#I was like. 'hmm I will try to get this out by the end of the week' and I keep doing. other things.

[takes1]

imagine: aone has big feelings

details. fem!reader / fluffy-feel good fic / emotional pay-off / nfsw themes / mutual virginity / established relationship / communication / nervous virgin!aone / confident virgin!reader / inspired by 'damn u on the edge of the bed u bout to fall off' sound / 600 words

aone is kind and considerate to a fault.

he pulls you in. one big, swift, easy motion because he knows exactly how little effort he needs to give in order to move you the way he likes. his intention is so pure, just to rest his weary head on your soft chest and, maybe if you let him, fall asleep for a minute or two.

he was looking forward to head scratches, listening to the fluttery beat of your heart, taking in your smell at the end of a long day.

but the back of your t-shirt-- or his t-shirt -grossly oversized, not equipped to stay on- catches on the rustled sheets.

you squeak out in surprise, and his vision fills with the raw, delicate sight of your bare chest. your forearms fly up, squishing your tits together, but in a split-second, you decide not to cover up.

aone does it for you. he squeezes his panicked eyes shut, face filling with embarrassment, and forces his shirt back down.

"ohh- baby," you coo and try to reach for him, reassure him, but receive a head shake in return.

"it's okay!"

he retreats. not fast, but in a determined, i-will-not-be-moved type of way. he carefully moves your leg away as he sits up and curls forward, elbows on his knees, hands covering his entire face.

you lay with your legs apart, resting back on your elbows with a pout.

he's just sitting on the edge of the bed, and you don't need to see his face to know that he's got the most severe blush you've ever witnessed.

the back of his neck is deep red, the tips of his ears are radiating heat, once you go to lean all of your weight on his back.

you blow on one ear, soft, and earn a shudder.

"hmm-- baby bear," you purr, "i don't mind."

aone shudders again.

he won't let up. his heel is tap-tap-tapping on the floor, making one of his legs bounce, and it makes both of your bodies shake in subtle tandem.

the worst part is that you can't physically make him move. he's a brick wall, immovable, and steady no matter which way or what body part you tug at.

"i promise," was another sad, failed attempt.

exasperated, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and start to kiss at his neck. something, anything, to get him to talk or move. the muscles in his firm neck twitch and shake under your tongue and teeth, his breath huffier and shallow.

he muttered something unintelligible.

you stopped immediately and swung your weight forward to hear him better, under his palms, "hm?"

"i'm sorry."

with a feeling that it wasn't all he was trying to get out, you stayed very still and waited a few moments longer.

"you're so beautiful--,"

it was small, and quiet- you hugged your arms around him with a comforting squeeze, melting, with an appreciative hum.

his breath hitched and you paused. you could feel the beat of his heart, rapid, and his breathing became more sporadic, like he was silently gasping.

was he crying?

together for six months, and you hadn't seen him cry yet.

he was crying, you could tell by the way he could barely get his words out, "i'm just-- not r-eady for that."

"ohmygosh- that's-- totally fine, taka, i know- i know-i know," you stumbled over your words and the sheets on the rushed and un-ready mission to properly hug him.

by the time you made it to stand in front of him, he was ready to pull you into his crushing embrace. he pushed his wet face into your shoulder and sniffled. his palms, wrapped around your sides, were soaking wet with tears.

your arms around his shoulders let you rub some reassuring patterns into his hair.

maybe it had more to do with the tough day, or the fact that this caught you both off-guard, but you respected his need to take things very slowly regardless of reason.

his breathing is just shaky as he no longer needs to sob- he sniffles again, rubbing his face against your shoulder to calm himself down.

a big, big, sigh, "i love you so much."

it was like you were getting completely overstimulated, in the best way. you loved that he got to see your tits, that he was comfortable enough to cry around you, and he was the first to say it.

"i love you too," was an easy, instant reply.

it felt natural coming out of your mouth. you pressed a short kiss to his hairline and put your cool palms over his warm face. you deliver a few more pecks to his burning forehead.

his sniffly, small chuckle at your affection was so low, and scratchy, and full of relief.

links. longer, sluttier haikyuu. my other imagines. my masterlist. requests open.

notes. idk what this is but IIII liked it. i love him!!! i just feel like he's the biggest sweetie ughhh i wish more people shared in the love. big, stoic, scary but sweet? are you kidding me ahhh!

taglist. 🤍 @integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

i’m obsessed with your declan fics! can we get one where the reader has to calm him down? it would be even more fun if they were mad/annoyed at each other but he can’t help but seek her out when he needs comfort 👀

Paradoxical.

you currently can’t stand the sight of each other. and yet, in this moment… yours is the only face he wants to see.

declan o’hara x female reader (nickname - lucky.)

warnings - smut. cursing. angst. unspecified age gap. yeeeeeearning.

word count - 4.6k

authors note - she’s back 💋. loooved this request, so thank you so much to whoever sent it!! i’m still on my rivals shit, so please join me in this never ending journey. never getting over this man <3

masterlist. inbox.

“How are you doing?”

You snuggle further into the pillows on the bed, popping another strawberry in your mouth to avoid the question.

“Lucky.”

“Hmm?”

“I asked how you are.”

“M’fine,” you answer as you chew, praying the subject gets changed. She clearly doesn’t believe you, so you sigh and look at her pointedly. “I’m being serious. I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Taggie.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? No! I’d never think that.”

“Then why are you treating me like I’m oblivious? I can see that you’re not fine, but you keep lying to my face.”

Taking a deep breath, you exhale in resignation.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re caught in the middle of all of this, Tag.”

“I’m not-”

“You are. He’s your dad, I’m your friend. You are quite literally the middle man here.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” she counters, perching on the edge of her bed. “If I have to be the peacekeeper, I will be.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

“I know, but these things happen. I just… if I knew what had happened, I could try and fix it.”

“You can’t fix this, Tag. I promise you, you can’t.”

She’s quiet for a moment, tracing the patterns on your socks as she thinks.

“What happened, Lucky? I swear that whatever it is, I won’t judge you. I just want to know how it all went so… wrong. One minute the two of you were the best of friends, and the next minute you’re packing up your office and leaving without so much as an explanation.”

“It’s complicated,” you murmur.

“So complicated that you had to quit your job?”

“Yes.”

“He’s never going to find a better assistant than you, you know. Never. He doesn’t even want to look for one, says he’d rather do all the work himself.”

“Well that’s stupid of him. He can’t do all that stuff himself.”

“Exactly. He’s willing to put himself through all of that stress so as not to replace you.”

“That’s his foolish choice, Tag.”

She sighs in frustration, leaning back against the footboard of the bed.

“Did he upset you? Did he say something stupid? You know what he’s like, he often doesn’t think before he speaks. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation here.”

“It wasn’t him, it was me. I quit by my own volition. He didn’t upset me, he didn’t offend me… I just had to do the right thing, which was to leave. I know you’re trying to help, Tag, but you can’t. Not with this.”

Taggie finally realises that she’s fighting a losing battle, choosing instead to shuffle over so she’s all cosy in the pillows next to you.

“I won’t tell him you were here,” she whispers, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“Thank you. I’m sorry you’re caught up in the middle of all of this.”

“I don’t mind, honestly. I just wish there was something I could do.”

“Give it some time. It’s meant to heal all wounds, after all.”

She chuckles, resting her head against yours affectionately.

“Will you help me make some raspberry tarts? I need at least forty of them, and I could do with an extra pair of hands.”

“Of course I will. But if your dad comes home, I’m sprinting out the back door.”

“Alright,” she laughs, shaking her head. “I’ll help with your escape, if need be.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re tempted to smash your head into the bar top.

You’ve been debating the pros and cons of it for the last forty five minutes, actually.

The gala is bustling, bodies packed into the beautiful ballroom with barely an inch between them. Everyone has a drink in hand, the light from the chandelier glinting off of the champagne and whiskey poured into crystal glasses.

You’d said yes to the event when you were still Declan’s assistant - assuming that you’d go together, just like always. And now, here you are, standing on opposite ends of the room and avoiding each other like your lives depend on it.

A cool hand finds your waist, spiced aftershave hitting your senses and letting you know who it is before they even have to speak.

“Hello, darling.”

“Hi, Rupert.”

He spins you around gracefully, smiling at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“You look ravishing, as always.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself, you know. You scrub up quite nicely.”

“Oh stop, I’ll start blushing.”

