silco and your family that would help Zaun immensely, and in return for the aid, Silco offered up Sevika as a sort of bodyguard.

♡ Sevika did not initially jump at the opportunity to work for a rich, piltovan family. With her morals and loyalty to the undercity, the idea of having to put up with a stuck up daughter of snobs was not the most appealing. She understood her place and loyalty as Silco's number two, however, so she would put her annoyance aside for the sake of her streets.

♡ Upon first meeting you, she could tell you were just some stuck up bimbo, but it actually didn't take long for her to start taking her job seriously. You disliked the arrangement just as much as she did, you didn't want to have some grungy, taken apart, angry woman to follow you around places.

♡ She would have to know where you were at all times, she would greet you every morning outside your door with a gruff "Mornin, miss" until you got fed up one morning. "Sevika, I have a name, use it!" So from then on, she did.

♡ As she finally started to ease up, especially after that morning she actually started seeing you as a real person, she wasn't so bad to be around. She'd give you your space if you asked for it and every now and then, when seeing sides of you she hadn't seen previously, you'd see her mouth twitch slightly into a smile. And every time you saw that crack in her exterior, it made your stomach flip.

♡ The night the dynamic finally started to crack, you had snuck past her to go to a party. It was about time you got to have some fun without her looming over you. You had made it all the way to the house party without realising she was following right behind you, she imagined you must be stupid for doubting she'd realising what you were doing.

♡ She wouldn't announce her presence, she'd just watch you from afar. She understood you wanted your freedom but she also took her job seriously.

♡ She'd keep her distance until a guy sidled up to you, rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. You hardly noticed, that's just what guys did at parties, it didn't mean you'd give him what he wanted. But when she noticed the subtle movement of him dropping something into your drink, she'd be up and over and grabbing him within seconds.

♡ "Sevika, what the fuck?"

♡ Her attention would be on this guy she had a grip on. She'd be all up in his face, threatening to punch him if he didn't get out right that second. "you think you can get away with that? huh? Were you gonna take advantage of her and think no one would notice?"

♡ She doesn't let you stick around after that, to your dismay "I can handle myself!" "obviously you can't or you wouldn't have needed me to intervene. I have a job to do, if you get yourself hurt, its going to be my fault"

♡ It could be the time of night, maybe the too much alcohol running through your system but something was pulling at your gut, some sort of uncomfortable longing. "Why do you care so much? you're just here because you pulled the short straw. I feel bad for you, you just want to go back down to your dingy alleys and fucking crime shit and you're stuck here watching over some entitled bitch"

"at least you're aware you're a bitch"

[black-rose-writings]

But what I’m wondering is: how is it that we Darklina fans are okay with the toxic nature of Darklina, but not with the toxicity of Malina? I mean, aside from the vibes between them, what exactly makes us think the Darkling should’ve been a morally grey character instead of a full-on villain? Because honestly, there are moments where I really saw how horrifying his actions were. Like when he hanged Alina’s loved ones from the trees, or how he tried to return to his body no matter what after his death, or what he did to Genya, or when he wounded Alina’s shoulder, or when he told her, “In the end, I’ll kill everyone you love so that you have no one left but me.” So I’m really confused—why do we still find the Darklina dynamic more appealing than Malina? Especially when Mal changed in the third book, what still made you not like him?

Oh, look, I've been blessed by the "Definitely not an anti" spam nonny. Hi.

So, first things first, I'm not really a Darklina shipper. I appreciate the aesthetics, but Alina needs to do some growing up and shed at least some of her prejudice and naivity, before I'd consider her a worthy partner for Aleksander.

Next, the Darkling is NOT a full-on villain as you've put it. Not by a long shot. Sure, he's not 100% morally pure, but that's what makes him interesting and also able to actually do shit, unlike the protagonists who care more about not doing anything wrong than doing anything right.

As for his "horrifying actions", he could have and should have done worse, actually. He's too nice to Alina and co.

Now, your points, one by one.

