#all the good ones were taken and they were the other thing I could think of

[local-demon-in-your-area]

Alright, this post has gotten super big and attracted tons of controversy and weird opinions so I thought I would clarify my position one last time :

No a militarized intervention, be it UN, US or whoever else, isn't a good idea. Bombs are never the answer, violence is never the answer, forcing an enormous change on people who's culture and ideas you don't understand is never the answer.

It seems the Malala Fund is seen as controversial for reasons that are unknown to me at the moment. In the meantime donating to Women for Afghan Women or to RAWA for those who can or want is still a good thing.

No Islam and religions aren't necessarily the problem. I am atheist myself, although raised in Christianity and while I absolutely believe that religion can be used and is used as a weapon in the world today, I do not believe that blaming them (instead of the people fostering an unsafe environment using them) is helpful.

Afghan Women don't necessarily want to live European/US women and that should not be the goal. The goal is for them to be safe, first and foremost, and have a choice as to what they want. The biggest thing that feminism can do is listen to Afghan Women. What do they need ? What can we provide ? They are the ones living in the situation, they know best than anybody.

Afghan Women being part of an Islamic culture doesn't mean that everything happening to them is normal or desired. The Taliban regime arrived by force and rules by force. Their society is not built on solid foundations, and without change it's certain that it won't last long. The problem is the damage they will do until it crumbles, and the damage that will be done while it's happening. The main victim of catastrophes are always the ones at the bottom of the social pyramid and in Afghanistan, it's Women. That's why we're fighting with them.

To clarify : I am against the very idea of a social pyramid. But because it exists, it has to be taken into account when deciding how to deal with things and how to provoke change.

I've had some wild comments about transidenty somehow so : to know if Afghan trans people are in danger, ask Afghan trans people. If you look at what witnesses and refugees are saying, all trans people are in danger. No they're not the danger. No transwomen are not just men trying to touch women by hiding as women. They face the same stigma as any other woman, and can be treated even worse when outed. How did you all decide they were the problem or that Afghan Women could just "become trans" to escape the oppressive regime like. How. Please. What the hell.

Stop being mean. I'm just a person who made a post on tumblr. This post may have gotten big but I still don't have the influence of other bloggers or people reblogging this post. I can't monitor everything. I can't even look at all the reblog because I don't have time. I can't answer everything. If you feel wronged because somebody said something in the reblogs, confront them, not me.

Once again I insist : I tried to educate myself but I can't guarantee I knew where to look and remembered it all correctly. Once again, I am just a random person on tumblr. If you think I should truly know something, you can go to my asks directly, otherwise there's a chance I won't see it. I don't know everything, be kind.

This post was made in the present tense but is in fact about the new law announced recently. Its details are unclear but it would essentially stop women from hearing each other pray (at least in public spaces) and other added things which many fear could lead to a total ban (if the details in the law don't immediately put it in action). As some have pointed out, women are currently still able to speak to each other in Afghanistan, but that may not last long.

I'm not american. Stop bringing the whole "Americans say this because they want to invade" argument, I'm not fucking American. I don't think of myself as a saviour. I don't think of myself as better. I just made a post about an info I saw that was bugging me, and needed to express just how wrong it felt somewhere. Don't assume I have or should have all the answers. I'm not even old enough to vote in my country. Keep that in mind when interacting.

This is one post out of hundreds people will see today. Yes it has an impact, but that doesn't mean it somehow makes me responsible for every single deranged idea somebody may have when seeing this. The average person will just like this post and move on with their lives, whether you think it's good or not. When interacting remember that I can't be expected to carry everything on one post's shoulder, nor that this post will somehow determine how people see Afghan Women for the next 30 years to come.

The amount of comments and people deciding that I was responsible for all of this because I made one fucking post about the subject is making me sick so. This is the last time I interact with my own post. I will stop responding or looking at reblogs and comments. I'll keep this post up because I do hope it reaches somebody who decides to donate or join local action to help but for the sake of my mental health (once again, just a random teenager online) I will not update it any longer.

And please remember that supporting local actions will always be more helpful than arguing with some strangers on the internet

This has been a psa or whatever

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't speak to each other Afghanistan

Women. Can't. Speak. To. Each. Other. In. Afghanistan.

No conversations

No hearing another woman's voice, no hearing her speak or pray

No way to share experiences no way to ask questions no way to organize

And if you ban education then they can't communicate by writing either

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't communicate with other women in Afghanistan

People can't communicate with other people

That's how low we've gotten

Please don't forget about them.

[alchemistc]

He's drunk when he sends it. Pissed because Buck won't just let this die. Tired of seeing his name flash across his screen, texts full of anger and sadness and hurt.

I suspect you've already met your last and it's not me he sends, and then turns off his phone and reaches for the bottle of whiskey on his top shelf.

---

If he'd been sober he would have known better. It's not even like it's been a pervasive thought - just an inkling at the start of things that seemed to be completely off base once he got to know everyone better, but looking back... He can see it. The built in life. The steadfast support. The knowledge that they'd always, always have each other's back. The kid who hero worshipped him.

The thing is he's fielding texts from Eddie, too, checking in and then circling around to being so goddamn judgmental that it's like they've coordinated their attacks to give Tommy no room to breathe.

He ended it to save himself from slipping so far under the surface he wouldn't make it back.

The fact that he's lost them both to his own fear is icing on the cake for the demon on his shoulder that keeps trying to remind him that once upon a time he'd fully thought Eddie and Buck were amicable exes.

---

He has to blink to figure out who's standing on his doorstep. The mustache is gone.

"If you meant who I think you mean, you're dumber than you look," Eddie says, and shoulders past Tommy before Tommy can even muster an affronted expression.

Tommy wanders after Eddie into his own kitchen, immediately annoyed that he looks more at home there than Tommy has felt in weeks. He'd gotten used to the loft - the space, the echoes, the lights of the city. The smell of his own aftershave on Buck's pillow.

They never spent much time here. The loft was closer - to Harbor, to the 118, to all the things in the city that tempted them out for a night. And staying at the loft meant he wouldn't have the echoes of Buck in every room, around every corner. (The echoes are in him, instead, and he still feels the absence like a lanced wound.) Tommy has always been good at making other people think he's good at putting distance between himself and them.

Eddie digs in a drawer, pulls out the bottle opener shaped like a cow and pops two tops. Holds one out for Tommy and scowls when Tommy wrinkles his nose at the Corona.

"Absolutely screw you if you think I'm driving halfway across town for you just to get the ones you like, right now."

Tommy can't argue that. He takes a drag and swallows. Stares. Is everyone else experiencing whiplash seeing him without the mustache? It looks fine but it'd taken so much fucking work to get used to it and now it's just gone. Clean shaven, an acre of skin he hasn't seen in months.

Tommy blinked and the entire world was different. Tommy freaked and the world changed.

"What are you doing here?"

Eddie's eyebrows both lift, a frank Are You Fucking Serious look on his face that makes Tommy want to take him to the mats and have it out in the garage instead of over beers.

"Buck may be spinning his wheels trying to figure out what the fuck you meant but I know damn well what you were implying."

That seems unlikely. Eddie always seems to be the last person to have a single clue what was going on, with Buck scraping in just before him. It's a tight race.

He used to find it charming.

(He absolutely does not still find it charming, he tells his heart, and wonders if he could hire some tiny asshole gnome to go stomp around in an atrium or two and get it to stop doing what it's doing. Fucking traitor.)

"Do you actually believe that, or is it some dumb excuse because you're terrified of being happy?"

Oh, that's fucking rich.

Tommy opens his mouth to tell him exactly that but Eddie just steamrolls right by him. "You don't have to point out the hypocrisy, jackass. I'm well aware of my own issues. Thing is - you're like, almost right. Buck does make me happy. Next to Chris there's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side, rain or shine, good or bad. I love him. He's my person."

Tommy rolls his jaw. It's not a vindication to hear it.

"Except I'm not gay, Tommy. And I don't want that. I never have. And neither does Buck, just in case that argument was about to hit the airwaves."

"How do you know?"

Something sparks in the back of Eddie's eyes. Understanding. Triumph.

"You want an itemized list or a demonstration?"

Which is when Tommy knows he's stepped into an absolute minefield. No markers. Just free balling his way through a conversation that could explode with even the slightest pressure.

Eddie's got his phone out.

None of this is ideal.

When he looks up, his eyes land squarely on Tommy, who would like in this moment to be able to curl so far in on himself he gets sucked clean through the other side. "First of all, Buck may have just been improvising his entire journey of sexuality but for once I was trying to get ahead of the curve so that whole starry-eyed newly not straight vision you have of Buck is bullshit. You let him pull you along by the shirt strings for months without pressing pause and then you freak out when he thinks his speed and your speed are the same speed?"

This is feeling a whole lot like an ambush, now.

"Did you ever even try to slow him down?"

Tommy has some choice words that aren't remotely appropriate to say to someone who is at least tangentially still his friend, so he takes another swig of shitty beer. God, this shit is awful.

"You wanna know how I know I'm not his one? How I know he's not mine?"

Tommy really, really doesn't. Honestly he'd like to kick him out.

"Because he went at our friendship at the same warp speed pace he took your relationship and it never fucking scared me."

Proof in the pudding, for Tommy. He's not the sort of jackass who actually thinks he can make a different judgement call on someone else's sexuality than the one they've made themselves, but come on.

"Shannon's been dead for half a decade," Eddie says, voice dropping so suddenly Tommy feels it like an icy draft. "And maybe one day I'll make my peace with that. Maybe one day I'll get out from under it. The point is I've lost them both and the loss wasn't the goddamn same."

"Buck came back," Tommy argues.

Eddie scoffs. Wrinkles his nose. "Jeez, he wasn't kidding about how weird that sounds." His phone buzzes on the countertop, and Tommy wonders what the hell that look on his face means. "Don't change the subject. I'm not here to talk you into anything. I'm just here to drink a beer with you and tell you how goddamn stupid it is to think that an uncertain future with Evan Buckley isn't worth every second of terror it causes you."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do."

Eddie tips the bottle against his lips. Swallows. God, why hadn't Tommy just pursued the self-proclaimed straight guy for a couple weeks before he scratched the itch somewhere else and kept a friend, instead?

"Maybe." Eddie tips his head. "Maybe I do, though. Maybe in the months and months you were invited to all my mopey nights in with Buck and all the crazy crap we end up involved in at the station and all the times you couldn't shut up about him when he wasn't around and all the times I got to see you falling ass over teakettle for my best friend, I learned a fucking thing or two about Tommy Kinard." He wags his head back and forth. "Maybe."

"Is there a point to this?"

Eddie tips his eyes to his phone, and it's probably too late at this point for the suspicion to begin to creep in.

"I mostly just came to confront you about your completely off base bullshit excuses, but there's actually a pretty simple solution to at least one of your multitude of issues, so. Now we're waiting."

Tommy doesn't like the sound of that at all.

"Chris is mad at you, by the way."

It's a distraction. It's fully a - "Why is he mad at me?"

"I should actually thank you, because it's the first time he's actively talked to me in months," Eddie continues, like Tommy hadn't asked a question. "He's pissed because Buck is sad and there's literally nothing in the world that gets a rise out of the Diaz boys like sad Buck."

"You can just say you're pissed at me and go, Eddie."

"Oh I'm angry. Don't think I'm not. Mostly I'm just sad for you. You had six months to get to know Buck and never thought to yourself 'hes going to love me and it's going to hurt' until he skipped too far ahead in the program."

And that's - kind of the final straw. He's let Eddie get his licks in. He deserves it, he knows he does. Honestly it's a little cathartic to hear - to know exactly what Buck has spent his time dissecting post-Tommy. "That's all I ever thought about. Do you think I didn't know going in? I tried to put a stop to it before it even started and he just doubled down! Do you think for a second I wasn't viscously aware that I was setting myself up for -."

No. He's not gonna say it. He's not giving that to Eddie when he couldn't even give it to Ev-Buck. When he couldn't give it to Buck.

Eddie looks victorious anyway.

"And for six months you thought it was worth it."

"For six months I was too much of a coward to stop thinking about it."

Eddie drains the rest of his beer. "I'm not gonna lie. You screwed up pretty bad. Like. Astronomically bad. Giving up your location in a firefight bad."

Tommy does everything he can not to wince.

"It's salvageable, though. If you want it to be. If there's anything I know about Buck it's that second chances are his bread and butter." He's been dancing around saying anything of substance about Buck's feelings, in all of this, but the hints are there. As if the bouts of angry-depressive texts from Buck weren't clue enough.

"And what if it's not what I want?"

Eddie's eyes dart to his phone one more time. "Then you can make it a clean break in about ... three and a half minutes."

Tommy nearly tosses his beer across the room.

[cobaltperun]

Tara who has a crush on the cute barista reader??? Love your fics

5 Times You Made Coffee and 1 Time You Didn't

(Request) Tara Carpenter x GN! Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

Tara knew she should have been more careful, she knew she should have been cautions of every stranger. First Amber and Richie, then Quinn and Ethan, and she shivered at the very thought if how many times Sidney got betrayed and targeted.

But you were so cute. With that smile, standing out from all the polite smiles of the other barista. And you made perfect coffee, so perfect she now made it her mission to bring as many people, which admittedly and given her social circle wasn't all that many, to your coffee shop when it was your shift.

This time she was here with Mindy, after a long day of classes. "Good afternoon," you smiled at Mindy and then turned toward Tara. "Tara," your already warm smile widened and she almost thought she didn't even need coffee after the burst of energy she got just from seeing you.

"Hey, Y/N," she smiled back at you, hoping her crush wasn't that obvious.

“The usual?” you asked her and she nodded, you’ve been making a cappuccino for her for weeks now and it didn’t take you long to figure out that was her coffee of choice. “And for you?” you turned to Mindy.

“Could I get an espresso?” Mindy asked and you nodded.

“Right away,” you backed away and Tara looked down, blushing at Mindy’s questioning look.

“Spill it, T,” Mindy demanded and pointed at you in the most obvious way. “You have a crush on them and it’s visible from a plane.”

She didn’t have to put it like that. “I just think they are cute,” she didn’t deny her crush. “I just have a good feeling about them, you know?” and she knew a good feeling wasn’t enough anymore, but she had to believe it would be enough this time.

Mindy opened her mouth but then changed her mind and instead just hummed. “Let’s judge their coffee making skills first, you’ll be needing someone who can get your coffee just right,” Mindy grinned and Tara was happy Mindy was the first to find out about you. She knew Chad had a bit of a crush on her, and Sam was… well, Sam, she was protective.

“It’s better than just right,” she assured her of your skills, that was the one thing she couldn’t deny no matter what. You got it just right when she first tried it, and she just asked for a pinch of cocoa powder the second time and since then the cappuccino you made her was flawless.

Before her and Mindy could even start talking you came with their coffees and Tara reached for her wallet. “It’s taken care of,” you winked at her and walked over to the other table before she could say anything. Tara watched you, speechless, as she always was when you just told her the coffee was on the house.

Somehow, she was sure it had nothing to do with your parents owning the place. You would have treated her even if you just worked there.

“You weren’t kidding, they know how to make coffee,” Mindy commented as she took a sip of her espresso.