You can’t help but laugh, accepting his arm as he offers it out to you.

“Come on darling, let’s socialise a bit. You can’t stand in the corner forever.”

“I can.”

“Not on my watch.”

He’s dragging you across the floor before you can process what’s happening, people passing by you in blurs of colour and sparkles.

“Dance with me.”

“Is this fun for you? Torturing me?”

“Oh, immensely,” he grins, hands finding your hips.

You reluctantly wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him with a quirked brow.

“Don’t you have a thousand other women you could be dancing with, Rupert?”

He spins you playfully, laughing as you shriek.

“I do, but none of them are nearly as beautiful as you.”

“Oh god,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Does that line usually work?”

“Never on women as smart as you,” he chuckles, swaying you gently.

You stare at him carefully for a moment, realising you know him too well when you instantly see through his carefree facade.

“Ask it, then.”

“Hmm?”

“I know that’s what this is. You’re going to get me all soft and relaxed and tipsy, and then you’ll ask me about Declan. You might as well just cut to the chase, Rupert.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re much too intelligent to think that I believe that.”

His eyes don’t leave yours as he tilts his head, getting a good look at you and your unwavering expression.

“Fine, you stubborn woman. Fine. I wanted to ask you about Declan at some point tonight. But only from a place of care and concern, not because I’m going to try to wrangle the two you of back together or anything.”

“Subtlety has never been your strong suit.”

“Forgive me for being confused, alright? You were joined at the hip, and all of a sudden you can’t stand the sight of each other. It’s just so unlike the two of you.”

You sigh deeply, dropping your head forward so it rests on his chest. Rupert’s arms tighten around you, silently letting you know he’s got your back.

“It’s complicated,” you explain, muffled by the material of the man’s shirt. “Stupidly complicated.”

“So complicated that it can never, ever be repaired? I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Blimey,” he half gasps, the sound vibrating through the both of you. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day, you bastard.”

Rupert laughs so loudly that people turn their heads to see why, the cadence of it completely infectious. Declan watches from across the room, unable to help himself from at least glancing at the two of you together so cosily.

“He’s currently watching you like some sort of bird of prey,” he informs, tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. “Whatever it was that happened, it hasn’t erased the fact that he cares about you. A lot. And I know for a fact you care about him.”

“Of course I do.”

“There we go then. Surely it’s nothing that can’t be solved with a bit of good old fashioned communication.”

“You’re a terrible communicator,” you argue.

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head as you both sway to the music once again.

“If I had a pound for every time that applied to you, Rupert, I’d be a fucking millionaire.”

He twirls you outwards quickly, watching as the skirt of your dress billows with the breeze of the action.

“And if I had a pound for every time Declan has pretended to stare interestedly around the room this evening just so he has an excuse to look at you, I’d be a millionaire too.”

You ignore the way your heartbeat picks up at his words, choosing instead to focus on the steady rhythm of the music from the piano that fills the space.

“Maybe he’s looking at you.”

“No, Lucky. He’s always looking at you.”

You sigh in resignation, fingers fiddling with Rupert’s collar as you straighten out his tie.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to respond to that.”

“You’re practically his right arm. This separation, whatever its cause, is doing both of you more harm than good. I don’t want to push you darling, because that isn’t fair - but just think about everything I’ve said, alright?”

He stares at you expectantly, brows raised in questioning.

“Alright.”

The grin on his face is almost blinding, beaming out in all directions.

“Now, you look too beautiful to stand on the fringes. I will dance with you all night if I have to, if it means showing off this stunning dress of yours.”

“So charming,” you smile, shaking your head. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse, isn’t it?”

“You’d be stupid to,” he winks, still grinning like the devil.

You let him lead you further into the middle of the dance floor, chuckling as he spins you as you go. Your hand has just slipped into Rupert’s once more when you’re both startled by a crash coming from the other side of the room.

The two of you whip your heads around towards the source of the commotion, to see two men in undoubtedly expensive suits brawling with each other. One of them is throwing punches while the other can do nothing but take them, merciless at his opponents hands. Some people are shouting and screaming, trying to physically separate them, while others turn a complete blind eye to the ruckus.

“Fuck,” Rupert mutters, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the scene.

You’re about to ask what the hell he’s doing when you’re pushed forwards and given a clearer view of what’s in front of you, understanding Rupert’s panic immediately.

Ginger is on the floor. Declan is standing above him with bloody knuckles.

“Fuck,” you repeat.

You want to run in the other direction, desperate to not be involved with the drama. And then you look at Declan - the way he’s falling apart at the seams, nerves ruined and adrenaline rushing through his veins, clearly on the edge of something awful… and all of a sudden you’re walking towards the brawl, logic be damned.

There’s so much noise surrounding you that you can’t hear yourself think. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and your heart pounding against your ribcage in your sudden determination to get to the Irishman.

You’re yelling his name without even realising you’re doing it, shouting at the top of your lungs to fight over the commotion.

“Declan! Oh for fuck sake… Declan!”

Your voice somehow breaks through the noise like a sirens call, the familiar melody of it finding his ears like his favourite song. His eyes finally meet yours, and the rest of the room melts away.

You have a conversation without saying anything, so many words exchanged in such a short amount of time. The two of you have always been good at this - communicating in your own language, silently and easily.

You grab his injured hand and intertwine your fingers with his, pulling him away from the scene of the crime with determination. You cast a look back to Ginger, who remains on the floor with blood dripping from his nose, before dragging Declan through the crowd and towards the front door of the huge Manor House. You can hear Rupert trying to mitigate the situation as you leave, using his charm as he does best.

You make your way outside, yanking the man behind you in your path without so much of a glance backwards. You trudge through the gardens in your heels, ignoring the way the dewy grass brushes across the tops of your feet occasionally. Finally, after walking for what feels like hours but was actually mere minutes, you come across a bench, sheltered by an old stone wall and neatly trimmed hedges.

You shove him to sit down, still refusing to look him in the eye. Neither of you say anything, the evening breeze and two sets of lungs heaving all that can be heard.

“What happened?” you whisper eventually, reluctant to disturb the peace. “Who started it?”

Declan looks surprised that you’re speaking to him, failing to hide the shock on his face.

“Will ya sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

“You’re not the boss of me anymore, remember?” you half joke, sitting down anyway.

“Funny,” he says, completely deadpan. He looks at you carefully for a long moment, before continuing. “It was Ginger, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with him otherwise.”

“What did he say?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Matters to me.”

“Well it shouldn’t.”

“Right.”

You stare at your shoes, wondering why you even bothered to rescue him back in the ballroom.

“Fuck this, then,” you mutter as you stand up to leave.

A hand wraps around your wrist as quick as a flash, pulling you back to sit down where you were.

“No. You don’t get to just walk away from me, not again.”

“Tell me what Ginger said.”

“Tell me why you quit workin’ for me.”

“I already did.”

“Liar. You gave me a poor excuse that’s absolute bollocks. I don’t believe it for a second.”

“That’s your problem, then.”

“Yes, it is.”

You stare at him, completely exasperated by the events of the last hour.

“You can’t just punch people at galas, Declan. It’s a bad look for you, for Venturer, and for every member of staff that relies on you.”

“I know.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

He scrubs his hand over his face, clearly frustrated with both you and the situation at hand.

“He made some horrible comment about you. I fell right into his trap too, like a bull and a fuckin’ red scarf.”

“What did he say?”

He hesitates for a moment.

“Just… something crude about you sleepin’ with me to get to where you are. Called me a cradle snatcher, too.”

“You can’t be a cradle snatcher if I’m a grown woman.”

“Exactly. And it’s not true, anyway. We all know that.”

“So why did you hit him, then? If we all know it’s not true?”

Declan sighs, fatigue painting the sound.

“Because no one gets to speak about you like that with no consequence. And because I was angry.”

“At me.”

“At you. Yes.”

You fiddle with your fingers, entirely unprepared for the fact that you’re about to have the one conversation you’ve been completely avoiding.

“I never meant for any of this to happen,” you begin. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this.”

“Then what did you mean to happen, Lucky? Did you think that you could just up and quit with absolutely no warning, without a problem? That I’d just let you walk out? Did ya think I’d help you pack your things?”

“Obviously not,” you whisper. “I’m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not. Which is why I know that you thought about that decision long and hard. And that’s what I can’t seem to wrap my head around.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

He looks at you with pleading eyes, clearly desperate to resolve the issues between you.

