#and if you are repeating the same thing over and over again with the same (or similar) results no matter how much you love it

[melsidlehands]

She sat among the dry ashes with her knees against her chest, crying deep, heaving sobs of anguish. Her tears sparkled as they left the tip of her chin and glowed briefly before the dry earth extinguished them. She finally heaved a deep breath. "Why?" she asked.

I studied the child. It wasn't so long ago I'd been a human, myself, and asked the same questions, fraught with frustration at the destruction I created. "Many reasons," I said.

"But we hurt people!"

I nodded. "Yes. That is unavoidable."

"It's completely avoidable!"

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. "Okay, sure, if you want to stop existing."

She raised her tear-streaked face and looked at me. "What... what does that mean?"

"You can't live your entire existence without hurting someone. It can't be done. To try would mean reducing your imprint until you are unnoticeable, which is tantamount to death. And you are a goddess of destruction."

She drew in a deep breath, and let out a scream. "I don't want to be!"

I looked around at the charred remains of the forest. "I understand."

This seemed to surprise her. "You do?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course." I glanced back at her. "Did you think I was not young once, and preferred being docile and 'kept' over this?" I gestured to the ashes.

"You can do that?"

I nodded. "Yes. You can be small, serve the humans in your way; be the spark in an engine, the crack of a firework." I sat down with her against the charred skeleton of an ancient tree. "But kept things have no power. And if they have no power, they cannot be respected. If they are kept long enough, they die, like a candle under glass. And then the universe folds in on itself without someone to govern those things you neglect; the gas explosions, the nuclear plants, the repeated tattoo of their guns."

She looked at her knees again, and her voice seemed to crumble. "I wish I could die."

"No, you feel guilty for existing because you do not comprehend your existence. You feel like your power is a thing you must tightly rein in, instead of rejoicing in it."

She sprang to her feet. "What is there to rejoice in? Look around you! I did this! I killed people, torched their homes, burned their memories!"

"You did not."

"I... what?"

I looked up at her, my own knees against my chest now. "What you have done is to push stagnant people to evolve. We are the forces that cause metamorphoses; adapt or die. We do not kill or destroy because we enjoy it, but because it serves something greater even than us."

She looked at her hands and thought carefully about that. "So... do we just not care?"

"Of course we do. We love fiercely, and our grief and anger are dangerous things, even to ourselves. This is why we have Hope."

"Hope? What does that do?"

"She," I corrected. "She is the bravest thing in the universe; the force that moves the infinite forward. She is not delusion or reckless abandon; she on her own inspires more fear than any of us." I nodded at the young goddess. "She knows where the souls go. They do not disappear, but continue moving forward. Maybe one day they too will be brave. Houses will be rebuilt. Grief will be assuaged. And memories fade. Only the lessons remain." I finally stood up again. "We are old. We last. After awhile, our first tragedies seem small and fragile. If you hold onto them too tightly, you won't grow."

"I don't know if I want to," she said softly.

"I know. And nobody is saying it has to be now." I put my hand on her shoulder. "But stars only shine because they burn, child. They are dangerous, and so must we be." I started making my way back toward the obliterated city of Hiroshima.

"And... what about the people?"

I turned and looked at her. "Watch them for a hundred years or so. They all burn fast, but the most interesting ones burn bright with a fire even we envy."

"What kind of fire?" she asked, following at last in my footsteps.

"Love."

As the God of Fire, the Supreme God has tasked you to supervise and educate a newly manifested Goddess. You find a sad, terrified, and confused child, fearful of her powers and the destruction it caused the mortal realm. You are to guide a being born from Man's work, The Goddess of Explosions.

[cinnamonest]

Thinking again about forced cultural assimilation, particularly linguistic… snatched up by some foreign visitor to your homeland, dragged far far away and thrust into an environment where you can't understand a single thing.

You don't understand anything said around you — all the others in this place you're kept in (underlings, servants, partners in crime, whatever they are) are constantly talking to each other and to your captor, saying so much, yet it's all meaningless babble to you, a frustrating barrier of confusion and unknown that makes you feel on edge, a constant state of discomfort and unease.

You know they're talking about you, given the glances your way, but you don't know exactly what. It's a very discomforting feeling.

It's actually quite endearing, the way you bite your lip and cling to him out of perpetual bewilderment and fear whenever you're brought out of your room… still, at the moment, he's forced to resort to your language to communicate with you, which he doesn't like.

But that's okay. You'll learn.

It's not like you have a choice. Even if you're stubborn and noncompliant at first, it's no big deal. He just won't respond to anything you say until you say it in the correct tongue. It's adorable, watching you get so frustrated at the silent treatment, your stubbornness slowly breaking down until you finally give in and start making a very clumsy, stuttering attempt to communicate correctly.

But it's only fair that you do try. You know, if you're going to be living in a foreign land for the rest of your life, you have a responsibility to learn… okay, sure, you didn't exactly choose to live here, but that's not really relevant.

So you'll learn. He'll help you, of course, aren't you grateful? He went out of his way to buy learning books to get you started. And even if you're too stubborn to utilize them at first, a couple of hours in isolation with nothing else to do will essentially force you into at least looking them over, even if merely out of boredom. He'll set it up as a reward system — if you study a few hours a day, you get to do something else. Any other sort of activity or stimulation is withheld from you, kept behind a barrier, forcing you into compliance.

But that's not enough, you need direct practice. So he'll integrate learning into your daily life.

If you want to get dressed and not have to walk outside naked — and you could, don't think he won’t do it, it would be so funny watching all those other men drool and crowd around you, make you the center of attention to all their hollering and jesting — you'll just have to ask for your clothes piece by piece.

P-please, give me the… the…

And he just sits there and holds your shirt so close yet just our of your grasp, patiently waiting for you to remember. You've gone over it several times now. But even if you give up, he'll tell you again — you need to repeat it several times, though, before you finally get it.

Meal time is also turned into a learning ordeal — you're made to ask for a plate, for water, to have salt or anything passed over to you, all perfectly, all of which is kept out of your reach until you do so.

You hate the smile he always gives you, the little pats on the head and praise for saying things correctly. It feels mocking, demeaning, more than anything — and you're fairly certain he intends it that way.

Because it's not like he hesitates to make fun of you either — snickering with a hand over his mouth when you say certain words, repeating what you said with a mock exaggeration of your accent as if it's peak comedy. But hey, don't pout like that. It's just cute, that's all… and a little bit of revenge, if you recall, you once teased him the same way, back when he was just some foreigner visiting your land that you happened to become acquainted with. How the tables turn, yeah?

At night, you're held firmly in place — a normally sweet gesture, arms wrapped around you, yet a grip so tight it ruins any semblance of affection.

What did you do today?

You stumble out some words. You mess up the past tense. You're made to say it over again.

How do you feel today?

He's decided ‘good’ alone is no longer an adequate answer, so you have to elaborate, be more detailed.

You'll answer questions on things like weather, recall what they said on the news and such. Moreover, you can't neglect those reading and writing skills, so you'll have to comply with him on exercises for that too. He even went out of his way to get some newspapers for you to read aloud to him for practice. You should be grateful he's so nice.

Other times, it's not so nice.

When you've done something wrong, been bad, even then, you're not exempt from it being turned into a lesson. Bent over his knee, skirt pulled up to the end of your spine, shaking and grinding your teeth. At least you have the dignity of being behind closed doors, but that's not much.

What did you do?

As it turns out, panic is not conducive to coherent sentences. Your mind goes blank, you struggle to summon any words at all, much less ones you have to mentally structure before you speak. Harsher swats — you squeal, squirm, try to pull yourself forward, just for the hand on your shoulder to jerk you back into place — indicate a mistake. You'll have to try again, and it will continue until you get it correct — and then some more, for whatever you did in the first place.

What do you say?

You're sniffling and trembling, but at least that one is easy, a phrase so often uttered it's permanently etched into your brain.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

There's a few such phrases that come to you very naturally, without any real effort to recall, but you're not proud of it. No, you resent, you loathe, how deeply your vocabulary is entrenched in filth, simply due to how frequently you're made to speak such words.

You still struggle to remember the words for door or apple or lamp, but you know how to say cock and cum and fuck without the slightest pause.

You had to stutter and stumble over trying to ask one of the others ‘excuse me, what time is it?’, but you can perfectly recite the words you say every single night — please let me cum, please go harder, it feels so good.

Likewise, you begin to better make out the words he mutters and growls into your ear every night — you wish you didn't, wish you couldn't understand the humiliating words about how much he enjoys violating you, loves watching you fight and squirm, loves seeing you struggle.

Unfortunately, you also begin to understand what the others around you are saying all the time. When you first came, you didn't understand a word, but still felt the burning knot in your stomach of embarrassment, knowing whatever it was was clearly derogatory and humiliating, with the way they looked at you, the gestures and cheeky grins.

You wish you still didn't understand, that you couldn't make out the crude, vulgar words. Comments about your body, your thighs and your chest, all the joking comments about how they don't blame your captor for abducting you, after all, I'd want to be inside of that too.

But unfortunately, those vulgar comments are pretty much all your grasp from them — those are, after all, spoken at moments of rest, when they're all just lounging around, each word more drawn out. When you're forced to sit there through more serious discussions (clinging to your captor’s arm like a lifeline, the way he makes you feel safe from the scary men he associates with), they just speak so damn fast that you can't catch more than the occasional single word or two that you recognize, the rest a jumbled haze of meaningless sounds.

It's all so frustrating, so humiliating, you hate the dependency, you hate the power exchange that both of you are mutually aware of, yet left unspoken — the fact that you're the one forced into his way of life. The words themselves are more than words, more than their literal meanings — each one serves as a little reminder that you're owned, each is another way of forcing submission out of you. It makes you angry, makes you bitter, makes you resentful.

One day, that resentment drives you over the edge, all of a sudden, as you're being chastised and reprimanded for whatever misbehavior you've engaged in. Your fists clench and your face contorts with fury and you break.

A slurry of heated, snarling words come pouring out of your mouth — words in your tongue, familiar words. Saying that you won't do what he said to, that he doesn't get to tell you what to do, saying that you're sick of it all, saying he doesn't scare you, saying you'll do what you want. Vulgarity and profanity spills out, calling him every nasty word you can think of.

It's so soothing to feel words pour out so naturally, not having to pause to think about them. It's cathartic, you feel your heart pounding with rage and frustration and relief—

—and then your blood runs cold when you turn your head and see him looking back at you. Silent, eyes narrowed, quietly letting you go on and on and dig the hole deeper. He only smiles when your words come to a halt.

What's wrong?

Now you're so quiet, standing there shaking. You’re pulling your clasped hands up to your chest and shrinking back, your eyes start to water… but didn't you just say you're not scared of him? Why are you stepping backwards now?

And you say those words again —

I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

It’s so satisfying that you immediately switch back, after such a heated outburst. Deep down, even if you're still too proud to accept it, you really do know your place. You're still repeating it over and over as you're dragged by the hair back to your room, as if apologies will save you from whatever he's going to do to you.

But really, he kind of hopes you never master the language in full. How scared you are all the time, surrounded by a world that you struggle to make sense of, the way you're forced to depend on him so much… admittedly, it's a very satisfying feeling. And hey, the accent is cute, too.

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x Disabled!Reader

SFW

Word Count: 1172

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Confinement, Ableism (what else do we expect from him), Invasion of personal space, Stockholm Syndrome (if you squint), Reader uses a cane to walk, Reader suffers from chronic pain.

Additional Notes: Mahito has feelings he doesn't understand.

“Why are you broken?”

The sentence wasn’t an unfamiliar one. In fact, it was one you’d grown quite accustomed to over the years, in all manner of phrasings, but the sting of it never lessened.

‘I’m not’ is what you wanted to say - to insist that nothing was wrong with you, but such a bald-faced lie would do nothing for you.

“I just am.” You replied, not looking up from the thread you were pulling at in your nest - piles of discarded clothing and fabrics Mahito had no use for. It was makeshift bedding that did little to aid the pain you experienced on a daily basis.

Mahito’s whine caused you to look up in time to see him roll his eyes at your answer, his unsatisfied huff blowing a few strands of his bangs out of his face.

“Yes, I know that.” He bent at the waist, arms extended out, and propped up on the handle of your cane as he rested his weight on it in front of you. For a moment you were reminded of a noir film star in the silent picture era. ”I’m asking why.”

A frown pulled at your lips while a grin stretched across his.

“I’ve already told you.”

“You told me nothing that made any sense, I want details.”

“And what about what I want?” The words were impulsive - gone before you could register how bad of an idea they were.

Luckily, although sometimes you supposed ‘unluckily’, Mahito’s interest in how you spoke to him far outweighed any potential consequence they’d have. It was different, he’d once told you. Brave, yet stupid - like how a small dog would try to fight something much bigger than itself.

A squeak sounded around the cold concrete of the sewer as Mahito squeezed the foam covering of your cane’s handle, and it was hard. Hard not to let anger simmer in your soul at the nonverbal taunt, because that’s what he wanted. A reaction.

Your reaction.

“Why are you broken?” Mahito repeated, his tone and inflection the same as before while he cocked his head.

Again, it was hard not to react.

“I have… problems. In my spine.”

‘Problems’ felt like the best term to use here. With him. Though even still, the word choice caused his expression to practically twist with glee.

“Problems?” He repeated, so much condescension dripping from a single word that it made your stomach churn. “Want me to solve them for you?”

Fear and disgust swam in your heart as much as they did in your gut, and you knew he knew. You knew he could sense it because of the way he looked at you. Hungry for anything you’d give him, both on your own volition and against it.

It was another thing you had grown used to, yet had to swallow down along with the bile that threatened to rise.

“...Not particularly.”

“Why?” This time his tone was petulant as the excitement on his face gave way to disappointed irritation. “It wouldn’t hurt much.”

“Because you don’t even know what it is you would be fixing.”

Mahito drummed his fingers along the cane’s handle. “And whose fault would that be? Don’t you want to get better?” He finished with a coo so mocking your lip twitched - the first of many cracks.

He smiled.

“Of course I do.” Your fingers bunched in the fabric settled in your lap as you practically hissed the words. “But I can’t.”

Mahito hummed and twirled the cane in his hand. “I just offered to.”