“Mhm,” she agreed absentmindedly, still paying attention to you.

“Classes weren’t really all that bad today,” Mindy commented, prompting yet another ‘mhm’ from Tara. You were preparing a coffee with utmost care, and there was definitely a reason why Tara kept sitting at this exact spot. It was easy to sneak glances your way from her seat.

“The Babadook sucks,” Mindy said and she once more agreed before Mindy snapped her fingers right in front of Tara’s face.

“Earth to Lover Girl, can you at least pretend we’re not here so you can make googly eyes at your crush?” Mindy was stuck between being amused and annoyed.

“Fine, fine, what did you just say?” she asked but Mindy just stuck her tongue out and Tara rolled her eyes. From the corner of her eyes she caught you smiling at her as you dried a glass you just washed.

About an hour later Tara approached you with the coffee cups. “Thank you, they were amazing, as always,” she told you as you reached over the counter to take them.

“Could I interest you in trying some other coffees? Only drinking cappuccino will make it taste bland over time,” you suggested and gestured at the chair near the bar. “Might be a good way to get to know each other, assuming I’m not misinterpreting things, of course,” you looked confident, but there was a small hint of shyness in your gaze. As if you’ve been trying to ask her this for some time now.

“Sure, I’ll leave my coffee order in your hands,” she accepted a bit too eagerly and you grinned together.

~X~

The next time she came to the coffee shop she sat down close to you, alone and eager to see what you had in mind for the first coffee testing, as Tara dubbed it.

“I’m all yours, barista,” she winked at you, not entirely catching on to what she just said.

You took it like a champ though, not even flinching at the potential double meaning as you prepared her coffee and Tara would love to say she could follow what you were doing but there was a reason she was desperately reliant on a coffee machine or shops like this one. Eventually you placed a small glass in front of her.

“Ristretto, comes from Italy, basically a stronger espresso. Same amount of coffee, in half the water,” it was early in the morning and she did have a long day ahead of her.

She nodded and brought the glass closer to her.

“So, how come you are a barista? I mean, besides your parents owning the place?” Tara asked, not yet ready to drink the coffee and be on her way.

You leaned over the counter. “Coffee is a bit of a passion for me, I love making it, and trying different variations,” you replied and she could see the honesty in your eyes.

Being passionate about coffee wasn’t what she expected but somehow, given how good you were at making it, she immediately believed it.

“I’m happy you can pursue your passion,” when was the last time she could pursue her own passions without looking behind her shoulder?

“It helps that I get to meet beautiful girls, like your friend last week,” you smirked, teasing her slightly.

She tried the coffee, and it was definitely strong, but there was some sweetness to it. “And what am I?” she chose to be bold, leaning slightly closer to you as she asked that.

You moved your hand until it was right next to her and offered it to her, and she accepted, putting her hand on top of your own. “You, Tara, are more than just beautiful.”

“Real smooth, Y/N,” she snickered but she would be lying if she said the compliment didn’t feel nice.

~X~

“Something lighter this time,” the moment Tara stepped into the coffee shop you placed a coffee cup at her newfound place at the bar.

“Am I that predictable?” Tara asked, actually slightly concerned about it. If you could time making the coffee for her after only knowing her for a short period of time. Could someone intending to hurt her learn her patterns this easily?

“Every single morning at 9:27 you walk through those doors,” you shrugged and she figured she unconsciously did start doing that.

She still rolled her eyes and sat down at her seat. She looked at her coffee.

“Café au lait, French this time. Coffee with warm milk,” you explained, correcting her assumption that it was just regular white coffee.

“You’re the expert,” she smiled and tried the coffee, and the only thing that crossed her mind was that she should have gotten you to experiment with her coffee taste sooner. “I swear I only tolerated coffee, but you’ll make me love it,” she sighed, almost dreamily at the light taste.

“That’s the idea,” you grinned but unlike last time when you could stay and chat with her, this time the coffee shop was busy, and you had to do your job. You still had the time to ask her about how her day went yesterday and how she did on the exam she had.

And it made her feel like her heart would lean out of her chest.

~X~

It took some time before you offered her a new coffee. You liked surprising her with new coffees randomly and over that period of time you met both Chad and Sam, both meetings went surprisingly well.

Tara had a gut feeling she would be trying a new coffee today as she walked into the coffee shop and saw you heating up water in some thin and tall pot. “Hey, Tara,” you said without turning to look at her and she leaned over the bar to watch you work. “Come over to this side,” you invited her and she happily rushed to your side. She just now realized this was the closest the two of you were, even closer than when you would bring her coffee to the table. So, instead of turning into a tomato, she focused on what you were doing. You added ground coffee to the boiling water and soon enough it began frothing.

“Watch out!” she exclaimed out of habit, but you just grinned and lifted it up, before lowering it back onto the stove and Tara watched as the coffee began frothing again.

“Trust the process,” you told her and lifted it again just as it reached the top of the pot and then did it again one last time before pouring it into two porcelain coffee cups. “Try it without sugar at first, then add it if you need to,” you said and placed cups in front of the chair next to your own. You patted the spot next to you and Tara hopped onto the chair, happy to be sharing coffee with you for the very first time.

“Which one is this?” she asked, the strong scent immediately woke her up, and while it was bitter it had a taste just as strong as the scent. It was bitter enough that she needed to add a bit of sugar to it.

“Turkish, you saw the process, and that,” you pointed at the thin and tall pot. “Is most often called a cezve,” you explained and took a sip of the coffee, clearly enjoying yourself.

Tara smiled, leaning a bit closer to you, enjoying the warmth of the coffee and your presence.

~X~

“Caffè mocha!” she knew this one, she never really went out of her way to try it, but she knew it, and she was proud to show you she could name what you just made for her.

“Mhm,” you were drinking with her behind the counter again, as it was a habit you seemed to develop ever since you made that Turkish coffee for her. “Figured you deserved something sweet for getting an A on that exam,” you nudged her lightly and she grinned, all happy and proud.

“You know it,” she looked at you and felt ready to finally take that next step. In fact, she’s been trying to get herself hyped up to say it since your meeting with Sam went well. “Say, Y/N,” she began and cleared her throat.

“Yeah?” your full attention was on her, made possible by lack of customers at the moment and Tara thanked whatever higher being arranged for that to happen.

“I want to make coffee for you,” she said and you raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her offer. “Come and hang out at my place? I mean, Sam will be there because she is really protective, but uh, yeah, come to my place,” she stopped herself before she could start rambling.

“I’d love that,” you said and that was when her luck ran out, as a customer came into the coffee shop and you had to go and get his order. “I’d absolutely love that,” you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and Tara pumped her fist and cheered quietly, much to your amusement.

~X~

You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous; after all a beautiful girl just invited you to her apartment. Granted with her older sister present as well, but she did invite you. You looked up at the building in front of you, it was almost daunting with how many floor it had and as far as you knew there were no elevators and Tara lived on the top floor. You still had no idea why, or why Sam was as protective of Tara as she was.

You understood older sibling protectiveness, but Sam took it to the next level.

“I can do this,” you hyped yourself up and typed in the code Tara gave you. The heavy metal doors opened, and you stepped in, beginning the long journey up the stairs. Well, at least this was a good test to see if you were still in shape. And it turned out you were still in good shape! Which was great because otherwise you would have had a lot of troubles keeping your heart rate normal. Your heart was already beating faster than it should just because you were about to meet up with Tara but that was beside the point, at least you didn’t have to worry about whether you were or weren’t in shape. You reached the door of her apartment and took another deep breath. “I can do this,” you whispered to yourself, and you checked the flower bouquet and the box of chocolates you brought. Frankly speaking, you may have dressed to impress a bit too much, but knowing Tara she would find it endearing.

At least you hoped she would.

You were just about to knock when the door suddenly opened and you were met with the girl you had a crush on for the past several weeks. Could the ground beneath your feet just open and swallow you whole? This was too embarrassing! “Oh, hi!” you stammered embarrassed as she caught you in front of her own doors like a dumbass who couldn't even get the courage to knock on the doors of the girl that invited them in herself.

“Hi,” she blushed and looked down and you found yourself thinking she looked so adorable like this. And then you both just laughed because you were both ridiculously shy about this. All that confidence you had back at the coffee shop was seemingly gone, as it was blown away by the wind blowing around the building. “Oh, shit, sorry, come on in!” Tara seemed to realize she was blocking your entrance and stepped aside letting you come in and join her inside.

“Right, thank you for having me,” you cleared your throat and gave her the flowers and the box of chocolates. “Uh, this is for you. I didn't know what you liked so I just went with the cliche option,” you nervously rubbed the back of your neck as heat rushed to your cheeks. Tara smiled and took it from you, and her fingers brushed against your own.

“Thanks, I love it,” and so you went inside followed her to the living room where Sam was already waiting.

“Hello, Sam,” you nodded, greeting her and she nodded back.

“Come on sit down, I won't bite,” Sam smiled kindly at you and gestured towards the sofa “Tara's been really nervous about impressing you, just so you know,” her words cause Tara to adorably blush once more.

“Sam please,” the younger Carpenter sister groaned and seemed to make herself even smaller than she was and then she just pointed toward what you assumed was the kitchen. “I’m just going to go and make coffee.”

Unlike you, she had a way to flee.

But that meant you would be alone with Sam.

“Wait! Do you need help? You know, since I am a professional and all that,” you were grasping at straws, pleading for mercy, because anything would be better than being along with Sam. Even all these weeks after you met her she still made you nervous. Tara seemed to relax at seeing you were just as nervous as she was, if not more and she laughed patting you on the back.

“I think I can handle myself,” well, as long as she felt better you figured you could take some teasing. Resigning to your fate you just sighed and sat down as Tara left you and Sam alone.

“So, what are your intentions with my sister?” Sam asked without a hint of joking, she was completely serious, and you choked on air, only to then hear her chuckling. “Relax I'm just messing with you. Let's just wait for Tara to come back with coffee.”

Well, that was a relief. So, you sat there in silence, and you had a feeling this was only awkward for you, from the looks of it for Sam it was more amusing slash comfortable. Finally, after way too much time, Tara came back with three coffee mugs and she sat down next to you. You recognized the smell the moment she stepped into the living room and you couldn’t describe how happy you were.

“I've been practicing,” she confessed and it showed because the coffee smelled wonderful.

“Cortado,” you would recognize the scent anywhere and she, from the looks of it, did it perfectly.

Tara smacked her forehead in frustration “Damn, I was sure you wouldn't guess it. Guess that’s a pro for you,” she, clearly still annoyed, handed a twenty dollar bill to a rather satisfied Sam.

“It's one of my favorites actually,” you confessed and her eyes widened at that.

“So how come you never made it for me?” she sounded offended as if something special between you just became a tiny bit less special.

“It's not on the menu, and well I like to keep this one for special people. And in private, can't have customers smelling this and asking about it,” you shrugged and took the sip of the coffee. You were right, it really was perfect, even more so since Tara was the one who made it for you.

“Fine, you goofball, but you're making it for me next time. At your own apartment,” you could work with that even if Sam nearly choked when Tara said that.

[asgardianechoes]

Spilled Secrets

Loki x Reader Fluff

Summary: You secretly like Loki, but you’re kind of upset he doesn’t know… until he finds out.  

Word Count: 3.2k

It wasn’t hard to fall for him. Humor, charm, high cheekbones… he has it all. From his silver tongue to his raven hair, you adored every aspect. Despite his misdeeds, he was undeniably hot. He held himself royally, always maintaining an air of nobility. One meeting with him had you hooked on him, unable to let go or think of anything else.

‘He lives free rent in my mind’, you told Natasha one day in the living room of the Avengers Headquarters. Apart from Pepper, she and Wanda were the only ones you could do Girl Talk with. ‘I don’t know how to tell him.’

She looked at you sympathetically, taking your hand in her own. She had known of your crush since the day you started liking him. The radio played in the background, informing of some good weather, but neither of you noticed, both too concentrated on your current dilemma. Lovesickness had never been a significant issue to you before… until he came along.

‘He stole my heart… and yet he acts oblivious,’ you ranted on. Natasha looked up, smiling softly. She stroked your hand with one finger absent-mindedly as she listened intently.

‘He’ll get there. Or maybe,’ a small smirk tugged at her lips as she looked back up at you, ‘he already knows; he might just be toying with you just to see how long you’d last.’

You nudged her with your hand, a faint red hue coming over your face. He wouldn’t… right?

‘I mean-’, she pressed on, ‘it’s a very typical thing of him to do, don’t you think?’ She scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your back soothingly. ‘Playing with others’ feelings… I honestly don’t think it would take him that long to figure out that you like him. It’s really obvious.’

‘You’re not helping,’ you replied, looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to locate him through the walls. Nevertheless, you smiled softly at her teasing. She was always there for your small talks. After a while, you lowered your gaze back to your lap, reality sinking in and you felt the joy leaving you.

‘But what if he doesn’t? What if he genuinely doesn’t know?’ you mumbled in front of you, pulling your knees up and wrapping your arms around them. Once again, tears threatened to fall as you buried your face in them, softly mumbling to yourself. The fabric of your pants absorbed the salty droplets, leaving a dark spot there. You were audibly sniffing now. You felt her hand move up and down your back again, her words only muffled sounds. At some point she led you back to your room, leaving you to yourself for the rest of the night.

The next day you went over to the library. The Avengers had quite a big one, it filled the entire floor. Rows upon rows of shelves lined the walls and the spaces in between, the scent of paper floating in the air. You stopped at the sign that indicated where the romance-fiction stories were. If only my life was as nice as one of those, you thought, pulling a roman out of the shelf and reading the back of it intently. If only I could live in a life like that.

Sitting down at the table, you put down the book you’d taken out. Not gonna lie, you were in no interest in reading it. There was no need for you to get jealous over another made-up story. To pass time, you grabbed a scrap piece of paper and started doodling. Only the lines that the lead left only spelled one word, over and over again: Loki. You wrote his name all over the place, sideways, in cursive, in bold letters. Maybe it was because you were so concentrated that you didn’t hear the library door opening.

‘Oh, I see that I’m not the only one in need of something to do,’ a voice said, startling you. You quickly covered the scribbled paper with another blank sheet, looking over your shoulder. Thor was standing there with a load of books in his arms.

‘My dear brother decided to make me run errands,’ he explained cheerfully, certainly not getting the nervousness etched in your face. You nodded, looking down. What you would do to make Loki make you run his errands. ‘You alright?’ His voice brought you back to reality.

‘What? Oh. Yeah, I’m alright. Just… in need of something to do, like you said,’ you managed a small smile that was somewhat realistic. He just smiled and continued putting books back on shelves. Your eyes followed every single book as he put them back. Loki held these maybe even moments ago, you thought. If only I were a book he’d like to read.

Sometime later, he looked over to you again and asked: ‘Are you working on anything? Because that paper tells me you aren’t doing what you want to do.’ You picked up the two pieces of paper and replied a little too fast: ‘Oh, yeah, I just have to write something for Stark, nothing big.’ You held the papers a little more firmly in your hand. When he asked to proofread it, you declined immediately. Mumbling something about not being done, you put them back down, bending over it and pretending you were thinking about what to write. Shrugging, Thor left, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. But your relief didn’t last long; a few moments later, another person came in, and this time it was none other than the god of mischief himself. Strutting through the rows, you heard him pulling books out and putting them back in, as if none of the ones he found were worth his attention. Eventually he spoke up.