“Please, Lucky.”

His voice is cracking just like his heart, breaking down the middle to allow all of his emotions to spill out onto the grass. You’ve never heard him sound like this. You hate it.

“I had to, Declan. For both of our sakes.”

“For fuck sake, can you cut it out?” he snaps, volume raising.

“Cut what out?”

“Speaking in these fucking riddles! I can’t even pretend that I have any idea what you’re talkin’ about. Please, whatever it is, however terrible you think it is… I just need you to say it. We’ll deal with the consequences. But I can’t keep goin’ around in circles, dancing around the subject constantly.”

You take a deep breath, bottom lip wobbling as you will yourself not to cry. You’re well and truly at the end of your tether, unsure of how much more you can take - or how much you want to. Deciding to throw caution into the wind, you exhale carefully before turning to face the man next to you.

“You’ll hate me. When I tell you.”

“I could never hate you. Never, Lucky.”

You get lost in your own head for a moment, staring off into space as you debate the best way to go about this. A large hand finds its way into your knee, comforting and grounding. His thumb rubs patterns into your skin where the slit of your dress is, warming you up from the outside in.

“I thought about it for a long time,” you begin. “A long time. Because being your assistant is the best job I have ever had, or will ever have. It was a dream, Declan. Even when we had a tough day, or week, or month, I always knew we’d be okay.”

He nods, his full attention on you.

“We were comfortable, me and you. Maybe a little too comfortable for a boss and his assistant, but in a good way, I think. I was settled, with you.”

He squeezes your thigh, urging you to continue.

“But then, I think we got too settled. People started to notice - which doesn’t matter, but they did nonetheless. I was sleeping over at your house, staying awake with you until the early hours, attending galas and events as your date. And I wasn’t sure what it was - the thing that was bothering me - until one day, it clicked.”

“Lucky…” he whispers, desperate for you to spit it out.

“I’m in love with you.”

The two of you sit the silence for a moment, listening to the breeze softly whip around you.

“That’s what clicked. And that’s why I quit. Because it felt like a conflict of interest, like a… betrayal.”

“A betrayal?”

“Yes. Like I was taking advantage, or something. And I didn’t think it was fair, for you, having me pining over you at work. I didn’t want you to feel pity for me, if you noticed eventually - I hated the idea of being treated differently by you, all through fault of my own. So I quit to get ahead of it.”

“Are ya done?”

“I, uh… yes?”

“Great.”

Declan surges forward, smashing his lips to yours with the most passion than you’ve ever experienced in your life. One of his hands tangles in your hair as the other cradles your face, pulling you as close as he physically can. His tongue slips into your mouth cheekily, allowing you to taste whiskey, cigarettes and the cool night air. Eventually, when you both need to breathe, he pulls away reluctantly, resting his forehead on yours.

“Did you do that to make me shut up?” you murmur, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“Yes and no.”

He’s grinning like the devil, chuckling as the palms of his hands find your cheeks.

“Yes and no?”

“Yes and no. I took the action needed to stop you rambling. But I’ve been thinking about doing that for a long time.”

“… What?”

“Why do you think we got so comfortable, Lucky? It works two ways. You were just the only one brave enough to make a change - even if it was the completely wrong thing to do.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

“The opposite,” he laughs. “I can’t remember when it happened. I woke up one day and I just knew. And I knew that you’d never feel the same way, but I love being around you so much that I was willing to make that sacrifice. So I was a coward, and I stayed silent.”

“We’ve made this complicated. Too complicated.”

“Much too complicated.”

“But… it is. You were my boss, and you’re older than me, and I’m good friends with Taggie now, and-”

Declan kisses you again, sweeter this time.

“We can figure it out, Lucky. You know we can.”

“Maybe,” you whisper.

“And I want you to come back to work.”

“Declan-”

“I’m serious. I cannot cope without you. I will never find an assistant as good as you, and quite frankly, I don’t want to. I want you. No one else.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a conflict of interest, like I said earlier.”

“But it isn’t. Not anymore. Before all of this, we were two people in love working together. And when you come back, we’ll be two people in love working together.”

You can’t find it in you to argue, realising that he’s actually making a good point. If anything, it should be easier now that you’ve both communicated your feelings - no more skeletons in the closet.

“Tell me you don’t miss it,” he provokes. “Tell me you’re not even remotely tempted to come back.”

“I can’t.”

“Exactly.”

You take a deep breath, moving the hair away from his eyes tenderly.

“I’ll think about it, alright? I’ll have a think when I go home.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

He smiles like the cat that’s got the cream, entirely too satisfied with the outcome of this conversation.

“I know we’re in uncharted territory here, Lucky. But we can figure it out. You know we can.”

“I know. It’ll be hard, but… I know.”

You lean up to kiss him softly, sighing as your eyes drift closed. He winds a hand around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pulls you closer, trying to plaster every inch of his body to yours.

You lose yourself in everything Declan - the way he tastes, the way he smells, the way he feels underneath your fingertips. You want to strip him bare right here and memorise every curve of his muscles, every line in his skin, every mark on his face.

His hand slips further and further up the slit of your dress, gripping at your thigh as if he’s worried you’ll slip away. You’re half in his lap, draped over him on the bench as he still pulls you impossibly closer.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he whispers against your throat. “Every. Single. Night.”

He kisses his way along your neck, revelling in the way you squirm at the feeling of his moustache on your skin. You grab fistfuls of his white shirt, crumpling it in your hands to try and give yourself some sort of anchor.

When Declan’s fingertips slip into your underwear, all you can do is sigh, resigned to the fact that you’d let him do absolutely anything he wanted in this current moment.

“We’re in public,” you protest weakly, both of you knowing you don’t want him to stop.

“We’re at the bottom of the garden, surrounded by three hedges and a wall. If anyone sees, that’s their fault.”

You drop your head forward onto his shoulder, parting your legs to give him a better angle. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels just how aroused you are, practically vibrating with want.

“Are ya this wet f’me?”

You nod against his shirt, not trusting your voice.

“Oh, sweetheart. Well I can’t leave you like this, can I? That’d be cruel.”

He pulls your underwear to the side fully so he can slip a finger into you with ease, both of you groaning at the sensation. Sliding a second one in, you hold onto him for dear life, panting like you’ve run a marathon.

“Please,” you whisper. “Declan, please.”

“I’ll do anything to hear you say my name like that again, Lucky. Anything in the world.”

“Declan.”

He sets a steady pace, crooking his fingers as he goes to make sure you see stars. Your eyes are rolling back, lip caught between your teeth to stifle any sounds that threaten to escape.

“God, I wish I could hear how pretty you sound,” he groans, looking at you intently. “You can make as much noise as you want when I take you home. Promise.”

You whimper softly, bucking your hips up to meet his rhythm. The bench is cold underneath you, the air turning chilly, but neither of you pay any mind to it. You’re too far gone to care.

You grab Declan’s other hand and stick two of his fingers in your mouth, laving your tongue around them to keep you quiet. He moans at the sight, all deep and rumbled, the sound reverberating through both of you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

All you can do is look at him with big, bright eyes, pleading with him silently to finish the job at hand.

“You want me to make you come, sweetheart? That it?”

When you nod, he picks up the pace of his fingers, thumb pressing circles into your clit.

“Have ya thought about this? In bed, alone, getting yourself off in the dark?”

You whine at his words, nodding your head in answer.

“That’s a good girl. Come for me, sweetheart. Come for me and I’ll take you home and fuck you properly, yeah?”

You see stars as you climax, gripping onto his shirt and his hand for dear life. He works you through it, murmuring filthy promises into your ear as he does it.

Lifting his fingers from between your thighs, he pops them straight into his mouth, both of you groaning in unison.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs against your lips, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Perfect girl.”

You shuffle sideways so you’re pressed into Declan’s side, two strong arms encircling you immediately.

“Thank you.”

“For the orgasm?”

“Yes and no,” you laugh. “For listening to me. I’ve been going insane trying to think about what I’d say to you if I got the chance to explain myself, but no words seemed to suffice.”

“I just wish you’d talked to me sooner, sweetheart. I’ve been going insane trying to get through life without you. Not to mention that office is chaos.”

You laugh gently, cuddling into him and his warmth.

“I’ll fix it on Monday.”

“Yeah? For definite?” he asks, hope colouring his voice.

“Yeah. Like I said - best job I’ve ever had.”

“You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, sweetheart.”