You sucked on your teeth. “How generous.” 

“Have I not been with you?.” Laughter mixed with every one of Mahito’s words as he dropped the cane and crouched down in front of you. The nail of his index finger dug into the flesh of your cheek as he poked it, uncaring of the scrape it left behind as he dragged it down your face. “I have yet to hear a single ‘thank you’ for anything, actually, it’s quite rude.”

This time it was your eye that twitched and you had to look away from him.

What was there to be thankful for? Sparing you, maybe, though arguably that was worse than being immediately killed. Learning what he was, what he could do. Ignorance was bliss, and it was difficult to stay that way when the screams of his experiments could go on for hours at a time. 

The food he gave you was another possibility, but even that was laughable. They were scraps at best, and not even given on a regular basis. A large part of you was convinced the half empty bags of chips he'd toss to you was only done so the noise your stomach made would stop interrupting whatever he was reading.

Not that you'd ever tell him such things. You knew it could be worse. Much, much worse.

“Thank you.”

“See? That wasn't so hard!” Mahito patted your cheek twice, making you grimace. “But what are you thanking me for?”

You inhaled deeply. “Everything.”

Mahito’s sharp bark of laughter echoed along the walls, and his fingers grasped your jaw to turn your face back to his.

“‘Everything’?” He cooed, mimicking the pitch and tone of your voice. “I don't think you mean that.”

That was a trap. You knew it was because, once more, he looked at you with that awful hunger in his eyes.

“I do.”

Mahito tutted, “I don't think you do.” His voice almost a sing-song as his nails dug into the skin where your jaw connected to your face. “If you did, you'd let me fix you~.”

“It's not about that.”

“Then what is?” Mahito leaned closer, to the point his nose nearly brushed against yours. It felt like he was trying to look directly into your soul with how intently his eyes bore into yours, and maybe he was. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done such a thing.

Each second that ticked by felt heavier than the last. It made you realize just how dry your throat had been this whole time, and you attempted to wet your lips before speaking again.

“...If you fixed me, you'd get bored.”

Mahito merely continued to stare at you after that. With how close he was, it was easy to watch his expression shifting in real time with his thoughts - a detail that was simultaneously intriguing and frightening.

Eventually he sighed, like an owner disappointed with their pet.

“Bored, huh? That's what you're worried about?” The hand holding your face squeezed your cheeks hard enough to force your lips into a pout. “One little flaw changed and that would be that?”

He didn't wait for you to answer, even if you could. 

“If you think I'd ever get bored of you…” He trailed off, nothing too unusual when he was deep in thought, but it was the way he did it that made you want to wish you'd never said anything in the first place.

“Well. You don’t need to worry about that.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2025. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 3

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

wc: 4.6k (Chapter 3/?)

a/n: getting this chapter out tonight since it’s a bit shorter, but don’t worry, i’ll make it up to you in chapter 4. chapter 4 is where it’s really at, it’s gonna be super lilia-focused and way less coven-heavy. just a heads up, this one’s got mature themes again

Ch. 2

also on ao3

A few days passed, and things between me and Lilia stayed... the same. No mention of The Call, no weird tension, just business as usual. She put me to work, I did my job, and she didn’t avoid me anymore which, in my book, was progress. But deep down, I was dying.

I needed to talk to someone before I lost my mind, so I called an emergency coven meeting. And naturally, they were desperate for an update.

We were all gathered at Agatha’s place, lounging around in various states of anticipation. Jen had popcorn. Billy was practically vibrating with excitement. Alice looked like she was holding her breath.

I took a deep breath. “So... the other night, Lilia accidentally texted me, some sort of gibberish, and then she called me.”

Their eyes widened, leaning in like they were hearing the biggest gossip of the century.

I licked my lips. “And, uh... it wasn’t a normal call.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes. “Define not normal, y/n.”

I sighed. “There were... sounds. ”

Billy blinked. “...Sounds?”

“Sounds.” I repeated, face burning.

Jen’s mouth dropped open, eyes going wide. Alice gasped softly, her hands flying to her cheeks. And Agatha—oh, Agatha just stared at me like I’d personally betrayed her.

“y/n,” she whispered in horror.

I shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence.

And then Agatha whipped a pillow at my head. “YOU IDIOT!”

“OW! What the hell, Agatha?!”

“You’ve been sitting on this information for days? ” she screeched. “Days?! And you’re telling us now?!”

“I needed time to process!” I defended, ducking as she threw another pillow.

Billy, still frozen, muttered under his breath, “Damn... didn’t know Lilia was freaky like that.”

“Guys!” I groaned, covering my face.

Jen, still in shock, finally shook her head and looked at me seriously. “y/n... are you sure she meant to call you?”

Alice, ever the calm one, frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe she thinks she just accidentally phoned you. You said she’s bad with technology, right?”

I blinked. “I mean... yeah, she is. She didn’t even know how to use emojis until last week.”

Agatha perked up. “Oh, this changes everything.”

I raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Agatha grinned like a wolf. “What if she doesn’t know she called you?”

I shrugged. “Yeah I think that’s the case.”

Jen snapped her fingers. “Exactly. Maybe she thinks she just sent a random text. You could be sitting here, obsessing, and she’s none the wiser.”

Billy leaned in with an evil glint in his eyes. “We need to test it.”

I frowned. “Test it how?”

Agatha’s grin widened. “You need to... accidentally send her a nude.”

“WHAT?!” I nearly choked on my drink. “How did you even come to that conclusion?! No! Absolutely not!”

“Not a full nude, obviously,” Agatha said, rolling her eyes. “Something subtle. Lingerie. A little tease. Just enough to see how she reacts.”

Alice, looking scandalized, shook her head. “Guys, that’s not a good idea.”

Jen smirked. “It’s a great idea.”

“No, no, no—” I protested, but before I could stop them, Billy had already snatched my phone.

I lunged for it. “Billy! Don’t you—”

He was too fast, scrolling through my very private folder with an alarming lack of shame. “Damn, y/n, you’ve been holding out on us.”

I groaned. “GIVE IT BACK!”

Agatha peered over his shoulder. “That one.”

Billy grinned, holding up a picture of me in a black lace set—sexy, but not too much. It was just a hint of lace in the photo—suggestive but not overt. Elegant, subtle, and teasingly alluring, showing just enough to make an impression without baring it all.

“No way,” I said, shaking my head furiously. “No freaking way.”

Jen crossed her arms. “Y/n. If she doesn’t know she called you, this is your way of finding out if she’s really interested.”

Agatha smirked. “And if she does know she called you? Well...”

Alice groaned into her hands. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

Billy waggled my phone in front of me. “Y/n, you have to do this.”

I stared at the picture, my heart hammering. “This is insane.”

Agatha grinned. “It’s brilliant.”

Billy cheered, already typing. “Aaaaaand... send.”

I gasped. “YOU SENT IT?!”

The room exploded in chaos.

“Billy, you absolute menace!” I shouted, grabbing my phone back in horror.

“She’s going to kill me!”

Agatha grinned. “Or marry you.”

My phone buzzed. We all froze.

I stared at the screen.

Lilia: ...y/n?

I was going to die.

Billy snatched my phone away before I could even think about replying. “Don’t. Text. Back.”

I gasped, reaching for it. “Billy, give it back! I have to say something! ”

Jen grabbed my shoulders and shook me gently. “No, y/n! Let. Her. Stew.”

Agatha nodded sagely, sipping her wine like this was the most important strategic move of our lives. “Exactly. She needs time to process.”

Alice, looking like she wanted to crawl under the couch and disappear, sighed. “I feel like this is the worst advice ever.”

“THANK YOU,” I exclaimed, pointing at her. “Finally, some sense!”

But Agatha waved a dismissive hand. “No, no. Trust me, y/n. This is the best advice. If you text back too soon, it looks like you’re panicking.”

“I am panicking!” I hissed, pacing the room while Billy kept my phone at arm’s length.

Jen grinned. “Exactly, which is why you don’t text back. Make her wonder. Did you mean to send it? Did you not? Is this some kind of subtle seduction? The mystery will drive her wild.”

I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. “Guys, she’s going to think I’m a complete disaster.”

Agatha smirked. “y/n, sweetheart, you are a complete disaster. But a hot one. And that’s what matters.”

Billy checked my phone again, gasping dramatically. “Oh my God. She’s typing. ”

The room erupted.

“What?!” I nearly tackled him for the phone.

“She stopped typing,” he groaned. “She’s overthinking it.”

I clutched my chest. “I’m going to be sick.”

Alice gave me a sympathetic look. “You could just say it was an accident, you know.”

Agatha looked horrified. “Alice, no. We do not admit to accidents in this house.”

Jen grinned. “She sent that text for a reason. Maybe she was already thinking about it, and now she’s spiraling.”

I slumped onto the couch, burying my face in a pillow. “This is actual torture.”

Billy tossed me my phone. “Okay, fine. If you have to say something, keep it vague. Play it cool.”

I peeked at the screen again. Lilia’s message was still staring back at me.

I swallowed hard. “Okay. Okay. Something vague.”

Agatha leaned over. “Say: ‘Oops.’”

I gawked at her. “Oops?! ”

Jen snorted. “No, no. Say, ‘Wrong person.’”

Billy gasped. “Or just ‘Enjoy.’”

I groaned. “Oh my God, I hate all of you.”

Alice rubbed my back. “Just say something simple like, ‘Ignore that.’”

Agatha scoffed. “Boring. We need drama.”

I exhaled, staring at the keyboard, and against my better judgment, typed:

Me: I can explain.

I hit send before I could overthink it. “WHY DID I DO THAT?!”

Billy cackled. “No, that was perfect. ”

Agatha beamed. “y/n, I am so proud.”

My phone buzzed again.

Lilia: I’m listening.

I just sat there, scared and staring at the screen, heart pounding out of my chest. “What do I even say now?!”

Agatha grinned. “Well, y/n... you tell her exactly what she wants to hear.”

I groaned, clutching my phone like it was a ticking bomb. “Guys, what if it really was an accident? What if she doesn’t even feel that way about me? What if—”

Agatha didn’t even hesitate— WHAM. Another pillow hit me square in the face.

"Y/N.” She huffed, crossing her arms. “She saw you in that dress. She called you while touching herself. Even if it was an accident—which, yes, it probably was—she still went into your contact list and somehow ended up on your name while doing that. She was thinking about you. ”

I groaned into the pillow. “You don’t know that for sure.”

Jen rolled her eyes dramatically. “y/n, honey, if it were anyone else, maybe we'd doubt it. But it's Lilia. Do you know how many people she could’ve accidentally called? A client? Agatha? Billy?! ”

Billy grinned. “That would’ve been awkward.”

Agatha smirked. “And yet... she called you.”

I peeked out from behind the pillow, my voice muffled. “So... what do I do now?”

Jen leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “That’s what we’re finding out.”

Alice, always the cautious one, sighed. “Maybe we’re reading too much into this. What if she was just...” She trailed off, face turning red. “...multitasking?”

Billy burst out laughing. “Multitasking? What, like checking her emails?”

Agatha grinned. “I bet she was thinking about y/n, and then her fingers slipped in more ways than one.”

“AGATHA! ” I screeched, my face going bright red.

She just shrugged, sipping her wine. “Sweetheart, denial isn’t a good look on you.”

I groaned again. “Okay, fine. Let’s say you’re right. What the hell do I do?”

Jen smirked. “You keep her curious. ”

Billy nodded. “Let’s craft the perfect reply. Nothing too direct, but nothing too vague.”

Alice groaned. “Please, just text something normal.”

Jen grinned. “Text her... ‘Are you sure you want me to explain?’”

I blinked. “That’s... terrifying.”

Agatha clapped her hands. “Which is why it’s perfect!”

I stared at my phone, chewing my lip. “I don’t know... what if she thinks I’m messing with her?”

Billy waggled his brows. “Then it’s working.”

Jen nudged me. “C’mon, y/n. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She blocks me, fires me, and I die alone in a pit of regret?” I said, deadpan.

I took a deep breath, heart hammering, and typed:

Me: Are you sure you want me to explain?

I hovered over the send button, looking at them all one last time.

Jen whispered, “Do it.”

I hit send.

The room fell into utter silence.

Alice covered her face. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Billy started counting down. “Three... two... one—”

My phone buzzed.

Lilia: I suppose that depends on what kind of explanation you have in mind.

I sat there, frozen, staring at the screen. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my GOD.”

Agatha grinned like a cat who just got into the cream. “Well, well, well.”

I clutched my phone like it might self-destruct, wide-eyed and spiraling. “Agatha, I SENT HER A NUDE.”

Billy, ever the enabler, smirked. “Barely! It was just a hint of lace. Artful. Tasteful.”

Alice groaned. “It’s still an unsolicited hint of lace.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I’m going to jail.”

Jen snorted. “Okay, drama queen. You’re not going to jail.”

I peeked through my fingers. “You don’t know that! What if she reports me? What if she, oh God, what if she shows someone? What if—”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Sweetheart, breathe. First of all, Lilia wouldn’t do that. Second, she’s intrigued. Look at that response.”

I sat there, frozen, staring at the screen. “Oh my God. Oh my God. What do I say?”

Agatha was already grinning ear to ear. “Oh, baby... you say everything.”

I stared at Agatha, wide-eyed and clutching my phone like it might self-destruct at any moment. “Agatha, really , what do I say?” My voice was barely above a whisper, and I felt like my entire soul was about to leave my body.

Alice, blushing furiously in the corner, mumbled, “Maybe we should reconsider—”

“No,” Jen interrupted, leaning forward with a smirk. “y/n, we all know you’ve got game. You flirt with anyone with a pulse except Lilia. But now? Now is the time.”

I clutched my chest dramatically. “But it’s Lilia,” I whined, my voice a whisper of despair.

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Yes, and you are whipped. But guess what? She is too, whether she knows it yet or not.” She pointed at my phone. “And right now, she’s sitting there, waiting. You want to leave her hanging?”

I swallowed, staring at the message on my screen.

I sighed, staring at my phone. “Okay... so... what do I say? And don’t say anything ridiculous.”

Agatha tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Alright, something simple. How about... ‘I guess I’ll just have to show you instead of explain, hm?’”