‘Why the tenseness? Is it your time of the month?’ he asked coyly. He turned the corner and looked at you. Your gaze dropped almost instantly to the ground. ‘No, I’m just…,’ you said, picking your papers up again, ‘just a little tired. Couldn’t sleep.’

His eyebrows raised as he looked away to the opposite bookshelf. ‘Is that so…?’ he mumbled, more to himself than to you, ‘hmm.’ You couldn’t tell if he knew you were lying or not but he sure seemed to deem you amusing. After a small pause he continued. ‘I would’ve thought someone like you would know that lying to me is futile.’

You froze. Of course you knew that, but how could you ever tell him the truth of your stiffness? He’s the prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, a regal character, not some random guy you can just find on the streets. ‘Yes, of course. How could I not know that?’

He narrowed his eyes, his signature smirk widening. He walks up to you, his eyes boring into yours. His gaze fell upon the papers you held in your arms, a questioning look crossing his face.

‘Just… just a report I’m supposed to write,’ you lied for the second time, and he didn’t let that go unnoticed. He tilts his head, his eyes asking are you really going to do this? Because there won’t be a nice ending if this continues. He doesn’t say anything about it though, just nods slyly and walks away.

He pulls a further book of the shelf, inspecting it. Seemingly satisfied, he scanned it and left the library, letting the emptiness envelop you. You uncovered the paper filled with his name, unshed tears threatening to fall. Will he ever know…? Will he ever acknowledge my feelings for him?

You return to your room afterwards, attempting to bury your feelings down a deep grave. You sulked until night fell upon the busy city. Deciding to take a shower, you went to get some fresh clothes for the night. Soon enough, warm water was splattering down your body, warming your sore and mentally broken body.

When you came back out of the shower and entered your living room again, you found an unexpected guest. Loki was sitting in your armchair, reading a magazine. His eyes darted to you the moment you stepped into the chamber. You fumbled with your nightshirt pockets, unsure of what to do.

‘What, uh, brings you to my place at this hour?’ you tried, testing the waters. He doesn’t reply, instead he slowly puts the magazine down, his eyes never leaving yours. He shortens the distance between you, every step making your heart beat faster. When he finally stopped around a foot away from you, you looked down, unable to look at him properly. He was too much, too dazzling for your poor, tragic eyes.

‘I think we both know why I’m here,’ he says, tilting his head, eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t breathe, your breath running short. His aura surrounded you like a cage, keeping you trapped in his gaze. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ you replied quietly to the floor. He lifted your chin and forced you to look him in the eye, his face inches from yours. ‘Do not lie, little minx. I know what your problem is. You suffer from lovesickness. There’s a man you love so dearly that you can’t stop thinking about him.’

You shoved him away the moment these words left his mouth. You couldn’t, couldn’t stand his breath on your face, couldn’t stand how close he was to you. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ you said, using indifference to cover up your shaking voice, ‘I do suffer from that. What has that got to do with you coming over?’

He scoffed softly, ‘Oh, darling, that has everything to do about me coming over. I imagine I can relieve you of your… dilemma.’ Your heart skipped a beat, hoping he didn’t mean what you thought he meant. You just shook your head, looking away. ‘You wouldn’t understand…’ you said, hoping he’d stop clawing at your secrets. But he smiled, nodding slightly and does the utter opposite of what you hoped. ‘Oh really? Because I have a very different opinion about that.’

Please leave, you thought as he said this, praying to the gods, please stop killing me like this… another minute with you will break me. But his next words proved that your prayers were ignored.

‘I’m the lucky guy.’

I’m the lucky guy.

These words seemed to echo in your head. So he knew. He knew about your helpless case. And he knew he was at the center of it. All this time. Or maybe just since today. But who cares. He knows. And your secret’s spilled. In a terrifying way.   

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You closed it again, looking anywhere but at him. In the end you settled with staring at his knees, which are pretty much where your eyes land when you look down. You were freaking out, your heart hammering in your chest. You needed to be alone. Right. Freaking. Now.

‘You know what?’ you said, your voice quivering, ‘I’m going to bed.’ You turn around and began marching with determination towards your bedroom door. Loki seemed slightly stunned, catching your shoulder just in time and called after you with worry in his tone: ‘Where are you going? You shouldn’t just leave me hanging, we should – need – to talk about this-‘

‘No, we won’t,’ you said, refusing to turn around and face him. Gods, if you stayed any longer tears would fall. ‘We shouldn’t, because we’re not-‘ she broke off, the words lost in her throat. Going to work out well was what she wanted to say, but she just couldn’t – wouldn’t – bring these words over her lips. Instead, she shook her head again and marched further away. Your sanctuary was so close… so close… But his next words brought you to a halt again.

‘Jumping to conclusions won’t help, Y/n,’ he said with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Due to her lack of response, he pressed further, ‘Is that why you never tried to communicate with me? Why you so desperately avoided my presence? Because you feared that no matter what you did, the worse-case scenario would always happen? Talk to me, Y/n.’ His words hung in the air, thickening it. Tears welled up in her eyes, her mind reflecting on all the break-up and mocking scenarios her imagination had come up with. She whipped around, trying to keep her tears from falling.

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what it feels like. You have-‘ she broke off again, a shuddering breath replacing the words she was about to say. You have no reason to love me. Not a single one. Tears began to fall as this thought formed in your head. The same one that brought you to tears every time. Every. Damn. Time.

He stayed silent, staring at the thin streams flowing down your face. Unable to bear the silence, you ran back to your room, slamming the door behind you. The moment it fell into place, the streams on your cheeks became rivers, and soon enough you were a sobbing mess on the floor. You were sure Loki could hear them through the door, but at that moment you didn’t care. He had no reason to love you, to care about you, or to even be here, in your living room, standing, stunned, in front of your bedroom door.

Loki felt a sudden pang of sadness when he heard your sobs. Looking down and deciding that it’s a bad time, he leaves, shutting your door quietly.

You didn’t remember how long you’d sat there, crying, on the floor. The only thing you do remember that is that at some point, you dragged yourself into bed and cried yourself to sleep. The next morning came in the blink of an eye, the bright sunlight waking you up. For a split second everything was fine. No worries, no problems, no nothing. But then it all came back to you and the feeling of eternal bliss was stripped from you faster than you wanted it to be.

As you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, you saw something that certainly wasn’t there the night before. A small folded card was propped up against your brush on your nightstand, and your heart skipped a beat when you recognised Loki’s smooth handwriting. There was only one word on the cover: your name. Picking it up like a grenade, you opened it, expecting to see something that went along the lines of ‘I’m sorry, that’ll never happen again,’ but only found one line of words inside it.

‘Come over to my room.’

You blinked.

Come over to my room.

You read through that line a good five times before the meaning got into your brain, although the cogs in your head were still trying to sort this out. Loki – like, God of mischief and destroyer of New York Loki – was inviting you to enter his private chambers? Was this a joke? Was he trying to hype you up just to break you back down?

As much as you’d like to deny it, that order was a lot more appealing than it should be. You desperately wanted to see him again, even if it meant you could be broken. So after a moment of internal debating, you concluded that you will go pay him a visit, and will see what the hell he wants. Putting on some clothes, you set off to his room.

You half expected him to swing the door open and yank you inside when you knocked, but instead some green light shimmered and formed the words: Door is unlocked. Starting to get creepy now, you thought, gathering up your courage and pushing the door open.

The moment you stepped a foot into his room, a hand grabbed your waist and spun you around. Next moment you felt soft lips pressed against yours. Your breath hitched when you figured it was Loki’s. You didn’t have time to register what was going on, everything was happening so fast. So you did the one thing you could do: melt into his touch.

Once the shock has subsided, it felt a lot better than what you expected in your fantasies. His lips were so soft, so loving as they kissed you, sweetly asking for you to open your mouth. His tongue delved into it, tangling itself with yours, licking and flicking and who knows what tricks.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, his blue eyes gazing into yours. You blushed, looking at the floor, suddenly realising what you two just did. Stumbling over your own words, you said: ‘That was… umm…’

He hummed in response, his hands never leaving your waistline. Your face must’ve been as red as a tomato when you spoke up again. ‘Nice of you…’

He put on a mock hurt look. Pulling you closer, he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. ‘Is that all? After this wonderous surprise I’ve prepared that bested all other ones?’

You shrugged, unable to speak. He was killing you, like before… but this time in a sweet way. You mumbled something about being ‘sorry for last night’, but he shushed you almost immediately.

‘There’s no need for that,’ he said, patting your head, ‘No need to be sorry. I know I went a little to sudden.’

He pulled back to look at you. His eyes searched your body, as if trying to print it into his head. Your arms creeped up his neck, wrapping themselves securely around it. You stared as he breathed heavily into your face, a scent of mint filling your nose.

‘Did you like, eat a mint this morning?’ you asked shyly. He chuckled, swinging you into his arms, causing you to instinctively cling onto him. You gave him an angry look, burying your face in his neck. ‘Just for you, my love.’ You were suddenly happy he couldn’t see your face. He could probably feel the heat radiating off it, though.

‘So… are we a thing now?’ he asked, walking towards the couch and sitting down, you now in his lap. ‘Or what do you Midgardians call it… a couple?’ You nodded in agreement, making yourself comfortable in his arms. He absent-mindedly stroked your hair, admiring the way it shimmers slightly in the dim light.

‘For how long did you know?’ you asked him, grabbing his free hand and playing with it like a toddler. He thought for a moment, then said: ‘Most likely since a month ago. I was originally waiting for you to make the first move, but… you seemed too nervous to. That’s why I decided to come to your room last night.’

You gaped as he said that. A freaking month. No, we’re not talking about a week or two, he’s known for a MONTH. You’ve only crushed on him for like what, two months? He smirked as he saw your expression. ‘You kept looking at me now and then. And you always freaked out when you were within three meters of me.’

You shoved him playfully, pulling his hand up so it was right over your heart. You leaned into his touch, and for the first time since hours, you were glad he made the first move.

Hope y'all enjoyed it!!!

(Guys it's my first official tumblr storyyyyyy)

Tagging: @vbecker10 @mischiefmaker615 @simplyholl

Tell me if you want to be part of my taglist!

[soo0hee]

In the Middle of the Night...

Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x afab!Reader

Summary — One year after the snap your life finally is going back to normal again and with insomnia and nightmares plagueing your sleep, you do things you usually wouldn't. Thankfully a little spider is ready to swoop in...

Genre — angst, a hint of fluff, SpidermanAu

Warnings — Depression, mentions of ED, mentions of suicide, alcoholism, guns, mentions of kidnapping, sexuall assault, panic attacks, tell me if i missed sumn

Word Count — 2.8k

Rating — NSFW

A/N — Spidey!Hannie is here my babes, wifes and loves! @tusswrites @tomodachiii @svtiddiess @welcometomyoasis @diamonddaze01

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

You knew that it wasn't a good idea to leave your apartment at ass o'clock in the morning, if it could even be called that already. Most citizens of Seoul were dead asleep at this hour.

Most, but not you. Not when the nightmares of losing your loved ones were still plaguing you to this day. Making it impossible to sleep even now, 5 years later and with everyone who had vanished with the snap coming back again.

5 years of surviving as what you had done could not be called living.

You remembered the screams on the street of people vanishing into dust or of those who had to watch those they loved disappear. You could still feel how the hand you were holding was suddenly gone and you turned around just to witness the horrified look of your baby sister as she to turned to dust.

You felt your throat hurting as you screamed terrified just like half of the earths population and only when things had settled a bit where you able to drag yourself home feeling numb and like you had no joy left in your body just to find everyone gone.

Only your mother was left behind, sobbing in the ruins that had once been the living room of your familys home. They were all gone. Your father, brother, sister and even your beloved cat. It was only you and your mother left. Until the day you came home from your job only weeks later to find that she had left you too.

The blood on the kitchen floor had already started do dry as it seemed to cover every single tile it could reach. The missing knife on the counters cooking block and the metallic smell hanging in the air had burned itself into your memory.

Alone, mourning the disappearance of your family and your missing best friend Jeonghan you fell into a hole that swallowed you and held onto your being with sharp claws.

5 years of missing different puzzle pieces of yourself that left you wondering if you would ever be okay again.

Inclined to ignore the knock on your new apartments door you stayed on the couch with your cloths looking like they had been worn for weeks, which at that point was probably true and you desperately needing a shower and proper meal. But the knocking had been insistent and annoyed you threw your blanket to the floor, almost tripping over multiple take out boxes as you marched over to the door. The peephole was covered from the outside so you were unable to see who it was.

Growling out a curse that got stuck in your throat as soon as you saw who had been covering the peephole with his finger.

Jeonghan, still slightly out of it after having been brought back and having been explained what had happened had immediately went to your old home just to find a creepy stranger who looked like he had been nursing on one whiskey bottle after the other. Determined to find you again to see if you were okay, it had taken him a few days do find you and when he finally did, all he could think about was you. From his friends he already knew that you hadn't vanished after the snap just like they had warned him about the state he might find you in, yet when the door opened Jeonghan felt like he had been punched in the guts.

His best friend, the person he'd do anything for, looked like an empty shell of e person she used to be. It was obvious that the last years have not been kind to you and it took everything in him not do cry for the happy girl you used to be. The light in your eyes was gone, your hair a giant mess and even underneath the hoodie you were wearing, a hoodie he was 100% sure had once been his, he could see that you had drastically lost weight.

Jeonghan had barely caught the door as you slammed it shut or at least tried to before running to hide in the bathroom. He listened to the hysteric crying for maximum 2 seconds before breaking down the door after having heard the shattering of a mirror, scooping you into his arms as you begged for the hallucinations to finally stop torturing your mind.

He didn't mind the blood spilling from your bare knees as you sat in between the mirror shards littering the ground as he fought against you while you fought against him and the demons you were seeing in your terror and only when he forced your face to look at him did you finally give in, finally believing him when he promised that it really was him and not your mind playing tricks on you.

God, just how many times had you seen him when in reality he had still been gone?

Until you had calmed down, hours had gone by when you had passed out from exhaustion right into his arms and for you to get better it had taken much longer.

That was 1 year ago and so far, things were going ok. Telling your family about the tragedy that happened while they were gone had put a strain on all of them and while everyone was trying to live with this new reality, distance had grown larger then you thought possible. But they were back, and that was enough for you.

Now though, you were suffering another night of insomnia so you had grabbed your phone and started your journey to Jeonghans place.

Seoul at 3 am was not your favorite place and walking past dark alleyways gave you slight serial killer movie vibes. Tightening your hold on your phone you dialed Jeonghans number, hoping you wouldn't wake him up.

"Hello there, sunshine! Why are you awake?" your friends far to awake voice rang through the speaker.

"You know, I could ask you the same thing." You countered and earned a huff from the other.

"Yahh, at least I'm in bed unlike a certain someone, right?" he answered just as the honking of a car was much closer on his side of the line then it could be if he was in bed.

"Didn't know that your bed is out on the streets now..." you called him bluff. "I'll be at your place in 15, you know."

There was a moment of silence on his side.

"Wait, you're outside? y/n! It's 3 am! That's so dangerous!" Jeonghan whisper yelled and you faltered a little in your steps, unsure if you should continue your way.

“Sorry... I just couldn't sleep again and-"

You looked around yourself, suddenly feeling like you were being watched.

"Please, go home. Try for me! I'll be over in a bit but please go home!" His voice was urgent in a way you had never heard before. It made you nervous.

"I'm already at the sandwich place not that far and-" You were silenced when you rounded the corner, starring right into the barrel of a gun. The men in front of you, 3 in total were covered in black, guns ready to be used in their hands.

"Gimme the phone darling!" the one pointing his weapon at your face snapped. Fear took a hold of you and with shaking hands you did as told. Jeonghans paniked voice rang through the speaker, having heard what has been said on the other side.

"Not your night it seems like." One of the others cackled at your misery.

The third one grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you along into one of the alleyways while completely ignoring your struggles against his hold.

"No, please let me go! I didn't see anything and I-" you begged, voice wavering as you were pushed against a wall.

"Pull of your shirt."

No. No, this wasn't happening. Or was it?

Apparently you were taking to long.

"I said, take. It. Off!"

You whimpered and reached for the zipper of your jacket. The cold air making you shiver when you exposed yourself to the night and reached for the hem of your shirt. "Please don't do this. Let me go home and you can leave too and-" Pain shot through you as you got struck across the face by the gun.

"Shut up and lose the shirt, bitch."

“Now I do have to ask, is that a way to talk to a lady? Did your mother not teach you any respect!”

3 heads + yours flew around only to find…

Nothing.

“Up here, pabo-ya.”

The heads flew up and came face to face with Seouls very own friendly neighbor hood spider.

He was hanging of the side of the building, head tilted to the side and web attached to the building.

“Fuck off Spiderboy. This is our business and not your’s.” the one with the gun growled annoyed and you could hear the sound of dissatisfaction when the hero jumped down to land on the ground.

“We agree to disagree; is that the way to talk to a lady? Seriously guys, you are not exactly being gentlemen here.” The red masked guy taunted happily as he took two steps closer, causing the other 3 to build a barrier between you and him.

You frantically looked to the side, hoping to find something you could use to defend yourself while Spiderman distracted them enough for you to reach for the pipe laying not to far away. You probably would even have noticed if they weren’t busy trying to scare the uninvited guest off.

The 3 gangsters were pissed, you could hear that even with having heard only half of what was being said and just when the first gun shot rang through the alley, you reached for the pipe you had eyed before.

The sound the metal made when it collided with the mans head that was closest to you would have on a normal day made you sick, but not now you only heaved as you watched him sink to the ground.

Spiderman, having taken down the gunner and now busy fending of the last one webbed his hands together, earning him a loud roar of anger which you silenced with another swing of your own weapon of choice.

You came face to face with the friendly neighborhood spider and for a moment you just stood there in silence until you could hear the sound of sirens in the distance.

The groans of the 3 taken down idiots filled the night and spiderman made quick business webbing everyone to the ground before shooting one up in the air to get ready to swing off; the other holding out to you for you to take.

“Unless you want to stay here to make a police report that the police of Seoul is to stupid to follow through with anyway, I can swing us out of here?”

Hesitant but cold you took it and suddenly he had is arm wrapped around your waist and held onto him for dear life while swinging through the night.

The wind tugged at your hair and clothes and you prayed to everyone who would listen that Spiderman wouldn’t drop you. You weren’t particularly keen on ending as human pancake on the asphalt.

Your feet hit the ground or more like a roof top. The rooftop of your best friends apartment building to be exact. Having spend countless of nights up here with him to chase the nightmares away just trying to feel his presence in the last 5 years right on this roof, you knew exactly where you were.

The question was just- no… this had to be a coincidence, for sure…

“You really shouldn’t be out this late, it’s not safe for a lady like you.” Spiderman said and now that you had calmed a little after your adrenalin rush, something about the chiding tilt of his voice rang a bell in the back of your head.

“Yeah, my friend told me as much… I was on my way to his place when i– you know.”

The hero nodded knowingly. “Yeah about that…” he stated calmly before suddenly ripping the mask of his head and your best friend long black hair fall in front of his face. “What the hell, sunshine?!”

What. The. Fuck????

Mouth basically on the floor you stared in Jeonghans horrified face. It was funny. Shouldn’t you be the one to feel like that upon finding out that your best friend was fucking Spiderman???

“What are you doing outside this late? Were you trying to get yourself killed? Do you know how scared I was when you called?”

But it made sense. His late nights. The fact that he brought you here. His voice.

“You belong in bed! Not out on the streets at 3 fucking am!”

Jeonghan paced in front of you, hand furiously buried in his hair and tugging on it while you still stood frozen on the roof.

“God I think my heart stopped for a moment because of it! You’re going to be the reason I go bald early and I hope you know that I will make you pay for every single hair dye job I get because of it!”

Your mind slowly caught up with the situation even if it gave you a headache. You rubbed your temple with the tips of your fingers hoping to make the incoming pain go away before it really started while Jeonghan kept ranting to himself without looking at you.

“Jeonghan.”

“And not even that but what if I hadn’t come in time? Huh, what then?”

You tried again.

“Jeonghan!”

Failing.

“You could have been kidnapped, thrown in a ditch or what not!”

You inhaled deeply.

“Or, or you could–“

“JEONGHAN!”

“WHAT?”

He whirled around to finally face you. Realizing the situation you were in his stressed look changed into something akin to surprise.

“You–“ you stopped talking to gather your thoughts. “Are so lucky I love you or I might have killed you for keeping this from me!” you spit out, livid about the entire situation. You felt betrayed.

Spider man had been around for years, save for the years after the snap. Did that mean that Jeonghan had lied to you about this since the beginning? I had to be, there was no other explanation other then-

FUCK!

The words that had left your mouth came back to you.

You’re lucky I love you… You’re lucky I love you…

The words echoed back, taunting you like the kids on the playground.

“You-“

“NOT THE POINT, YOON JEONGHAN!” You yelled out in panic.

“We are talking about this!”

“Right after you tell me what all this is about?” You gestured wildly to his mask and suit.

The black webs on red of his spandex contrasted starkly even in the dark of the night and Jeonghan had the guts to look sheepish.

“y/n, I- it’s complicated okay. There was this incident a few years with a radioactive spider and now I’m your friendly neighborhood spider. Please don’t hit me?”

His words came out so fast that you had trouble following.

“Still considering on that.” You shrugged, hands crossed over your chest.

You always had a weakness for Jeonghans puppy eyes and this time, just like the countless times before, they made you melt like butter in the sun.

“I hate you so much right now.” You sighed and Jeonghan cracked a smile.

“No, you don’t. You looove-“

Glaring hard at his smug grin you stared at the ground when Jeonghan stepped closer. You shivered in the cold of the night and your best friend gently loosened the grip you had on upper arms, taking your hand into his.

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I should have told you. Maybe then things like tonight wouldn’t have happened” He raised his free hand to your face, fingers trailing down the side of it and sending shivers down your spine. This time not because of the cold.

“You were there, weren’t you? Just like always.” You swallowed with a lump forming in your throat.

“But I almost wasn’t.”

Whispering into the night quiet enough so a normal person wouldn’t have heard it. “Yet you were, and now get me inside. I’m still freezing and I’m tired.”

Jeonghan laughed loudly, hurrying to pull you towards the door to get inside you followed willingly. You would definitely make him tell you about everything in the morning and god better be with him when you do cause it will be the day Yoon Jeonghan will regret not doing so in the beginning.

But for now, all you wanted was get some much needed sleep.

“So you lo-“

“I will hit you!”

[c4ttheart]

purple, inumaki toge x gn!reader

fluff. strangers to enemies to bffs to lovers, purple is your favourite color. shitty attempt at humor (this unfunny author’s fault) NOT proofread x 3.5k wc (i got carried away)

purple is your favourite color. it wasn’t always though, you used to prefer blue. the type of blue you can soar in. the type of blue you dream to swim in. or drown. the blue that was painted on the walls of your childhood room. the blue of your middle school uniform.

the first guy you liked was a douche. he liked giving you mixed signals, chatting your ear off about insignificant things one day- a simple way to get your attention- and ignoring you the next. once, you had asked about his favourite color, and he had replied purple after some thought. in the moment, you felt like it was cute, guys didn’t really often answer that. but then one of his friends nearby had laughed and exclaimed a big oooooh very loudly that had left you wondering why. it didn’t take long, because at the other end of the classroom a girl named violet was furiously blushing. you remember the way your brows furrowed as you quickly connected the dots- violet was another name for purple, or something. meaning you were not the only one he talked to, so when he asked what yours was, you were desperate to prove yourself to him. to convince him that you were better than her, more interesting. it wasn’t a very nice thing to think, now that you ponder on it, but you were in middle school. so, without missing a beat, you had replied « oh yeah, same! » maybe you had thought that having more in common with him would lead to something, or whatever. it was stupid anyways. liking him was a plot mistake. but you stuck to it, the same way your personality was (and in a way, stayed) completely attached to his.

when you met toge inumaki on your first day of high school after discovering you could do some sort of spiritual good/exorcism on what seemed to be negative emotions over the summer, the first thing he reminded you of was the normalcy of your middle school life. his eyes were of a purple so vibrant it blinded you, reminded you of why you had even agreed as to why purple was your favourite color. yet, at the same time, it left you uneasy, because you were, after all, being reminded of why you even liked it in the first place. toge inumaki looked at you and smiled on that first day, and it felt like he was applying pressure on a wound that hadn’t had the time to heal yet. you had remained impassive at his grin, and had promptly moved away from him, as if his very presence enerved you to the core. you hadn’t even shaken his hand, like you had with your fellow classmates.

toge’s world crumbled and crashed on that first day, when he saw your reluctance to be in his presence after a simple glance. he felt as if a piece of his heart had been shattered. the only reason he was in this school was to find people akin to him, that would understand him- yet you, with your piercing glaze and annoyed expression, you had promptly dismissed him the same way he had been his whole childhood. was he a freak ? a fake ? he deserved to be here. right ? so why, why had your feelings morphed into anger the second gojo had introduced him for you, since he was incapable of doing it himself, cursed speech and all. and if paining him wasn’t enough, you had to go and stomp on his pride, or whatever semblance of humanity he felt like he had left by getting along with everyone but him.

even the cursed boy that had appeared a few weeks after the start of the first year, you had taken a liking to him. everyone but toge, it seemed.

he tried to talk it out with you, well, as best as he could, but it seemed every time your eyes would lock you’d shudder away, furrowing your brows. toge wasn’t a mindreader, but he knew the expression on your face was distaste. so he rebuilt his world around you, pulling numerous pranks on you and clinging to you with a mischievous intent. it annoyed you to an extent you didn’t think was reachable.

it’s not that you hated inumaki, no, he just made you uncomfortable. well, he used to. at some point, he made you see so much red you forgot about the color of his eyes. and you weren’t the type of person to just stand back. you’d been a bypassser since you were born, and the only reason you were in this school was to stop that train of life. so you fought back. you played his coy little game and then broke down every single rule.

when inumaki added soy sauce in your drink, you’d cook for everyone but him. or you’d add soap in his dish. when he added bright dye to your shampoo, you added a lotion to lose hair in his. when he poured his water on your hair after training, you made sure to hose him down the next day. when he applied glue to your chair, you added small pins to his. when he cut off a strand of your hair, you made a big hole in his uniform pants, right where his crotch was. when he replaced your bedtime pills with foam animals, you used his toothbrush to clean the toilets. when he stole a piece of your food, you’d shove his head in his plate. while toge’s pranks were, for the most part, harmless, yours had a precise goal: humiliate him. (although you prefered the term annihilate, it sounded better.)

and apparently, you weren’t the only one suffering from inumaki’s pranks, just as he was from yours- your whole class loathed nothing more than being caught in the crossfire. (one time, panda helped inumaki replace your moisturiser with foot cream, courtesy of mean girls, the movie they had watched the night prior, and when you discovered, you sowed him to his own bed.) needless to say, they were ALL (including yuta, your sweet angel who could never hate anyone or do anything wrong) fed up with your antics. even gojo, who was amused at first, grew sick of having to comb out grains of rice from his hair from whenever the two of you would have a food fight.

so, gojo, being the genius he is (read: asshole), decided to pair the both of you up. and it would have been fine, you had worked with him before, if it wasn’t for the fact that he made sure every minute you were in class you would be together. he made sure that every single activity had to be completed in pairs, and he’d whisk yuta away whenever you would try and work with him instead. this lead to gojo’s new nickname being ‘senior citizen’, something you called him out of spite when he would not let you and inumaki work with different people. that only seemed to fuel him more, seeing as coincidentally, your chores became aligned with inumaki’s. all the time. you never got a break from the purple eyed mute, it seemed.

however, you suppose you should thank gojo in a way. thanks to him, you learned to not be bothered by the color purple in general. especially by the shade that flickered in inumaki’s pupils. you learned to resent him a little less. you learnt about him, and you learnt that it was never too late to make a new friend. however, that did not do anything but double the pranks you would pull. basically, the only thing that really changed between the two of you was that now, instead of pranking each other, it was anyone that managed to cross your mind. the way you looked at him also changed: slowly, annoyance formed into acceptance. the stars shimmering in his subtle glances never faded though.

when yuta, your sweet angel who could never hate anyone or do anything wrong left, you found a new best friend in toge. toge with his weird gelled up hair, toge with his weird manneurisms and his weird brainriot texts (god knows how many times he’d catch a ball and flash a grin that said´you ladies alright ?’), toge and his unique way of speech, toge and his weird sense of humour that, in a way, completed yours perfectly. toge with an expression so mischievous yet so patient at times you found yourself pouring out every single detail of your life till he knew every single nook and cranny of your former house, your old classroom, and most importantly, the desk where you’d exhange post its with the first guy you ever liked. why you ever disliked him. you thought that the whole reason was stupid now. toge who had also told you (in his own special way) how his childhood went. and why he didn’t like you all that much at first either. but it wasn’t resentment he had felt, it had never been. toge was sweet like that. not once did he bring himself to hate you in the beginning of the year because he didn’t know you well enough to do so.

toge inumaki thought you felt like a sharp inhale of fresh air on a particularly cold december night. it’s unfamiliar but not unwelcome. it’s good for you. it’s painful at first, but it becomes more agreeable once you get used to it. maybe you were more of a cigarette. addictive, knocking all the air out of his lungs (both metaphorically and literally, he hated sparring with you.) it doesn’t really matter what you feel like anyways. what matters is that somewhere along the weird revenges you would pull, he found himself caring for you. in the way lovers do. and now, as you’re sitting criss cross on his carpet, your back resting against his bed frame as you explain to him your villain origin story (aka your middle school lore) for the nth time, he finds himself incapable of fully listening. he hears what you are saying, but the only thing his brain is focused on is the way your lips move or how your fingers twitch and he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if you raked your hand through his hair. or if you pressed his lips against his. or if you fell asleep near him, right here, right now, with your head on his shoulder.

and he knows he shouldn’t be thinking that way, not when you just called him your best friend, but he can’t help it. he can’t help the way his fingers itch for yours or the inhumanly fast pace of his heartbeat when you forget what boundaries are. is it selfish of him to want more ?

apparently, it is selfish. you don’t understand toge’s new behaviour towards you- it’s not like he understands this new fickle of emotion either, but he is pretty sure it is jealousy- as you gush about the ‘cute’ cashier that gave you his number. toge doesn’t think he is pleasing to the eye at all, in fact, he looks like he had to win a game of rock paper scissors to even secure a spot on this earth. his hair is flat and boring, his eyes common, and his facial harmony could probably win a negative score if he tried.

even though he knows he is clearly superior, the train ride home is quiet, too much to your liking. toge doesn’t seem to realise though, for the flock of thoughts swarming his brain is loud enough to fill the lack of conversation. but you’re not a mind reader, so to you, your platinum haired best friend just looks like a brooding mess. you quickly rule out the possibility that he might be on his period. as far as you know, toge was assigned male at birth. although maybe you should double check with panda, it’s odd for him not to be lively. when you finally realise that toge isn’t going to notice your raised brow or stop being grumpy, you plug your headphones in and lean your head on the window.

in front of you, toge wonders if maybe you’d like him more if he had straight hair. the cashier had bangs, so maybe he should get some too. he grimaced at the thought of having to throw away his expensive hair gel. he tried to distract himself because he knew the truth; you’d probably like him more if he could speak freely. but this is a destination he’s not ready to take. not now. maybe later though, in the confines of his own room. crying in front of you would probably make him change countries due to embarrassment. (he didn’t want to appear weak, especially not in front of you. you were always calm and cold headed, and you were so, so brave. and fierce. he loves that about you.)

when you finally arrive on school grounds, toge makes a beeline for his dorm, still moody from whatever bothered him during your city outing. you don’t like conflicts, and you certainly don’t like seeing your best friend upset. so after a long, tired sigh, you jog up to him, only for him to further ignore you.

« toge. tell me what’s wrong. » you urge, your footsteps growing quicker as you pace after said boy.

he groans in annoyance, throwing his hands above his head before letting them nest on his hair. you furrow your brows as him, waiting for him to turn around to face you. the hallways are strangely empty for this time of the day, but you’re glad no one will have to witness your outbursts, if that’s what it can be qualified as.

« talk to me. » you prod again, nagging him relentlessly as he visibly grows more impatient under your gaze. « you’ve been avoiding me all evening toge, i deserve an explanation ! »

he doesn’t answer to that either. no rice ball ingredient slips past his lips, and you’re growing equally distressed.

« you can tell me what’s wrong, we’re best friends after all aren’t we ? » you ask again, hoping your words will be enough to break him out of his temper tantrum.

« just shut up ! » he adds quickly, almost naturally, before you can properly finish your sentence. the aftermath of his actions is immediate as metallic can start to be tasted in the base of his throat. you’re left there, stunned, unable to open your mouth as small tears start to form on your lower lash line. no, no, no, he thinks, as he realises what he has done. he watches your hands claw at your lips, your throat, before your gaze settles on him again. all of a sudden, he is transfixed, immobile under the weight of your glare, like an ant waiting to be squashed. the beginning of the year flashes his mind, and he is left puzzled. you scoff at him, incredulous, giving up on trying to fight the effects of his cursed speech and instead waiting for it to subdue. he realises now, what the look in your eyes is. it is nothing but pure resentment, just like when you hated the color purple. he understands why a younger version of yourself crossed his mind now- there’s no mistake, your stare is the same hardened one than the first time he ever decided to prank you. stupid, stupid toge.

after a while, your vocal cords can resume their vibrations. you’re about to yell at him, he can tell, but instead, a flicker of doubt passes through you, visible through the window of your soul and that is enough to prevent cascades from falling out of his eyes. he does not want this friendship to end, not over something as trivial as this little mistake.

« what.. what happened, toge ? » you speak up, eyes glued to the floor with your eyebrows furrowed. tentatively, you continue, « you never use your cursed speech involuntarily. what made you lash out ? »

and although it feels more like you’re asking that to yourself instead of him, he finds himself pulling his phone out, already typing an explication. it’s a habit, because what is he if you don’t understand him ? what is he without you ?

he pauses before showing you the screen. 'i can’t tell you.'

« why ? »

he shrugs, but he knows why- he can’t let you go, he can’t let his jealousy get the best of him and push you away. he can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he-

his inner thoughts are interrupted by your calloused hand coming up to touch his. he notices the way his breathing becomes less ragged at your touch, and he notices the tear that falls flat against the back of your tumb. it travels down your arm before eventually disappearing and he looks at you, watches as the purple in his irises meets yours and he wonders if you can see how big his pupils become when he looks at you. so much for not crying in front of you. wiping his eyes, he pockets his phone, still silent as ever.

« why ? » you ask again, slowly depriving him of your touch. he wants to say it so bad, to give in to your sweet nothings like he has done so many times before just to hear a hint of happiness in your voice but he can smell the rejection from where he stands, and he knows he will not be able to bear it. maybe he should write it down, type it in and hover his thumb around the send button with a practised ease, because every waking moment that is not spent with you he itches to send you that text, those three words that summarise how he feels, but he can’t. even so, you deserve better than a text. but he can’t say it out loud, no, or his knees will give out quicker than his voice.

« toge, please. » you say, looking at him with the look on your face you knew he never said no to. his expression mirrors guilt, and suddenly, it seems as though your interior slippers are the most interesting thing in the world to him, seeing as his eyes seem so hellbent as to not meet yours. you hand him your phone without a word. when he extends his palm to push it back towards you, you gently cup his face using your fingers to angle it towards you. his heart skips a beat, etching to be released of this cage of ribs, longing to be with you. you remain indifferent, ignorant to the way his pulse races. you soften your eyes at him again, delicately placing your phones in between his fingers. he shudders at the contact, yet he unlocks it like he has so many times and, hypnotised by the feeling of your warmth caressing his skin, he types the words that almost slipped out of his mouth countless times.

‘i dont want to be your best friend anymore‘ the screen reads, and you swear you can hear your heart shattering while his races in anticipation. « what- what are you saying ? »

he doesn’t reply still, so you urge on. « toge ? what do you mean ? » if this was under any other circumstance, toge would’ve probably started humming the justin bieber song. but this wasn’t any other circumstance, because although he always felt giddy around you, never had he been unable to hear the world around him due to the adrenaline rush this was providing him. he looks at you, who is looking at the screen, perplexed and on the verge of crying. he always thought he could smell the rejection, but, maybe it was only the stench of his own fear, seeing as you intertwine your pinky with his, softly yet in a way that is so demanding- your own way to tell him you don’t want him to leave.

he thinks that maybe, the impact after the fall won’t be so bad because at least he was free falling for you. he thinks of you, of how kind you are, of you nimble touches, of your preference for sunrises over sunsets, of how you hate waking up, of how you never let your tough mask crack, of how you love him, even if it’s in a platonic way and he remembers that your favourite color is purple. the same purple you used to hate and the same purple that dances in his eyes. he loves you, he has never been this sure of anything else in his life. a bitter smile makes it’s way onto his face and he pulls his collar down, mulls over his words before opening his mouth. his tongue swirls and his vocal cords hum to form the words « i love you. »

and in that moment, you know your favourite color is purple, it has been for a long time, but now it is for an all different reason.

i took two weeks to write this is insane.. at least im out of writers block (i hope) LMFOA

i think im HILARIOUS but my friends all think otherwise so please… tell me you giggled (trying to prove a point)

might be the first time i lowk like an ending btw (prolly cuz its the first thing i wrote and then i wrote the beginning and then STRUGGLED with the middle part like i was grasping onto my sheets for motivation)

ID LOVE LOVE LOVE to write a part 2 so lmk if ur interested !!

[suroweczka]

Love Potion (reader x Zoro)

Summary: You and Zoro share a quiet night out drinking, both secretly harbouring feelings for each other. That’s until you order a cocktail with a striking name, claiming to make people speak up about their feelings…

female reader in mind

I think it’s a fluff or something (??) Nothing not really explicit anyway. Might write a smut continuation in 50 years though because why not 😌💅🏻✨

🍸🍹It was supposed to be just a night out as friends.

Everyone on the ship could see there was something more between you, but neither of you would admit that. Especially not Zoro — he could barely handle his feelings, let alone actually speak them out loud.

You picked up the menu, flipping through it casually until a certain drink caught your eye: Love Potion. The description boasted about making people spill their true feelings, claiming the cocktail had some "special" effect.

You snorted and nudged Zoro with your elbow. “Look at this,” you laughed. “A drink that makes you confess your feelings.”

Zoro’s expression twisted in amusement. “What a load of crap” he chuckled. “Any alcohol does that… If you’re a loser who doesn’t know how to drink. Which is clearly not me” He folded his arms, with a cocky smile on his face. “Oh, that’s indeed an achievement” you giggled.

“I’m tough. I don’t need to get wasted to talk about how I feel.”

You smiled at him. “They do look nice though, I think I will give it a go, would you like one too?”

“I don’t mind as long as it’s alcohol” he shrugged, leaning back with that confident, careless ease of his. That was classic Zoro; he would drink anything if it had a good kick. So, you ordered the so-called Love Potion, more as a joke than anything else.

When the drinks arrived, you took a cautious sip, but Zoro, in typical fashion, downed his in one go. 

“You didn’t mention it would be sweet” Zoro gave you a grimace of disgust.

“It’s called a Love Potion, what did you expect?” You laughed, shaking your head. 

As you were slowly sipping on your drink, you felt a subtle warmth start to spread through you, though Zoro’s reaction was even more surprising.

“Hey, (Y/N)…” He reached over, a strange glint in his eye as he locked onto you. “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”

You blinked, taken aback. “What? No, you haven’t…”

“I mean it,” he continued, his voice was clear. “When I first met you, it was your strength. You never backed down. Always threw yourself into the fight with no fear. Then I… started to notice other things.”

He leaned closer, his eyes wandering over your face and then down your body. “Like how hot you are” he murmured, his voice rough, almost reverent.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Where’s that coming from?”

“Just saying the truth, that’s all” he replied with a smirk.

But he wasn’t done. His hands, usually so steady with his swords, rested on your shoulders, and he was suddenly right there, his lips grazing your neck in a way that made your whole body shiver. His breath was warm, his mouth soft yet unrelenting, as he kissed down the side of your neck.

"Strong and pretty, what’s more to wish for?" he whispered to your ear, giving you chills. His hand brushing along your arm in a way that sent sparks through you. "Your courage… it’s one of the first things I noticed. But it’s more than that now" His voice grew husky. “I’d never been interested in any woman that way before.”

Your heart pounded, and the warmth from the drink seemed to blend with the heat of his words. Emboldened, you took a longer sip from your own glass, feeling that strange drink work its way through you until it gave you the courage to admit something you'd kept hidden for so long.

“When you took Luffy’s pain,” you began softly, “when you stood there after fighting Kuma without saying a word. I realised how far you’d go for Luffy, for all of us. I was in awe of your loyalty, strength… I was in awe of you, Zoro. I wanted to be someone who could stand by your side… and, I think I fell for you then.” Your words hung in the air, your face flushing with a mixture of nerves and adrenaline.

As you finished your drink, you reached out, pressing a hand to his chest. “And, I mean… have you looked at yourself?” you whispered, your voice carrying a flirtatious edge as you let your fingers slide along his defined muscles. “How could I not be into you?”

And without another word, he took your hand, pulling you toward the exit.

You never thought a drink could change everything—but in that moment, as you both tumbled onto his bed, you knew you wouldn’t be turning back.

And neither would he.

[dragon-gem]

I love the bonus 😂😭 imagine Jay finding it though hahahaha

-

Nya dug through the chest, smiling at all the old clothing and notebooks filled with drawings and stickers. “Look, Jay! The first few iterations of the Samurai X mech!”

Jay glanced up from where he was examining an old practice sword of hers, smiling at the designs drawn in the shaky hand of a 15-year-old. “Now that is a throwback. Who knew you still had all this old stuff in here?”

“As if you don’t have a similar trunk stuffed somewhere,” she teased, “I’m just actually showing you mine.”

“Point taken.” He pulled out another notebook, this one bright pink, sparkly, and completely covered in stickers. “What’s this?”

“I don’t remember.” Nya scooted back, peering at it thoughtfully before going back to the halfway empty chest. “I think Kai bought it for me. It’s probably empty.”

“Maybe.” Jay opened it up, his eyes going wide. “Oh wow.”

“What?”

Nya glanced over at him, her gaze flicking over the page.

It was covered in her signature. But not just any old signature.

Nya Walker.

Mrs. Nya Walker.

Mrs. Walker.

She blushed. “Ahh— see, you were never supposed to see that.”

Jay laughed, flipping through it. “Is this whole thing filled with this?”

“Most of it— okay, you don’t have to laugh like that! Give it back!”

“Hold on, Water Lily, I want to see how many times you wrote my last name—“

“Jay!” She reached for it, blushing so brightly her cheeks were burning. “Oh my FSM, this is so— you were literally never supposed to lay eyes on that—“

“How old were you?” Jay laughed again, finally letting her take the notebook. “Come on, tell me that at least.”

“Maybe fourteen?” Nya snapped it closed, her blush refusing to die down. I have never wished to have Kai’s powers as much as I do right now. “We hadn’t known each other that long, it was probably before the whole deal with the Overlord.”

Jay snickered. “I mean, you have to admit, Nya Walker has a nice ring to it…”

“I will kick you out of my room,” she threatened, waving the notebook, and all its damning evidence, at him threateningly.

“Point taken!” He put his hands in the air, still grinning widely. “Although you’re the one with ‘Nya Walker’ scribbled all over a notebook…”

“Jay!”

“What!? It’s cute! I mean, it’s not like I ever did anything similarly embarrassing…”

She gave him a flat look, tossing the book back into the chest. “Yeah right. So we’re lying to ourselves now? You were down so bad.”

“You’re one to talk! So were you, apparently!”

“The threat to kick you out of my room still stands, Mr. Walker.”

Jay saluted her, his smile still refusing to fade. “As you insist, Mrs. Walker. I will shut up now.”

“Good idea.” Nya shook her head, trying not to smile back at him. He was never ever supposed to see that, by the FSM.

Oh well, at least it could never be said she hadn’t been as cringy as him back then.

“If anyone else finds out about this, I swear…”

Jay laughed, picking up the old Samurai X specs and peering at it closely. “This one will stay between us. I promise.”

Little headcanon I have—

Nya, being a roughly 14 year old girl in season1 and crushing incredibly hard, definitely wrote stuff like “Mrs. Walker” “Nya Walker” “Mrs. Nya Walker” in a notebook.

Nya is allowed to be just as cringy as Jay in early jaya <3

Bonus: only time she ever wished to have Kai’s powers is a couple years later when she finds said notebook and immediately wants to burn it

[evadnesworld]

a cure to jealousy- head pats, xavier x reader

c/w: probs ooc, lowercase everything, xaviers jealous, that new kitty events got me in a chokehold, sickness (cold),

youre an attractive person, xavier knows that- i mean who wouldnt want you? you had the most beautiful smile, one that reached your eyes, speaking of eyes- yours were beautiful. to xavier they were like the stars, nebulae would shy away in awe and jealousy because of your sheer beauty. you hands, hands which he could hold, nuzzle against, the same hands that gave him pats whenever and wherever were now being held by anthor.

if you asked anybody what this sight looked like, they would respond by saying it was a confession, one that was being rejected. they would pay no attention to you soft familiar hands, your dazzling eyes, and your sincere smile. but for xavier- it was all he could look like. i mean, how dare this rando think he could hold you hand without permission?

but before that, allow me to paint the picture for you.

xavier had fallen ill shortly after magically evolving into a feline, you two werent sure it was because of the transformation- but one thing was for certain, it was a bad cold. he was sweating, his cheeks red, his voice raspy- if this was a different situation, it wouldnt cause much worry. but seeing how frail he was, you had declared that you would go to the store to buy him some medicine.

and my declare, i literally mean that- not only was he clingy because he was a cat but he was clingy because he was sick. so he turned into the ultimate clingy monster.

so, you decided to venture out of your shared home to the local pharmacy, thats where you saw a fellow coworker- one who did not know you had a boyfriend.

and as you purchased the medicine and began to walk back home as you approached your door, h stoppd you- with red cheeks, and a rapid heartbeat he grabbed your hand. and as though it were only the two of you there, he yelled out "i like you, please go out with me!" and if this was a shojo manga, this wouldve been cute.

but it wasnt.

you promptly rejected him, letting go of his hands after a moment- not knowing that your boyfriend lingered by your door, seeing all of this unfold.

after you had left, he decided to take a nap- but not seeing you, or feeling your presence made him pout. his ears ringing, his hart thumping, making so much noise that most of his thoughts were drowned out. but one lingered, and this thought was about you and your absence.

he decided to get up, and wait by the door, no matter how many weird stares he got from neighbors wondering by this sickly boy was standing by the door for so long.

you stopped when you saw him before smiling, a smile which instantly disappeared as he looked away with a pout.

"have you already decided to abandon me so quickly? youre so quick to hold the hand of others, but ever since i got sick youve kept your distance from me." his ears dropped as he crossed his arms, tilting his chin down for an added effect.

you walked over to him, not without chuckling- which wasnt taken well. his ears seemed to droop even more now.

"xav, it was just a guy from work, i rejected him- he was nowhere near as good as you." you teased as you brought your hand to pat his head, this was also not well recieved. he turned his head away, rejecting the pats even though thats what he desperately craved for at the moment.

you ushered him inside the house and turned to him once more as the door closed, "dont worry xav, my hearts only with you. but if you insist that it isnt then ill hav no choice but to leave." you let out a fake somber sigh,

to say this alarmed xavier was an understatement, because that pout soon turned into a frown. if it was any other day, hed insist- but with this horrible cold that decided to attack him, he leaned into your touch with defeat.

and it was there when you felt the familiar softness of his hair as he allowed you to stroke his ears once more. he sounded as though he was purring- your touch made him melt. his body slumping against yours as you two made your way to your shared bed. and after giving him medicine, he clung onto your like there was no tomorrow.

and you too had to accept defeat as you laid with him, his breaths slowing as he surrender to his drowsiness- peaceful now that you were by his side and not somebody elses. content with your warmth, and more than content that hed spend the rest of his life with you.

at least he hoped he would.

dividers from @/nicodefresas and @/konatasoup

how do i improve this story? i know hes ooc, but what would make him less ooc?

[wisteria-lodge]

do you think lucius only realize he don't want to be a death eater after voldemort was defeated in the 1st war or even during it?

speaking of what are your thoughts/hc on why narcissa didn't take the dark mark despite her sister and her husband doing it? tbh i always wondered how she could've avoided it? i mean she was part of it right, she was in the meetings too

I always thought it made sense that Draco was a difficult pregnancy.

I say that because Lucius and Narcissa seem like the sort of couple who would have loved more children. Narcissa was close with her sisters before things fell apart, and Lucius was an only child... but he's so social I think that must have been lonely for him. I think he would have loved it if Draco had a younger brother or sister. And the only barrier they'd be dealing with there would be a medical one, so.

(also, I love whenever the the Malfoys and the Weasleys are foils, and the idea of Draco and Ron being born at pretty much the same time - but Ron is one of many, a little neglected, mom is a little disappointed he's not a girl etc. while DRACO is so wanted and so special. That's good stuff.)

I also think that if the Malfoys were dealing with fertility issues, Narcissa suffering, maybe even having a miscarriage - that would have made early-twenties Lucius grow up REAL fast. Because yeah, I do think that when Draco was born - about a year before Voldemort's downfall - Lucius' priorities shifted completely, and he started looking for a way out.

And I say that because Lucius rode the wave of the first war really well, coming out with his money and prestige so intact, which would have taken some planning. Lucius is also one of very few Death Eaters who actually got off using the 'imperius curse' defense. (I think the only other one is Avery.) I like the idea that he did actually plan that. Like - okay. You could have someone you trust (Narcissa, maybe Severus) put the imperius curse on you for a couple months, and that way when you're asked "Were you directed to follow Voldemort's orders under the imperius curse," you can say yes, even if you're under Veritaserum.

(Nott senior also seems to have also come out of the first war basically unscathed, but he also seems much more cautious than Lucius. I'll bet he was very good at making sure that there was never much actual evidence against him. Crabbe and Goyle senior also seem to be doing fine, and I tend to think it's because Lucius got them out (possibly because their wives were close with Narcissa? All three women would have been pregnant at the same time.) Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle are *quite* committed to keeping Draco Malfoy in one piece. I love Draco, but he does spend several books being a little shit with no ability to defend himself, so they do have their work cut out for them.

I also think a Narcissa who spent the first Voldemort war dealing with pregnancy-related health issues could explain why she doesn't have a Dark Mark, when honestly she really should. Her husband, sister, brother-in-law, underage cousin... they're all getting them. So why was Narcissa skipped (but still allowed to remain in good standing?) I think she she stayed out of the spotlight, using her delicate health as an excuse. And then the second war comes around and she... fades to the background again, makes herself useful, and hopes that the issue never comes up. I don't think she'd say no to a confundus, or even a memory charm if she were really put on the spot.

(but the real, Doylist reason Narcissa doesn't have a Dark Mark is because JKR has a very strong aversion to writing villainous mothers. See: the very odd framing of Merope Gaunt.)

[carinasibila]

PICK A CARD General Reading (November 11-17)

Disclaimer: Only take what resonates and leave the rest behind. I am only posting this reading on profiles I’ve listed on my Linktree (https://linktr.ee/carinasibila) – all other profiles that might post it are fake. Decks used in this reading: Kitty Kahane Tarot Blue Bird Lenormand* Original Kipper Cards** PILE 1 Ace of Pentacles, Ship*, Lovers** Back of the deck: IV of Pentacles This week, you’ll likely come across an exciting opportunity; one so exciting that you might think it could be too good to be true. The cards counsel you to open-mindedly explore taking advantage of this opportunity as it’s likely to be as amazing as it sounds. Should you decide that it’s worth it, you should fully commit and start the journey towards a brighter future. PILE 2 IX of Swords, Fish*, Unexpected Income** Back of the deck: IX of Cups Recently, you’ve been dreading that a situation that went wrong for you in the past is going to come up again – and this week, it’s finally going to happen. Take heart and face this challenge with confidence. You’ve taken a lot of small steps to change, and, cumulatively, they mean that you’re a different person now than you were back then. This time, things will turn out well for you! PILE 3 II of Cups, Snake*, Bad Health** Back of the deck: III of Swords This week, you might encounter someone you’ve had (a) painful experience(s) with in the past. The cards encourage you to not cling to the hurt that this person has caused you. The person in question or their circumstances might have changed, and thus a burying of the hatchet or the beginning of a full-on reconciliation might be in the cards. Cautious optimism should be your guiding principle.

[nonsensenook]

Chapter 4 | Lingering Scars, Heavy Sighs

Synopsis: You and Bajie leave The Hollow heavy with separate burdens which you both chose to drown out with alcohol. A continuation of this unapologetic take on you, the reader, accompanying the Destined One on his journey. 

Word Count: 5,035

Warnings: Sadness, Violence (Brief Mentions) 

Author’s Note: A bit heavier of a tone than previous chapters, at least in the beginning. Is it just me or are these chapters getting longer? I thank you very much for your patience, kind words, and I hope you enjoy! 

Requested Tags: @joyfulllittlething, @servamp01, @suntizme

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 3.5 (Optional) - Cont.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at the Webbed Hollow had you go against a rule you’ve enacted on yourself since you came to this world: try to change the course of the story. You had time to think through your plans again before you and your group arrived at the Village of Lanxi. While smuggled in the chest carried by two pig Yaoguais you were silently deep in thought as Bajie rolled his eyes at the petty gossip the two were exchanging. You could tell he was getting impatient from how often he peeked out from the chest. In your lap was the Destined One in his bird form, cradled in your arms. You absentmindedly pet him as the village came closer. 

You had a chance to alter the course of the future. Maybe some lives can be spared and some stories re-written. After all, your presence is proof enough that things can be skewed off course, at least a little. But no matter how you went about it you couldn’t see a future where things went the way you wanted them to. You couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling that your actions would be in vain. At the same time, you wouldn’t forgive yourself if you didn’t try. 

You had warned Bajie of the dangers that came from trying to trick the ladies of the house. You were careful not to teeter too close to the edge when warning Bajie, cautious of him questioning the knowledge you held and if he were to begin asking questions you couldn’t answer. In the end, you couldn’t give an explanation that justified not going through with Bajie’s plan, at least not one good enough to satisfy him. They needed to infiltrate the Hollow, even if they were seen through. And so, the Weavers Needle landed its mark. You swallowed the bitter taste of failure and carried onward. 

The Hollowed Web was the most perilous of all lands you’ve traveled to so far. Knowing this beforehand didn't change that fact. You were hesitant to jump into it with the Destined One, but there were no other ways for you to continue forward without him. You were grateful that the kindness of the Fourth Sister extended to you as well. She had safely taken you both into the Hollow. 

The Fourth Sister was another one whose outcome you tried to rewrite. Knowing her fate if the Destined One were to continue tearing the talisman made you consider deeply whether or not you should advise him not to do so. You ultimately chose to stay your hand as your companion tore each talisman. You hoped your choice was the right one; that a chance of a future outside of this Hollow was one she’d take even if it meant becoming a captive of the Celestial Court. You wanted to believe in that chance and couldn't make yourself take it away. 

You spent much of the time in The Hollow clinging to the Destined Ones back or having him catch you as you traversed from platform to platform. Your guard and stress were at an all time high as you thought of every possibility while Yaoguais ambushed you from above and below. Nothing was changing. Even when you warned Bajie or the Fourth Sister, everything was falling into place as they should. As the Destined One kept you both alive you worked to think of a way, any way to make just one change. You felt yourself sink further into despair as every moment played out as it had before. Your unprecedented presence had made no difference. 

~

You were silent as The Hollow was left behind. Bajie was the same, both of you were deep in thought, matching the usual energy which The Destined One carried with him. Your gaze was unfocused, your mind elsewhere. Many times you were stopped by the Young Sage from walking into a tree or off a dangerous ledge. His arm would wrap around your waist protectively or his hand would be placed on your shoulder to redirect you. You would apologize to him before sinking back into your stupor. 

Bajie was the same, if not worse. It would take several attempts to get his attention and once he acknowledged you with a grunt his mind would go back to where it was the very next moment. When a hostile Yaoguai appeared on your path, Bajie didn’t even glance at it until he was flung back from an attack. This made him turn into his boar form, crushing the Yaoguai against a tree. When he returned to his usual self, he made no acknowledgement of what happened. He simply kept walking. 

You couldn’t stop wondering how you could have acted differently, how you could’ve guided them from this preordained path. If you have been more clever - if you have figured out a way, then Bajie wouldn’t be mourning. The Fourth Sister wouldn’t have been captured. Five daughters wouldn’t be digging a grave. You clutched at your arm, nails digging into your skin. What use was your knowledge if you could do nothing with it? What use were you to any of them? Your hands ran through your hair as the same question was brought forth. For what reason were you here? 

At some point a fire was started and a blanket draped gently around you. You shook out of your state briefly to look up and see the Destined One stirring something in a pot over the fire. You hadn’t noticed the sun had begun to set. You weren’t even sure when you had even sat down. You looked around and found that Bajie was nowhere to be seen. Looking at the inventory the Destined One laid out you noted some items were missing: several jars of brew and a few pieces of food. You gave a strong guess or two as to what happened to them and Bajie. 

The Destined One produced a bowl and spoon, ladling out hot broth. You watched him walk to you, crouching down to hand you the bowl. You accepted it, but made no movement to begin eating. The Destined One plopped down beside you. You could sense he was troubled as he took the bowl back from you. He stirred the broth once, then filled the spoon half-way before holding it beside your lips. You gazed up at him. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you said. In response the Young Sage bumped his head against yours as his tail wrapped around you. His arm pulled you closer to him as your vision began to blur. “I’m sorry…” you repeated quietly. The Destined One held you knowing that your last apology wasn’t for him. 

His brow was slightly furrowed, mouth tilted in a small worried frown, and his eyes were urging you to please eat. You felt your heart ache. Guilt washed over you as you looked at his expression. You turned back to the food, leaning forward to sip at the broth. You quietly continued to let him feed you. When you asked if he’d prepared any for himself he interrupted your question by spooning you more broth. You swallowed quickly then put your hand up as a barrier.

“I’m not going to eat anymore if you aren’t going to eat at all,” you said. The Destined One stared at you for a beat then took the bowl to his lips. You felt yourself smile a little watching his tail lash behind him. You then obediently ate the rest of the soup. You had him finish off the last spoonful himself then leaned into his shoulder. 

~

You found Bajie at the edge of a nearby lake with a jar of brew in hand. Several jars were already emptied and tossed aside. You sat down beside him as he finished another and added it onto the growing pile. He wiped his mouth, eyes trained on the still lake. 

“What do you want?” Bajie asked bluntly, tearing another bottle open. 

“A drink,” you answered, grabbing a bottle of your own. 

You felt Bajie’s gaze shift to you as you tore the brew open and tilted it back, taking in large gulps of alcohol. You almost slammed the bottle down as you let out a heavy sigh. 

“You don’t drink,” Bajie said incredulously.

“Since when?” You responded, glancing sideways at him. 

Bajie seemed to think for a moment then held out his jar towards you. In return you held out your own drink, tapping it against his. With that small toast you both took a swig from your drinks and sat in silence staring out onto the lake. The last colors of twilight were fading. As the full moon began to rise you watched as fireflies slowly blinked awake. 

You didn’t know what to say to Bajie. No apologies would come without explanations you couldn’t give. Bajie was the same, bound by a similar rule that had you both brood in silence. You thought of the little girl; the youngest of the Spider Sisters. You remembered the expression on her face as she watched Bajie walk away. Again and again everything brought you back into the same loop, the same feeling of helplessness. You felt you wanted to throw something to hear it shatter and break apart. Instead you took a big swig in a pathetic attempt to drown and shut those thoughts out. 

The night continued like this until the moon shone its reflection onto the center of the lake. You and Bajie continued to drink, neither of you stepping from your own worlds. The alcohol was coursing through you. You felt buzzed as the ground swayed ever so slightly. Your mind felt like it had been soaked, half-heartedly rinsed, then left out to dry as the brew washed over your senses. Out of the corner of your vision you saw Bajie turn from the lake and sigh heavily as he closed his eyes. 

“Do you regret it?” the question left you before your mind fully comprehended it. Yet, you didn’t feel any panic once you did. You just wanted to hear the answer. You watched the subtle ripples of the reflected moon as Bajie kept his eyes closed. You thought he hadn’t heard you. A small part of you was grateful, ready to rebuild the broken silence. Then Bajie opened his eyes. 

“A better question is,” Bajie said, picking up a rock and turning it in his hand, “would I do it all again?” 

You stared at the lake, watching the fireflies lazily dancing on its surface. 

“Would you?” you asked. 

“Would you?” he asked right back. 

Your hand went to the scar on your arm. Flashes of memories flipped through your mind. From the moment you fell into this world to now. You thought of all those times your life was in peril, the struggle it took for you to adapt, the fear, the ache of home, the helplessness, and this evolved deep rooted guilt. You felt your hand clutch at your drink harder as your arms held yourself together. Then the Destined One appeared in your mind. You thought of his eyes, his smile, his little mannerisms, his gentle hands, the moments you two shared, his warmth, his fury, his joy, his pain. Him. You thought of Bajie. The stories he’d tell you as you rested. The times he’d fight alongside the Young Sage. The way he cared for you beneath that layer of gruffness. How he’s sitting beside you now, sharing a moment to drink with you.  

“Yes…” you said. 

“Then you have your answer,” replied Bajie. 

Even if this journey ends in pain and tragedy you already knew. If given the choice, you’d choose to do it all again. Bajie makes a sound between a grunt and a hum. He turned the rock once more then tossed it into the lake where it skipped twice disturbing and dispelling the image of the moon. You watched the ripples smooth itself out, sipping from your drink. 

Bajie spoke up, “Your turn,” he said. 

“Hm?” you picked at the grass, becoming more aware of how warm your body had become from the drink. 

“I’m owed a story,” said Bajie. 

You laughed then emptied the last sips of your bottle before wiping your mouth. Your hand went to grab another, humming as you undid the seal on the brew. 

“Have I ever told you about the time I was captured by bandits?” 

Bajie choked on his drink, “Those idiots thought you-” Bajie burst into laughter, hitting the ground as he did so. You could only make out some snippets of what he was saying in-between his cackling. 

“No, but I am not surprised. You attract unwanted dangers like our Master had. Might as well wear a sign reading Free Morsel.”

“Funnily enough, they thought I was your master,” you said, ignoring his quip. 

“They thought-you! A pious monk! Oh yes, I see you are just brimming with virtuosity.” 

You rolled your eyes as Bajie’s laughter settled down to a controllable chuckle. 

“I couldn’t have been this cheeky when I first asked you for a story,” you grumbled. 

“Oh no, you were much worse,” countered Bajie. 

“Can I tell my story now?” 

Bajie tilted his drink to you, “Floor’s all yours, kid.” 

Bajie listened as you recounted the event of your capture. You skimped a bit on the details regarding the argument you and the Destined One were going through. He mumbled about how you were “Just like Master” when you shared how you were caught unawares to be consumed. He seemed to enjoy your description of the rats and their little tussle. He snickered when you told him the lie you had fed them. 

“They really believed that?” 

“I’m still telling the story, Bajie.” 

Bajie seemed gripped as you told him about the rising tensions the group had when they argued on what to do with you. Then came the moment the rat leader opened his mouth to take a bite of you. You built on that suspense up to when the Destined One dramatically appeared to save you which had Bajie grunt. 

“What a surprise,” Bajie said sarcastically. 

You must’ve been a bit too descriptive in how you described the Destined One as he battled the rats because Bajie interrupted you by saying, “Yes, yes the dashing little monkey prince came and rescued you. What happened afterwards?” 

You paused. “Afterwards?” you repeated. You blinked as the events of ‘afterwards’ replayed in your mind. You were grateful your cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol. You cleared your throat, absentmindedly swirling your drink around and feeling there was a little over half of it left. You avoided looking at Bajie. 

“Nothing much, we just continued the journey as usual,” you said casually. 

“Huh, figured the kid wasn’t one to take advantage of the situation.” Bajie commented. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, such a romantic rescue usually ends with a kiss at the very least.” 

You froze. You couldn’t tell if the way Bajie was leaning forward out of the corner of your eye meant he was knowingly teasing you or you were just imagining it. Bajie continued, “So nothing hap-” 

You threw your drink back, gulping it all down loudly as some of it spilled from the corners of your mouth. 

“Woah, slow down, kid. You’ll drown yourself drinking that much all at once,” Bajie warned.

You didn’t listen. Tossing your empty drink aside, you grabbed and ripped into another, giving Bajie a brazen smile. 

“Scared I’ll out drink you, old man?” 

Bajie seemed taken aback for a moment then flashed you a grin. He emptied his drink down his gullet, mirroring you in grabbing another. 

“Big words from such an impudent human. You’ll be regretting that tonight,” Bajie said. 

“Such a powerful Yaoguai like yourself s’got more to lose,” you replied spilling a little of your drink as you offered him a toast, “And only tonight, Bajie? No, you’ll be the one regretting this come morning.” 

Bajie snorted, almost crashing his drink against yours. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

~

You couldn’t stop laughing. The ground was constantly moving. The world seemed to take a moment to catch up every time your gaze shifted. Your words were slurring, tumbling over each other. You and Bajie were constantly switching between tearful laughter and heated arguments. All of which were nonsensical. The arguments escalated into petty bets. Who can chug the fastest without pause? Who can throw the most accurately? Who can stack the taller brew tower? Though you won your fair share Bajie was quite ahead in wins which made you challenge him again and again. More and more silly bets came and went. You’d just beaten him in a very fair and not at all skewed agility test when Bajie spoke up, almost tripping over an empty jar. 

“Alright, I know one-one thing. I can summon that kid without speaking a single word.” 

You tilted your head in thought, your drink tilted with you spilling a bit on the ground. You didn’t pay that much mind as you squinted at Bajie. 

“And no using your powers?” you questioned. 

“Not one,” assured Bajie. 

Bajie stumbled over to you and waved you closer like he’s about to share a secret. Without much or really any thought you leaned down. Bajie reached his hand out and flicked you hard on the head. You yelped, clutching your head as you fell to the ground. You went back and forth cursing at Bajie and groaning out “Why.” The answer came when two familiar hands pried yours from your face. The Destined One had been successfully summoned. The Destined One turned your head to examine it. Joy at seeing him sparked back into irritation towards Bajie as you heard him cackling on the ground. Bajie pointed to you, “Take that one back to camp before they drink all my alcohol.” 

“Don’t listen to him, he’s drunk,” you huffed. 

“You’re drunk!” Bajie retorted. 

The Young Sage made to take you into his arms, an offer you’d never thought you’d turn down. In your drunken stupor indignation and stubbornness flared, catching ablaze on the alcohol coursing through you.

“Now it’s fair,” you threw an arm around the Destined One and pointed at Bajie, “As a team we’re taking you down, old man.” 

Bajie guffawed, “You think adding the kid is enough to match the Zhu Bajie?” 

“If you’re too scared now that my monkey prince is here, then go ahead and cut me off,” you challenged. Bajie’s ear twitched. He walked up to the Destined One and shoved a drink into his hand. The Young Sage looked at the drink then at Bajie. 

“Your pre-requisite,” Bajie said slyly. 

The Destined One looked at you still hanging onto his shoulders. You were grinning stupidly back at him, giving him a thumbs up for encouragement. The Young Sage downed the drink in one breath. You watched mesmerized as the drink spilled from his lips and trickled down his throat. You felt something smack you on the shoulder. Tearing away from the Destined One you looked at the ground where a pebble was rolling to a stop. You frowned at Bajie. 

“Quit your gawking, I can see you drooling from here,” said the Pig Guai.

The Destined One threw the empty jar aside looking roguishly, sinfully, and devastatingly handsome as he wiped his mouth with his wrist. You grinned at Bajie who responded with a chuckle, “You’ve got some catch-up to do, Nephew. I’ve got ‘em beat eight to one.” 

“You lying piece of-” 

The games began. 

An outlooker could describe the scene and sound like they’re about to tell a joke. A monkey, a pig, and a human were drunkenly running around near a lake scattering the nearby fireflies and small wildlife. Every so often the human would be yelling at the pig as he shoved more drinks into the monkey’s hand. The monkey remained unphased by the amount of alcohol he consumed and was the only one not swaying on their feet. At some point, someone's mother was being insulted. 

Bajie’s challenges were becoming more ruthless. The beginning was a simple game of rock skipping. Bajie had made an impressive six skips while your own rock sank to the bottom of the lake immediately. The Destined One had picked up a rock without much thought and flicked it across the lake's surface. The rock skipped across the lake, going well beyond six and continuing into the distance. You jumped onto his back with a fist in the air. Bajie was quick to prepare for the next game. 

The Destined One dominated them all. No matter the amount of drinks that Bajie handed him he didn’t seem even the slightest bit buzzed. You saw that he wore a subtle grin;  his tail swayed to and fro as Bajie challenged him again and again. He was fully enjoying himself. You didn’t mind at all that he was carrying you in almost every challenge being much too busy laughing and stumbling around as you cheered him on. Eventually, Bajie threw up his hands. 

“Alright! Final challenge,” Bajie swayed heavily pointing back and forth between the two of you. You were being carried on the Destined Ones shoulders as you switched between drinking and having him drink from the same jar. Bajie had just lost to a simple game of rock paper scissors in which you were the victor. The Destined One had held you up as you laughed victoriously. 

Bajie’s words were heavily slurred as he went back and forth between the line of drunken delight and vexation. Bajie patted around his body then produced a small jade pendant which he almost dropped. Bajie held it up for you and the Young Sage to see. 

“A simple game,” Bajie hiccuped, “of keep away.” 

You watched as Bajie took a few steps back, making some distance between you and the Destined One. Bajie walked into the lake till the water reached his waist. You patted the Destined One gently on his head. He set you down from his shoulders. You knew this one was truly for everything. 

“Five minutes should be enough for you two numskulls,” Bajie said, “Come at me, the both of you!” Bajie tossed the pendant up. You followed its trajectory as it ascended, readying yourself to dash towards it. Beside you, the Destined One did the same. In slow motion, your eyes followed the pendant as it descended. In the next moment, you watched as a catfish met it halfway and swallowed it. The very same catfish fell back into the lake with a small plop, disappearing below the surface. You stood there, staring as the ripples of the lake smoothed out again. It took you too long to comprehend what just happened. For a moment, you and the Destined One stared at the silent, unmoving lake. In the next, you were wading through the water calling Bajie a list of colorful names and terms which this world had yet to hear. 

You addressed the Young Sage. “Any fish-like transformation in your arsenal?” you asked, already knowing the answer. The Destined One shook his head. You kicked at the water in vain. As sudden as it came, you felt your anger douse itself out. That little cheater. You couldn’t say you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in Bajie’s shoes. Or would it be hooves? 

You laid back onto the water, mindlessly floating about. You let yourself swear at Bajie one more time with a smile as you swore revenge. Fireflies flew in and out of your sight. The moon was outdoing itself tonight as it shined brightly in a sea full of twinkling stars. A familiar face appeared in your vision. The Destined One looked down at you as your head bumped against his leg. 

“I’d ask you to join me, but I’m not too sure if you float,” you said. He seemed happy enough to simply watch you.

After five minutes, Bajie appeared bursting from the lake shaking off excess water onto you and the Destined One. You stood up to glare at him and give him a splash back. He tsked at you. 

“Hey now, it’s a bad look to be so sore after losing,” Bajie chided. You flicked water at him defiantly. Bajie ignored the little water droplets you pelted at him. 

“As winner,” he continued, ignoring your jeering, “I declare you both cut off from drinking anymore of my alcohol and you shall call me King Bajie the Unparalleled from now on.” 

“We’re not doing that,” you said then sneezed into your elbow. Your drenched clothes clung to your body as the Destined One scooped you up into his arms, ignoring how his own clothes were getting soaked. 

“Yes, take that insolent human away, Nephew.” said Bajie in a haughty tone, waving you both off. 

You opened your mouth to reply, but ended up sneezing again. The Destined One turned away quickly, wading out of the lake to get you onto dry land. You turned to Bajie, ready to counter him with an insult. Your tongue stilled as you looked at him. Where Bajie was just standing, a young man now stood watching you both leave with a forlorn smile on his face. He was tall, handsome, with an almost exalted air surrounding him. As the fireflies blinked in and out around him, he turned away from you, his long dark hair shrouding his face. You didn’t dare blink, not even when the trees and foliage began obscuring your vision. You watched as the young man looked up at the moon, turning that little jade pendant in his hand.

~

You were snuggled in the Young Sage’s arms as he carried you back to camp. A blanket of drowsiness wrapped itself around you. Cut off and kicked out, you finally felt the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. Looking up through half-lidded eyes, your hands went to trace the Destined One’s face. Dreamily, you brushed through his fur. 

“It’s so soft,” you said as you scratched the back of his head. He leaned into your hand then tilted his head this way and that to make sure you get every good spot. 

You laughed, “You are adorable.” 

The Destined One blinked. That was a newer compliment. You knew it was one you typically kept to yourself, but you didn’t care. Your inhibitions had been washed away, perhaps abandoned at the edge of the lake a drink or two ago. In this moonlight, underneath the sky dusted full of stars the Destined One looked much too- “Handsome,” you said out loud. The Young Sage seemed surprised, but fully embraced your sudden praise with a smile. You kept them coming, his subtle joy at your words pushing you on until you were babbling. You talked about how fun tonight was, you wondered if he’d ever gotten drunk, then you would double back to complimenting him again. His eyes, his smile, his hands, that tail of his, everything about him you flooded with shameless praise. The Young Sage looked close to laughing. 

You couldn’t make out the details of anything. The world was an unfocused blur on an unfinished painting. The only thing clear to you was him. You smiled wistfully, looking into his eyes. 

“You know, before I came here I-” a sudden wave of nausea hit you. You covered your mouth as you felt yourself salivate. The Destined One quickly put you down where you braced yourself against a tree and emptied your stomach. The Destined One steadied you with a hand on your back. You felt sick and dizzy, no longer able to open your eyes without the world spinning out of control. The next instances came in snapshots: being cleaned up, changed, asking for water, groaning, more vomiting, more water. You fell asleep curled up next to the Young Sage, clutching at his robes while he combed his hands gently through your hair. 

~

The next morning, you woke up feeling dehydrated with a throbbing headache. You squinted in the light of the sun, catching your pig guai companion fairing the same across the way. Both of you groaned as the consequences of your actions produced an unforgiving hangover. 

The Young Sage was just fine, you could make out his fuzzy shape warming up in the distance with his staff. He’d left a little kettle beside the embers of a dying fire already heated and ready. You forced yourself up and poured a cup of hot tea with shaky hands. Bajie stayed where he was, but continued his lament of groans as he tried to cover his eyes from the sunlight. He hadn't made it to his bedding last night which sat unused only half a foot away from him. You placed the steaming cup near Bajie, his ear twitched as it followed your movements. You poured yourself another cup and took a sip, shivering as the hot liquid coursed through you. 

Bajie slowly sat up, taking the drink you’d given him. He took a sip and shivered as he closed his eyes. 

“Thanks, kid,” Bajie said. 

You gave him a small hum in response. Birds were greeting you with their chorus as a warm breeze blew through your hair. The Destined One returned, sitting beside you and handing you breakfast already prepared. You looked at him as you held your pulsing head. Your memories after leaving Bajie were hazy and jumbled, as if someone wiped at the pages of your mind while the ink was still drying.

“Did I say anything weird last night?” you asked. 

The Destined One tilted his head in thought. He gave you a small, almost indiscernible, mischievous smile and shook his head. You probed him more as that tail of his flicked back and forth. The Young Sage took your cup and sipped at it, remaining unmoved as you pestered him on what you could’ve possibly said. Bajie, with eyes still closed, spoke up, “Silence,” he said, “The Unparalleled King Bajie commands it.” 

A passerby could describe the scene that happened afterwards and sound like they’re about to tell a joke.

[rekino2114]

I love kanade I really really do, bjt Arei just wins out for me. So how about Arei from Despair time alphabet with J, L, V, Y

J,L,V and Y fluff alphabet prompts with arei nageishi and kanade otonokoji

A/n:I'll do you one better. Why choose when you can have both (yes, this is allowed. It's still 4 letters even with 2 characters)

Arei nageishi

🎳J=jealousy (how jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Arei gets jealous pretty easily. While she may appear to have a big ego, she knows better than anyone how her personality is, and she's very afraid that you'll get tired of it and leave her so when she sees a girl flirting with you she'll immediately start yelling at her and calling her every insult possible while telling her you're taken. She'll also start making out with you in front of her just to rub salt in the wound

🎳L=love confession(how did they confess to you?)

She invited you bowling and was planning to confess while comforting you for your loss, but she ended up getting distracted by you and her emotions and losing, so you comforted her instead and she blurted out that she loved you, she was very embarrassed at first but very surprised and happy when you accepted her confession

🎳V=value (How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

Your relationship and you in general mean so much to her, specifically the fact that you could see through and endure her personality, you and eden are the only people who see her for what she actually is:a person genuinely trying her best to make friends and change at least a little bit. She knows she probably will never be a good person, but she doesn't really care as long as you're with her

🎳Y=yes (how do they react to you proposing to them?)

"So, did you bring me here just to get destroyed at bowling? Hehe, sorry, but seriously, why did you play with me? You usually just watch me play"

"Well today is special"

"Really? How so?"

Arei watched as you got on one knee, pulled out a ring, and started your speech. Part of her genuinely couldn't believe this was happening. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming, and before she knew it, she started crying.

She carefully listened to everything you told her and had the biggest smile you had ever seen on her face while still crying when you asked her the question

"Are you fucking serious? Of course I will, yes, yes,yes, do you need me to say it again? cause I will, yes I would love to marry you"

Kanade otonokoji

🎸J=jealousy (how jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Kanade is very much the jealous type just seeing you talking with another girl causes her to get violent thoughts, and if that girl starts flirting with you, you might as well say your goodbyes because that is the last conversation you're gonna have with her, she obviously trusts you and knows you're never gonna leave her but it's better to send a message to any possible competition.

🎸L=love confession(how did they confess to you?)

She wanted to go all out to show you just how much she loved you, so she asked hibiki to make a special song for you and make her sing it this time, she was very surprised by her sister's actually pretty good performance but didn't think too much about it. She made a private concert for you and after she finished singing she went over and told you that everything she had said in the song was for you. She then kissed and hugged you when you said you liked her too. She may have seemed blushy and nervous on the outside, but on the inside, she couldn't be happier that you said yes as that made things much easier for both of you

🎸V=value (How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

When kanade fell in love with you, any obsession she might have felt towards her sister was replaced by you. She couldn't think of anything but you. All her dreams were filled with her and you living a happy life together. She loved you so so so so much, and thankfully, you feel the same . She doesn't even have to break you to be with you. She would gladly kill everyone in the world, including her sister, to be with you or if you simply ask her to. So safe to say you mean a lot to her

🎸Y=yes (how do they react to you proposing to them?)

"The scenery is beautiful, darling, but why did you bring me here?"

Despite what her question might lead you to believe, she knew exactly why you were there, the recent searching for rings online and measuring of hibiki's finger (you didn't want her to know and they have the same fingers) made it obvious, it was a bit disappointing if she had to be honest, she wanted to be the one to propose, to make a perfect discourse on how much she truly loved you (as if she didn't do that every day) but she could never complain, it was an even greater sign that you wanted to be with her

"To do this"

You got on one knee and pulled the box out, kanade tried her best to look surprised, but the pure ecstasy that was filling her mind was too much to contain, she started drooling a bit and hearts replaced her pupils, her true self coming out for a bit, but she shrugged it off in time to answer your questions without you noticing

"O-of course my darling, I would love nothing more than to marry you, I want to live the rest of my life with you, I will love you forever and ever, that's a promise"

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Death and Time

“Why don’t you want me?”

Why don’t you want me.

Hey, Agatha, why don’t you want me?!

Before Agatha, there is nothing for Rio to lose. She is loss, the final end of all things. Nothing can be taken from her. All things die and so all things are hers. Until Agatha, and then, for the first time, she understands loss from an outsider’s perspective.

“And when I do die, a long, long, long, long, long time from now, I don’t want to see your face.”

Sure, she can do that. It’s not like she appears personally for everyone, though she could. Some people find their way past the veil without a guide. Some are ready for it. She picks the one who aren’t, those who feel their time has come too early, the ones who want someone to complain to or a long-suffering shoulder to cry on. She does her best to talk them around, but ultimately, one way or another, they’re coming with her.

Agatha will probably hurl herself past the veil and immediately start causing problems on the other side. She will never go gently into that good night. She’ll find the rules and then she’ll try to break them, arrogant creature that she is.

Rio misses her every day.

Or however long. She has trouble with Time. Not her domain. A day is a week is a month is a year; it all blends together.

Until she gives some to Agatha. Then she watches, unseen, and sees the hourglass tick down, grain by grain, until the inevitable end.

Which is, of course, her.

All she knows is that it has been too long. They did battle across continents until Agatha hid from her with dark magic and that hurt worst of all, the long stretch where she can’t even find the woman she loves. She doesn’t know how long it was. It felt like an eternity. It wasn’t.

When they were together, Agatha handled Time, mostly by being annoyed at it. Nothing has ever moved fast enough for Agatha. Rio doesn’t understand—there is only one thing to hurry towards.

And now that she’s arrived, Agatha doesn’t seem too happy to be here.

Too bad. This time she’s coming with Rio. It’s been too long (how long?). Death wants her favorite girl.

Only, Agatha is kissing her. Properly, even hungrily, and all she can do is let it happen.

How long has it been since Agatha kissed her?

Agatha’s mouth is so warm, exactly as she remembers, and Rio’s anger abates almost instantly, transmutes into something far more tender and adoring.

Agatha is so good at kissing her that it takes her some time to realize she has been cheated out of her prize.

She stands next to the grave. Agatha stands—floats—next to her.

“So,” she says. “I was thinking. Maybe we should let bygones be bygones. You know, dying really has a way of changing your perspective.”

If only. Rio knows her too well. “What do you want, Agatha?”

Agatha’s ghostly lips shape themselves into a cruel smile as she abandons the pretense that she isn’t doing what she always does, manipulating Rio’s fondness for her own gain. “Information. How does all this—“ here, a motion to her ghostly form, a bit of a twirl. “Work?”

Rio snorts. “How would I know? Ghosts aren’t mine. They deliberately defy the natural order.”

“Oh. Well, then. Ta, darling,” Agatha says, starting to fade.

”Actually, there is one thing I do know about ghosts,” Rio says, contemplating the grave.

“Oh?”

“In the end, they always come to me.”

Agatha considers that, then leans over and taps her on the nose, a whisper of something spectral against her skin that Rio has to work not to flinch back from, she’s really not the biggest fan of ghosts.

“Not the worst fate in the world. But I’m not done yet,” Agatha says with a wink and disappears.

Rio stands frozen for some unknowable duration, then shakes her head with a small smile. Agatha never fails to surprise her.

Fine, then. She’ll wait as long as she needs to—Time means nothing to the end of all things. Eventually, everything is hers.

And now she’s got something new. Hope—also not her domain—that by the time Agatha comes to her, her beloved will finally be ready to admit how much she wants Death.

For something cute, try the wedding

for something angstier, try jealousy

[justevelynnnn]

I want to be more

Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.

Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending

(this is barely proofread too)

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..

It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.

The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.

You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.

You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.

The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.

You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.

You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.

But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.

His name was Logan Howlett.

He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.

At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-

But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.

But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.

He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.

Logan logan logan.

His first encounter with you left an impression.

A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.

He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.

Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.

“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.

Did you want him to have your real or work name?

“It’s y/n.” You said softly.

“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”

You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.

You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.

You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.

You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.

The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?

It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.

You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.

You felt spoiled.

He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.

Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.

You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.

He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.

And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?

You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.

You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.

Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.

The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.

“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”

“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”

“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.”

You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.

Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

These deep feelings.

Limerence.

There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.

Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.

But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.

You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.

However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”

He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.

“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”

You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.

“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.

Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?

“That’s the issue, doll.”

Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..

“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.

“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”

You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.

“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.

Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.

You want to puke.

“Logan-”

“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.

You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.

“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”

“Oh, applesauce…why not?”

“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”

“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”

“Y/n…”

“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.

You swivel back around.

“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.

You’re going to be drinking for days.

[passionateseadruid]

That time Lucifer turned his best friend into a duck

Cw:slight Yandere elements

Lucifer sat on his thrown with a big yellow duck on his lap.

Yep, that's me. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.

—+—

"Lucifer you need to get out of your workshop!" You tried to open the door to his workshop. He'd been in there for 4 days straight and everyone was starting to get worried! (It was more like just you and Charlie (and Vaggie because Vaggie cares about whatever Charlie cares about) but still, he had people who were worried sick about him)

"No! I'm fine! I just need to put the finishing touches on my tropical vacation duck  and I'll be right out!"

"You have said that every hour I came by! First it was cowboy duck, then it was bunny duck, then it was maid dress duck, and last time it was steampunk duck! What will it be next time? Maybe a Vaporeon duck or a witch duck?" You huff.

"OOOOH! Wait let me write that down!" He said excitedly

"LUCIFER!!" You groaned and struggled with the golden doorhandle.

"Come on, apple-tart! Just one more duck!" Lucifer begged.

You finally decided to try lock-picking the lock. "Sorry Duckie, but this is for your own good!"

"Wait! No! Please! I'll do anything! Just let me make one more duck!"

You finally heard the lock click and the door handle finally turned. You opened the door as Lucifer screamed and a gold light came at you faster than you could react. When your vision came back you were standing only a foot off the ground, the world towered before you.

Lucifer... WHY AM I SHORTER THAN YOU!

You said in your mind but all that came out was "Quack! Quack Quack!"

"Well um... is that really important? The important thing is that I'm not the shortest person in the room for once!"

Ugh... of course you understand duck.

"Wait! How'd you know you're a duck now?"

It's kinda obvious. I mean, what other animal quacks?

"oh… well shit.”

Lucifer! I don't want to be a duck!

"But you're so cute as a duck." He stuck his bottom lip out and pouted.

Don't you dare do that! You know I can't say no to you when you look so sad.

"I'm just saying… a real best friend would do whatever it takes to make me happy…"

That's incredible manipulative and hypocritical! As my best friend you should respect my wish to not be a duck!

"But…" He tried to think of some way to persuade you. "If… if you were a duck, I’d pamper you… and then we’d both have our needs taken care of!"

You promise that if I let you pamper me in duck form you’ll take care of yourself? You asked skeptically.

"I promise." He nodded, pride dripped in his voice.

…fine! I will stay a duck… BUT JUST FOR TODAY!! You’re turning me back tomorrow!

Lucifer squealed in delight and scooped you up to hold you in his arms. It sucks being shorter than Lucifer.

—+—

At first he was just cuddling you and brushing out your feathers.

Lucifer... how is this helping either of us?

"It's making you look pretty, and in turn that bolsters my reputation." He said proudly.

WHAT REPUTATION? YOU'RE A HERMIT! YOU NEVER LEAVE THE PALACE UNLESS CHARLIE INVITES YOU OVER!

"Shh... apple pie, just let me have this. It feels good doesn't it?"

...

"Apple pie?"

I plead the fifth.

—+—

Next it was feeding you.

"Here!" He feed you grape by individual grape.

Lucifer, you don't need to feed me by hand. I may not have opposable thumbs anymore but that doesn't mean that I'm a helpless baby.

"I know, but I'm pampering you! You promised that I could pamper you." He booped your beak.

I suppose I did...

"Good, now shut up." He pushed one more grape into your mouth

You are eating yourself right?

"Of course! Two for you... and one for me." He popped a grape in his mouth and scritched under your chin.

ahhhh... You quacked purred in delight.

You looked up to see Lucifer had the most smug look on his face. "See? I knew you enjoyed being my pet~"

The double entendre was not lost on you. You were so glad that you were a duck right now so Lucifer couldn't see how absolutely flustered you were.

You stepped on a grape, spraying it's juices all over you. What a shame. Guess we have to put this little conversation on hold while you bathe me.

He smirked like he just won the argument. "You're not exactly helping your case." He teased.

Just get the bubbles going...

—+—

Then it was bathing you.

He starts to take off his vest and unbutton his shirt.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

"What does it look like I'm doing? I don't want to get my clothes wet." He rolled his eyes.

B-but... why do you need to be shirtless?! Don't you have a tank top or a robe or something to put on?!

His smirk became devious. "Do I make you... nervous?"

Please don't be weird while I'm in a duck body

"Good point." He picked you up and dropped you over the tub. "Now let's get that purple out of your beautiful feathers, shall we?"

Mhm! You smiled and leaned into his hands. His charcoal hands were softer than expected. His fingers were tender as they worked the shampoo through your soft, delicate, yellow feathers. Maybe being a duck wasn't so bad. Maybe being his pet wasn't so bad.

—+—

So that's basically how you got here. Wrapped in a towel, in Lucifers lap (while he sat above the residents of hell on his throne), as he pet you again.

Duckie... 'm tired...

"You're tired apple pie?" He smiled softly at you.

mhm...

"wanna go to bed?" He offered and walked toward his room

Want you to hold me too... you need your sleep...

He laughed. "I know, apple pie. I know."

You promise you'll stay with me?

"I promise." He laid down with you on his chest.

—+—

The next morning he woke up before you did...

And he saw you back in your normal form... but instead of the clothes you were in when you were turned...

you were in nothing more than a feather silk robe...

"Oh golly..." His face turned into a beautiful gold hue.