You grin as you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, all soft and sugary sweet.

“Besides. Someone’s going to have to sort out the inevitable mess that’ll follow you hitting Ginger at a charity gala.”

“Ah, I forgot about that,” he laughs, planting a kiss into your hair. “What would I do without ya, hmm?”

“You’ll never have to find out,” you smile, resting your head onto his shoulder. “Never again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You sit on the bench for a little while longer, both of you looking up at the stars that paint the sky in a canopy above your heads. You’re quite convinced you could stay like this forever, just the two of you in your own little universe.

There’s paperwork to be done, meetings to be had, deals to be made. But all of that can wait.

Right now, it’s just you and Declan.

The way it should be.

reblogs are gold dust, lovers!! reblog and circulate your favourite fics, and your writers will create more. simple. <3

[71kedi-yip]

I was guilty of this when I was 12 (Zoe and Charles). Now, I think you are right but I realized I have thoughts on that and need to get them out, so:

I think at 12 I not only didn't understand death and how it affects people fully, but also was still trying to deal with these character deaths myself. And naming your kid after someone dead who is dear to you to honour them is a common thing in life, so...

And probably since more then one fic used the same names, they ended up becoming commonly accepted names that if someone(probably also around 12) was writing a fic and didn't know what to name the kids, they used the default names, further reenforcing them.

Also these specific names I feel kinda dates them? I don't know how to explain it but I caught up to the books at House of Hades(had to wait like a month, went feral) and you get reminded of Zoe in House of Hades and it is where Percy and Annabeth dreams of a future right? Then came a year of waiting for BoO, where I tried to fill the void of the books with fic writing (I learned the existance of fanfic via someone posting their fic like "leaked episode from BoO" btw). And like, they wanted a family, I like family fics, let me go do it! And I think I wasn't alone? I think a good chunk of people thought about and wrote about Percabeth having kids around that point(I was not in the english speaking fandom at the time so can't speak for certainty).

What am I gonna name the kids? Well, I just remembered Zoe, hmm I need a boys name, (I think I was also too young to really understand Luke at the time. Now, if I was naming percabeth kids after dead friends, I would go with Luke. At the time Luke still felt like a traitor) hmm dead male friend... Charles?(if this was happening now I think Jason would be on this list, right? Having said that, Jason is not dead, nope, he decided to finally live for himself, left the demigod scene and now lives in florida.)

Now, a full decade and a bit later(holy) I understand you are right. And if I was able to recognize it, this fact would have been obvious from the very first book where it is explained that Sally picked the name Percy because it was the one hero that had a good ending. Sally saw Percy's name as a way to wish a life for him and I think Percy and Annabeth would follow the same idea, so they wouldn't name their kids after dead friends.

Having said that, Zoe and Charles were one of my first characters, I adore them and I love them and I am ok with their names being kinda wrong. And even if I know their names are wrong I don't want to change them because for a good decade I did think of them as Zoe and Charles and I am attached to them.

So... I think that's why???

Tldr:I plead the I was 12.

Does anyone else hate the headcannon that Percabeth name their children after friends who have died (Charles, Silena, Zoe, etc) because I do. I feel like it would be a painful reminder that they don’t want to think about when they see their kids, and they wouldn’t want their children to be affected by it. But idk, that’s just me

[razorblade180]

Alter Ego

Summer:Mom, can I dye my hair?

Weiss:Nope. Find another way to rebel.

Summer:It’s not about rebelling. There’s an underground open mic concert in Mantle. I’m tired of wearing hoods and masks as a disguise. It gets in the way of my singing.

Weiss:….

Summer:What?

Weiss:You’ve seen me in a black wig and red eyes and thought you had to dye your hair? Make an alter ego. *points to closet*

Summer:Really!?

Weiss:Yeah. Knock yourself out. Find what works.

Summer:Yussss! *dives into closet*

Two hours passed by and a lot of clothes begin pile up.

Jaune:*walks in* Hey I’m back. Brought coffee.

Nora:And friends~

Ruby:Technically family. I’m here to raid your fridge.

Ren:I’m here to make sure Nora doesn’t.

Weiss:Can you stop Ruby? *sips coffee*

Ren:One is hard enough.

Ruby:What’s with the fashion storm? Coco call you for a show?

Weiss:My daughter is currently in the closet trying on her fortieth altar ego disguise for an underground concert.

Jaune:So in the end, I did have a child with Bleiss.

Weiss:You and her had many things, a child is not one of them.

Jaune:Not for lack of trying.

Weiss:*red* That’s for sure.

Ruby:You two are gross.

Summer:You’re all gross if you ask me!

Weiss:Are you ready yet!? You have an entire audience now.

Summer:Oh yeah! This is the one! I’m definitely feeling it!

The door slides open and Summer jumps out. Time itself felt a thousand times slower as a bright red ponytail came into view. Stunning green contact lens caused coffee to go down poorly, choking Weiss while the others felt frozen.

Summer popped out with the widest grin. She wore a small black leather jacket over a dark green shirt with yellow nerves running down it from the left shoulder. Black tights were worn under a matching studded miniskirt that paired will with green and yellow laced black boots. Summer never felt cooler in her life!

WRNJR:..

Summer:Pretty awesome right!? I’m usually not into skirts but i figured if I’m trying to be unrecognizable, this is how to do it! Oh! Maybe I need punk rock gloves or something. How are feeling about the red wig and green hair combo?

Jaune:Umm-

Summer:Gonna be honest, I think I look pretty cute. Never tried these colors together like…it works! *grinning*

Ruby:Are we married to the idea of the ponytail?

Summer:It’s for head banging on stage! It’ll probably come out a little later or if I get a headache. Dad, how do I look?

Jaune:…*smiles* Like you’re ready to wow the world.

Summer:Hehe, right!? I can see why you like red so much auntie. I’m feeling pretty confident right about now. *stands proudly*

Ren:Like you’re invincible?

Summer:Yeah! You get it.

Nora:*smiles warmly* You’re going to need a name.

Weiss:Be better than me your aunt.

Ruby:Bleiss was a good idea.

Weiss:No, it was the only idea and it stuck.

Summer:Welp…Winter is taken. How about Autumn?

WRNJR:Try again….

Summer:Wow, tough crowd. Hmmm.

Weiss:….Gild. Like the process.

Summer:Aah, that’s nice. Has a sense of irony to it considering this is a disguise! Not to mention the yellow. Gild, people can chant that! Now for a last name for the announcers…*rubs chin*

Nora:JNRR

Ren:You’re asking for her to get caught. Especially if you want her to spell it like I think you do.

Jaune:…Go with Arkos. With a “k”

Weiss:!? Jaune, are you…alright with that?

Jaune:*nods* I never really got to use it. Might as well finally be a code name.

Summer:Isn’t using something close to your last name a little risky?

Jaune:Trust me, nobody will get it.

Summer:I guess that’s true if I spell it like you said. Heh, I kinda always wanted to use your surname in something. Schnee gets bothersome.

Weiss:Agreed.

Summer:And hey, it’s kinda like I’m still honoring you too auntie! I can’t use Summer, but Arkos is pretty close to Arc-Rose.

Ruby:That’s definitely one way to look at that name. Hehe, I appreciate the sentiment.

Gild:Gild Arkos. Hmm, not half bad. Let’s make it a test run and i can work out the details if this goes well. Oh this concert is gonna rule! I can finally go all out and sing songs i don’t get the chance to. I gotta go find my journals and pick! Thanks guys! Love ya. *runs off*

……..

Weiss:I’m sorry this spiraled so quickly. You can take the coffee back and raid the fridge.

Ren:I don’t think anyone would’ve imagined out of all the makeup combinations…Do you think we could convince her to change contacts?

Nora:I’m sure when she stops caring about what she should sing on a “proper stage” this phase will end.

Jaune:It’s fine guys. She’s happy. Besides, if she’s like her mother, it’ll be a random occurrence. That being said, I never realized our kids might only know Pyrrha’s image through her statue.

Ruby:We don’t exactly have many photos together, do we? She we show her?

Jaune:Maybe another time. Let my girl be a rockstar.

Nora:You just don’t want your daughter to see you in a dress.

Jaune:And?

Weiss:*rubs his back* I guess the world really is full of surprises. You sure you’re alright?

Jaune:Cut me a little slack. I may not be invincible but I know how to roll with the punches. *grins* If you think I need cheering up though, I’m sure Bleiss has some ideas.