In terms of the toxicity of Darklina and Malina, there are two layers to it. Well, three, but two that are actually important, the third is just vibes.

Firstly, Darklina's toxicity is fake, while Malina's is real. What I mean by that is that most of what makes Darklina toxic is things that aren't really possible in real life. There's not many shadow wizards who want to use your magic powers to bring about world peace whether you like it or not. There's plenty of Mals around. From Aleksander's side, most of his "toxic" actions to Alina are done in service of the greater good, while Mal's (much more realistic) toxic actions are done in service of his ego.

Aleksander's toxicity is fantasy - it's magic and intrigue and the crushing weight of responsibility against the wishes of the heart. It's things that will never happen, and the toxicity is just kind of a spice.

Mal isn't just spicy toxic. He's abusive, and not in a fantasy way, either. He's a man who can't handle his girlfriend having a life of her own, a position higher than him, having options other than him (before they even started actually dating). He sleeps around, but slutshames Alina for having a guy look at her, for daring to be desired by someone. He treats her (nearly nonexistent) relationship with Aleksander as a permanent stain on her that he bravely and selflessly overlooks. He whines when she doesn't take time off from her very busy and demanding job to be his armcandy. When she's going through immense stress and also having (what she thinks are) halucinations, he's gets mad at her for refusing to be intimate with him. Alina won't confide in him about that, because the other guy is involved and Mal turns into a territorial idiot at the mention of him. And he solves these issues by getting wasted on the job, gambling and getting into fist fights, and cheating on her. And while Alina only witnesses one such incident, it's likely this was a regular thing for him. He's part of her guard, meant to represent and guard her, and he goes out of his way to embarass and humiliate her and is too wasted to notice her running off into the city to do a performative suicide.

As for his change in the third book, I'll just state that I don't buy it. I've almost certainly gone into it before (and if not, @stromuprisahat certainly has, I know you've been spamming her too, so go check out her anti-Malina posts). Big reason for that is that the entire change of heart occurs off-page and he's generally been able to act nice(ish) for periods of time while their lives were actively in danger, which they are for essentially the entirety of R&R. There is nothing that makes me believe he won't slide right back into being careless of Alina's well-being at best and abusive at worst once they get settled into their old-new life at Keramzin. In fact, the epilogue of R&R suggests he does exactly that. Alina is being ostracised by the community, a shadow of herself, and he doesn't notice or doesn't care, going on about his happy, rich, popular life as usual, because that's how he likes her. The "Old Alina", sickly, weak, overlooked, dependant on him. Yeah, sorry, that's just kinda regular shitty guy behavior. Fuck, my grandparents' 30 year, 4 child marriage broke apart because Grandma started outearning Grandpa and his ego couldn't handle it. These kinds of relationships happen all the fucking time in the real world. And TGT basically uncritically supports that kind of relationship as "true love". Yeah, fuck that.

Compare this to Aleksander, who loves to see Alina shine, both literally and figuratively. Even when he's an antagonist, when he's being "toxic", he constantly pushes Alina to improve, to be her best and most powerful self. Mal called Alina Darkling's whore for daring to have a guy look at her. Aleksander proposed to her and offered her a throne after she tried to kill him. Those are two very different types of men. Does Aleksander like Alina being powerful for external reasons (being more useful as a weapon in his plans)? Yeah. He wants her to be his equal, his queen, and when she refuses (on second-hand information), he does the necessary thing and ensures he still has access to her powers, with the belief that she will eventually understand his point of view and ally with him willingly.

Basically, Aleksander wants Alina to be his queen, Mal wants her to be his donkey, and I'm not gonna apologize for finding one sexy and appealing and the other off-putting and bad. Would you pick a guy who wants you to be his donkey? I don't think so.

The other level is the narrative. Darklinas, by and large, acknowledge that Darklina is toxic. It's part of the appeal, like eating spicy chips. Corruption and redemption stories, power couples, the aesthetics... the narrative, both in canon and in fanfiction, doesn't shy away from the "ugly" or "toxic" parts of their relationship. They're messy and complicated and generally, the people who write Darklina fanfics are well aware of that.