Billy gasped. “Oh, that’s good. ”

Alice groaned again. “It’s so not.”

I chewed my lip, staring at the phone. “Okay. Okay... I’ll try something... light.” I exhaled sharply, fingers trembling slightly as I typed.

Me: I think some things are better shown than explained, don’t you?

I hit send, immediately throwing my phone onto the couch like it had personally offended me.

Billy grabbed the phone. “Okay, now we really wait.”

Agatha smirked. “She’s so going to break.”

And then, my phone buzzed.

We all froze.

Jen clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, she replied.”

Billy held the phone out like it was sacred. “Read it, y/n.”

I snatched it from him, my heart pounding.

Lilia: Are you offering to demonstrate, baby?

I screamed into a pillow.

Agatha was howling. “SHE’S FLIRTING BACK!”

Jen high-fived Billy. “She’s down so bad. ”

I sat up, staring at the screen, my fingers tingling. “What do I even say to that?!”

Agatha grinned, patting my shoulder. “You tell her... that you never offer something you can’t follow through on.”

I groaned, falling back onto the couch. I was so doomed.

Agatha snatched my phone from my trembling hands, eyes gleaming with pure chaos. “Alright, sweetheart, time to stop screaming internally and start sexting externally. ”

I lunged for it. “No, no, NO—Agatha, I can’t—”

She held it above her head like a trophy, grinning. “Y/n, baby, this is your moment. If you don’t take it, I will. ”

Billy cackled. “I will never recover if she actually sexts Lilia for you.”

I whined, flopping onto the couch. “I am actually going to combust. ”

Jen reached over and patted my knee. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

Agatha typed something, and I screamed in horror. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

She held the phone just out of reach with an evil grin. “Relax, darling. I’m just... guiding you.”

I lunged at her. “AGATHA NO!”

She dodged me effortlessly, shoving the phone in my face.

Me: I never offer something I can't follow through on.

I stared in absolute horror, my mouth falling open. “You did not just send that.”

Billy fell off the couch, cackling. Jen was wheezing. Alice, bless her, looked like she was praying.

Agatha tossed the phone onto my lap with a smug smile. “I absolutely did.”

I was too stunned to speak, staring at the message like it might explode.

My phone buzzed.

The room fell dead silent.

I hesitated, then peeked at the screen.

Lilia: Good to know, baby.

I let out the loudest, most undignified scream into the nearest pillow, my entire body shaking with embarrassment and something else I didn’t want to name.

Agatha grinned like she’d won a lifetime achievement award. “Ladies and gentlemen... we got her.”

Jen clapped slowly. “y/n, you are so whipped.”

Billy smirked. “So, what’s next?”

I peeked out from the pillow, my face flushed beyond saving. “...I think I need a drink. I need a strong drink.”

Billy, still on the floor in a fit of laughter, wheezed. “You need new underwear, more like.”

I buried my face in my hands. “Oh my God, Billy, shut up. ”

Agatha, lounging like a queen on her throne of chaos, smirked. “He’s not wrong, darling. You’ve barely sexted, and you’re already losing it. I shudder to think what happens when things get... more involved.”

I shot her a glare. “I also need new friends. ”

Alice, looking mildly traumatized but still loyal, patted my arm. “No, you don’t.”

Jen grinned. “Yes, you do.”

Billy nodded. “We’re terrible for you.”

I exhaled dramatically, sinking deeper into the couch. “Why am I friends with you people?”

Agatha shrugged. “Because you love us. And because we’re making your love life interesting.”

I groaned again. “This isn’t interesting, it’s stressful.” I grabbed my phone and checked Lilia’s last message again, my stomach doing things I didn’t want to analyse. Good to know, baby.

Billy grinned. “So, what’s the plan now, baby? ”

I scowled at him. “Don’t call me that.”

Agatha leaned forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now? We let her brood. ”

I frowned. “Brood?”

Agatha nodded sagely. “Lilia is probably sitting there, swirling her wine, thinking about what you said.” She smirked. “So, we let her sit with it. Let it marinate. ”

Alice sighed. “Why do you talk about everything like it’s a steak?”

Agatha ignored her. “The longer she stews, the more she’ll realise she wants you. It’s psychology, y/n.”

I blinked. “It’s torture, Agatha.”

Jen shrugged. “Same thing.”

I sighed, reaching for my drink. “Fine. I’ll let her brood. But if I explode from frustration, I’m haunting all of you.”

Billy raised his glass. “Cheers to y/n’s sexual frustration!”

I groaned. “I need better friends.”

Agatha smirked. “No, sweetheart, you need a better plan.”

I groaned, pacing the room like my life depended on it. “Guys. We do need a plan. I’m working tomorrow. Oh my God, I have to face her after this.”

Billy grinned, way too excited. “Y/n, we have the perfect plan.”

I froze, pointing a finger at them. “Oh no. ”

Agatha leaned in with an all-too-smug look. “Listen, listen. You use her facilities again tomorrow.”

I frowned. “For what?”

Jen smirked. “You don’t bring up the texts. Nothing. Just casually be like, ‘Hey, Jen’s picking me up for something later. Mind if I use your shower before we go?’”

I narrowed my eyes. “...She won’t mind that.”

“Exactly,” Agatha purred. “It’s innocent. Harmless. But it plants the idea. And—” she wiggled her brows “this isn’t even about making her think about you naked in her shower.”

Billy grinned. “Although that’s a huge bonus.”

I groaned, covering my face. “Oh my God.”

Agatha leaned in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. “No, the real plan? You’re gonna ‘accidentally’ leave something behind.”

I peeked through my fingers. “Like what?”

Jen smirked. “Something delicate. ”

Billy grinned wildly. “Your underwear. ”

I choked. “ARE YOU INSANE?”

Alice, horrified, threw up her hands. “Okay, that’s it. This has officially crossed a line.”

I pointed at her. “Thank you! Finally, some sanity!”

Agatha beamed. “Oh, honey, it’s genius. Not out in the open, obviously, that’s tacky. You just... leave it somewhere subtle.”

I groaned. “Guys, first a nude and now this? This is so wildly unethical.”

Jen waved a dismissive hand. “Y/n, it could totally be an accident. Just relax.”

Billy grinned. “Besides, how many times do you leave things behind? You’re basically a walking trail of forgotten items.”

I scowled. “That is not the same!”

Agatha ignored me completely. “Somewhere she’ll find it. In the bathroom. Not right away, but later. Maybe under a towel.”

Billy clapped his hands. “Ooh, yes. And not just any underwear. Your lacy black thong.”

I blinked. “I hate you people.”

Jen grinned. “You love us.”

I sat down heavily on the couch, my mind spiraling. “This is insane.”

Agatha sipped her wine with a devious smile. “Insane? No. Effective? Absolutely.”

Billy wiggled his eyebrows. “You leave it behind. And when she finds it, she will think about you wearing it.”

Jen shrugged. “Or not wearing it.”

I groaned. “I am so doomed.”

Agatha smirked. “Honey, you’re not doomed. You’re about to win. ”

The next day, I walked into the shop with every ounce of casual energy I could muster, which wasn’t much considering my heart was pounding hard enough to rattle my ribcage.

Lilia was already behind the counter, flipping through one of her old, worn tarot decks with that signature calm that usually drove me crazy in the best way. But today? Today she was watching me with a different kind of intensity, her sharp brown eyes squinting slightly, like she was trying to figure me out.

I forced a breezy smile, pretending like my entire plan wasn’t currently burning a hole in my brain. Act normal. Don’t think about the nude. Don’t bring up the nude. Just stick to the coven’s plan. “Morning,” I said, casual as ever, even though my heart was doing its best impression of a jackhammer.

Lilia’s eyes lingered on me for a beat longer than necessary before she nodded. “Morning, baby.” Her voice was smooth, but I could tell she was definitely suspicious of something. There was something in her expression, a flicker of hesitation, like she was debating whether or not to say something. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, and for a split second, I was convinced she was about to bring it up. My pulse skyrocketed.

I swallowed hard and leaned against the counter, carefully keeping my tone light. “Hey, uh... Jen’s picking me up later for something. Mind if I use your shower before we go? It’s easier than running home.”

Lilia arched a perfectly shaped brow, eyes scanning me with that same unreadable expression she always wore when she was in the middle something. “Sure,” she said slowly, setting down the cards. “You know where everything is.”

I nodded, offering her my best innocent smile. “Thanks, you're the best.”

She didn’t respond right away, just kept squinting at me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t quite put together. And me? I just smiled harder and grabbed a stack of inventory to avoid the weight of her gaze.

When the time came, I slipped into the back and into Lilia’s bathroom, which was as eccentric as the rest of her shop. Dark tiles, candles lined along the bathtub, and shelves filled with lotions and oils that probably dated back to the Renaissance. It smelled like lavender and something distinctly her.

I stared at myself in the mirror, steeling my nerves. “Okay, y/n. You can do this. It’s just underwear. Totally normal. Happens all the time.”

I was going to hell. Or jail.

Stripping down, I went about my plan like it was just another casual part of my day, showering quickly and then carefully leaving my lacy black thong under the fluffy towel on the floor. Not too hidden, not too obvious. Just... enough.

I pulled my dress on, took a deep breath, and stepped back into the shop, cool and composed. Totally normal. Totally casual. Totally not panicking.

Lilia glanced up from behind the counter again, her lips twitching like she was biting back some comment. “Feel better?”

I smirked. “Refreshed.”

She gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Good.”

And then she went back to her task, but there was a tension in her shoulders now, something almost... calculated. Like she was waiting.

I played it cool. I clocked out, waved goodbye, and walked out of the shop like I didn’t just leave my underwear in her bathroom like some kind of seductress. Like I hadn’t sent her a not-really-a-nude the day before and was now waiting for the earth to swallow me whole.

Once I was safely out of sight, I all but sprinted to Jen’s car, throwing myself into the seat with a groan.

Jen took one look at me and grinned. “You did it, didn’t you?”

I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. “I hate myself.”

Agatha, lounging in the backseat, cackled. “Oh, sweetheart, we are so proud.”

Billy, leaning between the seats, grinned. “Now we wait. ”

And wait we did.

I lay sprawled across my bed, staring at the ceiling in utter defeat. Midnight had come and gone, and still, nothing. No message, no call, no acknowledgment of the very bold move I had pulled earlier.

I groaned, flipping onto my stomach and burying my face into my pillow. “I fucked it,” I mumbled to myself.

After waiting at Agatha’s with the coven for hours, laughing nervously and waiting for my phone to buzz with some reaction, I finally gave up and went home. Now, alone in the dim glow of my bedside lamp, it felt so much worse.

I was so stupid. Why did I think this would work? Lilia was too composed, too controlled. Maybe she just tossed the lingerie aside without a second thought, chalking it up to a careless mistake. Maybe she thought I was an immature idiot. Or worse—maybe she was uncomfortable. What if she thought I’d crossed a line? What if she was sitting in her armchair right now, contemplating whether or not to sue me for harassment?

I sighed heavily, rolling onto my back and closing my eyes. “Never listening to the coven again,” I muttered.

And then, my phone rang.

I shot upright so fast I nearly knocked it off the nightstand. My heart leapt into my throat as I stared at the caller ID.

Lilia Calderu.

My fingers trembled as I swiped to answer. “Hey,” I greeted cautiously, my voice softer than I intended. “Everything okay?”

For a moment, nothing but silence. And then, heavy breathing.

Thick, slow, and uneven breathing that sent a shiver down my spine. My stomach tightened, and I gripped the phone tighter.

When Lilia finally spoke, her voice was thick, strained— heavy.

"You left your panties here."

My entire body locked up, heat rushing to my face so fast I thought I might combust on the spot.

“Shit,” I blurted out, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry. You can just... put them aside. Or throw them out. Or whatever you want.”

She hummed, a slow, thoughtful sound that sent every nerve in my body into overdrive.

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to scream into a pillow. “Lilia...”

And then...

It was faint, barely there, but unmistakable. A muffled, strangled moan.

My eyes widened.

Oh. Oh.

The embarrassment that had been gnawing at me all night started to fade, slowly replaced by something deeper, heavier, something... dangerous.

My breath caught in my throat, and for a second, I thought I might actually pass out. Heat pooled low in my stomach, and my grip on the phone tightened like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

Her breathing deepened, each slow inhale crackling through the line like it was too much, too intimate, too intentional.

I felt it everywhere, creeping under my skin, settling in my chest like a live wire. My pulse pounded, my thoughts racing with the very real possibility that, oh God, she’s actually...

I squeezed my eyes shut. This was insane. This was so wildly hot. My fingers tightened around the phone, my breath coming quicker, my entire body thrumming with the weight of it.

“What are you doing, Lilia?” I asked, my voice quieter, more deliberate.

Her breathing hitched, and the pause stretched long enough to make my pulse pound in my ears. Another sharp exhale followed, and I swore I could hear the faintest rustle of fabric, the softest shift of movement. And then, a whispered curse, low and breathy, slipping from Lilia’s lips like she didn’t mean for me to hear it. Her breathing stopped for a split second, and then she exhaled sharply.

And then, "What are we doing, baby?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. I sat there, lips parted, completely frozen.

“I can’t, y/n,” she whispered, the words almost pained.

And then click.

The call ended.

I stared at the phone in shock, my pulse racing so hard I thought it might burst through my chest.

I flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to process what just happened.

"She wants me," I whispered to myself.

And suddenly... I wasn’t so sure I’d fucked it after all.

[miwiheroes]

literally whenever i go to strange things youtube and every single thing i see is the same idea repeated over and over again. like people!!!! why don't you come up with something new by urself rather than regurgitating what you have heard on tiktok please im begging!!!

i literally roll my eyes so hard whenevr i see one of those "rating st characters based on how likely they are to die" because i know for a fact that they are going to put Will at 100%. I gotta tell myself that they don't know the things that I know, which are all the interviews from the Duffers about Will's happy ending and stuff...

i used to be worried that will's dying but like-- i can't even imagine it now. it would feel so cheap and predictable. and when has anyone ever predicted any plotline to a stranger things season tbh??

"Steve will die saving Dustin";

"Eddie will came back from the dead";

"The end of the series will be an Mike and Eleven marriage scene";

"Will gonna end up dead as the series ends".

[heartsforjh]

I shall break my Quinn strike and ask for my favorite Hughes

Gimme Luke with “i thought you hated when people touch you?” he needs a black cat girlfriend for his golden retriever vibe😔🙏

this one was suspiciously easy for me to write so if it’s actually bad i’m VERY sorry… i knew something was up. 🙏

“Mom! Luke won’t stop making me upset!” your best friend, Jack, calls out.

“Luke, quit messing with your brother!” Ellen says, sorting through old family photos.

“I’m not messing with him! I’m messing with Y/n!” the younger boy whines.

“Your brother and his friend don’t want to play with you right now. You can play with Y/n when Jack has to go back to school,” Ellen explains.

“And he won’t stop touching her, Mom! He knows she doesn’t like it, but he keeps grabbing her hand and pulling her!” Jack continues to snitch.

“Alright, Jack. I’m handling it.”

“Okay, just making sure. Come on, Y/n. We don’t have to play with him,” Jack says, ushering you out of the living room. You feel bad, looking back at Luke as Jack pushes you out of the room without actually putting his hands on you. You give a little wave to Luke before disappearing from sight.

“Are you guys excited to start middle school?” Quinn, the oldest Hughes brother, asks as you and Luke sit at the dinner table.

“Well, I guess I am. I’m kind of nervous because I know it’ll be so different,” you admit before taking a bite of your food.

“It’s a good thing you have Luke! I’m glad the two of you get to start these milestones together!” the boys’ mom says.

“Yeah, Y/n! We have each other! It’s gonna be fun. We can sit next to each other at lunch and everything,” Luke says excitedly. He gets carried away while talking and starts messing with some strands of your hair, which Jack immediately notices.

Jack is quick to slap Luke’s hand away from your hair. “She doesn’t like you touching her! And she doesn’t need you. I already started middle school a year ago. I can tell her everything she needs to know.”

“Fine. I won’t touch her. It was an accident,” Luke says, feeling bad for forgetting again that people touching you makes you uncomfortable.

“How do you accidentally touch someone?! That doesn’t just happen! You—” Jack starts, only to be cut off by his dad stepping in with a stern, “Boys!”

It would be a lie to say that the rest of the dinner was ruined. This happens a lot, and everyone is used to it. Luke gets to talking, becomes excited, and, being a touchy person, accidentally does something to make Jack upset. It repeats like clockwork.

You got in. You really got in! The University of Michigan has accepted you as a student, and you couldn’t be happier. Of course, Luke is going too. You’re not mad about it at all. You expected it and, honestly, you’re glad. While you’re closest with Jack, having Luke complete all the same milestones with you has always been comforting.

You’re at the small party your family and the Hughes family put together to celebrate you and Luke. After finishing a conversation with one of their cousins, you head into the kitchen for a drink. Luke is already there at the counter, grabbing a drink for himself. When he turns around and sees you, he smiles.

“Hey!” he says, his eyes lighting up. You walk over to stand next to him and grab a cup.

“Hey. This is a cool party, right?” you ask, looking up at him and trying to make conversation.

He nods and grabs your favorite tea, pouring it into your cup for you. “Oh for sure. It’s great they did this for us. You ready to go to UMich?”

You smile a little nervously, looking at him. “I mean, I guess. I’m kind of nervous. You’re not?”

“No way! I’ve wanted to go to this school forever. So have you! You should be ecstatic. What’s the matter?” he asks, concerned.

“Well… y’know, it’s gonna be so different,” you confess, the nerves clear in your tone.

“It’s a good thing we’ll have each other, then. I’m not just gonna let you fall on your face, Y/n. I love you too much for that,” he says, his face full of emotion.

For the first time since the whole college mess, you feel relieved. “Really? Thanks, Lukey. I love you too.”

You close the space between the two of you and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest. However, Luke freezes.

You frown a little and tilt your head to look up at him, your chin still resting on his chest. “Uh… Y/n? Is this, like… on purpose?” he asks, looking stressed.

You laugh, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he says, his voice cracking slightly.

You think about it for a moment before responding. “I suppose I do. But not you.”

“Not me? I get yelled at every time I so much as look at you!” he says, surprised.

You pat his stomach and shake your head. “Lukey, that’s all Jack. Take it up with him. I like you… a lot. I always have.”

“You’ve liked me back this whole time and Jack’s ruined it?!” he asks, shocked.

You smile and nod. “Yeah! To be fair, I don’t think he knew. He just thought you were annoying me.”

“Whatever. He’s not here to ruin it now,” Luke says, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight.

In the next room, Ellen turns to her oldest son, beaming. “It worked!”

Quinn smiles. “I told you they’d figure it out, and all it took was distracting Jack a little.”

tags: @beenucks @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton @r0wdymaize86

join the taglist here! :)

[sturnlsstuff]

https://www.tumblr.com/sturnlsstuff/773326019056877568/what-is-ghostfacechris-doing-rn

can you please please make a fan fiction about this!

GHOSTFACE!CHRIS HAS WAYS TO GET YOU TO TELL HIM ABOUT YOUR DAY...

chris leaned back against the headboard, the smoke from his joint curling lazily in the air, catching the dim light from the lamp. his eyes flickered over you—half amused, half calculating, as he took another drag, his lips twitching into a lazy smirk. there was no rush in his movements as he keeps circling your clit, just enough to make you flinch before his fingers slid lower.

"so? gonna tell me 'bout your day?" he asks again, his eyes stayed locked on yours, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze as he took another drag from the joint. his voice thick with the kind of lazy confidence that only someone like him could pull off. it was a request that wasn’t really a request at all— an order wrapped in the guise of a question.

you shivered, caught between the primal pull of him and the sharp realization that if you don't comply, he’ll stop. you were so desperate for more friction, his fingers slowly moving in and out of your dripping pussy, making your pulse race and feeling powerless.

“chris... please—” you whine, but his fingers push deeper, moving in a slow, almost deliberate motion, but at the same time brushing against your g-spot just right.

"no beggin'," he said, his voice sharper now. "just do what i said and tell me 'bout your fuckin' day, or i'll stop. your choice."

"i-i don't know—" you mumble, shifting uncomfortably, trying to gather your thoughts, but your mind was completely blank. the words catch in your throat as chris's finger speed up, sending waves of warmth through you, the wet squelching mixed with your moans fill the room. "don't stop—"

"i will," he replies, puffing out another cloud of smoke. "unless you tell me what'd you do today."

"i— i just..."

"c'mon, talk to me," he insisted. his smirk only grows as you try to lift your hips, urging him to give you more— which only makes him to stop.

"no!" your hand tightens on his shirt as you give him pleading eyes. "please, don't stop, i will— i was just... i was, uh, studying most of the day—" a moan of relief leaves your lips as he starts moving his fingers again, your walls clenching around him.

"keep goin'," he mutters.

"i was just doing my thing, talking to people and....please—"

chris exhaled another cloud of smoke, his expression unreadable. “not good enough,” he said, the casualness of his tone making it sound more like a verdict than a suggestion.

you couldn’t focus, the room felt like it was spinning, the tension between you two thick, like you were being pulled in two directions—toward him, toward the control he held over you, and away from it, trying to grasp onto some shred of yourself. the harder you tried, the less you could remember.

“i...had lunch,” you managed, your voice barely audible. “with some friends. we just… talked. and, o-oh—" your eyes roll back as he finally adds a third finger and speeds up his pace slightly. "i w-went shopping with emma—"

“shopping?” he repeated, his voice tinged with amusement. “and what'd you got, huh?"

you keep trying to focus, but it was like trying to hold onto water. the more you tried to form a coherent thought, the more it slipped away. “uh, actually some— red lingerie—"

now his attention was drawn back to you, his hand stops halway to take another puff. "oh, yeah? and you tellin' me about this now?"

there's only whimpers leaving your mouth as you feel his thumb pressing against your clit and rubbing it in tight circles. "looook how much she likes that game— drippin' all over my hand... wanna cum? then you gotta tell me more..."

"i don't— don't know--"

"don't worry, we have all night," he smirks and curls his fingers perfectly to hit that sweet spot inside you. "gonna show me that lingerie later, yeah? thought ya can gatekeep, hm? that's rude, princess. so rude..."

[marauder-misprint]

Friends

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.4k words

cw: fluff

When Regulus enters the common room, you emerge from your dorm, books and other study materials in hand. Now that you had your nap, you were ready to get all the homework you had been putting off done. Regulus debates telling you about Sirius now. But as he watches you spread out across a table with a determined look on your face, he decides against it. Instead, he stands at your side and leans over the table to see which subjects you’re working on.

“Divination?” he asks.

You nod. “Professor Traumine is checking our dream journals this week and I haven’t had any I actually remember… Care to help?”

“Help?” he asks hesitantly, not really sure what you’re asking of him.

“Making stuff up. What seems like something I’d dream about and then we figure out what it means using the book.” You give him a pleading look. “Please, I’m horrible at making the dreams up. I’ll figure out what they mean on my own.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Regulus pulls up a chair and reaches for the journal you have open.

“Just seeing what you’ve written before. Maybe you can have a repeat dream or something,” he explains.

Between the two of you and the occasional passing friend, you finish the dream portion of the homework fairly quickly. You laugh as you interpret the fake dreams.

“Apparently, there are several family deaths in my future. That’s what, an excuse to miss school or something?”

“Anything about relationships?” Regulus asks, testing the water. 

You give him a sideways glance. “Relationships?”

“Particularly with my brother?” 

“Regulus, I don’t want to talk about him,” you groan. 

He leans forward. “I think you should.”

“Why? What do you need to know?”

“The same question as always. What’s going on between you two?” Instead of sounding accusatory as he had in the past, Regulus sounds arrogant, like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it.

You shrug. “Some kind of friendship, I guess?”

Regulus doesn’t mean to, but he laughs. Loudly and uncontrollably. You stare at him with wide eyes. You can feel the eyes of other Slytherins on the two of you. You had gone from peacefully working on homework and chatting with those who stopped by your table. Now, he was making a scene.

“What the fuck, Reggie?” you hiss.

“Some kind of friendship?” he repeats back to you in between laughs. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No?” 

“Love, darling, dearest friend of mine,” Regulus starts to say, ever so slightly calming himself. “Sirius came looking for you. Pacing the dungeons, hoping to run into you. Friends?”

“Right. Friends,” you say naturally, as if you were simply confirming that there was a giant octopus in the Black Lake.

Your mind, however, starts to spin. Sirius was looking for you? After you called him attractive again, with many synonyms, to his face, in the purest tone of genuinity, without any sense of tease. After telling him he was a good time. After saying that you maybe should write to him… You curse yourself for having said so much.

“Friends,” you echo yourself despite Regulus not saying anything.

He cocks an eyebrow. “So you said.” Then he smiles wickedly. “Or are you trying to convince yourself that’s all it is?”

“Regulus,” you warn, your voice dropping low. 

“I wasn’t so sure about it before, but I think I’ve played matchmaker,” he says with a smile.

“If anyone has the right to claim matchmaker, it’s Dorcas. Or… or Lupin and Potter. Certainly not you!”

“Aha! So there is a match!”

Your face grows hot. That wasn’t how you meant for it to come out. There wasn’t a match. It was just you realizing that Sirius wasn’t too bad and you liked being around him and he was fun and attractive and he smelled nice and there was something about the way he always had cigarettes with him that he was willing to share and the way he carried himself and… Shit. 

You gather your things in a panic.

“I will, uh, erm, see you tomorrow? I… I gotta go…”

You return to your dorm and hide within the curtains of your bed. Regulus was right: someone had played matchmaker.

---

You avoid Regulus in the morning. If anyone mentions either Black or Gryffindor, you change the topic or leave the conversation. You’re more skittish than usual. You’re more flighty than usual. You can’t seem to focus on anything besides your current crisis. 

Yes, you’re calling it a crisis. 

You manage to survive the day and you’re feeling a little better. You think you’ll be able to hide in your dorm again until you completely sort out your thoughts. 

But then his voice rings down the hallway. Sirius calls out your name. 

“Hey!” he says, running up to you.

“Hi?” you reply cautiously. You didn’t know if you were ready for a conversation with him.

“I-uh, how have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Yeah… good. You?”

The air between you feels thick with things unspoken. You certainly aren’t going to acknowledge it though. You’d rather this be a quick conversation so you can keep your wits about you.

“Going a bit crazy, if I’m honest,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows and tilt your head. “Is that so? What for?”

You start to walk and Sirius immediately falls in step with you. You aren’t sure where you are going, but it feels more natural to be moving than loitering outside a classroom. Depending on where you went, it would also be easier to shake Sirius if you felt like you were actually going to lose your cool. 

“Been meaning to, wanting to talk to you.”

“Well,” you chuckle, “here I am.”

“Right. Here you are. And here I am,” he says, laughing at himself. 

You wait for him to continue.

“I… I… I’m just going to come out and say it. Yes. That’s what I’m going to do.” He swallows thickly. “I like spending time with you. A lot. And I’d like to go on another date with you. To Hogsmeade, to a quidditch game, to the kitchens, hell, I don’t care. I didn’t think I’d need to talk to Regulus again and I really want to, if you want to.”

You stop walking. You clutch your things tightly to your chest. Sirius took a few steps beyond you before realizing that you weren’t next to him anymore. He turns back to you with worry etched into his face. 

“You don’t want to, do you?” he mumbles, looking down at the ground. “I thought after what you said last weekend…”

You take a shaky breath. “No… Shit, no. I do. I mean, I’m not against it.”

SIrius looks up, his eyes sparkling with emotion. He moves closer to you as his worry slowly melts away. 

“You do?”

You nod, not trusting your words. He gently puts a hand on the side of your shoulder.

“Then why do you look like you’re about to faint?”

You take another breath. “Because… I meant what I said. After the party… And I was so hellbent on not caring for you, but, ah, here we are?” You let out a nervous chuckle and tighten your grip on your books.

“Here we are,” he repeats, his lips curling into a smile. 

“But you want to take me to a quidditch game, you’ll be waiting until next term…”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah, I’m not waiting that long. So, sneak to Hogsmeade? Picnic? Visit the kitchens? I’ll do whatever you want to. I just… I want to spend time with you.”

You press your lips into a thin line as you think. 

“How about a walk? Just like around the grounds or something. And we can stop by the kitchens after?”

He nods vigorously. His excitement is so palpable that you can’t help but smile at him.

“I’d love that.”

“Too bad Padfoot isn’t here to enjoy it though,” you tease. 

“D’you miss him?” Sirius asks with a smirk.

“I miss dogs in general. You do have a cute one though,” you say thoughtfully. 

Sirius chuckles and throws an arm around your shoulder. “I mean, if all goes well, maybe you can visit the Potters and hang out with Padfoot over break.”

“That’s… that’s some kind of wishful thinking, Black. Dunno if we’ll be there after a second date.” 

“Worth a shot,” he says. “As long as you write me.”

“With that quill you bought me? Let’s see how this walk goes first.”

“This walk? Are we doing it now?” He sounds flustered. 

“No. Salazar, no. I have assignments to do.” You pause and bite the inside of your lip. “Tomorrow after class?” 

“Tomorrow.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine, @ravisinghs-wife, @azure-drag0ness, @sunowee, @mysteriouslyperfecttiger

Just a warning for all of you lovely people: I think we are nearing the end of this series. I'm feeling like a max of two more chapters. Thank you for all the love y'all have shown this series - every comment/like/reblog means the world to me

[usagiarchive]

angel of the codeine scene — [08] tears of luhua pool

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sypnosis. [ 1.9k words. angst. ] — history repeats itself.

usagi's note: y'all r gonna hate me for this chapter... but hey this is the longest update yet ^^ um yeah okay bye enjoy hopefully!

The Conqueror of Demons was known as a calm-headed warrior who prioritized efficiency over bloodthirst when he battles.

The same cannot be said right now.

Just a few seconds before, Xiao had come across travelling merchants being attacked by infected mitachurls and hillichurls.

Just as he called upon his mask and weapon, the wind carries your voice to him.

His body forms goosebumps all over as he can feel the cold settle over his body.

“Xiao, please help- shit!”

It was like everything was happening all over- no, he can't, he won't let it happen all over again.

Xiao releases a wave of deadly miasma as he lunges his polearm towards the beasts.

“Stay alive,” he says, “I'll get there even if it kills me,”

…

Shit.

Not only was there a pyro whopperflower, there was an electro whopperflower as well.

Fuck.

The two of them do some sort of coordinated attacks and the thing they spout out exploded right in front of your face (overload reaction).

You quickly ducked, but the fumes made you trip down into the ground.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you say as you panic and get up, running as fast as your legs could carry you. Between trees and bushes, you ran, but the two were still following you.

“Xiao!” you screamed again.

Did something happen to him? Why is he not here yet? Did he get hurt?

You looked back to check if the whopperflowers were still following you, only to knock into something.

“Hyaah!”

Hillichurls.

In all your panic and thinking, you had run straight into a hillichurl camp. The mitachurl standing up and grabbing its sheild as it gets ready to attack.

“Fuck.”

You duck behind a crate as the mitachurl narrowly misses you by a thread.

“Xiao, please be okay,” you whisper.

…

Oh, he heard that alright.

The tone of your voice was something he didn't like. It sounded so worried and like it was losing hope.

He didn't like that.

The Jade Bi he enchanted over you gives the feel of a fracture and he panics.

He was coming to get you, he'll pry you from the hands of death himself.

The conqueror of demons stabs the last of the malevolent creatures and ushers the civilians to safety.

He'll be there, just stay alive.

…

In the last few minutes, you've managed to climb up a short boulder, enough not to get smashed to death my the fucking huge ass mitachurl with the shield and escape the hillichurls with the fiery batons, but not enough to escape the archers.

You've gotten shot at in the shoulder.

Which would've been easy to heal if only you had the strength to pull it out. If you heal it with the arrow still lodged in you, the arrow would stay in you.

In all that time, you didn't notice the hillichurl who had gone around to get you.

The only warning you got was the shadow you saw from above your shadow on the rock.

The moment you turned around, you froze.

“Xiao, please… I'm sorry…”

…

…

...

“Lament!”

…

The conqueror of demons heard your voice and warped to you immediately.

He was a second too late as he saw the hillichurl’s bat swing at you. Your body falling to the ground a second later.

The Jade Bi cracks even louder.

He sees red and unleashes another deadly wave of miasma as he quickly made do of the creatures that hurt you.

How dare they?

How dare they hurt you?

He swears to kill and tear them all to shreds.

…

Your mind was spinning, everything was spinning. You feel something running down the side of your head- wet? You didn't know.

You get to your knees and see Xiao warping from place to place as he killed off the creatures.

At some point, he stopped at the mitachurl to continuously slash at it.

This has got to stop.

You stood up on wobbly legs and neared him, his back turned to you, still maiming the carcass of the mitachurl.

You grab onto his forearm and he turns too quickly, too defensive-

His spear goes through your abdomen.

You gasp and freeze, your hold on his forearm tightening.

Xiao looked different, black had consumed his irises, the black looking the same as the goop he had thrown up back then.

A watery version of it runs down his face.

He had been crying.

“Xiao…” you whisper.

He had his eyebrows knitted together in anger, you rarely saw that. You rarely see him get mad.

“...Hey,” you rasp, reaching for his hand on the spear, the yellow blood smearing on both your hands.

“It's me, you're okay, we're okay,” you say, cooing and easing him into a softer state.

You'll get him to pull out the arrow so you can heal yourself after you heal him.

Yes, exactly.

I just need to calm him down-

Xiao grunts and drives the spear deeper into you.

He's not himself- It's the miasma-

“Xiao, please,” you say shakily as you take shallow breaths. Your teeth chattering from focusing on not feeling pain.

With whatever strength you had left, you prayed to Morax that you could do it again and held onto his nape as you pushed your forehead to his.

You were bleeding faster than you anticipated so you focused into healing him faster. He'll probably call Morax once his sober self sees the state you're in.

The light once again travels from your veins to his, and slowly, the golden irises you love so much returns. His breathing becomes normal and his hold on the spear loosens.

He says your name as he focuses on your face.

Your head spins and the headache affects your sight now, your eyes fighting to flutter shut.

Instead you smile at him, “Hi, xiansheng,”

You wanted to lie down, a nap sounds really nice right now.

Your hold on Xiao's nape slides into the side of his face as his eyebrows knit together even closer. Your other hand rests on his hold on the spear as you rest your head on the crevice of his neck.

It's better if he doesn't see.

“What- I smell blood- What's happening? What happened?”

You hum and lean on him harder, forcing him to kneel with you, his other hand settling on your waist as support.

“Are you okay?” He asks worried.

You hum again, “Jus’... need t’ rest…”

“Qingxin, move back,”

You whine in protest.

“No… I'm tired, don’ wan’ move…” you rasp out.

“Qingxin, what am I- Why- My hand is wet and I'm holding onto my spear,” he states shakily.

You sigh and he pushes you back a bit as he manoeuvres you to be in a princess carry position.

You hide in his shoulder as you feel drops fall onto your skin.

Xiao stutters.

…

It's the whole fucking show all over again.

Except this time, it's his doing.

“No… no, no, no,” he repeats over and over. He knows he should've just dissolved his weapon, but doing so would make you bleed out faster and he doesn't know how to stop the bleeding-

“Please-” he chokes out, his vision of you blurring as his- stupid tears- get in the way, “Please tell me- tell me what to do-”

He can hear and feel the Jade Bi cracking even more.

“I- I can- I can help, please just tell me what to do- please-”

“‘S not your… fault,” he hears you rasp and it only makes him cry harder.

Your hand reaches up to cup the side of his face and he feels your thumb wipe his tears as he sobs.

“Y-you can't- not again- please, I can't lose you again,”

“Xiao…”

“Stop, please, just tell me what to do!”

“I love you…”

No.

No.

“No! Pleas- Please don't leave me again, I just got you back, I can't-”

He sobs so loud as he pulls you into him, still mindful of your injuries.

“Don't leave me…”

The Jade Bi shatters.

…

When Xiao feels a wet drop on his arm, he screams out Morax’s name.

…

The archon appears in less than a second.

The sight that meets his eyes makes his millenias old heart clench.

His warrior was on the ground, clutching your bleeding body speared with the weapon he recognises as his as he was crying hard.

“Morax, please, I'll serve all my life, I'll protect Liyue even after all it's citizens have perished, I will give my life for this land, just please-”

He sobs as he looks at your face and brushes your hair out of your face.

“Just don't let them take her away from me.”

His warrior begs him again, just like the first time he lost you.

On his knees, with your body in his arms, crying as if his own heart was ripped out.

“Alatus…”

Just like before.

“Even an Archon has his limits,” he says so sadly, you would mistake him as the one whose lover has died.

Once the soul has left, an Archon cannot venture into the realm of the dead. Celestia will punish those who rock the balance of life and death herself.

He would know.

He has tried after all.

…

Zhongli writes this in record as one of the most heart wrenching scene he has experienced. Second only to his own with Guizhong.

…

They hold a funeral for you in Luhua Pool.

In the wake of the night, Xiao carries your body over into the pool.

Ganyu, Zhongli, Madame Ping, Verr Goldet and her husband, as well as Baizhu stand as witness to the ritual.

Xiao lays you down in the lilypads as crystalflies surround the air.

Zhongli stands beside him, sloshing in the waist-deep water as he puts an arm on Xiao's shoulder.

He says a few words, but Xiao can't hear them. His only focus is on you.

On your face that looks as if it's just asleep.

As if you didn't go through any hardship before you died.

As if you didn't get stabbed and bled out to death.

Instead, you look just as the day he had met you again.

Pristine, woundless, and… beautiful.

Xiao does not know how to express his emotions.

It was his fault you died. Ha… he always does ruin the good things he has.

His head is full of ‘if only’s’ and ‘if i had’s’.

If only he didn't usher the civilians and left them alone after he killed the malevolents.

If only he found you faster.

If only he warped faster.

If only he didn't lose control.

If only he didn't let his karmic debt consume him.

If only he had called for Morax earlier.

If only he hadn't-

“Xiao?”

Morax stares at him concerned.

The ritual was over and Zhongli had transformed your body to be a part of Luhua Pool. A custom for the Adepti that have died, to be made a part of a domain in Liyue.

“I'm sorry,” he says as he wipes his warrior's tears.

“For what?” Xiao whispers, his tears still flowing slowly.

“I'll make this right,” Zhongli says instead.

Xiao doesn't understand. Maybe Morax has been overcome by grief, too. You were the first adeptus he's created in over a millennia after all.

You were his daughter in a way.

Xiao only nods and thanks him, hugging Ganyu, and thanking everyone else, before he warps away.

…

…

…

“Changsheng-xiaoren?”

“Yesssss..?”

“Are you available for the Golden House in a week?”

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usagi's note: see u wednesday guys i dont have class so ill update hehehehe. anw shout at me at the comments or reblogs! last update tomorrow omg 😔

taglist (open!! green can't be tagged): @irenedoesthings @cherrysnows @makuzume @smoochi-modest @bvtterflyyy @original-person @aphxdea @iratempestatis @constellationguy @lloversss @femaholicc @arietheyluv

@usagiarchive 2024. do not repost, translate, or use for AI. reblogs, likes, and comments are very appreciated!!

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'?

Are we best friends? Are we somethin'?

(gojo Satoru x reader angst/cheating/)

{just to clarify it I don't support cheating, I used chatgpt to improve the grammer , THE Grammer ONLY}

Are we dating? Are we fucking? Are we best friends? Are we something?

You did it again. Made the same mistake again. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself tangled with him Satoru Gojo. You were dating him; he loved you, or so he swore. But he wasn’t loyal. Lies. Lies upon lies. And you were sick of it. You listened. You forgave. He repeated. The two of you were toxic for each other were toxic for each other.

“Let’s break up,” you said, holding the lipstick-stained shirt he hadn’t even bothered to hide.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Baby, I can explain. Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

His usual cocky tone. How many times had he said the same thing? Too many. But now, you were certain. You didn’t love him anymore.

You gave him a piece of your mind, but he didn’t believe it was real. After all, you’d been through this cycle before. He’d stopped seeing you as an individual, as someone with her own will. To him, you were just his pretty girlfriend waiting for him at home. He was confident you’d come back.

And you did.

Memories.

They flashed through your mind as you found yourself in Satoru’s embrace again. He’d called you over, and you’d come. It was the third time this week.

Satoru had moved on or so he wanted to show. He’d started dating someone else. “Lily,” a sweet girl who seemed perfect on the surface. A tool to cope with your absence.

You did the same. Tio was everything Satoru wasn’t loving, attentive, sweet. The epitome of perfection. Yet, here you were, in Satoru’s bed, after another reckless night.

He’d once said, “You’ll come back, sooner or later.” At the time, you were sure you wouldn’t. But the pull he had was inevitable, too tempting to resist.

You hated yourself for it. Hated how unfaithful you both were to Tio, to Lily. Hated how wrong it all felt. Yet, the next time he called, you’d go back, let him touch you, and forget all the guilt.

“Not sleepy?” Satoru’s voice broke through your thoughts.

You sighed. “Nope.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“Didn’t fuck your brains out?”

His teasing tone, with that hint of mischief, made you smile despite everything. And before long, he was on top of you again, pounding into you as you became a moaning mess.

Five days later.

Satoru casually mentioned he was going to meet Lily’s parents. You didn’t know why he thought it necessary to tell you, but it made you jealous. Meeting her parents meant something. Meant the relationship was serious. Meant a future.

You mentally scolded yourself for caring. He wasn’t yours to claim. You told yourself you were happy with Tio.

But deep down, you knew you weren’t.

Three days later.

Satoru returned from the trip, talking endlessly about how sweet Lily’s parents were and how they’d spoken about marriage.

“What did you say?” you asked.

He smiled, that same dazzling smile you’d once fallen for.

“What else was I supposed to say? I said yes.”

Your heart broke. Why was he still in touch with you? Why was he telling you this?

You didn’t respond. Just smiled. What else could you do? Beg him to stay?

It was your birthday. Tio had planned a sweet movie night, complete with drinks and snacks. He was perfect, yet his touch made you uncomfortable.

Satoru hadn’t even wished you. Maybe he’d forgotten. Maybe he didn’t care.

A call interrupted your thoughts. You ignored it, but Tio encouraged you to answer. Stepping outside, you picked up.

“Hello? Why’d you call?”

“Can’t I call you?”

You could almost see the pout in his voice.

“I’m busy,” you replied, trying to hang up.

“I’m chillin’ with my girlfriend.”

What was his point? Why was he telling you this? You wanted to scream, to tell him to stop sharing these details.

“Good for you, I guess,” you muttered, hanging up. But you couldn’t shake the feeling. Later that night, you found yourself at his place again.

Afterwards, as you lay in his arms, you finally asked:

“What are we?”

He didn’t answer, just held you tighter.

“What did you mean by ‘I’m chillin’ with my girlfriend’? Do you have to tell me everything?”

“But you didn’t let me finish,” he said.

“Then finish,” you urged.

“She’s not my real girlfriend.”

The words left you stunned.

“So what are we? Are we dating? Are we fucking? Are we best friends?”

“None.”

Desperation filled you. Was this all you were to him? Just someone to satisfy his needs? You stood to leave.

“Then let’s put an end to this.”

“I was never holding you back,” he replied, that cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Do you know what day it is?” you asked.

“Your birthday. The gift’s there.”

On the table were three necklaces: one with his initial, one with Tio’s, and one plain.

“What the fuck does this mean?”

“It’s your choice.”

“What choice?”

“To whom you’ll choose.”

He explained how he’d stopped drinking, stopped sleeping around. All for you.

You clenched your fists, fury building.How could he propose to a woman in front of her family and then leave her? First you then lily? you spat, letting the rage spill over.

“I wish we never fucked, Satoru. Infact never met”

“You don’t mean that,” he said, smirking as he smeared the spit you’d thrown at him across his lips.

“You know how much I mean it,” you said, leaving him behind.

But before you could walk out completely, he sent you pictures of Tio cheating.

You didn’t feel hurt. Deep down, you’d never loved him.

Taking the plain necklace, you made your choice: independence. You were done with Satoru, done with the toxicity. He knew you were done. You choose individuality.

“I’ll be here waiting,” he called after you.

He wasn’t angry at his loss; he was happy you were holding yourself together.

But he knew for certain, you were the first woman he couldn't fight against

And for that , you'd haunt him forever

Thank you ahhhh!

COMMENT TO GET TAGGED IN MY POST AND REQUEST 🫢🫢🫢 IF U WANT BYE 🦅🦅

@a-s-illustrations @kawaiithingtraveler @anonnieghost

[bellaxgiornata]

All the Good That's Left |1: Been Here Before|

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.9k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; ex's to lovers , fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, sexual tension, smut, an Alaskan road trip on Jax's bike (more tags to possibly come)

Summary: After the past year of helping your childhood best friend with planning her wedding, that feeling of having lost yourself since leaving Charming had only grown. Eight years later, her wedding finally pulls you back to the small town for a single weekend, but in the hopes of clearing your head, you plan to disappear on a solo road trip to Alaska the day after. Though when you unexpectedly run into your ex, old emotions rise straight to the surface, and when Jax refuses to let you disappear again, he invites himself on your weeks-long trip–but is there anything left to salvage between you both after all this time?

a/n: Planning this to be a miniseries, but I love Alaska and I couldn't resist the idea of riding around on the back of Jax's bike for a road trip while also dealing with the forced proximity between two ex's (and repeated one bed trope??). As usual, my Readers lack a name and physical description, but they are portrayed as a character for the sake of telling a story. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

tag list: @mariamadison6-blog @kmc1989 @inlovewithcharliehunnam

It still felt surreal to be back in your hometown. Everything looked almost exactly the same as it had since the last time you’d walked through downtown Charming, even if there were a few new businesses. Granted, a handful of them appeared as if they'd gone under and were sitting vacant as you scanned the shops along the street.

The summer sun overhead warmed you to an almost unbearable degree this afternoon, the heat only adding to your current exhaustion. You’d had an early flight in this morning and would have preferred a nap at your hotel instead of running an errand for your best friend, but you couldn’t deny a stressed out bride the day before her wedding. Especially considering you were the maid of honor. Admittedly, you’d been hoping to stay on the outskirts of Charming for the entirety of this weekend, hoping not to step foot into the actual town. Because being in Charming increased your risk of a run-in you weren’t quite certain you would ever be prepared for.

Keeping your attention fixed near the end of the street as you walked, you spotted Sweet Tooth Bakery exactly where you remembered it. The bakery had been in Charming ever since you were a kid, and it was somewhere you’d frequented often over the years when you’d lived here. Besides appearing more worn and rundown, the dated little shop looked just as it had in your memories from all of the times you’d visited in the past. Especially all of those times you had come here with Jax after–

No. You had promised yourself that you’d keep your thoughts off of him for the duration of this weekend. You didn’t need to go reminiscing about things from eight years ago, dredging up old memories you’d spent a long time trying to shove far from your mind.

Pushing open the door of the bakery, the bell above it chimed lightly. The elderly Mrs. Walker glanced up from her place behind the register as you stepped inside, a polite and friendly smile on her face.

“Hey, Mrs. Walker, I’m just here to drop off the final deposit for Allison Nelson’s wedding cake,” you explained, holding up the check in your hand. “Bride was a bit busy today so she delegated the task to me.”

There was a brief moment as you made your way over to the counter where Mrs. Walker’s brows drew together, a contemplative expression crossing her face as she examined you closely. And then, almost as if it had just dawned on her, she exclaimed your name loudly through the empty shop.

“Yes,” you said with a smile, sliding the check towards her along the counter, “it's me.”

“Oh, dear, I haven’t seen you in here in such a long time. You know, I remember when you and Allison used to come in here every Sunday morning after your sleepovers,” Mrs. Walker gushed, pointing a fond finger at you. “I remember you girls would still be in your pajamas looking like you hadn’t slept a wink, always picking out cupcakes for breakfast.” Her smile faltered a little as she added on, “Granted, that was back before you used to come in here with that unruly young man who is still quite the–”

“You know, I actually have to get back to the hotel soon,” you cut her off quickly, not wanting to delve into a conversation about your ex. “Rehearsal dinner is in a few hours and I’m obviously not going dressed like this.”

With a tight smile on your face, you gestured to the casual attire you currently were wearing. Mrs. Walker gave you a once over before she nodded in understanding, the smile returning to her face. She grabbed the check you’d set on the countertop before turning, speaking over her shoulder as she headed towards the backroom.

“I’ll be right back with a receipt for Allison, you just wait here,” she said.

With a sharp exhale, you crossed your arms over your chest and glanced down at the display case before you. There was an array of baked goods inside that also looked just as you remembered–everything from cupcakes to cookies to brownies. A small smile tugged at your lips when you spotted the lemon crinkle cookies. Mrs. Walker only ever made them during the warmer months and they had always been Jax’s favorite. Back in high school when you were a senior and Jax was a recently patched Son who’d long since dropped out of school, he’d often convinced you to cut class and disappear with him on his bike for a little adventure. Afterwards, the pair of you always ended up here for something sweet to end your little outing, and every time Jax picked out those cookies. He’d always end up with a bit of powdered sugar on his mouth and in his scruff that you would always have to clean off of him, running your fingers through the blonde hairs around his lips and–

“Here you are, dear.”

The sound of Mrs. Walker’s voice broke straight through your thoughts, your head darting up as the smile vanished from your face. Reaching across the counter, you grabbed the receipt for Allison from her hand and shoved the thoughts of Jax right out of your head. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about him.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I’ll make sure I get this to the bride.”

Turning around, you’d gone to exit the shop, but Mrs. Walker called your name again. The sound of it caused you to pause just in front of the door. Glancing back behind you, you saw her smiling again at you.

“Come back in again sometime, dear,” she told you. “It’s been too long.”

A small, sheepish smile broke out across your face. “Oh, well, I’m actually only here for Allison’s wedding this weekend,” you explained to her. “I’m not back in Charming. I leave in a couple of days.”

Mrs. Walker’s smile faltered before she nodded. “Shame,” she replied softly.

With a final smile at her, you slipped your phone out of your pocket as you pushed the bakery door open and stepped back out into the uncomfortable heat of the day. As you scrolled for Allison’s number in your recent contacts, the loud and familiar rumble of motorcycles in the distance caught your attention. Heart hammering in your chest at that particular sound, you tried your hardest not to let it affect you as you pushed the call button to dial Allison. Holding the phone up to your ear, you felt a nervous twist of your stomach at the thundering noise of bikes growing louder as they drew closer.

“Please, please tell me you took care of the check,” Allison’s voice answered after one ring.

“Wow, hello to you too, future Mrs. Blake,” you teased. 

Allison huffed over the line at your tone, clearly unamused with your sass today. Though you supposed you couldn’t blame her considering how stressed she was about her wedding tomorrow. Just as you were about to respond to her question, a handful of bikes went speeding their way through the downtown street beside you. Almost instinctively you glanced over your shoulder at the noise, already aware of who you’d find–the Sons. With how they’d all been riding past so quickly with their helmets, sunglasses, and kuttes on, you weren’t exactly certain who’d been amongst the group. Not that you were looking for anyone in particular, of course.

Quickly diverting your gaze away from the back of the herd of bikers, you focused your attention on your phone call and reminded yourself that it didn’t matter anyway if you did happen to see him. You were only here for a weekend for your best friend’s wedding, and then you’d be disappearing for a few weeks to Alaska before heading back to your life in Michigan. It wasn’t like you could reconnect with him this weekend. Besides, considering the lifestyle he led with the club, you were certain Jax had long since forgotten about you. It wasn’t like there wouldn’t have been plenty of other women for him to move on from you with.

“Yeah, I just dropped the check off with Mrs. Walker,” you assured her as you continued down the sidewalk and away from the bakery. “She gave me some sort of receipt that I’m sure your anal ass wants for your records or whatever. I’ll drive your car back up to the hotel and drop it off before I get ready for the rehearsal.”

“Good, because I need you ready by four,” she told you. “Which is in a couple of hours. So you’ve got no time to waste.”

“Which means unfortunately no nap for me, so I hope you don't expect me to be the best conversationalist this evening,” you joked back. 

Turning, you stepped off of the sidewalk and through an empty parking spot as you held the phone to your ear, continuing to listen to Allison rattle off more information about the rehearsal and the dinner tonight. But just as you’d stopped to check for traffic before crossing the street, you stopped dead in your tracks. Because parked just a space away from where you stood was a man sitting and idling on a motorcycle just staring at you. And judging by the leather kutte and the blonde hair peaking out beneath his helmet, you had a feeling you knew exactly who it was.

Allison's voice in your ear faded away in that moment, your phone call completely forgotten as you stood there feeling like all the air in your lungs had been knocked straight out of you. It had been eight long years since you'd last stepped foot into Charming. Eight years since you'd last seen or spoken to Jax. Now there he was sitting on his bike just staring right at you.

“Al, I'll call you back,” you muttered quickly into the phone.

“It's him, isn't it?” Allison asked, her tone shifting at the change in yours. “I thought I heard bikes in the background. You know, I had a feeling–”

“I’ll talk to you later,” you replied more firmly. 

Lowering the phone from your ear, your gaze remained fixed on Jax sitting on his motorcycle about ten feet away as you ended the call. It felt like all you could do was stand there and stare back at him, not entirely sure you were actually seeing what you were seeing, as if he was some sort of figment of your imagination that your brain had conjured up just because of where you found yourself after all this time. But the sound of his idling bike seemed quite real.

How had he recognized you so easily when he’d ridden by so fast? Why had he even stopped? Didn’t he have better things he needed to be doing with the club right now? Hadn’t he forgotten all about you since you left all those years ago, just like you’d always told yourself? A myriad of questions were racing rapidly through your mind, but all you could do was stand there speechless with your stomach knotting inside of you and your heart thrumming in your throat.

A moment later, he cut the engine of his bike and a tense silence fell around the both of you. Nervously your tongue darted out, wetting your lips as you gripped your phone in your hand. You wondered how this encounter was about to play out. Despite the fact that the breakup between you both years ago had been mutual, it had still been plenty painful on both sides. And the years’ long silence that followed had certainly left you feeling hollow.

Knowing you couldn't just walk off and head back to the hotel without saying something to him, you hesitantly took one careful step towards him, but then you stopped. His expression was impossible to read with the sunglasses on, and that was only growing the sense of dread in the pit of your stomach.

“Jax?” you cautiously called over.

There was a brief moment after you said his name where he tensed on the bike before his hands came up, undoing the buckle on his helmet before he finally rose from the seat. Mouth going completely dry, you watched as he dismounted his bike and hung the helmet over his handlebars. Afterwards, he slowly sauntered his way over towards you while remaining silent. You noticed he still walked with that same swagger in his gait that you’d always remembered. Standing there nearly holding your breath in anticipation, you weren't sure whether you were about to be met with anger, indifference, or something else entirely from him. 

Jax came to a halt just a few feet away from you, staring at where you'd still remained standing in the empty parking space on the street. One of his hands reached up, pulling the sunglasses from off of his face and no longer obstructing his blue eyes from your view. 

In that moment, all you could do was take in the sight of him. He’d clearly grown up over the years, that much was obvious. His facial hair had grown in thicker, his hair now slicked back instead of hanging shaggy and loose around his face like you remembered. He looked more hardened than the young Jax you'd known, but if you looked closely enough, you swore you could still see the traces of the eighteen year old you’d once loved still there, especially in those eyes of his.

Eyes which were currently surveying you just as closely as you’d been taking stock of him. You felt your face heat just a bit under the weight of his roaming gaze. He wasn’t being remotely subtle about the way his eyes were running over you, and even after all of this time, you hated to admit that he still had an effect on you.

Eventually, his eyes made their way back up your body until they once more met yours. And then his lips pulled upwards into a small smile tinged with a trace of melancholy.

“It's been a long time, darlin’,” he greeted you, his familiar voice a soft, smooth rumble.

And just like that, everything felt like it was rushing back to you. All the times you’d cut class and disappeared from Charming clinging to him on the back of his bike, finding quiet trails outside of town and spending hours alone together. The times you’d spent forcing Jax to study for his GED after he’d dropped out of high school, even bribing him with some sexual incentives if he focused and studied. The times he’d sneak over to your house in the middle of the night, slipping through your bedroom window so no one would know that he’d spent the whole night curled up against you asleep in your bed. All the parties at the clubhouse Jax had brought you to, the guys never giving a shit that you were still only seventeen and drinking their beer. The whispered words, the lingering looks, the charming smiles flashed back at you as he drove his bike.

Everything. All of it hit you all at once.

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly. “A really long time.”

Another heavy silence hung in the air between you both, the weight of so much unspoken impossible to ignore. You didn't even know where to begin, or if you even should.

Jax jutted his chin at you, the first to break the palpable tension. “What’re you doing back here?”

Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore all of the memories still trying to rise to the surface. It was like the sight of him had opened a floodgate and now you were drowning in all of them.

“I’m here for a wedding,” you answered. “Allison Nelson's. You remember her?”

Jax’s eyes narrowed in contemplation, his gaze dropping down towards your hand still clutching your phone. After a brief pause, he finally nodded as something like recognition crossed his features. 

“Right, yeah,” he replied, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I remember. You two were always together. She’s getting married?” 

“Tomorrow, yeah,” you answered. “I uh, I'm her maid of honor. Obviously.”

Jax bit his lip, fighting back a grin as he nodded his head again. “Obviously,” he repeated lightly.

Your grip tightened on your phone, wringing it nervously in your hands. What were you supposed to say in this situation? Especially considering you needed to get back to the hotel soon and get ready for the rehearsal and the dinner. There was far too much history to cram into a brief, few minute run-in.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Jax admitted, breaking through your thoughts. “Been so long, I figured nothing would ever bring you back.”

Glancing down at the pavement, you couldn’t ignore the way his words sounded. As if, somehow, he’d never completely just forgotten you like you had always assumed. That maybe he'd been hoping you'd come back. But that was ridiculous, wasn't it?

“And I’m…guessing you’re just back for that wedding?” he continued hesitantly.

Throat tightening, you tried to swallow down the emotions welling up within you. You nodded as you looked back up at him. He still looked so goddamn good even after all of this time. It was unfair, really.

“Yeah,” you answered softly. “I leave Sunday morning. So I’m…really just here for a couple of days.”

There was a flicker of something that passed behind his blue eyes at your response. You weren’t entirely certain of what it was, though. But you didn't have long to think about it before Jax was speaking again.

“If the wedding is Saturday, does that mean you’re busy tonight?” he asked. “Do you just have plans for tomorrow?”

His question caught you off guard. Was he going to ask you to spend time with him? And had that actually sounded like hope in his voice, or were you just imagining that?

“Well, I have the wedding rehearsal before the rehearsal dinner tonight,” you answered slowly. Chewing your lip, you looked down at the phone in your hand, checking the time on the screen. Your heart sank to your stomach before you met his gaze again. “Which I actually need to get back to the hotel and get ready for soon.”

A muscle feathered in his cheek at your reply, his jaw tensing as he stood there watching you. Shifting on your feet in front of him, you weren’t sure if he was about to say something more or just tell you goodbye, but when you’d opened your mouth to speak, he cut you off before you could get a word out.

“When’s it all done tonight?” he asked. “All the rehearsal bullshit?”

You paused, eyeing him curiously at the question. “Probably around eight or so. Why?”

“Got nothin’ else you need to do after?” he asked instead of answering you.

Brows furrowing together, you shook your head slowly. “No, not for today.”

He fell silent again, his eyes once more flickering over you standing before him. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you after all that time.

“Would you say no to catching up?” he questioned after a pause, his eyes landing back on yours. “Maybe over drinks at an actual bar since we’re not eighteen year old little shits stealing booze from the clubhouse?”

His lips pulled up into a sly little smirk and you couldn’t stop the amused huff of air that passed between your lips before your teeth clamped down on the bottom one. You hesitated, considering the implication of meeting him for drinks.

You had promised yourself long ago when Allison had asked you to be the maid of honor at her wedding that you would not dwell on Jax during all of the planning. That you wouldn’t seek him out when the wedding weekend finally came and you were finally back in the area. That you wouldn’t let yourself think about him at all because he was your past and that was where he was supposed to stay. But the truth of it was, you’d promised yourself all of those things because you knew the moment you saw Jax that every old wound you’d hastily tried to heal and stitch together over the past eight years would be torn wide open.

And that’s exactly what was going to happen if you met him for drinks. But yet, that wasn’t going to change the answer you gave him.

“I suppose we could catch up,” you told him.

“Guessin’ you probably don’t have a car while you’re here?” he asked next, a blonde brow raising up onto his forehead. “You gonna need a ride?”

That was a loaded question. Because accepting a ride from Jax clearly meant riding on the back of his bike–and that had always felt like a form of intimacy in itself. At least, for you it had. Yet another thing to tear your heart in half.

“Yeah, I might,” you answered him. “Currently I’m borrowing Al’s car because I’m out here running her errand, but I don’t have a rental.”

Even though you planned to get one Sunday morning for your drive up to Seattle before getting onto that ferry, but he didn’t need to know that. No one actually knew about your plans for after the wedding.

Jax shook his head, clearly looking unbothered by the fact that you didn’t have a car. “Not a problem, darlin’,” he told you. “Where you want me to pick you up at tonight?”

“I’m staying at that Hilton about fifteen minutes away,” you replied. “You know the one off of Washington?”

A chuckle fell out of him as he nodded at you. “Yeah, I know where it’s at, baby,” he said with a grin. “Still only one goddamned Hilton around here.”

The slight slip up of ‘baby’ from his lips had you biting your tongue. You weren’t sure if he’d even noticed he’d just done it, but dammit, it had always done things to you when he’d called you that in the past. Something about that particular little name for you always got your heart racing for one reason or another.

“So I’ll meet you there out front at eight?” Jax asked, breaking through your thoughts. “That work?”

“Yeah,” you replied, ignoring the pounding of your heart. “Yeah, I’ll…see you later then.”

Jax nodded, his eyes lingering on you as if he wasn't quite ready to leave yet. But eventually he slipped his sunglasses back onto his face before he turned and strode over to his bike. Swinging a leg over it and settling onto the seat, Jax started the motorcycle, the engine rumbling to life. You realized you’d been standing there staring at him once he’d secured his helmet and shifted his focus back onto you. Knowing you needed to leave too, you gave him a small wave which he acknowledged with a final nod. Then he was pulling out of the parking spot and making his way out of Charming’s downtown. You stared at the reaper on the back of his kutte as he went, watching him ride down the street and away from you–the exact sight that had haunted you for years. 

So much for not thinking about Jax this weekend.

[agirlwithglam]

https://www.tumblr.com/agirlwithglam/760858969670582272/no-guys-you-dont-understand-i-love-myself

How does one get here😭

this was asked a long time ago but i think i finally found the words to write it. (i don't im just bored, sorry!)

so how does one fully love themselves?

getting to that point of my life took time. it took a lot of time. like around 1-2 years of time, and im still not 100% there- i still get hurt sometimes, i'm still emotional and sensitive. but the thing is, that over these 1-2 years i've learnt so much that whenever i'm feeling sad or hurt, i'm able to support myself. i am the first person who shows up for me and does my very best to console and help me. i help myself turn that pain into something even better. i walk myself through what happened and whether i may be overreacting or not. i am the one who is now always always always there for myself.

and i think once i realised this, i genuinely was like "woah." no matter what happens in my life, i will ALWAYS have myself and that thought just soothes me. it relaxes and calms me down. i am no longer scared because there is no reason to be. i know that i cannot control other people, other people will always do what they want to do. they can hurt you, make you happy, hurt you again, even unintentionally. i cannot control their actions, but i can control myself. i can control how i choose to view it and react to it. so every time i get hurt i walk myself through the steps of seeing it a different way.

another thing i did when i was insecure & trying to love myself is that i did affirmations religiously. in the morning doing skincare, i would always repeat affirmations or listen to affirmations. it would be phrases like "i love myself." / "i am beautiful", etc. it's not the sole thing that transformed my love for myself, but it did help a ton with me believing it. (doing affirmations enough time can also help rewire your brain into believing what you keep repeating)

also, you need to realise that you do love yourself. a human's natural state of being is love. return to that state of being. a little baby or a child, they are full of love. they give love, they receive love, they are never ending of love. and they are the purest form of a person for they are themselves before society has told them who to be. so do you realise that you deserve love fully and beyond what you could imagine? and the one person in the whole world that can give you that unlimited love, is yourself. but you must choose to love yourself.

stop constantly returning to the state of insecurity okay? thats not you!! you are not insecure, you just think you are insecure! but in reality, there is NOTHING to be insecure about. someone else could have the exact same quality as you and love it so much! so end this cycle of negativity. choose to live a different, happier, more positive life. its all up to you. u can CHOOSE to be different!

finally, to end with, honey it will take time. just because you don't find yourself loving what you see in the mirror after 1 day, doesn't mean you never will. you don't have to keep changing yourself to love yourself. if your daughter looked like you, would you hate her? would you cringe when you look at her? of course not. treat yourself as your daughter. be gentle with yourself. be there for yourself. show up for yourself. it may take time, but please, don't give up on yourself.

[kingdomofbellows]

No. No stop it. Don’t. Don’t look at her like that. You’re not allowed to look at her like that!

Irene’s heart twists in her chest, eyes stinging as he just…gazes at her with that fondness. He wasn’t allowed. He’s supposed to hate her. Be disappointed in her. Mad at her. Look at her with the same cruel indifference that space has for human life. Don’t look at her like a parent noticing similarities of themselves in their child. You’re not allowed. You’re especially not allowed to sound…human. To have human struggles. You’re god. You do like god things that you don’t regret because you’re all knowing and it’s all part of your master plan.

The plan. The grand plan that she had heard repeated to her over and over and over again. The same grand plan that she swore she’d be rebelling against until she was dragged kicking and screaming to her grave. The same plan that took her mother, excused her father’s abuse, and kept Willow on the edge of death.

But this didn’t sound like he had a plan, and she wasn’t sure if it made it better or worse. Regardless, her anger had faded and now she just felt an overwhelming sorrow. Her eyes sting with threatened tears and she grimaces.

She manages to summon a snarky smile for Vox though, reaching down the front of her shirt where she had hidden the ring.

“Dang, I was really looking forward to making you dance like a goober.” She attempts to joke, securing her fingers around the ring and slowly pulling it out. “I…no..If I wasn’t going to give it to him, I had planned to destroy it somehow. No one needs that kind of power.”

She walks to Eli, keeping her fingers clenched so tight around the ring that she could feel it pressing a painful indent into her palm as she rests her fist on top of his hand. She hesitated for a moment, her other hand coming to curl around his wrist.

“You…did love us once, didn’t you? We weren’t always…failures and abominations in your eyes…right? Once upon a time at least.” Came her soft murmur. Regardless of his answer, she’d open her palm and drop the ring into it.

“Now…please. Help him.”

Irene would shoot Vox a look before her eyes drop, letting her arm drop to her side. She’d hurt herself if she wanted to thank you. Just turned out she didn’t currently want to. Instead she was running on barely any sleep, self sacrificing to a suicidal degree thoughts, and an Oreo, and she was ready to kill God or become him.

“I’m not sure Lu is going to want to remember.” She’d murmur to Vox. “It might just hurt him knowing daddy only cared for a brief second before he fucks off into the nether again..I know it’s his choice but…”

A thought occurs to her and her eyes snap towards Eli.

“What’s the catch? This is all rather convenient that you suddenly come back and all of a sudden are sooooo concerned about your son even though you KNEW it was all happening. You reek of absent father wanting money so what is it? You want us to throw ourselves at your feet and suck your ass with praise on how magnificent and wonderful you are? That truly, everyone’s favorite sky daddy is an awesome God like my sister is convinced you are? You want something and I don’t believe for a single fucking second it’s cause you’re worried about Lucifer being on his deathbed.”

@burningfeathersx

[chobblesomewrites]

I too sent my ask to the wrong place so insert drabble request herd

"You're... Lady Aphrodite?" Grian's eyes flicker from the goddess' face to her toes, repeating this action over and over as if to commit this appearance of hers to memory. Though it seemed difficult to actually gauge what her true appearance was as he couldn't help but see Pearl and his mom separately but also at the same time.

Some weird appearance magic, most likely. Not unusual for the goddess of beauty, Grian thinks.

Aphrodite could probably see the confusion through his wary expression, her grin widening playfully while her eyes squinted in interest, "That I am, little sweet thing," she replied as she fixed herself on the little loveseat she made comfortable on that Grian could've sworn wasn't available in the hotel room last time he was awake.

Mumbo looked equally confused about the appearance of the seat, but even more confused regarding the appearance of the goddess.

Actually, he seemed more nervous than confused, Grian observed. The taller demigod was red in the face and seemed to have a difficult time looking at Aphrodite at all. The child of Hermes shot a look at his best friend, but he avoided eye contact.

This is actually the most nervous Mumbo Grian has ever seen, and they've been through a lot of nervewracking situations together.

They were mid-retrieval quest. An unofficial one actually. No one in the camp took the mysterious disappearance of Grian and Mumbo's little Grumbot seriously so no official search party was given.

'Just make another one.' Yeah, right. Try asking two parents who had lost their kid the same thing.

So they did whatever smart demigod would do: disappear from the camp from long hours of time while avoiding any iris messages to find Grumbot themselves.

"I heard you were in... a bit of a pickle. A little trouble, hm?" Aphrodite broke through Grian's little internal rant (one he's been surprisingly doing often these days). He focused his eyes back on the Pearl-Mom fusion.

He pursed his lips in hesitation, "Not really. Even if you had a way to help us find Grumbot, we don't need it," he lied. Honestly, they've spent most of their week wandering around all the three realms to see where Grumbot has been, having not found any leads at all so the rest of the days were spent hopping from hotel to hotel room as they went through their small evidence of suspected Grumbot locations.

Or rather, they kept arguing over and over again as Grian was stubborn with continuing their travel while Mumbo was stubborn about going home as his anxiety genuinely cannot take anymore monster encounters.

Of course, none of this was unknown to the goddess, rolling her eyes at Grian's attempts at lying to a divine being of all people, "Don't worry, son of Hermes. I wasn't going to help you with that part anyway," she pushed herself off her seat and went on over to the pair. Somehow she made even such a simple thing look graceful.

It made Grian shiver. Even more when Aphrodite placed herself behind in-between them, a supposedly encouraging hand on their shoulders as she made a friendly gesture of pushing them together.

Grian doesn't know if that was him shaking or if he was imagining it. He wasn't that afraid of gods, was he?

He then looked down and only now noticed that Mumbo's shivering hands were squeezing his wrist like crazy. Grian had half the mind to scrunch up painfully from how hard he was gripping, shimmying his wrist out so he could hold Mumbo's hand properly and squeeze back in hopes to comfort him.

It didn't work, considering that Mumbo went even more red and had now squeezed his eyes shut. Grian rolled his eyes and glared up at Aphrodite who was watching on with mirth.

"You're making him nervous."

Aphrodite tilted her head and batted her eyelashes innocently, "Why, is it me that's doing that or is it you?"

Grian fought back a scowl. This is why he didn't like interacting with Aphrodite, always taking on a teasing tone like she knew something he didn't. They then end up talking in circles and circles because she has all the time in the world to lead people on however she likes.

Damn gods.

"What do you want, Aphrodite?" The child of Hermes urged for an answer, tugging Mumbo away from the goddess as he regarded her with annoyance. Not that she took any offense, his annoyance served to amuse her even more.

"Don't give me that, dove. You need me, you know?"

"I don't quite remember a situation where we need the goddess of love and beauty at all."

Grian felt a tug on his hand and he looked up to find that Mumbo had opened his eyes back up to silently plead him to stop his disrespectful tone.

Which, he would've followed otherwise, but he's already exhausted his small bar of patience to this sneak out quest, so he decided to ignore his best friend.

Aphrodite giggled at their little small exchange and leaned over to coo at them, "Clearly you do!" She tapped the two's joined hands. Grian felt himself redden for some reason but kept a terrible stern face.

"Small demigod, I would have thought your camp taught you the importance of getting along with your questmates, especially at such a dangerous time."

Grian had half the mind to take note of how many times Aphrodite has called him 'small' and 'little' and half the mind to tug Mumbo closer to his side defensively, "We get along just fine. Isn't that right, Mumbo?"

Mumbo somehow had the audacity to hesitate before answering, "U-uh, yeah. Somewhat..."

Grian's jaw dropped and he snapped his head to look at Mumbo inquiringly, "What the Hades is that answer?"

"Well, it's- you know! It's been a tough few days!" Mumbo squeaked out.

The child of Hermes furrowed his eyebrows together and looked away with a pout, taking a lot of offense with how Mumbo was wording how they were doing as a pair.

It's not like Grian was treating him too badly. Mumbo was annoying too!

The two looked away from each other and went quiet, leaving room for Aphrodite to laugh at their small banter, "Mumbo, dear, you really have the audacity to be saying those things while you were openly adoring the form you've made of me?"

Mumbo made a noise of embarrassment in the back of his throat in response. His shoulders hiked up to his ears like he was trying to hide away like a turtle, except he disappointedly does not have a shell to hide away in. On the other hand, this reaction and Aphrodite's gentle scolding made Grian much more confused.

He was frustrated and he didn't know to what. Either because Aphrodite, and apparently even Mumbo, knew something he didn't or because Aphrodite was overwhelming his best friend.

Despite Grian's current feelings on Mumbo after multiple arguments, it didn't really feel right to not defend him from whatever's going on, "What are you trying to get at, lady?"

Aphrodite flashed a pointed glare at Grian but was quick to get past the continous disrespect in favor of embarrassing Mumbo even further.

"I'm sure you already know, if you listened to that son of Athena. My appearance is an entirely unique experience to each person."

She took place behind the tall demigod, her hands on Mumbo's shoulders, and maneuvered him with her as she forced the demigod to be face to face with Grian, "Tell me first, Grian dear. What do you see me as?"

"...Like both my sister and my mom at the same time?"

"Extremely sweet of you," Aphrodite smiled slightly, "Now how about you ask Mumbo here what he sees me as?"

The son of Hermes looks towards Mumbo, who couldn't even hold his eyes as he had shutted them in embarrassment again. Grian suddenly felt impatient and he reached out to hold Mumbo's hand to tug at it to get his attention.

It didn't seem to help, and it made Mumbo look like he was about to actually melt into a puddle.

"Mumbo, how do you see her?" Grian asks, wanting to just get this over with. He would've been patient with his best friend if this were a normal situation, but the presence of Aphrodite was not one his mental couldn't really welcome for a long while.

However, Mumbo didn't answer, ending up stammering literally every vowel out without actually saying anything.

Grian groaned impatiently, "It's really not that hard!"

"It is much harder than you actually think it is!" Mumbo squeaked out in defense.

"Just say it!"

"No! You'll make fun of me!"

"Why are you being so-!"

Aphrodite cut them off with a loud click of her tongue, tutting disappointedly at the wondrous display of 'friendship'.

"See? This is why I told you two you needed me."

Grian yells heatedly, "I told you we get along fine! This is just-"

The goddess ignored him as she cooed at Mumbo, ruffling his hair in false pretense of adoration, "Don't worry, darling Mumbo! Your step mother will help you since you've been such a behaved boy!"

"Since when did you consider yourself my mom?" Mumbo squawked in confusion, making a face mixed between disgust and bafflement as she watched Aphrodite grip at both of his and Grian's joined hands, "And wait, what are you planning on doing-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, suddenly caught off guard with how his hand suddenly felt so numb. Grian were better at keeping his expression at bay while Mumbo instinctively tried to tug his hand back.

... But he couldn't?

"My job here is done!" Aphrodite announces with a clap, turning around to leave the hotel room.

Grian didn't seem to catch onto what happened, turning to watch the goddess leave with his jaw agape, "But you didn't do anything?!" He screeched, "Come back here! What did you do!?"

The demigod tried to go after her, doubtful of the fact that she was leaving without doing anything, but he found himself tugged back into place by Mumbo.

Grian tried to tug his hand back, "Mumbo, what are you doing? Let go!"

"I can't..." Mumbo mumbled fearfully.

"What do you mean you can't?"

The son of Hephaestus swallowed nervously and untangled his fingers from Grian, but whenever he tried to actually pull his hand away, his palm wouldn't let up.

He tried again and again to show the problem. Grian's face blanched.

"Oh for Olympus' sake..."

[kawiifury]

What is your AU about may I ask?

MAY EVERYTHING BE ETERNAL! AU is built on my theory that everything in sprunky is cyclical. from the moment you come to the site you build combinations, hat, horror mod and all over again... And so! What is a cycle? It is a phenomenon that cannot be controlled. Partial. The nature of the cycle is strange and unnatural. It works quite simply - everything starts at a certain point and ends at another certain point, and then everything repeats. Anything can happen in the middle and before the end of the cycle. Before a scenario occurs (which will be described later), the cycle can be updated and what happened in the middle can change the end and the beginning of the cycle. Nobody remembers what happened in the last cycle, except for a slight deja vu. The plot begins to move when Jevin becomes an orphan. And he is taken in by a certain Vallet (my OC who plays a role in the plot, but he may not be mentioned). Vallet and his wife Magma are cultists (they had a small circle of cultists with Vallet at the head) . Vallet himself is an experienced cultist who knows how to deal with wickedness and how to drive it away or kill it. Jevin admired him, wishing he could be the same. The boy stubbornly thought demons and rituals were cool. Until one moment. The boy was eager to repeat some ritual, which Vallet grudgingly agreed to. But one thing he hadn't considered was that Jevin's attention span was too low at a young age. Eager to repeat his stepfather's success, Jevin accidentally summoned something more terrifying than little demons. Mr. Black is an ancient creature straight from the void. Everything went smoothly. Only at first. Vallet knew it smelled like kerosene as soon as Mr. Black's face appeared instead of a crap. Discreetly, under the guise of friendliness, Vallet wanted to seal Black. But the demon wasn't too naive. At the snap of a finger, Vallet's head exploded. After this incident, alas, no one knew what to do, the cultists disappeared one by one. A week later, Magma hanged herself, unable to bear the grief. Jevin was left all alone. And there comes such a stipulation of the cycle as a scenario. Scenario - the unchangeable events that will occur as the cycle progresses. There is also a clear end and beginning that cannot be broken. I guess. Example - Simon bites off Brud's head. An element of the script that will always happen, but how it happens is not important. Or a more detailed example, Wenda shoots Tunner. Did he accidentally get shot? Did he ask to get himself killed? Did Wenda take the shotgun away from him? Anything is possible, but it's the act itself that matters. Jevin is the only remaining cultist that Black uses to pamper his Ego with rituals in his honor and sacrifices. Jevin has experienced cycles and knows about them, remembers what happened in the past ones. But if he behaves disrespectfully to Black and barks back at him, Black may even kill him at the end of the cycle or have his memory erased as punishment. That's all, lol I have another OC - John or Daffodil, the one who will be looking for a solution to break the cycle. Perhaps I'll tell you about him...

[phoenixblaze1412]

Omg now that i read the teenage reader story i got a idea. Imagine the reader getting their first crush and start simping over one of the harbinger (for Example tartaglia or pantalone 👉👈) dottore and his segments would go crazy for sure but who knows if they can stop the reader from daydreaming abt their crush ;)

The pristine halls of the Fatui headquarters echoed with the clicking of heels and the low murmur of passing conversations. You sat at your desk in Dottore’s lab, absently twirling your pen as your thoughts wandered far away. Specifically to a certain Harbinger with an impeccable sense of style and a smile that could charm Mora out of a banker.

Pantalone.

The Ninth Harbinger was everything you weren’t. Cool, composed, utterly graceful. Every time he spoke, it felt like his voice was dipped in honey, and every glance he threw your way left you a stammering mess.

And that was the problem.

“You’re distracted,” Alpha said, his arms crossed as he loomed over your shoulder.

“I’m working,” you lied, snapping your notebook shut before he could see the little hearts you’d doodled next to Pantalone’s name.

Alpha’s crimson gaze narrowed. “You’ve been staring into space for fifteen minutes. What’s on your mind?”

Theta, always the instigator, leaned over the edge of a nearby table with a grin.

“Bet it’s a crush.”

Your face burned. “It’s not!”

“Oh, it definitely is,” Theta teased, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Come on, who is it? One of the recruits? Or maybe...” He gasped dramatically. “Is it Pantalone?”

Silence fell over the lab like a dropped pin.

Dottore, who had been adjusting a piece of equipment nearby, froze mid-motion, dropping the item to the ground and shattering it. Slowly, he turned to face you, his mask glinting ominously in the lab’s artificial light.

“Pantalone?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerously calm.

You gulped. “It’s not what it sounds like--”

“Oh, it’s exactly what it sounds like,” Theta interrupted, gleefully fanning the flames.

Dottore straightened, his gaze piercing. “Explain yourself.”

From that moment on, your life became a whirlwind of chaos.

Dottore was immediately on high alert, his overprotective instincts kicking in full force. “The Ninth Harbinger is far too old for you,” he declared. “And too manipulative. You will keep your distance.”

“Dad, I just think he’s cool!” you protested.

Alpha stepped in with his usual stern demeanor. “You’re too young to be entertaining such thoughts.”

Theta, however, saw it as prime entertainment. “This is amazing,” he said, grinning. “Our little (Y/N) has a crush on Pantalone of all people. What’s next? A love letter?”

You threw a wrench at him to which he dodged with a laugh.

-----

Dottore decided to take matters into his own hands.

He rearranged your schedule to ensure you were never in the same room as Pantalone.

Any meetings involving the Ninth Harbinger were now “off-limits” for you.

The segments were tasked with monitoring your activities, reporting any suspicious daydreaming or mentions of the Ninth Harbinger.

Theta, of course, was the first to exploit the situation. “Daydreaming about him again?” he’d tease every time he caught you zoning out.

Zeta, ever the quiet one, offered more subtle support. “Perhaps it’s just a phase,” he suggested to Dottore one evening. “Teenagers are prone to such things.”

Dottore was unconvinced. “A phase or not, I won’t have my child distracted by frivolities.”

Unfortunately for Dottore, the situation escalated when Pantalone himself caught wind of your crush.

It happened during a routine encounter in the hall. You were minding your own business, clutching a stack of documents when Pantalone rounded the corner and flashed you one of his signature smiles.

“Ah, (Y/N), always working hard,” he said smoothly. “Such dedication is admirable.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Uh—I—thanks—you—uh—bye!” you stammered, practically running in the opposite direction.

Pantalone raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. Later that day, Theta casually let it slip. “Oh, they’ve got the biggest crush on you.”

Pantalone chuckled. “How… endearing.”

-----

When Dottore found out Pantalone knew, he stormed into the Ninth Harbinger’s office, flanked by Alpha and Zeta.

“My child is off-limits,” he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Pantalone, ever unflappable, simply smiled. “Doctor, I assure you, I’ve done nothing to encourage them.”

“Good,” Dottore said sharply. “Keep it that way.”

"My, aren't you being overprotective? It's only a crush, a puppy love situation."

"I will not let my child fall in love with manipulative businessmen like you, Regrator. I'd rather not let them fall in love with anyone at all."

-----

Despite Dottore’s best efforts, your crush persisted for a while. But over time, you began to see Pantalone in a more realistic light. His charm was undeniable, but you realized that your feelings were more admiration than genuine love.

One evening, as you worked late in the lab, Dottore approached you, a rare softness in his voice. “You’ve been… quieter lately.”

You shrugged. “I guess I realized he’s just… a cool guy. Nothing more.”

Dottore studied you for a moment before nodding. “Good. You deserve better than someone like him.”

You smiled, touched by the rare display of fatherly affection. “Thanks, Dad.”

Theta, of course, ruined the moment by bursting in and declaring, “So, who’s the next lucky Harbinger? Is it Arlecchino? Or maybe Tartaglia? Oh, I know! It's the Jester!"

You threw another wrench at him.