Weiss:*blushing*…She might.

Ruby:Eugh. Raiding your fridge. C’mon you two. *walking away*

Ren:Ruby, don’t you literally sleep with her brother at his office for fun?

Ruby:And that right there is why I’m helping Nora get passed you so she can help eat everything. You’ve drawn your line in the sand.

Nora:Honestly I’m interested in the idea of changing my wardrobe for laughs. Remember my goth phase? That was fun.

[aninipanin1]

I love your manager reader fics 💕💖💕

I'm curious about adult manager reader first interaction with the world 5 tho 👀 you only write them a bit in passing but I love to read more about em

MISS RIGHT

Notes: I am so glad you asked for this AHAHAHAH and thank you so much for the support

"You all will be staying here until the matches start, which is scheduled until the end of the second selection. You will be alerted of when this is, so as of now, you all can do whatever it is you wish, even heading out of the facility if ever."

Anri nodded her head at the five players from all over the world, trying her best to make sure her English was atleast understandable. The players did not seem to pay attention to her words all that much, just nodding off at the brief explanation. After all, they were just after the check and well, a few of their own personal agendas. Not anything serious. And well, Anri did not mind at all, leaving them the moment all was said and done.

The facility was rather big, well it was big from the outside but on the inside, it was definitely bigger. Especially since they heard it housed more than 200 teenagers, who all lived here. Well, surely it has to be really big to be comfortable, or it's not and its conditions are inhumane which would definitely get the authorities involved, especially since most of the participants were minors. So that means it was the former.

And with that, each of the 5 foreign players headed somewhere to quell their boredom.

LEONARDO LUNA

The Spanish player found himself resting in one of the lounge areas of the separated stratum for the staffs to work on to avoid any of the players seeing him and finding out the second plan for their second selection.

He scrolled through his phone mindlessly, finding it a tad bit boring since there was really nothing new about the topics that he liked in general. And he would have continued to be bored until he heard a minor 'thud' hit the floor near him. He admitted, it made his heart jump, and his head whipped in the direction immediately.

Thankfully, it was not as bad as he thought it was, seeing the thud was of a huge pile of papers instead of the person themself slipping on the floor. Like the supposed gentleman he was, he walked to yoh and helped with gathering the scattered paperwork.

"Thank you so much! Sorry for the bother!"

You said, continuously bowing her head while scampering to pick up the paper. It was in Japan's native language, so Luna had no way of understanding what the words were. However, understanding the apologetic tone and the many bows that he knows are respect of some sort in the culture of Japan, he had a vague idea at least.

'Must be something like thank you in Japanese...?'

"It's nothing, Miss-"

He cut himself off, though, when he looked down at the contents of the papers in his hands. It was printed with different japanese texts, all he could not understand, but there are drawings and sketches about some sort of strategy for a real 11 vs 11 match, probably for practice sessions.

But, the placements of the positions were definitely... interesting and even unconventional, to say the least. But, it peeked his interest enough for him to ask you about it.

"Hmm, may I ask Miss. Did you make these?"

Realizing that you were talking to THE Leonardo Luna made you nervous. Clearing your throat, you nodded and spoke in English to try and hopefully cross the language barrier.

"Yes, I did, Sir. Um, I'm the manager and a helper of Ego-san when it comes to training the players."

"Hmm."

He hummed, and that only made the nerves worse. You knew he was judging the positions of the practice sheets you made, which were all just theories you made and have yet to test out. But, here it was, being looked at by a world class player.

'Out of all my work, why this one?!' You panicked in your mind.

However, instead of the scrutiny you thought it would face, he looked to be impressed. Eyes moving about the paper and his mind seeming to run about how each scenario may work, and needless to say, he was impressed with how you formed such a creative way of arranging players with differing talents and skills.

He then looked at you. For someone who does not look like much, you exceeded his expectations. He'd give it to you, you have a creative yet logical and sound mind, a mix of opposing characteristics but meshed well in the sport.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Luna?"

"No. Nothing's wrong. Just continue being creative, Ms. I like the way your brain works."

He said, leaning close to your face with a smirk filled with mischief and a hint of amazement. Huh, looks like this place is not that bad. He thought the people in here either ranged from crazy to idiotic, but, there are still some people here that is worth the attention.

Needless to say, your first impression on him was more than good.

ADAM BLAKE

It was a few days before the end of the second selection was set, and you were as busy as ever. Stopping by a water fountain set up around the facility, you stopped for a moment to refill your water tumbler while balancing your tablet.

It did not take long before you finished the small task, but before you left the place, you felt someone behind you, his closeness apparent from the way you felt his breath touch the nape of your skin and his body slightly against your back as if your sixth sense themselves felt the pinch of the person's presence.

"Well, well...I did not know there was a beautiful manager around here."

You stopped typing on your tablet before turning around to find yourself face to face with the infamous English player. He was almost twice the size of you, having the advantage of playing a sport professionally and all.

And that fact intimidated you, gulping at the flirtatious smirk on his face as he leaned even more to you while you pulled back to try and avoid his face as much as you could.

"Um, pardon, sir-"

"Adam is fine, sweethcheeks. Damn, you're even prettier up close."

'What is even happening...'

The proximity made you even more nervous and confused. Out of all the people, it was you that he had to approach? And besides, does he not feel shame that there are cameras around the facility or the fact that someone may just pass by and walk in on you two like this? Oh, the scandal that might ensue will ruin your whole career!

And you being quite responsible, knew that the only way to avoid that was to avoid the man himself. So you did just that, calm and sweetly letting him down as best as you can without having to anger him or potentially your and his career.

"Um, I'm so sorry, Mr. Blake, but I have to go and do my work." You tried to walk to his side and escape, only for him to slide in front of you again, the smirk on his face growing wider.

"Hey now, there's no need to be scared. I don't bite, unless you want me to."

He used the fact that he was double your size, trapping you to receiving his flirtatious words and gazes. Truthfully, before he saw you, he was starting to get bored due to the lack of entertainment in the facility. So, when he heard there was a female manager walking around the facility that was his age, he wanted to see what you were about.

And well, at first he was disappointed. You looked...plain. Not bad looking, in fact, you were pretty, but very much like a plain Jane. Maybe it was because he was used to seeing the most beautiful of actors and models that he is a bit insentivized with appearances, and that was how he felt.

But, the moment you did catch his attention was when he heard Luna start to talk about you. The Spanish player would always mention you in passing conversations about football and just general topics, he seemed to genuinely love to talk about you and about how you were supposedly smart and unique in your own ways.

At first, he was annoyed at this. He just could not shut up about you, can't he? But, he wanted to look at this from another perspective. So, here he was now, trying his best to find out what was so interesting about you in the best way he knew possible. He was bored too, so why not?

"Um please, I really have to go."

"Ah-ah, not yet, sweetheart. Why not stay here for a bit? I can-"

But to his surprise, you were not taking 'no's seriously, only your job was serious in your mind and at that current moment, you really needed to continue it. So, you crouched and ran out of his hold before scurrying away like a skittish animal.

"I'm so sorry, sir! But I really needed to go. Bye."

You kept the politeness before vanishing through the many halls of the facility, leaving him starstrucked. In all his life, there had been many instances of him being rejected. Sure, most of the time the girls were more than willing to flirt with him, but that does not mean there have been a few share who immediately turned him down.

So why was this different?

It was probably the way your eyes looked. Instead of the usual flushed expression followed by an annoyed tone, instead he was met with only a distracted haze in your eyes. Like, your mind did not even set in the fact that he was flirting with you, that you were too focused in whatever you were about to do.

Like you were close to clueless about his intentions. Or maybe, you just did not care at all, finding your job much more fulfilling and important to pay attention to.

And this ignited something in him. He always did love a bit of a challenge in everything, especially women. He'll take on the challenge of making you start to pay attention to him, to the point that you will be distracted by him.

'Hm, let's see how much you interest me even more as time passes, Miss Y/n.'

PABLO CAVAZOS

"You mean, I don't look good in green?"

The Argentinian frowned at the advice, not in a malicious way that he disregarded your opinion, but in a disappointed way that one of his main favourite colors to wear clashed with his bright hair.

"That doesn't mean you can't wear it anymore though. I think a muted green would look really good, just not neon green."

You added with a smile. Out of all the players in World 5, you became the closest with Cavazos a lot (with a few exceptions), and this was due to how in some strange way, you two had a lot in common. From your likes in food and entertainment to the love of cute things and even some of your habits.

And that all started with this certain conversation when the player walked out of his room wearing a neon green sweater, and you being you, started to talk about possible combinations of color that may fit him as well as color theory for some reason.

"But, I think monochrome fits you the best. So your eyes and hair can pop even more!"

Now, Pablo was a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and he did not care for what other people usually told him. Due to his eccentric looks, he was always the point of attention, someone people would pay attention to immediately in a large room whether it was for good or not.

He has been told most of his life how to present himself. What are the best ways to suit his features with something. To wear something that would get the attention off of his hair and eyes and instead have it mix in with the rest of his outfit, or to even cut his hair so he won't be as distracting. But, one moment, it's as if he had some sort of epiphany.

He realized that those people, were not looking out for him as he thought they initially. Instead, they wanted him to stop shining because of who he really is. They wanted to take his star quality and shine away, the things that made him unique out of everyone in the world.

So he stopped listening to what everyone said, and instead, he tried to try and stand out more, to take more space in the eyes of the people, strangers or not. To reject any type of rejection towards his true self.

Atleast, that's what he should do with you. To tell you to stop giving him opinions that just take away to who he truly is. But, instead he listens intently, nodding and even sparing a smile at some lighthearted jokes you'd mix in.

Why? He doesn't know why, either. Maybe it was the tone of your voice. One filled with happiness and genuineness, not that of condescension. You just gave genuine advice, not force them unto him, the shine in your eyes telling him there was no malice or want to suppress him, but instead a longing to find him succeed in even something so small like clothing choices.

So, he listens to you ramble about color theory and takes into mind what you were telling him, even at the expense of changing his fashion choices.

And you continued your mindless chatter, until you realized that you did not have any position to tell a man of his fame and standing what to do, when everything he currently did seemed to work.

On reflex, you tried covering your mouth, gasping a bit at the realization.

"I'm so sorry for babbling too much! I-"

But, he only cut you off. Taking your wrist in his hand, his face remaining emotionless and cool as he just shook his head.

"No, no. I like all your advice. Please continue."

DADA SILVA

"How am I even going to carry all of these?"

You mumbled as you looked at the large boxes that were in the storage room, all stacked upon each other. You can already feel the strain on your back and bones at the prospect of carrying the heavy boxes and transferring them to another room.

The current storage room was deemed a bit big to just be a storage room, so to make use of the space, everything in it will be transferred in a different and smaller room. Unfortunately for you, you were the only one currently available to make the move.

Not complaining anymore, you used your brain to make the move a bit easier. Using carts and other contraptions to move the heavy boxes. But of course, even with this, moving dozens of heavy boxes was not an easy feat for one woman.

"Ugh, just a few more...and then maybe, I can get some rest."

But to your surprise, the box in your hand that was a point of struggle for you was taken out of your hands gently. Blinking at the sudden predicament, you looked up to find a familiar figure standing tall, his arms carrying the boxes with ease as if they did not have any significant weight to them.

"Pardon for the sudden intrusion, but I can't just let a lady continue struggling."

"Oh, Sir Silva, you didn't have to-"

"It's nothing. It's only a few boxes."

He shrugged and continued the walk, you led the way, hand still pushing the rest of the boxes on the cart now that your hands were free. If you were not gonna lie, you definitely felt somewhat nervous.

Why would you not be? You let someone like THE Dada Silva help you out in something so miniscule. Sure, he offered, but he was legit being paid millions by the facility and the JFU, and you were letting him do peasant work? Oh, how the heads will kill you if they find out the stunt you pulled.

Nevertheless, you gave a bright smile filled with gratitude.

"Thank you so much for the help, Mr. Silva...I am REALLY sorry for inconveniencing you."

The man could not help the soft smile that pulled on his face. The look in your eyes, even the fidgety look in your figure, definitely showed how genuine you were about the gratitude and apology. Not that he wanted one. It was just common sense for a man to help a lady that he could see was in need.

But, it did feel a little lighter and more fun when you gave him the sweetest thank you and smile he was ever given by anyone.

You had been the talk between the rest of his fellow players. From Luna's neverending praise for your intelligence and creativity, to Cavazos' rain of appreciation and mentions of your open and kind personality, and even Blake's nonstop plans of wanting to impress you himself, and supposedly redeem himself in your eyes, whatever that meant.

So, naturally, he got curious, too. All the words they threw about you were all a jumbled mess, different perspectives of different people towards one individual. And so, due to this, he cannot really make out who you really were or what type of person you were.

So, he went to investigate himself, not wanting to rely on hearsay. He approached you, finding it a good moment to see you struggling with the boxes. It can be less awkward when he has another reason to talk with you other than his own curiousity!

And, he can safely say he can definitely see what each of them talked about. Your words carried hidden intelligence to them, your words being softly spoken yet had a sharpness to them that only someone with a deep understanding of the topic can ever hold.

He can also see that you were sweet to the core. Just your aura alone exuded that same kindness your voice did, making him ease to you. When was the last time he had a very innocent interaction with someone, especially a woman, like this again?

Now, it was not that he villainized everybody around him. No, he knew some people who were genuinely good. But most of them were only good to him due to some sort of agenda that hid deep in their hearts. Whether it is a professional relation filled with nothing but serious countenance and formal conversations, or a more give and take relationship, one that was a bit more intimate, but not something genuine. Instead, it was all about what to receive off of pretending to be in a more personal relationship, either supposed friendship or romantic relations.

But with this, it feels so much more freeing. So much more chill and flowy, like the careless waves of the ocean. One that was there just because of mutual respect towards each other as human beings who have complex emotions and feelings.

"Thank you for the small conversation, Mr. Silva! It definitely cured my boredom in moving these boxes."

"Like I said, it's nothing, Ms. Y/n. I had fun too."

For now, there was nothing much to it. Just two people having fun talking to the other, finding the difference and similarities between the other entertaining enough for the genuine laughter.

But, who's to say this moment filled with a barrage of kaleidoscope colors is a one-off thing that can never repeat in this supposed monotonous facility?

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Y/n: *Accidentally rizzing the four World 5 members.*

Meanwhile, Y/n with Loki: You're really cute. I can adopt you too like the other 300 under boys I already adopted-

Loki: ...pardon?

I hate school so much, but your girl has to keep her honour student shebang cause why not?

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[howdoyouknowaboutgandalf]

please please for the fluff prompts, eddie munson + "your hair is really soft after you wash it"

Soft.

BestFriend!Eddie Munson x reader blurb

Word count: 637

“Eddie! Are you there?”, I call. He said I was good to come over for movie night, but he hasn’t let me in. I can’t exactly knock on the door with my hands full of tapes and snacks. “EDDIE! Open the door!”, after a few more screeches from me, I hear Eddie running from one end of the trailer to the front door. He, very dramatically, may I add, swings the door open. “I’m sorry!”, Eddie responds, looking mildly disheveled in his pajamas and wet hair. “I was just cleaning up for you sweetheart.”, he finishes with a wink. “Let me in you dork.” he promptly steps aside at my words and motions for me to come in. I set my things on the kitchen bar and turn to see Eddie with his arms wide beckoning me to give him a hug. I oblige, and his still very wet hair tickles my shoulders and sides of my face. I break away and say, “Okay you sap. Poltergeist or Halloween?”. He laughs softy before replying, “Hmm, Halloween?”. I walk to the tv with a nod, the movie in hand. Eddie moves to grab sodas from the fridge. We both finish our task and he plops down on the couch next to me with an exaggerated sigh. A few minutes pass, all the while I can feel Eddie’s big baby deer eyes burning a whole in the side of my head. “Go ahead. I know you want to.”, I say with a roll of my eyes and a (not so well hidden) hidden smile. His face lights up before grabbing a throw pillow and setting it in my lap before aggressively laying his messy haired head on it. “Ahh yes. My spot.”, Eddie says in a weird posh accent that I can’t really place. My hands almost immediately reach to mess with the ends of his still damp mane. “Can I play with your hair?”, I still want to make sure he’s okay with it, even though I have countless times. I can feel his head nod as he says, “Yes. Pet me.”. I pause for a moment, and (jokingly) respond, “I hate you. You make everything worse. I don’t even want to now.”. He laughs in response before grabbing my hand and bringing it to his scalp. I run my fingers across it, admiring him from above. The movie is over halfway done now, my hands still tangled in Eddie’s hair. “Your hair is so soft when you wash it.”, but he doesn’t say anything back. “Eddie?”, I try again. He hums this time. “I fell asleep for a minute.”, he mumbles. My mouth can’t help but turn up into a smile. “Go back to sleep Eds.”, he lets out a little whiny sound at that. “Can you stay the night?”, he asks, his voice is soft. “Yeah.”, I replied with a stroke to his head. He doesn’t move in the slightest. “Come on you big baby, you’ve gotta get off the couch to go to bed.” He whines again before rolling off of me and trudging to his bedroom, with me on his tail. He makes a pitstop at the bathroom while I make myself comfortable on one (my) side of the bed. He enters and all but flings himself on top of me before shuffling around to lay on my chest. My hands find their way back to his tresses. “Goodnight Eds.”, he has already settled, and I assume it won’t be long before he’s out like a light. I don’t expect him to respond, but he does. “Love you.”, his sleepy voice is muffled against my skin. “I love you too.”, I respond with a smile. His arms slither under my waist to hold me while he drifts off. My own sleep follows soon after.

More fluff prompts to request: https://www.tumblr.com/howdoyouknowaboutgandalf/774235908022075392/i-found-this-list-of-fluff-prompts-on-pinterest

[junixscribble]

Hexbug TM

Once again blame the server. I have no excuses for this one.

(Arcane lore + LOL Machine Herald)

Title: Hexbug TM

WC: 2029w

Summary: Jayce's constant need for revenge manifests itself into ingenuity. Very unfortunately for Viktor, Jayce has his sights set dead square on him.

--------------

Ever since setting up shop with the Machine Herald, Jayce had been getting in a few more fights. Not to the extent of his previous position as the Defender of Tomorrow (who according to the Piltover Press was on sabbatical) but more petty spats with chempunks. He had to admit that a couple of these had been started on purpose, much to Viktor’s chagrin. Viktor, in his high and mighty Herald-ness, thought petty fights were beneath him. Which is why it was such a surprise for Jayce when he walked with his arm half torn off and a hole in his side. 

“Hey, V- holy fuck! What happened?” Jayce rushed over, taking some of the weight off Viktor’s dead arm from him. 

“Some idiot decided to try and scam a child. I stepped in.”

“What’s this I hear from Mr No Unnecessary Fighting?” Jayce couldn’t help but tease, even if the hexclaw singed his hair for it. 

“This fight was necessary. Are you going to help, or stand there?” 

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get pissy. Wow, they really did a number on you huh?”

He poked into the mess of wiring that was the cavern in Viktor’s side and he squirmed away. 

“Stop that. Get me over to the table.”

The table was the one in the corner, kept clear and reserved for when one of them fucked up so badly they had to be put back together. Normally it was Jayce on the table. Viktor hauled himself up onto the table and unclasped his mask, tossing it to the side. His face was contorted in discomfort - while his modifications dulled pain, it could not remove it completely. 

“How does it look?” He asked Jayce, his tone betraying his anxiety. Jayce peered at the arm, and then into his side. 

“Hmm. The arm is only torn at the hinge, and none of the wiring broke so that will be an easy enough fix. You’ve demolished some plates on your ribs and the wiring is a mess so that will need a little more time. Jeez, what did they hit you with?”

“Death ray.” 

Jayce gave Viktor a deadpan look and Viktor raised his eyebrows. “It was purple.”

“Sure. Anyway, let's get this armour off and get you fixed.”

Once the armour was off and Viktor had laid down, Jayce pulled out a box lovingly labelled as ‘Vik’s Robo Parts’ and got to work. They kept up conversation the whole time, and Viktor admitted it took him longer to get back because he wanted to make sure the kid was looked after. Jayce should have expected as much - for the stubborn front he put up, Viktor sure had a soft spot for children. 

It took about an hour and a half of work to fix everything back up, not without complaints from Viktor.

“You’re soldering that wrong, I can feel it.”

“No, I’m not. I’m soldering it my way, which is the correct way and not your weird version.”

“Mine is superior and holds stronger. Redo it.”

Jayce sat back and put the soldering iron in its stand. “Do you want me to get the cattle prod while you're immobile here?”

Viktor glared, but couldn’t help the flush that rose to his cheeks. They had recently discovered that powerful electricity had a very different effect on Viktor than it did Jayce. It turns out that when you shock someone who has partially metal nerves, it tickles like hell. Jayce had used this incessantly when Viktor was being annoying and it pissed him off to no end, never mind the fact that Viktor himself had a bad habit of using the hexclaw to torment Jayce. When he was the victim, it was a hate crime in his eyes. 

“If you do, I will put that fun powder I made in a random set of your socks and wait for you to put them on.”

Now it was Jayce’s turn to blush. The powder referenced was an accidental concoction of Viktor’s that made the victim ridiculously sensitive to any form of touch. Getting the stuff off was bad enough, but the fastest way to dissolve the effects was to provide… certain stimulation. This war between the two had been going on for months, and at this point Viktor was winning.

Viktor huffed out a smug laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

Jayce gave him a weary look and went back to screwing the plates into Viktor’s side. He kept his face schooled as he carefully slipped a small disc under the panel without Viktor’s knowledge before screwing it closed. 

“Well, there you go. Good as new.” Jayce stood and wiped his greasy hands on a rag. 

Viktor powered half his body back on with an audible whirr, flexing his arm and feeling hte plating on his ribs. 

“Decent.”

“Just decent?”

Viktor groaned. “What do you want from me? ‘Oh Jayce, it’s the most wonderful repair ever! However may I thank you, big strong beefcake who has come to save me?’”

Jayce couldn’t help but laugh at Viktor’s ridiculous impression of himself. “Well I don’t know, that could be nice. Being called a beefcake is a plus.”

Jayce flexed his arms in jest and Viktor recoiled. 

“Forget it, I am never speaking to you again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“This time, I do.”

In the week following life went on as usual, and while Viktor did have to stitch up Jayce’s leg after someone decided to run at him with a knife it was uneventful. Which is the perfect environment for them to start pissing each other off. This time Viktor had left blueprints all over Jayce’s workstation. 

“Viktor, is it seriously that difficult to pick up after yourself?”

Viktor shrugged, not even looking at him. “My lab, my space.”

“Which you are currently sharing.”

“What did I just say? My lab.”

Jayce huffed, stashing the blueprints into the box they came out of. “You are a problem.”

“Oh, I’m a problem now? I wasn’t a problem when you ran into a knife two days ago. I even gave you lidocaine.” 

“You’re like if a tin can could speak and it was bad.”

Viktor turned to throw a piece of chalk at his head. It missed, so he turned back to his board with a grumble and realised he had in fact just thrown his last piece of chalk. Jayce could almost see the steam rising off his shoulders. 

“Jayce. My chalk, if you please.”

“Hmm… no.”

“What?”

Jayce laughed at the slightly dumbfounded look on Viktor’s face. “You chuck chalk at my face and expect me to give it back?”

Viktor started striding across the room towards him. “Motherfucker I am going to strap you down to a table and make you feel torture like you’ve never known.”

“Not if I get there first.”

Jayce jammed a hand in his pocket and closed it around a small remote, flicking the switch on the side and turning the knob up three clicks of the seven that were on it. Viktor stopped in his tracks and shrieked, falling to his knees and clawing at his side as a loud zapping noise started. He tried to speak, but Jayce turned the dial up another level and Viktor keeled over on his side, laughing. 

“JAHAYCE!”

Jayce turned the dial down to one, watching Viktor giggle and catch his breath. 

“Whahat did you dohoho?” 

“Hexbug.” Jayce said, turning the dial up and down again and making Viktor cackle. 

“Ehehe… elaborahate!”

“I made it! I took a cattle prod apart and made a little bug out of it. It can emit the same shocks that the prod does. Cool, right?”

“NohohOT COOL! Why- ahaha! Why is it insihide me?” 

“I put it there.” Jayce played with the dial, turning it up and down for fun. “And it means I can do this.”

Jayce placed his thumb on a joystick and Viktor felt something inside him move. The awful ticklish feeling was centred over a spot on his ribs, but that was now rapidly crawling down his side. The current stopped and Viktor felt tiny legs latching onto the wiring in his chest and crawling around. Viktor barely held back a yell as he fell backward onto the floor, kicking uncontrollably. Jayce knew the wires he was messing with connected to his nerves. At least if it was maintenance he could smack away his hands but this? He couldn’t exactly rip apart his own chest, no matter how badly it tickled. 