Meanwhile, the books treat Malina as true and pure love, when it's one of the most textbook abusive, codependent relationships possible.

And the third point is purely vibes, which is that a lot of people just prefer the tropes and vibes of Darklina (lightXdark, opposing sides and narrative foils fucking about it, ageless magic men and women) than Malina (childhood friends-to-lovers with an average fuckboy who drags his girlfriend down to be mediocre with him).

As for the Darkling's "horrifying actions":

"Loved ones" is a strong term for teachers, and her shitty ass cult-leader of a mother figure.

I don't know about trying to return to his body after death, I hadn't read the Nikolai books and I'm not planning to either, but I'd call that being a survivor. I would assume you would also prefer to not be dead.

Genya betrayed him. She was given a direct order and disobeyed it, letting an important prisoner escape (which made no sense, btw, but that's a post for another day). It's a pseudo 19th century army, he's a general, she's a soldier. Without magic, she probably would have been flogged instead, if not outright killed. But I suppose the fandom would prefer if he used a sword, so to speak.

The nichevoya bite on Alina is mostly a power play, against, mind you, an enemy. Alina is a deserter, she has sabotaged his plans, and she's tried to kill him before. He's trying to strenghten the bond between them, hoping to make it more stable and gain the upper hand, so she would stop getting in his way. Like, wow, a general wounds a deserter while capturing her, what a horrible thing that never happened.

I don't remember the whole context of the "no shelter but me" line, but again, Alina is his enemy. One he already treats with way more grace than she deserves. Alina is also super damn naive and ignorant about the state of the world she lives in, about the stakes of her actions. She's sheltered, massively so, especially for a fucking war orphan. Aleksander is constantly trying to goad her into growing the fuck up, and that line is in some way a part of it. He's trying to force her eyes open, to face reality, and to do so where he can assure she won't come to any long term harm.

I have said before that Darklina, especially the show version, would work much better as a father-daughter situation than a romantic relationship, because a lot of what Aleksander does comes of as (genuinely caring) tough love parenting. He knows the world sucks and he's trying to rip the bandaid off, take the blindfold off, before something much worse does it for Alina. In their very first conversation, he explains the situation of the Grisha around the world to her, after she'd almost been assassinated. But Alina remains blind. Over and over, she refuses to mingle with the other Grisha, looks away from their pain, refuses to see the world for what it is. So, yeah, I don't blame Aleksander for getting frustrated with her and going for harsher methods.

TL;DR: Darklina is spicy, Malina is bland and poisonous. I hope that helps

[passionwillow]

Rocker in an age gap relationship would include..

I was listening to Close To You by Gracie Abrams and I can’t stop thinking of Rocker. Enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of smut!

- Constant communication. Rocker would always make sure you’re comfortable in this relationship with him. With there being a gap in age, the way he looks at things and perceives them might be different from his partner. He always checks in on your thoughts. “How do you feel about this?” “Do you think of it differently?” “What are your concerns?”

- He never ever wants it to seem like he’s talking down to you. Yes, he’s older, he’s experienced more, but your experiences and knowledge matter to him. Immensely. He wants you to teach him things he doesn’t know, educate him on topics that matter to you. Just because he’s older doesn’t mean he knows everything.

- He acknowledges that your goals in life may be different from his. But he’d be your biggest cheerleader! Whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish, he’s right there helping you or cheering you on.

- He’s aware there may be a power imbalance and tries hard to level it. He’s older, the “man” of the house, but he would love to see you be independent and take care of yourself, make decisions and stick to them. But if giving him the control and letting lead the way is what you want, by all means he will. You trusting him with that responsibility would mean a lot.

