#and it gives people such dignity and such grace that they can’t even SEE

[xoxochb]

Forbidden love trope with Jason grace plss

⋆·˚ ༘ * this love is difficult, but it’s real

warnings: renaissance era, I changed a bunch of things from the play because shakespeare was on something, one sexual insinuation, tons of dialogue, this honestly isn’t my best work

pairing: romeo coded! jason grace x juliet coded! reader (daughter of ares and aphrodite)

a/n: forbidden love trope? you know my literature loving ass is gonna do something romeo and juliet inspired

two households, both alike in dignity- just kidding that’s not where this is going

a crowded room, the sound of people talking around you. a banquet set up by your parents- unexpected but it’s typical for them, you assume they’re trying to set you up with another boy when they drag you to meet another prince- percy jackson wishes to take your hand in marriage and your parents agree with it. you don’t even know the man! small talk doesn’t get you places and that seems to be the only thing this boy knows

“lovely weather today” he says

you lean your head against a pillar “I suppose”

“what do you enjoy in your free time?”

“many things”

“such as…?”

he won’t give up will he?

“reading, painting, not very much”

he nods his head “I adore sword fighting, but often swimming when I’m not”

your eyes scan around the room as he continues on about his many hobbies, nothing you care about, although when you think about it you don’t care about percy himself. boys, boys, boys! all mean at this absurd party, why can’t you chose a husband on your own? your eyes stop when they meet electric blue ones, yet covered by a mask, who is this strange boy? you must get to know him!

“percy?”

“yes?”

“could I be excused for a moment? I have to use the restroom”

“yes that’s quite fine, when you get back I’ll tell you about my great adventure over mountaintops”

you give him a half-smile before rushing off. would a mysterious look be okay? or should you approach the boy immediately? yes! let him approach you first

you take a drink from a waiter and lean your back against the nearest pillar. a mysterious look will do you good in this situation

waiting, waiting… will the boy ever talk to you?

“quite a boring banquet don’t you think?”

you turn around, the blue-eyed boy stands behind the pillar, you move to the opposite side with him

“my parents want me married off to that boy” you point to percy across the room who seemingly found another woman to torture with dreadful stories

“do you want to?”

“want to what?”

“marry him?”

you shake your head “who are you?”

he hesitates “why don’t we ditch?”

“I can’t do that”

“why not?”

“my parents will be furious”

“so what? they’re busy anyways”

you sigh “only for a little while”

he takes your hand in his and you allow him to drag you outside the palace to the garden, flower filled courtesy of demeter

“what is your name?” you ask

“If I tell you will you kick me out?”

“why would I do that?”

“you’ll realize”

“so what is it?”

he removes his mask “jason grace”

oh…

“oh my gods, son of zeus! I should have known. what are you doing here? our fathers will kill us!”

“I had to see you” he takes both of your hands in his yet again

“why? what is so important that you had to risk your life?”

“I’m in love with you” he puts your hands over his heart, you feel his rapid heartbeat

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been pining over you for so long, I came here to ask for your hand in marriage”

“oh my gods oh my gods, we can’t marry and you know that!”

“please. In secret even would be fine”

“how the hell do you want me to secretly marry you?”

“I have a friend who will be willing to do it”

“don’t you think this is sudden?”

“would you rather marry that other boy?”

“I suppose not…”

“then will I see you tomorrow morning?”

marry the son of poseidon who shows interest in every woman, not loyal, and talks a lot, or the son of zeus who has supposedly been in love with you for years and risked his life to see you?

“meet me at my bedrooms balcony, seven sharp” you point to your balcony

“I won’t be late” he gives you a heart-stopping smile

before he runs off he places a kiss on your lips, quick but lovely. you await his next arrival

⚔️

you hate waking early in the morning. you were the one who arranged the time though and in a half an hour you would be getting married to a boy you barely knew, a handsome one though you wouldn’t complain

you followed your morning routine like usual, careful to stay silent as you assume most of your family will be asleep after the long party the previous night

should you dress fancy since it’s a wedding or casual because it’s secret? makeup or natural look? too many decisions to make! you put on a simple pink dress, nothing too much but still good enough for a wedding. a few touch ups with makeup and check the time on your wall clock 6:58 it reads. he would be here any moment. you rush to your balcony and catch sigh of the blond boy walking up to your castle

you manage to climb over the railing to grab hold of the vines to climb down, nearly impossible to do with your dress on. when you (finally) make it to the bottom you hold up your dress and run to the boy

out of breath you put your hands on your knees but not before holding up a singular finger to indicate you needed a minute

“do you run much?” asks jason

“not at all”

you go back to regular posture as your breathing slows back down “let’s get married now, shall we?”

“we shall”

you loop arms and go on your way to- wait… you don’t even know where you’re going. hope it’s not dangerous

when you arrive you see a worn down house, belonging to who? you don’t know

“the person that’s going to marry us lives in there? Is he certified?” you inquire

“I don’t think so. he’s cool though”

when you walk in the house your greeted by a hyperactive boy, assumed to be around your age

“I’ve been waiting, what took so long?” the boy says

“long walk” jason shrugs “anyways- y/n this is leo, and you already know her so…”

leo beams “great! let’s get this ceremony started!”

not much of a set up, not much of a big ceremony. It was a simple ‘say your vows then kiss let’s get this over with’ for reason one because leo was not legally certified to do this and two because you knew zeus had many eyes and took forms of exotic animals (he could be anywhere- this horrifies you)

not only was leo not certified, he additionally didn’t know how to officiate a wedding. a bunch of nonsense about love spilled from his mouth and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore

“you may now kiss the bride! but not in front of me, please don’t do that in front of me”

you give him a concerned look. and mouth and mutter an ‘okay’ with a slow nod of your head. he was weird wasn’t he?

once you exited the house you got your chance for a kiss- to cement your marriage. however jason has other ideas

“why don’t we go to your palace to consummate our marriage?”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A suspicious man in a trenchcoat, baseball cap, sunglasses, and mask sneaks into Pomefiore. He asks the mob students where he can find Vil Schoenheit and they suspect he’s a crazy super fan. The mob students are prepared to throw him out until who should appear but THE Vil who immediately recognizes the shady man. *“Dad?”*

Out of curiosity, who thirsts for Vil's dad (or at least appreciates the concept of what he could be since we haven't been able to meet him face-to-face yet)???? 😅 I feel like I actually haven't seen much fan art for him even though there seems to be tons for other parents and even siblings. Or maybe that's just because of the fandom circles I'm in??

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"Father?"

“It’s good to see you, my darling Vil.”

The sketchy man peeled away his surgical mask and sunglasses, revealing a brilliant smile and twinkling violet eyes. His hat followed, letting loose a cap of silken gold hair. Most of it had been gently slicked back, allowing for stray locks to curl in easy, effortless waves that called attention to his best features.

There was a rugged youthfulness to him, and what lines were on his skin were worn with grace and dignity. He had the kind of face that passerbys were drawn to: an older, conventional kind of handsome, yes, but with a magnetic warmth inlaid in it. When he laughed, people listened, and when he walked by, heads turned.

And listen and turn they did.

"It's him!! It's THE Eric Venue!!"

The surrounding Pomefiore mob students broke out into gasps and barely contained yelps. One of them fainted, caught in the nick of time by another mob. ("P-Pull yourself together, man!!" he hissed.)

The lounge went still for a second.

Then one voice rose high above the silence.

"Kyaaaaah! Father!!"

With a cry of delight and a giggle, Vil threw his arms around Eric. Entangled, he could breathe in the lovely smell of his father’s sophisticated cologne: jasmine, saffron, and cedarwood.

“What happened?” Vil asked, nearly breathless. “I thought you were busy shooting your new film in the City of Flowers.”

“I was—but I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to see you. I had my manager pull a few strings to clear a day in my schedule to visit. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Father…”

Excited murmurs passed throughout the mob students.

"E-Eh?! Vil-sama squealed like a high school girl just now…”

"I-I didn't realize he was capable of acting so cutesy.”

“Wow, they sparkle so much together. I’m going to be blinded!”

“Ah-HEM!” Vil straightened in his father’s embrace, directing a withering look at his dorm members. "Do you gentlemen mind giving us some privacy? It’s rather rude to eavesdrop and stare at a family reunion.”

There was a flurry of embarrassed apologies and nervous tittering. Then the onlookers hurriedly dispersed, as quickly as the flicker of a humingbird’s wings.

Vil peeled away from his father with a sigh. “Do excuse my dorm members. It seems they need a refresher for their manners.”

“That’s quite alright—it’s not the strangest fan interaction either of us has had,” Eric joked, eyes creasing. “They must have been mystified to witness your cuteness firsthand—as they should be.

“Just look at you!!” He spread out his arms toward Vil. “The fairest of them all, the apple of my eye.”

Vil chuckled, twirling to give his father a full view of him. The hem of his dorm uniform flared out like a flower in bloom.

“You’re all grown up now.” Eric’s voice grew tender, his eyes shimmering with wetness. “Studying magic, leading an entire dorm, going off on your internship next year, furthering your career… You’re going to accomplish so many more great things.”

“You were my very first fan—and I have you to thank for being my inspiration. I can’t possibly take all the credit.”

Eric laughed heartily, wrapping an arm around his son. “I’ve missed this. We have so much catching up to do.”

“We do. Seeing as it’s Family Day, there are even more people on campus than usual. We should be able to blend in easily… provided, of course, the right disguise.” Vil smiled. “If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll be fitted to join you."

“It’ll be just like old times, eh? The two of us gallivanting about in plain sight. You were still new to magic back then, but you were able to do something as impressive as changing the colors of our clothes."

"A color-changing spell such as that is elementary. It's one of the first spells taught to first year students." A smirk tugged at Vil's mouth. "I'll show you just how far I've come since then."

He produced his magical pen from his robes and raised it high into the air. A shower of sparkles rained down from its gemstone, casting Vil in a soft glow. Ribbons of light slowly knitted themselves over his outfit, stretching, stitching, and reshaping his uniform into something new.

As the magic dissipated, fizzling into fine speckles of glitter, Vil stepped out in a chic cream-colored tracksuit and deep purple sneakers. His famous face was obscured by a baseball cap and sunglasses that were identical to his dad's.

Eric's jaw dropped. "I think I'm starstruck again."

"Fufu. I tend to have that effect on people." Vil tugged up the surgical mask affixed to his chin. "Come now, we have a whole day ahead of us!"

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

8. Sponsored by the Devil

Cooper Howard × Fem!Reader / The Ghoul × Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen @one-of-thewalkingdead

AN: Not crazy about this chapter, BUT there is smut at the end so...

I sit at the bar watching the TV. A newscaster babbles on, “As all nations race to secure uranium and control the future of energy, a shortage has emerged, turning even allies into potential competitors. Will energy prices surge this winter and will it lead to an expanded war?” I chuckle softly with the shake of my head, finishing my drink. I see the familiar figure of my old friend. My old friend who sounds like he’s gotten caught up in the communist bullshit. “Sorry you couldn't make it to the party the other night, Charlie,” he looks at me with a blank face. “Guess you had one of your meetings, huh? One of your Communist meetings?” He sighs, taking the seat next to me, “Come on, man.”

“We watched people die together up north fighting against all that horseshit.” He shrugs, “Yeah, and for what?” I scoffed, “What do you mean, for what? For the American dream. We're actors. We make movies, Charlie.”

“Yeah, the American dream has me getting shot in the ass by you all day.” I roll my eyes at his excuse. “You got five acres in Tarzana. I think you're doing all right.” He shakes his head, “It doesn't matter, Coop. Vault-Tec's the fucking devil, man.” I weigh in. “Vault Tech is a shifty company. I’ll give you that. My ex-wife works there. She’s a lot of things, but the devil? Come on now.” “Do you know what "fiduciary responsibility" means?” “Fiduciary responsibility? No, I have no fucking idea. I play a cowboy for a living.”

Charlie goes on, “Okay. So, the U.S. government has outsourced the survival of the human race to Vault-Tec. Vault-Tec is a private corporation that has a fiduciary responsibility to make money for its investors. And how does it make money? By selling vaults.” “That's called capitalism, Charlie.” He continued digging, “But they can't sell vaults if these peace negotiations go through. So Vault-Tec has a fiduciary responsibility to make sure that it doesn't work out.” I can’t even wrap my head around his speech. “Yeah. How are they gonna do that?” He falls flat, “I don't know. You remember that movie we did with Johnny Morton… you were the sheriff and I was some generic Indian?” I disagree, “Come on, man, don't say that. Tall hand Mudlake could talk to horses. You played him with grace and with dignity. It was a great role for you.”

“Morton played a rancher who owned half of Missouri. And what happens when the cattle ranchers have more power than the sheriff?” “The whole town burns down.” “Right. Vault-Tec is a trillion-dollar company that owns half of everything. And after ten years of war, the U.S. government is broker than a joke. The cattle ranchers are in charge, Coop.” I wave at his words again, “Come on, man, you sound like you're in a cult.” He fires back, “And you're sitting here defending a system that's ready to set the world on fire, Cooper. Maybe you're the one in the cult.”

I look away with the roll of my eye. He slides a card on the bar. “Look. You should come to a meeting. You should learn the truth about where your ex-wife works, and what they plan on doing with their employees. For (y/n)‘s sake.” With one final smile, my friend leaves the bar. Leaving me confused and a knot rolling in my chest.

Why the fuck would (y/n) be or any danger with Vault Tech? I stare at the card and begin to dive down a hole I’d rather not be sober for. I raise my hand, gesturing to the bartender, “Bartender, can I get one more?”

~

I caved and went to attend Charlie’s meeting. It was a basic conspiracy for weak-minded individuals. She sits at the front, coffee in hand. “These soldiers that we're fighting abroad, their families, we have more in common with them than we do with the people here in power, the real enemy.” I shake my head, “That's about all the horseshit I can take.” I stand, place my hat back on my head, and make my way to the exit.

“Mr. Howard?” I stop as she addresses me. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said.” I raise my eyebrows at her, “I said that um… this is about all the horseshit I can take.” She smirks, “I didn't realize that America's favorite gunslinger was so sensitive.” She earns soft laughter from her followers. “I have my principles, Miss Williams, that's all.” I try to leave once more but she begins the conversation again, “Uh-huh. And those principles of yours… how much did Vault-Tec pay to take them off your hands?”

“Well, this is America. Everybody has a sponsor, and, uh, I'm not ashamed to earn a living.” She bickers back, “Vault-Tec is the largest company in America. There's a lot of money in selling the end of the world.” I couldn’t take her words. I fire back to her, “Well, I'm sure there's a lot of money in selling a political ideology that ends in breadlines.”

As the crowd gets upset, Charlie stands and backs away with me, “Okay, uh, sorry, this was a mistake. We'll be leaving.” Miss Williams shakes her head, coming to stand. “Oh, no, I'm-I'm quite glad you brought Mr. Howard today. You see, it happens that I know your wife… or Ex-wife. And perhaps a side of her you don't.”

I walk out and she follows close on my heels, catching up by my side. “How do you know my ex-wife?” “My research company was acquired by her division. We were developing this kind of technology that's… difficult to monetize. Cold fusion. Infinite energy. Several projects were advancing. Synthetic creations. That's what I was on the verge of achieving when Vault-Tec swept in and bought up every company I'd ever worked for.” I stare at her with no hesitation, “Every one of them? So, what are you, a millionaire communist?”

“Hypocrisy is like violence in your movies. If you only let the bad guys use it, the bad guys win.” “Yeah? I, uh, I got a little showbiz secret for you. A good bad guy doesn't see themselves as the bad guy.”

She pushes more, “America has been locked in a resource war for over a decade. Vault-Tec bought the means to end that war, the same war you fought in, so they could put it on the shelf. All because it didn't fit into their business model. I want your help in getting it back.” She passes a small device into my palm. I roll the small object in my fingers, “What is it?” “It's a listening device.”

I nod, disbelief running through my mind. “A listening device. You… you want me to spy on them?” I chuckled softly, passing it back, “Good luck with the revolution.” She shakes her head, “You can keep it. As a token.” She sighs, “I'm not a communist, Mr. Howard. That's just a dirty word they use to describe people who aren't insane.” I meet her with silence. She speaks once more in a hushed voice, stepping closer, “I understand you have a fond relationship with Ms. (L/n). If I were you, I’d be keeping her at a distance from Vault Tech. They have plans for her.” I clenched my jaw, “what the hell are you on about?” She taps the small listening device before turning on her heel and returning to her meeting.

~

I sit on the couch bouncing my knee, paranoid, thinking the worst of what could happen to (y/n). They could kidnap her. Keep her trapped in one of those damn vaults. They could kill her!

To add to the stress, we were about to set Janey down and talk to her. I roll the divine in my pocket overthinking the worst. My nerves got the best of me, and I gave up, going to the pip-boy on the counter. The divide pairs within seconds. Just in time for Barb to walk out and retrieve the bulky oversized wrist technology. She straps it onto her wrist before looking at me, eyebrows raised. “Are you ready?” I nod, “Yeah. I'll be out there in just a minute.”

She nods and exits the house. I watch as she sits down with Janey. I place the listening divide in my ear, clearly hearing Barb and Janey from outside. Roosevelt whines causing me to shake my head. There was no logical reason to believe anything those conspiracy theorists had to say. “You're right, Roosevelt,” I tuck the small device into my pocket, “What are you thinking?”

Janey has to be the smartest, and most intelligent little girl in the world. I had been very honest in explaining how her mother and I just didn’t feel the same and how we were going to be living away from each other. She knew something had been off for months. She had no issue expressing her feelings and opinions on the scheduling. “As long as daddy and (y/n) can take me for ice cream every other Friday!” I smile at Janey, while Barb does not. She simply ignores it.

~

The sun rose on Saturday morning, kissing the land of California. I stand on the back patio with a cup of coffee just taking in the beauty. It had been a month to the day since Cooper and I started dating. Life was good. I was happy. He was here more days out of the week than not. I couldn’t think of a better day than today to tell him the news.

The sliding glass door catches my attention. Cooper walks out, coffee in hand and a smile on his face. He wraps an around around me, nuzzling into my neck. “Good morning.” It’s such a perfect paradise with him at this moment. “Good morning, love.” I lean back into him, rubbing my fingertips up his arm, tracing each speck and freckle. “I have a surprise for you.” He looks down, trying to find a hint within my soul. “What type of surprise?” I turn around in his hold, now facing him. “A good one. I think you’ll be pleased with it.” He trails a finger down the front of my chest, dipping into my robe, brushing my concealed skin. “Wouldn’t happen to be you would it?” I shake my head, moving out of his grasp before I get caught up. “Nope. Get dressed Mr. Howard because we are going on a little adventure.”

We both get ready and exit my house. I get into the driver's seat before he can argue. "So where are we going?" I smirk at him as I begin to drive to the secret location. "You'll see."

We pass the line in Bakersfield and Cooper looks at me, even more confusion in his eyes. 30 more minutes down the line we pull up to a gate. I flip the keypad and enter the entrance code. The large gate slides open and I drive up the start of a long gravel driveway. Cooper looks at the surroundings in awe. The lush land filled with vegetation, and life. "6 acres on each side. There's a big barn in the back. I figured Sugarfoot could have his own space." Cooper sits silently as we pull up to the large cabin. I park the car and turn off the engine. I exit with a smile. "Are you coming?"

Cooper gets out of the vehicle, mouth gaping as he tries to make sense of the situation. "What did… Is this…" I grab his hand, intertwining our fingers. "It's ours." I pull the keys from my pocket and dangle them in front of his face. "How did you do this?" I waved my hand at him, "It was nothing. Heather and her boyfriend are sold in California. I offered them my house at an amazing rate, and I was able to get this place up here."

I squeeze his hands with a nervous smile. "I knew this was a risk. A huge one, but I know we had talked about it before, and it was just the perfect opportunity. It just… felt right." Cooper finally breaks into a smile, he hoists me up into his arms. I laugh in surprise, "What in the world are you doing?" He smiles charmingly down at me. "Well, I'm carrying you through the threshold of our new home, sweetheart." Nothing could be better than this moment. He passes through the doorway, the warmth of the cabin enveloping us in its glow.

"What you say we… break in a few rooms? See if the acoustics are good for that angelic voice of yours. I want you to sing for me, honey. Just the way you know I like." He kisses up my neck mumbling into my skin. Room by room Cooper drew orgasm from me. Each one is stronger than the last.

He carries me from the kitchen counter to the long hallway, posting me up on the wall, fucking into me with long thrusts. I moan out loudly the sound carrying through the halls. Cooper smirks, biting his lip as he hears my echoed pants bouncing off the walls.

''That's my girl,'' Cooper rumbled out, pressing his fingers into my cheeks, forcing me to glue my eyes on him. I summoned every ounce of strength I had to begin lifting my hips away from him. I couldn't take anymore, and he knew it. The pressure eased as his girth slowly withdrew from the depths of my sensitive walls. He pushes me into the wall further, deepening his thrusts.

I mewled involuntarily to his sudden way to keep me still. ''I don't think I can-'' I managed to blurt out, despite the trembling rushing through my entire body as his strong hands held me firmly in place.

''Of course, you can, sweetheart.'' He cooed through a strained groan. The stretch of his length was just right, so satisfying that made me want to writhe and squirm on top of him, to lose myself in the rawness of the moment. The friction of our bodies, the sound of our combined breaths, the intoxicating scent of cigarettes and expensive perfume hanging heavy in the air.

''Cooper,'' I cried out from the immense fullness of his length, unable to contain the bliss as every nerve in my body was set on fire. One of his hands traced a path up the curve of my side, his touch sending electric tingles through my skin, each movement leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

He exits my heat, earning a whine from me. He moves us to lie on the sofa. He guided me to sit on his lap, lining his length up again. He kisses up my spine. He lifted one hand from my hip, a tender touch that trailed the expanse of my body until it reached my face and cupped my cheek to tilt my head downwards, coaxing me to meet his gaze.

Cooper leaned close, his breath warm against my ear, "Show me what a good cowgirl you can be." He murmured, the boom of his voice low and primal. As soon as he spoke those words, my hips jerked into action. I leaned back against his chest, grinding down on him, rising and falling on his cock like a bitch in heat.

''That's right, sweetheart,'' Cooper strained,  breathless mumbling reverberated through the warm cabin. He slipped a hand from my hips and with ease, he directed his attention to the most sensitive bud of nerves.

His touch met the tender flesh, I gasped at the sensation, the smooth pad of his finger gliding over the bundle of my clit. Cooper groaned from behind, ''You just keep riding me like that," He helped put motion into my movement. I was a mess, sobs escaped as the pleasure ripped through me.

I surrendered myself completely to him once more, needing nothing but him. Always him. Mustering up all the strength in my legs, I bounced on him even harder than before. My walls tightened around Coooper's length, and my climax finally burst. The waves crash causing me to see stars.

With each clench, I felt him twitch from inside. I lean back as he says, "Stay inside, Cooper." He sucked in a breath, biting into the skin of my shoulder. His thrusts are relentless as he pursues his release. All it took was a few more thrusts, and his body was convulsing beneath me, his movements seeming almost otherworldly while he emptied himself inside my cunt.

He lurched forward, dragging me close to his bare chest. He slowly rolled us over, his cock slipped free. I sighed heavily, but satiated and nestled into him. "Home sweet fucking home." Cooper leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. ''I say we broke in every fuckin inch of this place, sweetheart."

[seoafin]

This is going to be weird, but you prompted some thoughts in me about rip!mc when you said you can’t envision her living past 50. So when I was 16 during lunch one time, I got this sinking feeling that I wouldn’t live past 24. I didn’t think too much about it at the time, but over the years I’ve thought about it more and now I turn 24 in two months. And this is almost certainly just an intrusive thought, but it’s still there and it’s been playing on my paranoia and expectations of my life for years. My Abuelo always said that he would be ready to go at 60 and he didn’t expect to live past that, but he’s now 90 and still kicking. It’s tangential and I’m definitely projecting, but I feel like rip!mc is similar in the sense that she’s fully ready to be dead before 50, she’d be content even to live that long considering their world as jujutsu sorcerers and really she expects to be dead long before that. But instead, she just keeps living and having to figure out how to keep going. She can’t just give up because there are people who care about her and who she cares for in turn, and they wouldn’t let her anyways. Like even if stsg died first in whatever au it is, there’s a part of me that imagines her one day as a granny in a garden where you can look up at the stars at night. Like her kids with stsg have their own kids at this point that always come to stay at her house, and megumi 100% still visits with his kids and their kids. Like I just hope she’s learned to be content and to let herself be happy. And of course this could be the complete opposite of where you see her going which is absolutely valid, you’ve just made me really care about her with your wonderful writing. I just love the idea of taking this person who doesn’t expect or even want to live very long because they had so much pain and having them get to cherish decades and decades of a life experiencing love completely to their astonishment. God you’ve made me insane lmao thank you so much for your beautiful stories!! - times

messages that have me tearing up at 12 in the morning this ask literally touched me so much you don't understand 😭😭😭😭 i love when people tell me their little stories as a way to relate to ripmc it's so human and not weird at all. it's wonderful it's lovely i love when people tell me something that made them resonate with her! like yes she was always meant to be a projection of the reader reading! but she also probably reflects a lot back to the reader just as they project onto her. it always worries me when people say that relate too hard to ripmc (rip my ao3 comments 😭😭) also in my mind it's kinda always just been oh ripmc probably just expires at 50 because somehow that's how it was always supposed to be. she was supposed to die but she didn't. it's just natural that she dies early. it was also probably me wanting to give her some peace in death but also why!!! i don't necessarily think there's more grace in death than living. sorry i don't know where this is going but you're right! there is grace and happiness and dignity in living to an old age, surrounded by the people you love! it's not wrong to live. there's never anything wrong in wanting to live.

[gingerylangylang1979]

The Personal Lives of Celebrities

It is easy to get sucked into the personal lives of celebrities. Just like spoilers, it’s hard to ignore “news” if you engage with social media at all and it’s hard to resist wanting to know more about people you crush on and who’s work you admire. But really, what can you ever truly know besides what’s presented to you? And what’s present to you, is just that, a presentation. 

I would like to think people I am fans of are great drama-free people but even when I see evidence of such I always take it with a grain of salt. It could be true, it could be all a front, or it could be a mix of both. For any number of accounts praising someone like a saint there could be something mentioned down the road to discredit it. Someone can be “good” or “bad” depending on the moment. And with celebrities all we get are snapshots that are open to interpretation. 

Recently there has been a phenomenon of wanting to cancel people based on bad behavior. Each person has a level of tolerance for someone’s behavior. I can not care about some things and other things are deal breakers. That’s natural. But what I see often is a lack of giving grace and thinking someone cannot be redeemed. We right off people and want to strip them of dignity and a way forward because they stumbled. This happens IRL, this happens online and I think it’s sad. We may evolve or we may keep fighting the same demons forever. We all deserve dignity either way. 

These thoughts were sparked by the recent news of Jeremy Allen White and Addison Timlin divorcing. I’m a huge fan of his and it has been hard to stay away from gossip. I’m not perfect and have fallen into the temptation to be in the know but ever since the first rumblings, I was like eh. I know in my heart it’s none of my business and that anything posted is only speculation unless confirmed. I mean confirmed by the parties involved. Any piece of a rumor could be true, it could all be false, or the whole thing could be true. We don’t know unless there is actual proof and acknowledgment. All we have to go on is a separation filing, a divorce filing, two blind items, one person’s Instagram post, and another person’s silence. 

I have opinions about these things, of course, but in no way do I have any conclusions. I can’t condemn anyone’s character. How am I supposed to know? Both parties could be messy, one could be innocent, both could be innocent but all we know is there is a family that has been broken by broken people. I say broken people not to vilify but to humanize. Some of the issues could be very Hollywood but broken families and drama happen with anyone, no matter their status or environment. 

I will continue to be a fan of Jeremy because of his work. That could change but it won’t be based on gossip. I can’t be worried if he is the victim, villain, or both in whatever the true story is. Everyone involved just needs prayer and support regardless of what happened. 

[ephemeronidwrites]

if you're still doing the OC codex entries. "your OC talking about your favorite quest" for vrenika, please

Oh, those will be open forever, or until I go through them all for all the OC's I have (whichever comes first). Feel free to hit me up whenever / ifever you'd like to see another one.

That goes for every one of my (five) followers, btw, as well as anyone who happens to wander lost into my writeblr and is curious just what the f*** they've stumbled into.

14: Your OC talking about your favorite quest

(I shocked myself—and also made myself a liar—by somehow knocking out this one in, like, an afternoon. So treat the other one as a freebie that no one asked for?)

An unopened letter found in an abandoned, derelict property in Kirkwall’s Hightown, languishing out of sight behind a broken, dust-covered statue in the foyer.

Fenris,

I know you’re busy with your own issues these days, and I apologise for bothering you with something outside of your concerns, but you’re the only person I could think of who could give me advice about something like this.

Now that they’ve gotten some of the cleanup out of the way, it seems they’ve decided to have the funeral for Saemus next week. They’re giving him full Andrastian rites.

You don’t know him, not beyond his name and face. I’m aware of this. To be quite frank, I’m not even sure how well I knew him.

What little I do know about Saemus tells me this: he would not want his body turned into public theatre like this.

I’ve already been to Elth the Grand Cleric about this and she assured me that the Chantry will treat his memory with “the utmost respect” and “all the dignity due his station”, but the thing is… I know that was the very station he absolutely loathed.

And she refused to talk about Petrice. I can’t shake the idea that if it wasn’t for what that Petrice did oh, what’s the use of writing about it here?

I don’t know if you even want to help, given the way you feel about If you don’t, I’ll understand. But I am at my wit’s end about this and I’m grasping at straws here.

If it was just a matter of me taking matters into my own hands, I’m used to that sort of thing. I took over things after my father died. After Mother died. I mean, sure, I fucked it all up in both those cases, but those were my mistakes to own. My family, my people. I can take responsibility for my own mistakes. Or try, anyway.

I can’t take that risk with Saemus because he’s not mine. But I also can’t give up on him because he has no one else. No one knew him better than I did, except his qunari friends. And they’re all dead at my hands. So now it’s fallen to me to remember Saemus as he really was as I think he would have wanted to be remembered and… I don’t know what that all would mean, and I don’t know how to even start going about knowing.

Again, you have no reason to be dragged into any of this. But you’ve spent time among people who are… sort of like the Qunari? I’m not sure what exactly all that involved for you, but I do know you know a whole lot more about their tongue and any rules they might have around this sort of situation than I do.

Please, help if you can.

I would have come to ask you in person but the last… oh, I don’t know, six times I came by the townhouse you weren’t there. If you’re not going to be there, or show up to Wicked Grace, at least smear some slaver blood on my door within the week. Or whatever else is convenient for you. Just some kind of sign to let all of us know you’re still kicking.

(Yes, even Anders, I promise you. He’ll draw fuel from his seething hatred of you. It’s healthy for him. You know how he is.)

Hoping you’re safe, wherever you are,

Vrenika

P.S. I just realized after writing out this whole thing that you might not be able to read it all. But I gave myself hand cramps writing it, and the ink’s just finished drying, and if you come over to tell me (correctly) what a massive idiot I am that’s exactly what I wanted from you anyway, so here goes nothing.

[alyjojo]

Advice to Work on Yourself ⚽️ in July 2023: Taurus

9 Swords - The Moon - Page of Cups & Wheel of Fortune

Regarding: 3 Wands

You are SO stressed out! And Spirit doesn’t want you to be. This whole reading is about you releasing control of things you really have no control over, and distracting yourself with things you need or what makes you happy. Being present, in the moment, and not worrying about the future any more than you have to. You’re full of love, deep emotions, very sensitive. You’re could be waiting to hear about a Pisces person, or could have it in your chart, for some. Your own deep, very intense depth of feeling scares you. You could be in love with someone and afraid to tell them. You could be waiting on some kind of results and are afraid of what they’ll be. You could be worried that someone is a liar, secretly hates you, keeps things from you, moves in secret behind your back. You could be worried about a family member’s situation, work, anything. More than just this situation, you’re terrified of something shocking you out of your comfort zone, changing your entire perception of how things were vs. how they are now, a Tower.

That’s the Taurus struggle, for all placements. Earth wants to control its reality to keep it stable, secure, and being fixed, your sign is the least likely of the earth signs to handle crisis, spontaneity, sudden changes of plans, or shocking information well. At worst, there could be some level of trauma that’s made you react in this fearful way. Your advice are all things that release this tension you have, redirecting your energy from worrying to enjoying yourself, self care, gratitude, exercise. Everything you fear is unknown, which you hate, because you can’t do anything about it. Wheel of Fortune confirms you can’t, but you can choose to see things from the most positive perspective instead of a negative and fearful one. This is like “let go & let God”, because you don’t have a choice. Apply your need for control and rule abiding structure to things you actually can work on, like health, cooking, journaling, reading, building stuff, etc.

But I also get that whatever you are stressing out about is going to turn out to be okay, and you just need to give things time ❤️

Animal Oracle: Peacock 🦚

“Let yourself stand out and be noticed.”

It’s time to step forward and stop hiding behind any of the facades that you’ve developed over the years. Although these personals have been highly adaptive and have helped you along the way - for which you can be grateful - there more of you to express to the world, and it’s ready to emerge. There’s a certain safety and comfort in being inconspicuous and always staying in the background, her in playing it safe in this way, others don’t have the opportunity to get to know who you really are, and you don’t get to experience the richness and textures that are possible by participating more fully in life. By remaining in the background, you not only alienate yourself from others, but often end up allowing others to choose for you. Doing so can make you feel like a passive victim of life.

Being noticed does have some risks. People may criticize or judge you, particularly if they’re not used to you asserting yourself in such a way. Or you may judge yourself, which can be an even harsher sentence. These are the most likely risks, but they’re actually very minimal. So shed any guilt or shame about coming out with who you are. Wear more colorful clothing, sing, dance, and let others know your thoughts, feelings, and opinions. You can do so with grace, dignity, and enthusiasm - and you might even enjoy it!

Artist Oracle: SALVADOR DALI

- Never make an appearance without controversy.

- Tap the unconscious and pray it isn’t boring.

- Being Dali is inspiration enough.

Advice:

- Practice Daily Reflection

- Move More

- Build Your Culinary Repertoire

Charms:

Pisces ♓️ on King of Cups is emotionally mature, loving, kind, and always considers their emotions when making decisions, they will put their heart over their logical mind if it’s regarding someone or something they deeply care about. It’s a sign of sacrifice, but also not worth sacrificing your own peace of mind and happiness, it’s their own struggle. It’s a sign that can drown in emotions, illusions, fears, escapism, confusion and daydreams. You can be this way, or could be dealing with one, but you need to keep your feet grounded in reality, as a Taurus, with such a deep need for controlling your environment, your advice is to get out of your head and into your present situation.

Castle 🏰 on 9 Swords could be referring to a home situation, family members, the people that are closest to you. If The Tower is your home, you fear it falling constantly, because you want 4 Wands not a Tower. Someone close to you may be having issues with a home and you’re losing your head over it trying to come up with a solution - that someone else may have. Or you need to give this time, because something is out of your hands.

Black Swan (reversed) 🦢 on The Moon show negative fears and worries with no negative intent. You could be projecting, assuming, jumping to conclusions, fearing the worst and unable to see any real answers, there are no swords helping you to cut fears/illusions, you probably can’t tell which way or up or down in this situation, much less finding a solution. In time, someone is going to take the reins, or you will, in order to heal. Good news comes with it. Patience & time.

Dancer 💃 (reversed) on Move More is literal exercise that you’re not doing, because you’re not putting yourself first, and you’re not focused on things like health. But exercise is a great stress reliever and should be used as such. When it’s too much, go for a run. Dance, walk, jog, jiggy, waltz, jump rope, swim, shimmy, whatever makes you feel good and it’s also good for you. If you’re physically worn out, then you’re too tired to care this much or worry, go wear yourself out instead 😊

[pale-handsss]

the real me is skinny

friday march 24th

Starting off today choosing to feel motivated rather than guilty or upset. My body is my life’s work and sometimes, things gather dust. I’ve fallen back into binge eating lately; not binging exactly (not insanely high calorie limits, not scarfing food in solitude etc) but feeling completely out of control around food and eating faster/more than others at the table. I’ve been eating as much if not more than my husband, who is twice my size. I feel horrible about the way I eat, especially when I’m eating around other people who comment on how much I eat or how I eat. Yesterday at dim sum with my mother in law, she showed so much superiority over me; eating slowly, picking at things, not eating things she didn’t have a taste for.

My mother in law is a huge source of stress in my life; I genuinely hate being around her 90% of the time and she’s caused me massive problems, especially over the last year. The last thing I want to do is feel inferior to her around food. If I can’t control myself around food around her, how do I expect myself to feel strong enough to stand up against her bullshit?

Even my husband, who is tall and thin genetically, eats with more grace and dignity than I do. I’m heavy with all these perspectives on me and how I deal with food - people saying I eat so fast, people saying I eat a lot, people assuming I eat a lot all the time, so on and so forth. No one says anything like “and you manage to stay so thin!” - because I’m not thin. Not now, at least.

My best self, however, is thin. She eats slowly and fills up on water and tea most of the time. I have been a thin person so many times in my life and everyone could see it. I’m going to look back on this point and be able to say things like “I used to eat so fast but I’ve learned to pace myself”, and “my appetite has changed a lot over the last few months”. The people around me will notice, and I just know they’ll praise me for it, like I deserve.

I deserve to be thin. I work so hard and do so much for the people around me, and yet I lack respect for myself and my body. My disrespect and lack of care for myself ends today.

I have all the things I need for success, and I only want to lose 20lbs. Truthfully I want to find a way to maintain 105lbs long term, but my goal is to hit 100lbs just to finally say I did it. I went from 130lbs in August to 117lbs in January, so I know it’s possible and I know how to do it. It’s not rocket science. I have exercise games I can play at home and with Spring on the horizon, it’ll be easier and easier to get outside and move my body more. A consistent average of 1000kcal intake weekly, small meals eaten mindfully and plenty of water and tea will get me to where I deserve to be.

My first goal is to reach 115lbs by May 1st.  My second goal is to reach 110lbs by July 1st. I want to be 105lbs for my anniversary on August 13th. Finally, I want to see 100lbs before the end of 2023.

I think right now the best thing I can do is throw myself into aesthetically pleasing ways of consistent motivation throughout the day. Only finding time to think about my diet in the morning and before bed gives too much space to wander off the path. I’ll be writing in here as much as I need to, and I’ve also put together a bullet journal spread for extra inspiration. 

This morning I woke up 120.0lbs exactly, which is such a perfect starting point. Getting back to 117lbs shouldn’t take much time at all.

[astaroth1357]

How the Brothers Would Try to Get the MC Back After a Breakup

I have a much longer one in the works, but dug this out of my old drafts and just had to polish it off real quick. Not sure why I never finished it. 🤷‍♀️

Lucifer

His first tactic is to try and make them try to get back with him.

That means he’s going to go out and slay it! He’s going to make sure he’s looking great and really making a point of just how much he can do and how capable he is in literally Every. Way. If they’re watching, he’s going to be amazing. Period.

Buuut he’ll be sure to treat them super coldly throughout... This isn’t him trying to nicely ask them to come back to him, oh no, this is just making a point about how much they threw away, stupid human...!

If this doesn’t send them crawling back then he’s really in a bad place… He really needs them to come back on their own because his pride won't let him…

If he ever has to ask, it will feel more like a business deal than a reconciliation but that means he’s desperate. Hear him out at least.

Mammon

He’s going to be an absolute nightmare...

I think we all know that Mammon would fall apart without MC and it really wouldn't be a graceful fall…

Man will go through all the stages of grief seemingly every hour, everywhere from "WELL I DON'T NEED YA ANYWAY!" to, "Baby I'll buy ya anything, please come back…!"

The worst of it comes out when he's drunk and it's also when his worst ideas sound fantastic!

Not above breaking into their room at night just to sing them a poorly-written, sappy love song.

Also not above begging his brothers, Simeon, and even Diavolo for ideas on how to win them back.

If he could put it on one of those airplane banners and fly it across the Devildom, he would. Please MC, he's trying here…

Leviathan

Pity. Pity. So much pity. He is not afraid to treat his own dignity like collateral damage if he has to.

In the weeks after the breakup, Levi would probably be best described as one of those gelatinous deep sea Blobfish thrown on dry land, just with 90% more sadness and wallowing.

Assuming he leaves his room at all, he'll look like complete trash who hasn’t slept in weeks. Just an ultra-depressed otaku covered in Dorito dust and self-pity…

Basically, everything about him is going to scream, "I'M MISERABLE WITHOUT YOU, PLEASE COME COMFORT ME!!!" and considering that may have initiated their relationship to start with, it's not a terrible tactic.

If turning into a pathetic beached jellyfish of despair doesn't work then he'll try begging too. Third brother or not, dignity was never a priority here. Just MC… Always MC.

Satan

Meet our resident drunk texter.

During the day, Satan is going to take more of a Lucifer route and just be as impressive as he possibly can. However, he doesn't quite have Lucifer's level of deep emotional repression through pure spite…

What that means is occasionally he's going to crack and it's rough.

Get a few drinks in him and Satan will just break into a sobbing mess… Any poor soul in the vicinity will have to listen to his incoherent babbling about how many dates he's had with MC, how much he loves them, and why he can't sleep without them anymore…

But the texts… Man, are they something…

Satan: MC yourr the sptinkles to my waffls

Satan: why did you leave me? 🥺

Satan: im in the bat, its really cold  here

Satan: pleaae come home 😭😭😭

Satan: I'd murder fr yo

Satan: i mean love you

Satan: come back please

Asmodeus

Jealousy. Pure, simple jealousy. You think he can’t have three other people on his arms by the end of the week? Don't you know what you’re missing??

If Mammon is going through grief stages, then Asmo is stuck on anger. To think that he, HE, would be broken up with!! The nerve!!!

He'll go out clubbing and fucking and make a big'ol deal out of it for at least a week, but if it doesn't really help his case then he's really screwed… (like, figuratively this time)

After his anger burns out there'll be A LOT of crying and Asmo will make it his mission to get together again!!

That could involve everything from long-winded apology speeches, to dragging Solomon into complicated "Let's date again!" schemes, to dangling himself in front of MC like a carrot on a stick to try and entice them back.

EVERYONE in the House is going to hear about it and it'll drive them all crazy, but hey, anything in the name of love, damnit!!

Beelzebub

Lots of gifts, mostly food.

You'd think he'd be leaving offerings to a pagan god with the amount of food he tries to give MC… The man could actually feed a village with those plates!

To be frank, Beel doesn’t even have to do all that much in the grand scheme of things. A sad Beel is like a sad puppy, it just tugs at the heartstrings by its pure existence!

It also helps that he'd be willing to just… talk about getting back together like emotionally mature adults (novel concept, I know)

If they talk it out and the MC still isn't interested then expect more food and more sad Beel... He'll pretty much be like a depressed Santa Claus with a bag of T-bone steaks.

Be careful how long you keep Beel sad for though, MC, because Belphie isn't afraid to murder you twice. He's keeping a knife in that pillow. Be warned.

Belphegor

He's too busy not caring to even try.

Seriously. He doesn't care. Really. Not at all. Not even a little. Were they even dating? He didn't notice!

In fact, he doesn't care so much that he's going to nap in all of their favorite places, rewatch all of their favorite movies, and listen to their favorite songs because he just doesn't give a shit.

He doesn't care so much that he'll totally still invite them out to festivals and theme parks because it doesn't matter and they can still have a lot of fun together anyway!

He doesn't care SO FREAKING MUCH that if they wanted to nap together again or even cuddle a bit it's totally fine because it doesn't mean anything and he's fine and they're fine and this is fine!! Everything is a'okay!!!

See? No complaints outta him. But if they wanted to get back together uh… that's fine too… please...

[wri0thesley]

Nat. NAT. I just saw your concept about naoya "training" his wife by just throwing her in the room and just watching her struggle to defend herself... Until she ofc breaks and begs him to protect her🙈 you have a MASSIVE brain, the biggest and horniest brain nat can you please write this concept for the event😭😭 maybe w 45 and any other dark or spicy add ons that you see fit!

traditional discipline - naoya x fem!reader (3.3k)

naoya has had enough of you, and resorts to an unusual method of discipline.

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. DARK CONTENT. unhealthy relationship/marriage. fearplay, dacryphilia, finger-sucking, cock-sucking, punishment, threat of violence and death. dubious consent. afab reader with fem pronouns. 

[a/n: this concept literally wouldn’t leave me alone. i’m sorry to all of the readers who are naoya’s wife i’m always so horrible to them]

The room goes quiet as Naoya hauls you out of it by your upper arm.

It’s an easy mistake, a simple slip-up; accidentally talking over your husband. But it’s one in a slew you’ve been making recently, despite Naoya thinking that you were polite and well-bred and knew your place. He’s sick of it, to be quite frank; he doesn’t have time to be correcting you when you should already know how to behave.

You’ve done accidental, small things since the two of you were married. Denying him when he rolled you onto your back at night. Not standing quite as far behind him as you should. Pouring tea for other people before him. He’s given you swift reprimand with both his words and his hands, but . . . it’s clearly not sinking into your pretty little head, is it?

He warned you about this.

“Next time,” he’d growled to you, when you’d laughed too loud at a joke that one of his brothers had made and not laughed at one of his, “I’m going to teach you a real lesson.”

He tells you about the ‘training and discipline room’ on the Zenin estate later that night. A room that the family use for honing cursed techniques, both for practising and for learning purposes, when someone needs to be brought down a peg or two. It’s full of cursed spirits – all the way up to grade two, which makes your blood run cold.

Of course, you have cursed energy. You even have a careful little technique; one that would wrap your enemies up in vines, if you’d ever been allowed to train to use it for anything other than keeping your well-appointed garden neat and orderly. Naoya would not have married someone without either of those things, lest they not bear him fruitful children--

But you have never been allowed to use it for anything more.

The women of your clan are pretty decoration, with no need to learn anything other than how to behave and how to please their masters-and-husbands. You would be useless, thrown into the den of the wolves like that.

“Please don’t,” you’d said to him, your voice all soft and gentle, trying to be appeasing. “Please. I promise I’ll try harder.”

Naoya had taken your chin between thumb and forefinger, the grin across his face very sharp as his light eyes took in the pleading in your own gaze. You remember how the light had hit his earrings, the look of satisfaction at your begging and having you utterly and completely under his thumb.

“Be good,” he’d breathed, all slow and drawling. “And I won’t have to, will I?”

And he’d bid you to get on your knees for him and show you just how good you could be. Starting with your mouth.

So you know where he’s dragging you, down the labyrinthine halls of the estate. You try and pull back, feet sliding on the tatami mat, your voice pitching as you say;

“Naoya, please, I’m sorry--”

“Women should be seen and not heard,” he says to you. “Don’t make a fuss like that. You earned this.”

Your eyes are filling with tears, hot fear clawing its way up your throat.

“I’ll do anything,” you say to him, despite knowing that it’s a dangerous bargain to give him. He almost considers it for a moment, pausing – but then, his fingers just dig harder into the softness of your bicep (you’re going to bruise), and he tugs you.

“You’re making a scene,” he says. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave you in there even longer.” You try to wrench your arm out of his grip, all of your self-defense mechanisms going into overdrive as you recognise the door he’s leading to you too. You’re breathless, so frightened you think that your heart might stop.

Naoya opens the door and pulls you in. You almost stumble at the flight of stairs, but he clicks his tongue at you in annoyance.

“So clumsy,” he drawls. “And here I was, under the impression I was marrying a graceful, lovely, credit to her family--” More steps, until he’s gotten you in the middle of the floor. He gazes around him, and you hear the low hum of a hundred cursed spirit’s voices murmuring the same things, over and over again. “The only time you’re a credit to them is with your legs spread.”

“Naoya,” you whimper, torn between pushing yourself into him for the comfort and protection that you know he can offer, or trying to tear away from him and escape the room yourself. You know the second option won’t work – he’s far faster, far stronger than you – but it’s hard to think of anything when you feel like your very survival is teetering impossibly over your head.

“If you run,” he says, still in that cold, uninterested drawl, “I’ll break one of your ankles.”

You don’t think he’s bluffing. Naoya says a lot of things, yes – but he’s also reckless and proud enough to mean them. You stand there, next to him, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“W-why aren’t they attacking yet?” You ask him, voice very small. He looks at you pityingly.

“They’re afraid of me, obviously,” he says to you, very slowly, like he’s explaining it to somebody very stupid. “I didn’t get this good at everything by not training myself, darling.” He lets go of you, finally, a whistle escaping his pursed mouth as he rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s supremely unconcerned by your fear. “When I’m gone, they’ll come out for you.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask him, desperation leaking into your cracked voice. “I can’t—I can’t protect myself--”

Naoya narrows his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you were such a pain,” he replies. And, without further ado, he turns around and begins to ascend the stairs again. You turn with him, moving forward, stumbling in your haste and ending up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with your hand pathetically fisted into the hem of his hakama.

He looks down at you with a disgusted sneer on his face, and you hate that even with that expression his features are still unmistakably handsome.

“Let go,” he says. “Have some dignity.”

“Please,” you repeat. You can feel a fat tear spilling from the corner of your eye down the curve of your cheeks. You know the ‘dignity’ statement is a dig; the fact that you’ve heard his family members calling your clan power-hungry undignified gold-digging whores, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you can see the beginning of shadows spilling out too far into the main floor of the room. “Naoya. Please.”

He kicks out at your wrist, face twisted in distaste, and you let go to avoid it being stood on and crushed under his strength. You cradle it against your chest, looking up at him still all desperate and afraid.

“If I helped,” he said to you, “you’d never learn your lesson.” He takes a step up and turns away completely from you, as if you’re nothing more than an ignored child on the street. “It will be good for you, beloved wife. Character-building.” You hear the smirk in his voice and you hate him.

You want to strangle him. You want to beg him to protect you. You want to tear him limb from limb, but you want him to let you bury your head in his chest as he dispels the spirits with ease. You want--

The door slams shut behind him. He’s too cheerful as he throws behind him;

“Good luck!”

And you are left alone.

It takes a moment before anything slithers out from the shadows, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming. The first cursed spirit is a hunched over creature with the face of a Pierrot clown, mouth stretched impossibly wide with gaping black abyss where eyes ought to be. It’s whispering something over and over to itself, but the wide mouth is so crowded with teeth that it comes out as an incomprehensible noise, dripping drool as it begins to move horrifically slowly towards you.

Oh, God. You’re not supposed to look at them, are you? You dimly recall something about many sorcerers wearing glasses so the creatures can’t tell where their gazes are, but this one has already got the scent of you; those dark pits staring at your crumpled form.

Everything you’ve ever been told in passing about jujutsu and cursed spirits and cursed technique just seems to flow out of your mind to be replaced by mind-numbing fear. You’ve not been trained for this; when your clan had arranged your marriage with Naoya, you know that they’d expected fine silken kimonos and traditional food and you being a pretty trophy on the arm of the future leader of their clan. You know they’d be horrified if they saw what was happening.

More of them are melting from the shadows, the whispering and moaning reaching a terrifying crescendo. You’re trembling. Your heart is beating so fast inside of your chest you think it might break free of your ribcage and sputter out onto the floor.

The Pierrot monster is close enough that you can see the six hands it drags on the floor are all tipped with claws that are sharp as blades. You scramble up the stairs on your ass, too afraid to turn your back on the creatures. You realise you’re shouting, but it seems just as blurred as anything that the cursed spirits are saying. You’re crying, too – howling, whimpering, so scared you’re surprised any noise is able to come out at all.

You’re going to die.

It hits you with cruel certainty as you reach the top and throw your weight at the door, only for it to not give an inch. You scramble at the heavy wood, not caring about your careful manicure (Naoya wants you to be a credit to him, and that means manicures and facial treatments and a fancy bathroom full of soaps and creams that he expects you to use and that he slathers, too, on himself). You hear a nail break but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that when the Pierrot monster is dragging itself up the flight of stairs, one step at a time. It makes a hideous sliding thump, like it’s both wet and heavy – and you notice, too, the scent of blood invading your senses.

Your tear-blurred eyes can see all of the other monsters, too – not quite as close, but still too close for comfort. Too many eyes and not enough eyes, too many legs, claws and teeth and misshapen bones and blood leaking from holes. What are you supposed to do?

Naoya has left you here, alone, to teach you a lesson. You hadn’t realised the lesson would culminate in your death, but with all of the spirits so close to you, you cannot see any other way.

All of the fight goes out of you and you sag against the door, a broken sob escaping your lips. Your throat is dry from hoarse screaming.

You are going to die. You hope it will come quick; you hope the Pierrot monster will tear you limb from limb and you’ll die in instants from the shock. Your voice whispers Naoya’s name one last, hopeless time.

Will he find another wife? Will they even bother covering up your death, or will they spin some rumour or lie to your family and the whole of jujutsu society that you brought it upon yourself?

You would do anything to be rescued right now. You would crawl on your hands and knees behind Naoya for the rest of your life, refer to him only as ‘Master’, fulfil every single thing he ever asked you with no more than a meek nod of your head. Pull out your tongue so you couldn’t make any more mistakes.

But the time for pleading seems to have gone entirely, and you are useless and stupid and weak as you run out of tears, eyes burning. All you can do, you think, is wait for death.

The door swings open behind you and you’re dragged backwards, onto tatami, by powerful hands gripping your shoulders as it closes once more with a massive clunk that echoes in your ears--

And you find yourself strewn out on the floor, face caked with dried tear-tracks, a trembling, pathetic mess looking up at your husband’s face.

He leans against the door, listening to you scream. He can hear his name mixed in with sobs and screams and pleading; saying that you’ll do anything, you’re sorry, you’ll never disobey him again you’ll take any punishment he metes out with a smile on your face, if he just helps you. He hears you call yourself weak and pathetic and useless around the tears clogging your throat; he hears the thump of you hitting the door and the sound of your nails scratching down the wood, uncaring of anything other than getting away from them.

Yes, he thinks as he opens the door for you and you fall, shivering and sobbing, in front of him. Yes, he thinks you’ve learnt your lesson.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, closing it once more (he sees the cursed spirits begin to creep back to where they came from at the very sight of him, now their preferred victim is protected), with your eyes all glassy and wet. You’re extra pretty looking at him like he’s a conquering hero who’s saved you from certain death – which he supposes he is.

You cling to his arm, pulling yourself up, burying your face in his chest as your hands cling to him like you’ve been lost and he’s the first familiar thing you’ve seen in months. Your tears soak his kimono, but . . . he finds himself not really minding, as big, lean hands pet you gently on the back.

“It’s alright now,” he soothes you, murmuring low. “Your husband has you.”

“Please, please, ‘m so sorry--” You’re mumbling into him, whimpering, your shoulders shaking. “Please never m-make me, again--”

“Shhh,” he continues, gently beginning to move towards his chambers. You cling to him, adrift in a sea of your own fears. “It’s better now. You’ll be better now, won’t you?”

He receives a fierce nod for that, your fingers twisting into his clothing. It’s nice, having you so wrapped around him; seeing him as the strong protector that he knows he is but you needed reminding of. You’re still mewling little pleas into him even as he unlocks the door to his bedroom and gently pushes you in. Letting go of him even for a moment seems to cause you physical pain--

Good. You should feel like that. You should feel incomplete without him at your side. Naoya rewards you with a rare, soft smile.

“You know why you had to be punished like that, don’t you?” He purrs to you, petting your hair and carefully drawing back so he can look at your face. Your lips are all swollen from crying and biting; he thinks you’ve never looked quite so kissable as you do right now.

“Yes,” you nod, fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’ll do a-anything, I promise. I . . .” You swallow, your eyes filling with tears again. Naoya has been hard since the moment he heard you call out his name from inside the training room, your voice filled with choked tears, and watching them well up again does nothing for the stricture against the fabric. “I needed you.”

“And I saved you,” he says, arching an elegant brow – to which you nod again, and your hands drift towards him like you’re aimless without him in front of you to serve. “I’ll protect you, darling, as long as you learn your place.”

“I will!” That’s said with such conviction that he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I will. N-Naoya . . .” Your voice trembles a little. “’m willing to do anything for you. J-just please . . . not again.”

“Shh,” he reaches out and deigns to touch you, to gently and soothingly rub his thumb over your cheek, where the tears have dried. “If you’re really going to be so good for me, I won’t have to, will I?” You stumble forward onto your knees and Naoya’s brows shoot up in surprise as your hands tug at his hakama.

“Please let me show you how grateful I am,” you whisper, your eyes wide and bright and desperate. “Naoya, please, please, please--”

Oh, there’s something so gratifying about you like this, begging to suck his cock. It stirs between his thighs again, reminding him that he’s painfully stiff; and you are here, a willing mouth, scared out of your skull and desperate to please him. He’s smirking at you but you do not register it as such; all you see is the smile of your rescuer.

Your protector.

Your husband.

“Say what you want to do to me, darling,” he tells you, keeping his voice as sweet as he can make it. “You’re a big girl. You can use your words. What do you want to do, to show me how grateful you are that I saved your paltry life?”

You’re pouting; your mouth is sweet, pretty. He wants to pry your jaw open and fuck the back of your throat, and his body roars as your fingers tug on the hakama again and your meek, soft voice whispers;

“Please let me suck your cock.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” he coos to you, leaning forward to brush a finger over your lower lip. “Not befitting of a woman of your station. I suppose that means that it’s up to me to keep you quiet, hmm?”

You obediently open it, letting his finger gently rest on your tongue for a moment.

Desperate to please, your mouth closes about it, your tongue gently swiping over the pad, your cheeks hollowing a little as you suck on the digit inside of them. Naoya’s smiling again, the victorious grin of someone who’s gotten exactly what they wanted. He pulls his finger out and thrusts back in with two, whispering to you;

“Do you think you deserve my cock, after what you put me through today?”

You shake your head, but you don’t stop lavishing attention on the fingers in your mouth, a string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he presses his third finger inside of it. So warm, and wet. He needs his cock to be inside of you or he thinks he may embarrass himself.

The fingers are pulled out, wiped on the hakama fabric, before he says (the carefully adopted tone almost disinterested);

“Take them off, then. Don’t make your promises empty words. I wouldn’t appreciate such thoughtlessness in a wife.”

You’re eager, stripping off his clothes. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock; elegant, flushed, hard and straining with a light upwards curve that he knows will hit you in the right place at the back of your throat to make you gag.

“Wait,” he says, as you lean in to bring him to your lips. “What do you say, darling?”

Your eyes (still brimming with tears, he notices – and fuck, he loves how you look teary-eyed and pouting. He has to make you cry more often) meet his, but the look in yours is worshipful so he doesn’t chide you for having the insolence to meet his gaze directly.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For saving me. For letting me suck your cock. For everything.”

Naoya is smiling.

“Good girl,” he says, placidly, as you place a delicate kiss on the head of his cock and slowly envelope it in the warmth of your mouth. “Very good.”

[chanceofwhat]

Alright (cracks knuckles) time to look up what flowers mean.

Adaine: Purple Crocus. Dignity, success, cheer, youthful joy, spirit, grace, positivity, optimism, growth, and elegance. This flower represents “the start of a new cycle.” She’s so successful and impressive and graceful, and she just happens to be the elven oracle? She’s the epitome of hope and beginnings, she can literally see the future, and she’s incredibly powerful and brings so much good on the world. He wants to manifest happiness for her in any way he can.

Fabian: Tiger Lily. Prosperity, luck, strength, wealth, pride, success, heart, resilience, and courage. This flower is a dare. This is Fabian to a T, and not just because he’s rich— Fabian is the resilient and strong one, he’s full of pride and confidence but also genuineness and courage in tough spots. He’s maximum legend, who else could have a powerful enough image for this flower?

Kristen: Petunia. Comfort, passion, hope, spiritual purity, beginnings, resentment, anger, and creativity. This is kind of the vibes flower. Not only is Kristen creative and hopeful and passionate (and vengeful and spiteful), but of course she’d have the flower for good beginnings, she creates gods! The spiritual yet moody nature of this flower makes it perfect for her. Cassandra loves it too.

Fig: Red Hyacinth. Beauty, commitment, pride, power, joy, forgiveness, sincerity, playfulness, and lightheartedness. It’s literally the playful flower. Who’s more playful than Fig, in personality and literally, with her bass? She commits, not to “going to class” or things like that, but to her strong, powerful energy, and to her friends. She’s just chilling, and also doing the most batshit crazy stuff you’ve ever seen, and she’s perfect for it.

Riz: Purple Iris. Wisdom, courage, respect, chivalry, admiration, trust, heartfelt connection, valor, nobility, and reverence. This is a symbol of royalty, and the flower that guides people to heaven. Obviously this is Riz, and Gorgug really must be the greatest wizard of all time because he attributed this flower to Riz before Riz even really was respected! This is our genius, our sleuth, and also one of the most courageous people in existence, and Gorgug can’t fathom why people look down on him (figuratively) for being a goblin. Gorgug treats this as his personal little medal of valor for Riz, the courageous ball. It’s also clever because the iris is part of your eye and he’s always looking for clues and… just me? Ok.

Riz eventually cracked the case on this whole flowers-symbolism thing, noticing the patterns and deciding to do some research and was kind of confused by his at first. He cried a little when he realized how much Gorgug, as a burgeoning intellectual, low key high key respects him. He brought this flower information to the others one day, giving them the basic overview on what he could find for their flowers’ meanings.

In a wave of sentiment, they decided to do something back for Gorgug, to show him he’s special and appreciated too. After a lot of reading and searching and confusion and secretly calling Wilma & Digma on the phone, they decide on yellow alstroemerias. They each procure one and, the next day, swarm him with them. He realizes what’s going on and cries, and then they spend a whole lovely day together talking about flowers, Gorgug explaining all his choices to the utmost detail, inadvertently showing off just how much care and intention went into all this. Now flowers are just a little bit special to everyone, and all of the bad kids have a favorite flower: crocuses, tiger lilies, petunias, hyacinths, irises, and alstroemerias.

Boy, I got a little carried away there, hm? Anywho, here are the flowers: (click on em, they’ve all got the names on there)

More Bad Kids headcanons because I’ve caught up, and I have feelings. Long post here.

-Everything Gorgug makes for the party, weapons, accessories, ect, has flowers on it. Each member has its own flower (I don’t know flower symbolism, sorry), and it’s stylised based on what he made for them.

-The entire party hates porcelain dolls. And masks. Anything to do with Baron. Adine used to have a collection of porcelain dolls, but they were in the attic when her house burnt down. She’s a little grateful for that now.

-For his birthday, the party put together a clues board for Riz that held everything they liked about him. Pictures of them hanging out, lists of affirmations and assurances, all connected by Riz’s string catagories. He keeps it in his office, in front of where the broken mirror was.

-Fabian will employ anyone to help with his dance practise. Usually Gorgug, since he’s big and can spot Fabian easily, but Kristin has also helped since she got buff. The others cheer him on, just like they do in bloodrush.

-Fig is the most encouraging of everyone’s self-expression. She is indeterminate of who she grabs to practise painting nails, and Fabian learns eyeliner from her. She is also great at knowing when someone is flirting with her friends, but can’t figure it out for herself.

-Kristin has a bunch of stuff from different religions, from the time she was researching different practises. Some she gives away to other worships who use them, but some she keeps either for sentiment or because she uses them with Cassandra.

[softluci]

aggressive affection, i think

(part two here!)

[ @yourlocalsinnamonroll​ (hi!) sent me an ask to do more gen z headcanons and i started working on something for her, except it isn’t actually a set of headcanons, but rather a really long...one-shot? but anyway, i thought of actual headcanons that i can share now, so i can return to my ROOTS hopefully this will do in the meantime. ]

i’m not sure if this is something unique to younger people, but i am one hundred percent sure that younger people do it a lot, just going off of the behavior of my friends and i. (i’m gonna tell you now that this isn’t entirely sfw, so minors dni please and thank u)

but i’ve found that it’s pretty common for friends to be, like, aggressively affectionate with one another, for lack of a better phrase. if not aggressively affectionate, then just really flirtatious, often for no reason, and it is still meant entirely in a platonic sense. some examples of this that i have experienced include, but are not limited to:

“i’m gonna eat you,” “do u wanna make out,” “just remember, no matter WHAT happens, i will ALWAYS wanna make out with you,”  “i have literally wanted to fuck all of you at some point,” “let’s have sex,” “stfu before i kiss you,” [points to lap] “is this seat taken?” “every day i’m like, ‘wow, [name] is so cool, we should make out,’” and so on and so forth.

so you can imagine the fun i’m about to have.

lucifer

“blindsided,” does not even begin to describe what you’ve done to this man. while his recovery time was quick, he was still so, so confused. 

all he said was, “you look nice today,” why did you threaten to kiss him? was that even a threat? 

he doesn’t know because you said, “stop before you get kissed on the mouth,” but it doesn’t matter because you failed to consider that he is obsessed with you in dire need of a kiss on the mouth, and you, silly thing that you are, just provided conditions under which he can get one. 

that said, have fun trying to explain to this man that you were joking while he’s holding you against him with the most smug look on his dumb little face. if you don’t wanna kiss him, okay, but by the time he feels like letting you go, your face is gonna be scorching and you will have properly learned not to do that again. unless you enjoyed yourself, in which case—

by the way, if you believe in a higher power, you had better pray he doesn’t do this to you because now that you’ve planted the idea in his villainous little brain, he’s just biding his time. so the next time you compliment him innocently, and he says, “be quiet before i kiss you,” like the monster he is, assert your dominance by kissing him first, it’s the only way to maintain your dignity. 

mammon

why would you do that to him. he is literally in love with you, you can’t be doing this. he knows he’s an attractive person, but you can’t tell him that, and you especially can’t do it by flirting with him, it’s embarrassingly disarming. especially since he was going to make fun of you once he saw that you were looking at the issue of majolish with him on the cover. he had a plan and everything, and you ruined it. he was gonna say something dumb cool, after which you would be embarrassed , and he would laugh. 

but then you looked at him, said, “i’m gonna eat you,” and his entire plan was thwarted. now you have to stand there and watch him struggle to form a sentence while his face gets red. you should take this opportunity to bite him, give him a little nom on the shoulder or something, just to razz him. it’ll be great, i promise. 

luckily, he can’t even think about doing this to you without having to lie down, so you should be safe—unless, of course, he catches both you and himself by surprise. so if you get nommed on, you had it coming. 

levi 

you menace. you absolute villain. you’re laughing. 

levi was about to go into a match he was nervous about, and then you said, “it’s okay, no matter what happens, i will always wanna make out with you,” and then he dropped his controller and blacked out, and you’re laughing. 

you’re terrible. absolutely awful. acquaint yourself with shame while you blow cool air into his face and shake him awake. 

when he does wake up, and he reminds you that he’s the avatar of envy, do nawt be surprised. 

try to explain to him that you were kidding and let it slip that you say these types of things to everyone and you’re getting a tail around your waist. no matter how much he might stutter while he makes his point, the fact remains that he’s the only one you’re allowed to say these things to now. you can do it to the others while he’s not around if you feel so inclined, but he’s going to find out eventually, so good luck explaining yourself while he doesn’t keep his tail still when he uses it to hold you in place. 

your only saving grace here is that he is physically incapable of doing it to you, but, you know. that probably gets overridden by how possessive he’s gonna get.

satan

you’re deranged. or just really confident. or a fool. it doesn’t matter, you fucked up. he said a normal thing, and then you threw him for a loop. 

you were nervous about an exam the next day, he said, “you’re a capable person, you have nothing to be worried about.” 

and then you, evidently forgetting that he is not one of your human friends, said, “flattery will get you made out with,” and tried to walk away. 

first of all, how was that flattery? he was stating a fact. second of all, who said he didn’t wanna make out with you🤨. he never said that, you are making assumptions about him and his character. 

anyway, he has no idea where you think you’re going, but you didn’t make it very far before he caught up to you anyway. 

when he repeats what you said back to you in the form of a question, with that deceptively polite look on his face, know that he is being rhetorical. do not bother trying to explain yourself, it’ll be difficult to do so in a convincing manner while he’s backing you up to the nearest wall. do not be surprised when he takes this opportunity to blindside you with praise, directly into your ear, with that fatally smooth voice of his. and do NAWT be surprised when he pulls back and says, “why am i not being made out with?” with a dumb little smile. it brings him a lot of joy to see you squirm.

you don’t even have a saving grace here. this man is ruthless, he’s gonna do this to you literally whenever he wants, and he won’t even let you look away, let alone run away, so find joy in the monster you have created. 

asmo

listen. unless you are genuinely empty headed, there is absolutely no way you did this on accident. 

he wasn’t even doing anything out of character either, it was the middle of self-care night, he was putting moisturizer on your face for you, and he went, “you’re even cuter up close,” which is a normal, tame thing for him to say.

so unless you just have uncontrollable knee-jerk reactions, no way did you say, “so make out with me then,” to this man, by accident.

you’re lucky he has some knowledge of the fact that you sometimes say things that aren’t smart, so he didn’t just immediately jump on you; however, you are by no means in the Clear. 

you blinked and he was nose to nose with you and basically in your lap. now you have to deal with his wandering hands while you try and explain yourself—that is, if you can even overcome how flustered you are, which you probably can’t. luckily, he knows you probably didn’t mean it, but he’s still asmo, so he takes it upon himself to be respectfully heinous like the gentleman he is.

so when he somehow manages to get even closer to you and says, “honey, you should really get a handle on those impulses of yours, unless you plan on following through,” like the bastard he is, know that from that point forward, whatever happens is on you. 

here is another man with whom you have no saving grace; now that you’ve given him the idea that he can be more explicit with you,,, well.

beel

you’re a heathen. why would you do something like this. well, you know what, maybe you aren’t that much of a heathen, considering that you did bake cookies for him. that was really sweet of you, so he thanked you and complimented your skill, like a regular person.

so why, exactly, did you say, “i only accept thanks in the form of kisses, preferably with tongue,” ? something is genuinely not right with you. 

now you have this man standing there, confused and red in the face. he’s trying to do the math, and nothing is adding up. like, it’s definitely doable, he can definitely do that, but, like, why would you make this request so suddenly?

this is probably the only instance in which you can coherently say, “i was kidding, you don’t actually have to do that,” and it almost doesn’t work. 

you absolutely should not have been leaning against the counter because now he’s standing in front of you, and you have nowhere to run. 

however, the thing about beel is that he is someone who flusters people without meaning to, so he has no idea of the effect that his, “are you sure?” has on you. 

luckily, you’re still mostly coherent because you know that beel isn’t heinous like his brothers, so you manage to tell him that he doesn’t have to kiss you if he doesn’t want to because you were kidding. 

you have every right to be surprised when, all of a sudden, you’re sitting on the counter, and he says, “why do you think i don’t want to?” 

do you have a saving grace with this man? kind of. he would never say what you said or something similar, but the next time he compliments you and you choose to be normal and say, “thank you,” he’s gonna ask if he should kiss you, so try not to collapse.

belphie

now. he isn’t the Worst Person you could’ve done this with. but by god you are out of your mind.

your first mistake was choosing to lie down next to him, not because you had plans to be a menace, but because he is always a menace and has a thing for reminding you, which he can do more easily when you’re in proximity to him. 

so when he said, out of nowhere, “are you ticklish?” you should’ve just rolled away, which wouldn’t have worked, but it would have been less chaotic then saying, “you are legally required to make out with me before you try and find out.” 

you said it so casually that he was almost stunned into staying still, but his recovery time was excellent.

the next thing you knew, you were laying underneath a very smug, very menacing man, who seemed entirely too prepared to listen to what you had to say for once. 

“legally?”

okay, so, maybe you should’ve chosen your words more carefully, but he was seconds away from tickling you, so you didn’t exactly have time to defend yourself. you can never backtrack with belphie anyway, so it makes sense that you went headlong into your claim, telling him that yes, this is, in fact, the law of the land. 

“i was never one to pay attention to the law, but since you’re being so insistent, i guess i don’t really have a choice—”

leave it to him to pretend like you’re a burden as if he isn’t literally head over heels in love with you like everyone else fond of you. bastard. 

there is absolutely nothing to save you from this man. he isn’t tactful enough to wait for an opportunity to do this to you, like satan or lucifer, so expect to be Just Sitting There when he tells you that you’re required to make out with him right this instant—it’s the law. 

[selinakidreams]

here’s a lil something for baku (and you) to enjoy on his birthday <3 all apart of the bakugo birthday bash hosted by the lovely @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe @ramen-rambles ! !! thank you guys so much for letting me be apart of this <3

pairing: (established relationship) QUIRKLESS AU kiribaku x fem! reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: alcohol consumption but sober sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of throat fucking, mentions of spit roasting, lots of mentions of spit <3 (and exactly one spit into a mouth), very light degradation, praise

a/n: this is my first time writing with three characters kdjdkdk it’s way out of my comfort zone and I only had 6 days to write it,, but I did it!! trust me I wanted to write more but I actually wanted to make it to baku’s birthday so !! don’t be mad at the endiiiiiiinnnngggg <3

The jazz wafted throughout the empty bar; your silk dress falling from the edge of your seat. It has been a slow night for the bar. You leaned your head into your hand, elbow keeping you sturdy as you swirled the drink around it’s glass cup. 

Your friend's party became a bit too feral for your taste, but you kept your word and stayed as long as you could for the sole purpose of seeing her smile, but then they showed up and you saw yourself out. 

The dim lighting made your eyes droopy with no action to keep your brain going, so you take another swig of your drink before swiveling in your chair to face the other side of the bar. 

Floor to ceiling windows greeted you, giving you the perfect overlook to the twinkling city lights below. It was incredible how your friend could afford a room in this hotel for her party. 

You noticed a movement in the corner of your eye; someone had entered the bar. 

You turn back to face all the expensive drinks displayed on the shelf, the perfect excuse to catch a quick glimpse at him. The contrast of his hair against everything else in the room almost made your eyes pop out of their sockets. 

Platinum blonde hair tufted out like an explosion, a satin red shirt that danced with the warm light of the room, black slacks and from what you could tell, some expensive ass shoes. Too dressy just to be here for some drinks.

Wanting to see more but not willing to fully stare at the man, you signed and waited until it seemed like he got settled on the bar stool before saying, “Is it your party that’s on this floor? It seems like quite the... experience.” 

Your voice came out smooth and velvety to bakugo’s ears, not that he would ever admit it. He scoffed before taking a second to look at the stranger who was daring to talk to him. His first thought settled in his mind and accepted it, almost prompting for silence- waiting to see if you would push to talk to him again.

From what you could tell, he was scanning you up and down. He opened his mouth to say something; his pink plush lips looking extremely inviting as they began to mouth something.

No sound came out for the next few seconds, showing he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He closed his mouth and took out a phone from his pocket, the screen illuminated his face as he began typing something out. 

With this newfound light, his features became even more alluring- which couldn't be said for most people. Perfect porcelain skin, his profile pointed and devilishly handsome.

He’s well aware that he still held your attention, so when he slid his phone back in his pocket, he responded to your previous question, “yea, that’s the one. I’d rather stick it out instead of hearing them complain about me not going to my own party  for the rest of the week.”

By the end of his sentence, he had a glass of something amber in his hand that seemed to look a lot like whiskey. He didn’t spare you another glance but you could tell he expected to hear a response.

You hummed, slightly nodding your head, “The party I had to go to is upstairs and it’s… a lot. They're all just talking about expensive this and designer that and I couldn't listen to another word so I had to get out of there…” you trailed off at his silence. Noting that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, you introduced yourself in hopes to continue interacting with him. You knew his type, and you knew in some way, he was going to surprise you. 

“Bakugo Katsuki.” He said in turn.

You slowly nodded before posing another question.

“So Bakugo, not really a party goer?” You attempt to ask, only to get a huff in return.

“not one for small talk either, i see?” You add at the end.

Another few quiet moments go by before he responds

“If I was a party goer, I’d be at my own party wouldn’t I?” He quipped back and your eyebrows shot up as you raised your hands in defense. 

“Well hey, I dunno ! For all I know you could have had a really rough night and this specific bar could be your saving grace. Could possibly use this night to drown your sorrows away behind a whole bottle of what… whiskey?” You say, ushering to his drink before turning to face your own, knowing he probably didn’t like being pegged as such.

“but you wouldn’t do that. You’re a strong man who knows what to do when things get bad, huh?” you continue, sprinkling praise to his dignity. He seemed like the type to prioritize that.

He didn’t do or say much in terms of a response but a small smile grew on your lips seeing how his body suddenly released a bit of the physical tension that was winding up.

You moved a few seats closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he hadn’t said anything. 

“So-'' Interrupted before you could continue the line of questions, Bakugo surprised you by asking, “you think you’re better than your friends? Leaving them and comin’ here to drink alone?” his voice coming out gruff and low.

“No, not one bit. I was the one who planned the whole thing for my friend, it’s just unfortunate that she had to invite all those people who aren’t all that nice to her. I can’t stand them. I’ve told them off more than I can count, but they just brush me off. A group of bullies is one thing, but a group of people who pretends to be friends with you then talks behind your back is another.`` 

Bakugo was quiet, not by astonishment or anger; he seemed to be expressionless as he piped up, “fake people are some of the uglies nobodies out there.”

You turn to look at him before sipping your drink and moving a seat closer. This time Bakugo glanced your way but continued to stay silent. 

“You ever beat someone up?” you ask, resting your chin on your palm, tilting your head towards him.

Your second surprise that night, he chuckled. It was soft, the complete opposite to the demeanor he'd been holding.

“Why? You want me to go in there and beat a few of those assholes up?” his eyes were relaxed by this point, no longer sharp and heavily guarded.

“Only because they don't believe I'm intimidating enough.”

“Maybe because you're not.”

You fake gasped, bringing your other hand up to your heart. “Excuse me sir but I'll have you know that I can be quite the fighter.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hadn’t realized you got so close to Bakugo until you heard the footsteps nearing you both.  When a handsome voice called out bakugo’s name, you slightly jumped. Putting as much space between the two of you as possible, you looked to the source of the voice. 

Handsome would be an understatement. 

With red bangs that framed his sharp toothy smile perfectly and the rest of his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, this man looked a bit taller than Bakugo with a much warmer aura... but radiated the same type of... manliness. 

“Bakugo, I just got your text- Mina has been dragging me everywhere to make sure your party’s going well. Is this her?” the handsome man asked, a slight indistinguishable gleam flashes in his eye when he looks over to you.

“Yeah, ‘nd i wanna leave now.” he almost pouted before looking over to you. 

“You comin’?” 

Your gaze snapped between the two men, only slightly putting two and two together. 

Red hair spoke up, “He probably didn't explain it well but I'm his boyfriend, Kirishima Eijiro!” he held out his hand cheerfully, listening to your introduction. 

“Not to sound too forward or to make you uncomfortable... but do you wanna come home with us? He texted me earlier saying that there was this hottie in a silk dress and… well…” he trailed off licking his bottom lip as his wandering gaze slowly shifted hungrier, “he wasn't kidding.”

There was a lot happening at once but all that you were thinking was that these two hot men wanted you, and the happy buzz that was coursing through your system couldnt object the offer, so with a quick nod of your head, you were handed a water bottle, guided off of the stool, and into the back of the next taxi they could hail. 

The ride was filled with wandering hands and mischievous looks. Kirishima was whispering naughty promises in Bakugo’s ear that you couldn't quite hear, while your attention focused on the big palm that was making its way to the most heated part of your body. The quick inhales that the blonde took went straight to your core, making you incredibly excited for what the night had to offer. 

As soon as the door swung open, lips were on lips and clothes were coming off. The rush to get to the bedroom was heated and messy but once you all entered the room, there was an intense shift that even you couldn't predict. 

Kirishima spoke first, “So what does my birthday boy want? Does he want to fuck or be fucked?”

With a suck at his teeth, Bakugo knew if he didn’t give an answer soon he’d be met with-

“Better hurry up handsome, or I might just choose for you…” Kirishima hummed, bright crimson eyes hopping on over to meet your gaze, “better yet…”

He was by your side in mere seconds. His huge figure towering over yours, you almost flinched when his bulky fingers grazed up your arm. 

“What if you chose for him?” He purred in your ear loud enough so Bakugo’s ruby eyes found yours. Your name rolled off the red-haired man’s tongue like sweet honey, “go ahead, what do you think he would want more?”

Your gaze flickered between them, you couldn’t tell one or the other’s preferences but if they wanted to use you, they could. 

“How about… Eijiro… you could fuck my throat and Katsuki… could fuck whatever hole he wants?” You ask, the question raising an octave out of uncertainty. 

Kirishima raises an eyebrow towards the man of the hour, slightly amused and completely aroused. 

Bakugo is already smirking,“Atta girl, knows exactly what to say.” 

Kirishima starts to kiss your neck as Bakugo stands in front of you, occupying your lips for the first time that night. 

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he seemed to have rubbed on his boyfriend's bulge before reaching for the zipper of your dress. In turn, the feeling of the Eijiro’s bulge humped your back. 

Whether it was your dress hitting the floor or Katsuki’s tongue slipping in your mouth didn't matter, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, causing Kirishima to chuckle and whisper, “get on the bed, princess.” while Bakugo pulls away from you, a string of spit keeps you connected.

With your gaze lustly hazy, you dreamily make your way to the bed, but not without a little show. Before splaying yourself out on the mattress, you stretch out- almost in the child's pose of yoga except you add a deep arch in your back for the sole purpose of showing off your pretty seamless thong. 

As you reposition yourself, you glance over to the side to find that both men are now only in restricting briefs, eyes glued to your figure, both palming themselves over their boxers. 

Eyes half massed and back flat on the bed, you begin to pout, feeling almost bare without anyone’s hands on you. 

As if on cue, they began to make their way over to you, looking oh so hungry. 

You immediately sat up and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, pulsating at the prospect of having two seemingly thick dicks at once… but they were still in their boxers. Why?

“Ya have to ask nicely in order to get a treat, you ungrateful slut.” Bakugo growled before taking your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks with his fingers. 

“Better yet, beg.” he said with a coldness that heated your core and had your eyes going wide.

Whimpering when he let go, you kept your innocent doe eyes as two sets of starved eyes stared down at you.

“W-wanna get fucked, please. Wanna feel both of you everywhere…” you say as you reach both hands out to palm the silhouette of their bulges. “Please…?” 

There was a “christ” that was muttered out before you were pushed back on the bed by Bakugo, then kirishima manhandled you so that your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, your head mostly hanging off.

Even in the midst of the binding tension, Kirishima didn't hesitate to instruct Bakugo to put a pillow under your hips, the blonde eagerly following through with the demand. 

“How’dyou want Katsuki to prep you, baby? He’s skillful in every sense but he really enjoys using his mouth.” 

The bed shifted and before you could string a thought together, you looked down and lost all ability to think. The sight in front of you was downright sinful. A smirk was pulling at the left corner of his lips as he sunk closer to your clothed pussy, his red gaze now a deep wicked crimson as he watched for your reaction.

You didn't have much time to analyze before a thick hand laced through your hair and ushered your view back to the red head’s now exposed cock. You gulped. 

Not incredibly long, a moderate size but with a juicy girth, Kirishima’s cock had a thick vein trailing up his underside. 

If you could make heart eyes, you're sure that you'd be doing them by now. 

Focused on paying attention to his pretty pink weeping tip, you felt your panties being pushed to the side. As tempting as it was to look down, you kept your sights set on the task at hand. Licking and kissing his cock, mixing your saliva with his precum, you earned a guttural groan from the big man above you, encouraging you to do more, please him more- until a warm muscle was met with your sopping core, causing a high gasp of a vibration to hit Kirishima’s head. 

Your mind stopped reeling for a second- it stopped doing anything to be frank. Your hips mindlessly thrust up in attempts to get more of Bakugo’s mouth. He chuckled against you in response.  

Moans bounced off the walls the deeper you guys got with each arousing movement; slurps coming from your’s and Bakugo’s mouth were the loudest noises in the room- that was until you moved down to pay the much needed attention to Kirishima’s balls. He couldn't seem to take it when you began sucking and fondling, moaning about how full he looked. He let out an obscene whine that you couldn’t believe came from him but when Bakugo pulled his lips from around your clit, you followed the noise with a similar one.

Unlike Kirishima who had stayed still, you tried to push Bakugo’s face back down out of lack of patience. Somewhere along the lines, the dominating rolls have switched, but you couldn't really find it in yourself to trace back to when that happened.

 “You really are a fighter, huh?” he chuckled out before adding, “quit whining shitty hair, you’ll get to fuck her throat once I’m done eating.” 

And with that, he dove right back in, causing you to clench around nothing yet and arch your back to get impossibly closer. In turn, your gaze caught the big desperate pleading eyes looking down at you, nearly begging you to do something... 

You were so dizzy with pleasure that you murmured  a mindless, “I didn't forget about you Eijiro.”,  before using your hands to guide his cockhead back into your mouth to coat it in your saliva then pulling off and spreading it down the rest of his length. He bit his lip and let out a cute “mmph!”, which went straight to your abused core. Wanting to hear more, you began to pump his shaft with your messy fist. 

With everything going on, you didn’t realize how built up you were. At an astounding rate, your climax crashed over you, making you shriek against Kirishima's dick as you attempted to cage Bakugo’s head in with your thighs. What pushed you even further was the death grip Katsuki had on your thighs and the sinful sounds he was making while lapping away at your juices. 

Your hands shot from Kirishima’s cock down to grip Bakugo’s hair, freeing your mouth to pant out breathy praises and a whiney “Katsuki!”.

“Fuck,” Bakugo groaned as he came up from your pelvis once you’ve relaxed, whipping your juices from off of his chin with the back of his hand. 

“Kiri, c’mere, you gotta try this,” he said before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss over your slumped body. Watching their lips meet and seeing Kirishima’s tongue slip into his lover’s mouth sent a dull throb to your core, even moreso when Kirishima sighed into the kiss while his cock twitched upwards, close to your face. 

When they pulled away, Bakugo gave one more little peck to Kirishima before looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You mentally gather yourself and sit up, already ready to be told what to do next.

“Open up, sweet cheeks.”

You did as you were told with your tongue out on display, unintentionally closing your eyes as a sweet little “aaah” came out on instinct. 

The spit hit your tongue dead on and you had to refrain from automatically swallowing. 

A low whisper about how good you were to Katsuki pulled him out of his daze, his eyes darting away from the new wetness on your tongue. 

“Swallow, slut.” and so you did.

“You're right Kiri, she is such a good girl…  Are you ready to get fucked stupid as your prize?” was the last thing you remember before both of them did exactly that.

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

Is it okay if I request? You don't have to if you're not up to it. No pressure 😊🧡🦊

I'm trying to make a fic with my OCs, but I keep reusing the same idea and it kinda,,, lost its spice :(((

Sorry for the ramble. It was uncalled for. Anyways, do you have any prompts for person A, who's VERY allergic to flowers but doesn't want anyone to see/hear them sneeze because they were born wealthy and sneezing is a sign of weakness and it has been ingrained in them that they should be proper at all times. They're also self-concious of their sneeze because it's soft sounding and kittenish and has been the butt of some jokes. Then here comes person B, who has a tendancy to tease them for everything... person A's allergies start acting up and OH JESUS... they absolutely cannot sneeze in front of B because their teasing would be merciless.

Don’t you worry…I understand rambling when something of such magnitude is on your mind.

I don’t believe I have anything in my rolodex so specific…but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a little something to think about:

A and B are nobles from two very different families. A’s family is a strict, sober affair, more like porcelain dolls than people. B’s, on the other hand, is more carefree, always willing to learn - and always willing to laugh.

The pair are in the garden, and B is chattering on about plant species while sitting with A on a stone bench. A has always been quiet, but even B notices their silence.

“Oh, you always look so stern! On occasion I feel like patting your arm to be completely sure you’re a person and not a painting.”

A sniffs shortly. “I suppose.”

“Do I really warrant one of your uninterested teatime phrases?” B exclaims. “Am I such horrible company?”

“Ndo…”

A sniffs again, and puts a finger under their nose. They close their eyes, and their nostrils snarl. B chuckles.

“Now you really do look like a painting. Some Renaissance romantic piece - perhaps a lover deep in thought?”

B bumps his shoulder against A’s, but they get no response.

“Oh, come now, A…”

“Just…a bit…” A murmurs, then goes silent again.

Suddenly, with a gasp between clenched teeth, A reels backwards, the back of their hand pressed firmly against their nostrils.

“H-HIH…!”

For a moment, A freezes, only their nostrils quivering with anticipation. But the silence was not kept for long.

“hhh’chu! hi…hiii’tchu! chu!”

As forceful as the build-up was, A let out sneeze after kittenish sneeze, each one more high-pitched than the last. B began to laugh, patting their friend on the back.

“I suppose the load was louder than the shot, eh?” they teased. “What a sneeze! I haven’t such a sound since my nephew missed his flute lessons!”

A pulled out their handkerchief, trying to bring a bit of grace to a graceless situation. B continued the joke.

“Why, my aunt could use you to call her birds from their roosts, or perhaps to announce tea-”

A lifted their head from the handkerchief, their once pale face scarlet.

“HOLD YOUR TONGUE!” they roared, shaking from both rage and the damp spring air.

B was taken aback, and shrunk into their seat. They had never seen A so angry before.

“I-I am sorry, A-”

“If it weren’t for your oh so precious flowers,” they spat back, “my dignity would have remained intact. I suppose this is all a fantastic joke to you!”

B laughed nervously. “My friend, everything is a joke to me. Life is so very dull if you take everything so seriously.”

A huffed, leaning back into their handkerchief.

“In fact,” B continued, “I quite like your sneeze.”

A sniffled. “Like it? How could you like sobething so ridiculous?”

“Oh, it isn’t ridiculous! You have a very…er, proper sneeze. It fits the nose it came from, I suppose.”

“Id sounds like a kit’s mew.”

“Well,” B said, thinking, “would you rather have a loud, offensive sneeze? One that halts all conversation?”

A sniffed once, and furrowed their brow.

“I subbose dot.”

B took out their own handkerchief between two fingers, and offered it to A.

“You have a wonderful sneeze, A. Or, at least as wonderful as a sneeze can be.”

A looked at the handkerchief, then slowly accepted it.

“I’b glad you think so, for I…think I bay…hih…”

“Hm?”

“hhh’tchu! htch’chu! tchu! hhhi’tchiew!”

“Oh yes, right. Perhaps we should go inside.”

A put a hand on B’s shoulder, the other firmly against their nose.

“I…I would quide like to stay. Id’s been some tibe since I could….hiiii’tchu!…sdeeze freely.”

Now it was B’s turn to be scarlet.

“O-oh! Yes, of course.”

[scarletwidowaf]

Yelena Belova x reader “fake dating” to actual!!!!

Plssssss :) 🥲💛

Moral Of The Story

Yelena Belova x female reader, scarlewidow mentioned.

A/N: might be messy, might be cheesy, but I truly don't care because I live for this chaotic due.

warning: stupidity maybe

words: 2000ish- probably more. 

masterlist

You don't know how but somehow training with Yelena always ended up with you being pinned down on the training mat.

"Fuck" you cursed frustrated as she pinned you down for the 3d time in a row. Yelena laughed before she stood up and held out her hand for you to take.

"I let you win!" You said as she pulled you up.

"Sure you did" she joked.

"Seriously. I let you stomp on my dignity because I have a favor to ask!" you said back, a goofy grin playing on your lips as you passed her one of the water bottles.

"Now, that's gonna be interesting" she said as she sat on the floor, her back facing the wall. She gratefully took the bottle from your hand as she waited for you to talk.

"be my girlfriend" you said. The two of you were always comically stupid, so of course that you said that at the same moment she was taking a gulp from her bottle and of course she choked- and of course you laughed.

"I'm Sorry" the blonde glared at you.

"You're not" she responded in between coughing.

After a few moments, she finally stopped coughing and your laugh dyed out as well.

"You're right. I wasn't." You laughed again and she shoved you playfully.

"So, did you seriously just asked me to be your girlfriend?" She asked. Her lips forming her famous-troubled-maker cheeky grin.

"Well.. my fake girlfriend to be exact" you corrected yourself and she laughed again.

"You know you could've started with that, right?"

"And what's the fun in that?"

You smirked at her, knowing full well she found the random question amusing.

"So Why me, anyway..? - Wait, Let me guess.. kate and carol said no and you're scared of Wanda?"

"Okay first I'm not scared of Wanda, I'm scared of your sister.. there's a difference. And Second; my parents in town.. and I kinda told them I have a girlfriend.."

"Oh, now that's classic" Yelena, obviously, found the situation hilarious and you couldn't blame her since you found this dumb conversation amusing as well.

"Does it mean you'll do it?" You asked.

"Yeah why not" she responded you raised an eyebrow at her waiting for the catch. With Yelena, there's always a catch or at least a stupid comment.

"Yeah. I want to meet the poor souls who had to deal with your stupidity on a daily basis for the last 20 years..."

And here it is. You thought.

"I will punch you" you threaten her.

"Kinky" she smirked.

"Whatever stupid. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8" you said as you got up from the spot next to her.

"Wear something nice"

_______________________________

The thing about Yelena is that you can never know what to expect. No matter how much time you spent with her, and it was a lot, she somehow still managed to surprise you.

This time was no different. but in her defense, this time the blame is definitely on you. You saw Yelena wear different kinds of outfits, from gear to fancy dresses, yet for some reason, you just didn't expect the other girl to wear a suit, and damn she looked good.

The gray suit fit her perfectly and her long blonde hair was down. She looked painfully beautiful and you couldn't help but stare- and she couldn't help but notice.

She wasn't doing better, on your defense. The blonde checked you out shamelessly before she sent you a smirk "How lucky I am" she joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Very lucky.. and so am i" Yelena smiled at you and held her hand out for you to take.

The ride was short and 15 minutes later you were standing outside the restaurant.

You could feel Yelena's gaze on you as you bit your lip nervously. "It will be alright" she assured you as she interviewed your hands together. "Thank you" you looked at her gratefully "Don't sweat it" she replayed with a soft smile.

That was the thing about Yelena, people always misguided her for someone she wasn't and it always made you mad. God, Of course, she was strong and fierce and brave and absolutely terrifying at times- but She was so much more than that. She was sweet and loyal and caring, and kinda funny (don't tell her) and absolutely beautiful- inside and out. One of your favorite things about her was her shy and sincere smile, which seemed reserved only for you.

"You ready?" She squeezed your hand. you took a small shaky breath before smiling back at her. "As ready as ill ever be"

The restaurant wasn't busy and it didn't take you long to catch your parents in a corner in the far back of the room. Both smiling wide as you walked towards them. Your mother's smile was contagious and you couldn't help but smile back. God, you missed them.

"We've missed you so much" your father said as he hugged you, your mother doing the same.

"I've missed you too" you confessed before tugging Yelena forwards them.

"I'm assuming that's the girlfriend," Your father said and you nodded. God, You were nervous and Yelena could sense it as she reached for your father's hand.

"Yelena." She introduced herself As they shook hands. Her grip firm and her smile dazzling. "I'm Y/D/N and this is my wife Y/M/N" he introduced himself as well.

"Glad to finally meet you. I heard a lot of great things about you" She said with a confident smile.

Both of you could tell the older man was impressed by the blonde and you couldn't help but smile.

"Were happy to finally meet you as well- although we can't say the same since pumpkin over here hasn't said much about you"

Yelena smirked at you as you blushed deeply. You knew she wouldn't let you forget about the nickname. Like, never. "Yeah, it's actually pretty new. It wasn't really planned neither" she explained.

Your mother, God bless her, wasn't the one to shook hands. The moment Yelena was free from your father's grip she found herself in the woman's warm embrace.

"Okay... I think we should start ordering" you said when Yelena was free again. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. The Russian Assassin wasn't used to be hugged and you couldn't help but smile.

The conversation was light, the wine was good and most importantly, your parents loved Yelena. which was understandable considering the fact she was annoyingly charming.

The Yelena that sat next to you with her hand on your lap was the best version the blonde could pull and you felt stupid for being worried in the first place. Yelena led the conversation with politeness, charm, and grace that you never knew she had in her- and your mom seemed impressed. Impressing your dad was even easier- Yelena didn't even have to try, all she had to do was show her intelligence and add some light humor.

After an hour of light and mostly general conversation, amazing food, many embarrassing stories of you on both sides, and 2 glasses of wine, your mom decided to take the conversation into her hands.

"So Yelena. Tell us about yourself."

Oh boy. Now that might be a problem.

"Well... I joined the avengers a few months ago" she explained "Not long after I met your daughter actually," she said simply.

"That's nice, and before that?" The older woman asked.

"I was a freelance.." Yelena gulped. Her hand squeezes yours

"As?" Your mom asked. You knew she didn't try to push Yelena into this corner, she wasn't this kind of person, but she definitely put the blonde on the spot.

"Well... I was involved with the black market and different criminal organizations. Jobs like getting undercover to dig information or well.. getting rid of powerful men in the criminal world.."

Your parent's eyes went wide. Your dad stared at her with wide eyes and your mom cleared her throat.

"I don't do it anymore" she continued. The blonde seemed as nervous as you felt.

"How did you ended up in this line of work? If I may ask?"

"Mom I don't think-" you started and Yelena smiled at you.

"No, It's fine babe.." she said before moving her attention back to your parents "Sometimes life gets you to places where you have to do bad things to survive."

Your dad's expression was unreadable and your mom seemed worried as she glanced at you.

"Yelena and I met when her sister recruited and pulled her out of this life. Yelena is a good person, despite everything she's been through. That's what I love the most about her." You said.

Yelena smiled softly and your parents exchanged looks.

"I'm a different person now" Yelena promised

"We believe you... but I can't help but worry for my daughter, as you can surely understand. What if the people you've been involved with. Try to get to you through Y\N"

Your father asked calmly. Both were taking it better than you expected and you couldn't blame them for being worried.

"Dad. I know it might come as shocking.. but I'm a big girl and I'm well aware of the risk of being involved with Yelena. I need you to trust me when I say that risks, some worse than the mafia, were a part of my life long before we met."

Yelena bit her lip to hold a smile and you interviewed your hands again.

"You're a doctor" your mom argued "I'm a field doctor. Of the avengers." you corrected her. "which means I'm more of capable of taking care of myself."

Your dad nodded softly to your mom before he smiled at you. "You're are.. Don't you?" He laughed. "Mu little pumpkin.." he sIgh and your mother smiled as well

"I just want you to understand that all we want for you is to be safe and happy. And even a blind man can see Yelena gives you that." He sent Yelena a soft smile. Yelena smiled back at him.

"Take care of my daughter.. she's a keeper" your father said firmly.

"She is. And trust me, I will" she promised.

_______________________________

"Well, that went well" you laughed when you got into the passenger seat. Yelena volunteered to drive which was a relief since you were exhausted.

After the two of you got into your seats the blonde sent you a small smile and took something out of her pocket.

"Is that? A bullet..?" You asked confused as you took the copper cylinder from her hand.

Yelena laughed softly.

"It is. It's the same bullet you stopped me from shooting at Natasha"  she confessed.

"I was in such a bad place back then and I blamed Natasha for it. If it weren't for you things would've been very different now" Yelena whispered

"Yeah, both of you were dead since you would've shot her, and Wanda would've probably hunted you down and kill you" you laughed and Yelena's shoulders relaxed.

"Probably" she said. "But with all seriousness... I was aiming a gun at my own sister and instead of pulling your own gun at me, you decided to shield her with your own body and dare me to shoot you as well. Who does that!?."

"You thought I was insane" you laughed.

"I thought you were stupid, putting your life at risk to save someone fucked up like us! someone like me.." She confessed and it downed on you.

No matter what happened or how many good things Yelena had done in her life, she couldn't let go of who she was trained to be. She still blamed herself for all the terrible things she did back at the red room and she constantly tried to get closure by doing the exact opposite- which was probably the reason she killed all these bad men in the first place. But then Natasha came back for her, and Yelena blamed her for leaving her behind to live with the things they did. She felt betrayed and broken, and Natasha's return only made it worse. Like she was just pitting her broken sister.

"All I know is that the Yelena I stood up to and the Natasha I saved that day were not the villains the red room tried to create." You whispered.

"You truly believed that? Even then?" Yelena was crying softly and you cupped her cheek.

"Especially then! I know you don't see it, but I'm here to remind you, you're a good person. Truly. You have a good heart- and I've seen it"

Yelena's cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes red and puffy and her famous crooked smile was plastered on her lips.

"And that's why you love me?"

She was a mess just like back then- when she was aiming a gun at her own sister as who she thought she was and who she truly is were fighting for dominance.

She was tragically beautiful and scared both then and now, yet somehow at the same time, she was more sure and confident than ever before. And I guess that what life is all about. Sometimes, things start to make sense only when everything else doesn't.

"Wasn't it obvious, stupid?" You said and stroked her cheek carefully as she melted into your touch.

Yelena smiled before kissing your hand softly, without breaking eye contact with you.

"You're the stupid one and you know it. Taking an assassin as your dinner date." She joked and you nodded and looked briefly at her lips.

"Well, stupid or not, I still manage to get a kiss at the end of it." Yelena laughed and got closer to you.

"Yeah you did" she whispered and kissed you.

And that was the thing about Yelena. She was good and kind and loyal. And a damn good kisser.

[princessmadafu]

Resting Smirky Face

Let’s start off with a little verse from my BAME gt-granny:

Whatever ignorance men may show,

From none disdainful turn;

For everyone doth something know

Which you have yet to learn.

I've been thinking about this verse since the funeral. So much to learn from! The solemnity and dignity, and then the supposed tantrums about uniform; the grief-ravaged faces of many, and then the delicately-wiped crocodile tears of another -- plus a quick phone call to her PR, hyping up her worth on the US talk-show market; the quiet grace and beauty of your new P&PofWales and their amazing children, and then the Duchess of Resting Smirky McSmirkyface and her husband -- who appears to have a lot of pent up anger and resentment, most of it of his own making but goaded on by Smirkles.

Gt-granny died when I was about 10, so I remember her well, though I'd love to have known her for longer. Her point here was that no-one should ever stop learning, even from someone unlikeable, or that you are merely polite to in public, or otherwise try and avoid by crossing the road because what you'd really really really really like to do is slap the smirk off their face with a stinky piece of haddock.

Smuggsy has provided a lot of people with a lot of learning opportunities. For that, we should be thankful - a bit. A tiny little bit. But have Smuggsy and Muggsy learned anything back, these past couple of weeks? I got the impression that Muggsy has started to realise what he's given up, but Smuggsy? She thinks she knows everything already and has nothing left to learn. I get no sense of introspection or self-reflection from her; no idea that she understands that she might actually be the problem; and not the slightest hint that she realises she's just not important.

Psychologists (professional and amateur) can point out her vanity and narcissism and a few other personality problems, but I'm just happy to learn from her... while secretly retaining my fantasies about her attending a polo match and falling face-first off her high-heels into a big pile of steaming horse doo-doo.

Smuggsy can't learn. If she can't learn, she can't grow as a person. She'll always remain trapped inside the tiny mind of Herself.

I still hope Muggsy can dig deep and learn how to move forward with grace and a humble heart.

God gives gifts to the world, even small gifts like butterflies and birdsong and rainbows. He gives us the chance to learn to love and hug and cry and say "I'm sorry!". He's gives us the chance to make our own choices and mistakes and learn from them -- He's the little voice of conscience that stops Mad throwing kippers at traffic wardens and insurance salesmen. God gave us a particularly big and important gift but I'm pretty sure His name was Jesus, not Smuggsy. Jesus had loads that he could have been smug about; walking on water, raising the dead, being nice to taxmen... but what I see is a genuinely nice guy who tried to love everybody, even inherently smug smirky people.

Smug smirky people who can't to learn how to love anyone back.

PS:

Forgive me Lord for calling her Smirky McSmirkyface and for hoping she faceplants in horse poop, I admit I still have a lot of learning to do!