“JAHAYCE YOHOU AHAHASSHOLE!”

“Aw, does that tickle?”

The bug burrowed into a section of wiring near his spine and zapped again, making Viktor jolt. Jayce noticed the reaction and sent the bug on a fast paced adventure of his internal wiring, zapping at random intervals. This very quickly dissolved Viktor into a squirmy, hysterical mess. 

Jayce watched the carnage with a grin, turning down the voltage and piloting the little bug up Viktor’s spine until it was sitting near his central nervous controls. Viktor’s eyes widened when he felt the bug step onto the motherboard. 

“Jayce- Jahayce I don’t think you realise what this will do to me-”

“Really? Cause I think it’s gonna tickle really badly.”

The bug walked fully onto the board and Viktor made a choked noise, half a laugh in his throat already. 

“I wanna see what each voltage does here.”

 “Jayce, no!”

“Why? Is it gonna tickle?” 

Viktor felt the bug electrify and the popping noise started, along with what felt like a gentle, unbearable tickle throughout all the metal parts of his body. 

“Shihit! Ihit’s everywhehere!”

Jayce lit up like the sun, and Viktor knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth. “Wait, that translates to all the augmentations?” 

Viktor didn’t confirm, and he didn’t need to. 

“So what you’re saying is if I turn this up here it’s going to tickle all over?”

Jayce turned the dial up to level two, and he broke.

“YEHES!” 

Jayce leaned in with a grin. “Good.” 

The dial turned up to three, and then four. Viktor screamed. 

“Four… five…”

“PLEHEHEASE AHAHAHA!”

“Six…” 

“IHIT TIHIHICKLES!” 

“Aaaand seven!” Jayce counted through all the levels, paying close attention to how Viktor reacted with each one. At the highest level he could see the electricity arcing over Viktor’s body while the man thrashed on the floor, completely lost in his own frenzied laughter. Jayce let him sit through the torture for a few seconds before turning the dial back to zero and switching the remote off. 

Viktor curled into a ball on the ground, still giggling at the last zaps of the current. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“...how do you THINK?” Viktor spat, sitting up. His hair was a tousled mess and his face was flushed adorably. “You just tickled me from the inside! I didn’t even know that could be fucking done!” 

Jayce felt a little bad. Just a little. “If you hop on the table I’ll remove the bug.” 

Viktor heaved for breath and held out a hand to stop. “No, no, just leave it. I can’t be bothered going through the rigmarole. I do ask that you don’t leave it directly over my nervous system though.” 

“Oh!” Jayce started, turning on the remote again. The bug took a step and Viktor arched his back, squeaking. 

“Ah, sorry. Heh. This will tickle.” 

He carefully drove the bug down to Viktor’s side while his partner tittered, placing it somewhere he could easily access the next time Viktor took himself apart. Jayce turned off the remote and placed it on his desk. 

“You deserved that.” 

Jayce got a hexclaw middle finger in response. Viktor stood and brushed himself off.

“I hate to admit it, but I do have to hand it to you. I did not see that one coming.” 

Jayce beamed with pride, and Viktor caught his expression with narrowed eyes. 

“This is not something to celebrate, Jayce. See, now I must one up you. Prepare yourself.” 

Viktor picked up his thrown chalk and went back to his equation, leaving Jayce sweating by the desk. He had just hammered in the final nail of his own coffin. 

[lumonrecycles]

I’m just starting the third episode.

I haven’t sat down at the laptop and looked at the title sequence without my glasses on until just now.

Jaw on floor.

(Pardon the poor quality of my images here Apple won’t let me screen cap 😤)

So that’s Helly as Mark’s underinterstital fluid reflection, and as he tries to catch sight of her, she runs away and Ms Casey is his reflection for a second before she runs off and he has a proper reflection. So good so good so good.

I love that the Mr Mackey balloons have neckties for strings

Ooooo look at all those babies without faces that’s not foreboding at all

And all of it taking place on the chip with a cute little hallway etched into the glass ugh 💚

Just nestled there amongst the solcii, hmm I had always wondered how they could get by with such a like, not precise brain surgery, but maybe the chip doesn’t actually attach to anything, it it could do all its whatever it’s doing WiFi style, like it’s broadcasting waves instead of idk like directly tapping into neurons. I know this is just the title sequence but it has still made me think.

Sup with this Irving mug o trumpets? And oh look Marks reflection has no face

I love all the music in the whole show, obvi, but the waaaaaah, wahwah bass of the intro is🤌

I feel like there is a secret message on the back of marks monitor in his half head

Ok. Hellys and Gemmas balloon heads sprouting from the goat paddock. Lil innie Mark carrying his outie and vice versa. Interesting that the crawling innie Marks are on the Gemma side and outie are in the Helly side.

Fucking Kier Baby, I know he’s on that chip he’s who the three beds are for

I think it’s Helly or Gemma or Both trying to climb out of Mark’s head at the very end

Anyway. Superb. Couldn’t be happier. Well done to all involved. ✨💚💙❤️✨

Ok now I’m off to watch the episode 😅

[lokh]

also i think if roleswap laios and canon laios met theyd immediately start fighting.

[hey-heigo]

can't forget these losers. mondo n taka

mondo is the ultimate cyclist. he and his brother ran a bike shop that he wants to make the best in the world, which is not related to why he liked biking. he just likes going fast

his brother was in a biking accident. there's some rumors that mondo staged the accident so he could become the ultimate cyclist

he can't have his pompadour because of biking helmets but he dyes his hair still bc it's cool as fuck

taka is the ultimate martial artist. after his grandpa's misconduct brought shame to the family, he decided to try restoring it through the renowned sport of honorable combat

is never not thinking about focus and discipline. tries to hide his relationship to his family in contests and school so that he never wins or loses a match because of rage alone

his grades and school conduct are still really good

[god-of-this-new-blog]

“Sorry that it all went down like it did”

[sukibenders]

Intersectionality is something that, sadly, is often pushed to the side in Arcane discussions, specifically from a certain side of that fandom. They will go on and on about Viktor, as they usually do, talking about how he suffers from classicism and ableism within the show and fandom respectively (as they should as these are issues, but there is a catch when it comes to these fans as well), but when others in the fandom, especially Mel or even Sky fans, point out the racism and misogyny (misogynoir) that is often rampant in this fandom, particularly from said fans mentioned prior, all of a sudden its not possible or being overdramatized. Like they suddenly can't understand how some of their rhetoric includes or invites the same thing black fans have been calling out since the beginning, because how can you discuss the ableism and such that Viktor faces, but laugh or joke around with people who call Mel slurs or just denounce her to a trope? I thought you were for calling out forms of hate within fandom, or does your "activism" only stretch so far? And back to a previous statement, about the catch regarding those particularly fans----some of them regurgitate the same harmful rhetoric towards Viktor that they say they supposedly hate, just in mode subtle ways. How are you going to say you hate when Viktor is infantilized, but will be quick to forget he's a grown man who can defend himself (often when trying to pair him against Mel, framing her as the aggressor, and sometimes even Jayce too but to a lesser degree)? Not saying Jayce doesn't get equal amounts of hate, but his more so gets pushed aside along with his character to ultimately frame Viktor in higher regard, often making him ooc. It's like they pick and choose when the issues are prevalent, and when they aren't, and it's so frustrating.

[just-someone-online]

Had this idea for a fic where Ageha picks up on Coco's rancid vibes and tries to convince Nozomi to put some distance between them. Just, like, some gentle nudging and a little advice so as not to come off as condescending or overbearing or anything like that to Nozomi, especially since they don't really know each other that well. I doubt it would cause Nozomi to drop him all at once, but it would be the catalyst for Nozomi to start reexamining their relationship, at least a little.

[pinacoladamatata]

if they Tamlen solas' ass, that might just be IT for me

[mamawasatesttube]

thinking about putting bart in a time loop...

[chrlotpony]

thinking of sunil nighttime cuddling w his "adopted" cobra child before sleep (my oc Milks Nevla).

sunil just has the TV on playing some show he doesn't even know about but he can't change the channel or turn it off bc the remote is out of his reach and he can't move cuz then he'll wake milks up. sunils usually more strict but it was a Friday night in the middle of the month, and milks wanted to watch TV w him despite near bedtime. eventually, sunil sleeps through the background noise