- Would get turned on by you calling him out and setting him straight on things. Not so much arguing, but if you guys are disagreeing and you call him out on his bullshit, he’s falling more in love. His job makes him a little cocky (which is understandable really). You standing there with your hands on your hips, eyes narrowed as you correct him.. He melts.

- Having sex is a sacred thing to him. Sure, hookups happen, and he’s had his share. But with someone he’s so emotionally involved with, he’s careful. Especially because you’re younger.

- If you’re a little inexperienced or shy, he’s a softy. Showering you in praise and kissed, guiding and talking you through the unfamiliar things. You need to break, pause, stop, just say the word.

- If/once you’re experienced, he’s perfectly content to lay back and let you take the lead if that’s what you want. If you love being a pillow princess, he is thrilled and taking care of you every step of the way.

- Rocker is one of those guys that’s so soft with their partner and a dick with others. Especially if you’re younger, he feels obligated to show you how a man should treat a woman. And boy, is he treating you like a princess.

[allisonlol]

HII !! could you do dazai, chuuya and fyodor with a s/o that forgot pretty much everything from their past/forgets a lot in the present due to trauma? if possible male reader, and if not gn works aswell! thank you :))

a/n: felt this req hard LOL

warnings: memory loss, past trauma (not elaborated on)

(Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor) With a S/O with Memory Loss From Trauma

Dazai

i feel like dazai can relate in some ways because he too has immense trauma but instead of forgetting it, he remembers it too well

therefore in a way he's grateful that ur brain is blocking those memories so u don't have to remember the pain

dazai had noticed your forgetful behavior the second he met you, and had already categorized it as due to trauma in your past

honestly finds your forgetfulness adorable but it also enrages him bc someone hurt you enough to cause it

simply does not comment on any of this though. if you mention that you forgot something that happened literally yesterday he'll simply smile at you (is that a hint of sadness in his expression?) and reassure u that it's okay

will text u updates throughout the day to make sure u aren't forgetting anything

pictures pictures pictures!!!! literally photographs everything u guys do together so you can always look back to remember :)

but unbeknownst to you, dazai will secretly do some deep digging into your past to find out exactly what happened and who to get revenge on <3

^trust me when i say they will deeply regret everything they had ever done to you

Chuuya

it's canon that chuuya can't remember what... the first 7 years of his life? so he totally understands

he won't question u at all abt the reasonings for your memory loss unless u wanted to talk abt it

does get worried abt your current forgetfulness though. with a job as strenuous as being in the mafia, having a good memory is important

^if any of the higher ups knew you weren't "sufficient enough" in that department, despite your other strengths, you would be disposed of

this added stress doesn't help you at all but chuuya does his best to keep you safe

^having a boyfriend who is also your executive is very useful in this aspect

leaves little notes and reminders on your desk so u won't forget anything important

hell, chuuya will even fill out reports for you if u were having trouble remembering the events that took place

i feel like he would also pay very close attention to everything u guys do together so, if you forgot, he would be able to tell you all about it

Fyodor

another one who categorized your memory loss as due to trauma the second he met you

unlike the others tho, he will question u about it

if you’re honest with him & say that it’s due to traumatic events, he’ll ask if you want him to do anything about it for you (in other words, find and eliminate the ones who caused it 😊)

^if you say no to this, he’ll nod and agree with u but secretly hunt them down on his own

however if you lie to fyodor and say that you’re just forgetful (not due to trauma) he’ll frown & keep asking probing questions until he gets the truth out of u

has he heard of privacy? like damn

^its out of love tho. not saying it’s right but fyodor shows his care by learning as much abt u as possible. he needs to know everything, good or bad

finds your current forgetfulness adorable, albeit irritating at times (remember who we’re talking abt here)

if you forgot an event or important piece of information he will get slightly annoyed with you & might say some insensitive things 😬

^tho once he sees that he’s upset you, fyodor will usually sigh and apologize

recommends u keep a journal for reminders, however he also logs all events that u do alone or together so you won’t forget in the future

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @irethepotato @serenareiss @thescrunkly @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster