#and that they were super fucking overworked

[spotsupstuff]

Does Boreas truly love his family or does he simply see it as a responsibility to take care of them simply because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you have family? How does he react when he loses them in the canon timeline?

well, when Zephyr fell and went dark he was messed up by it so badly he never really got out of it even after he takes up raising and caring for batflies. he's so used to feeling anger all the time and hardly anything else that he doesn't know how to deal with the feelings Zephyr's passing makes him go through. he essentially becomes paralyzed in the grief, which is actually the main thing that destroys Mission Self-preservation

that's what this meme basically addresses-

if he socialized better, wasn't caught only in his tiny little circle and refused any relationship from others like Orion, he could've addressed that crippling emotional agony that comes with passing of a loved one. time won't heal you well without medicine

Boreas is the first one Euros tells about his second Rot

another tragedy he won't be able to cope with. Euros' last broadcast is singing into the frequencies, for anyone still alive and capable to listen to him for the last time. B and some more others come together and answer his calls, sing to him until his power fails and Euros goes dark

if he didn't love the boy, the man who doesn't like to sing much wouldn't come to mourn with a ballad at the funeral

his anger at Notos' blindness is inspired by my parents whenever my disability becomes the topic of a conversation. they are so so angry i've been hurt this way. nobody should have to be disabled, we are supposed to be okay. so Boreas loves Notos unbelievably much and his anger at the injustice done to her is an evidence of it. he doesn't get to call it before it collapses like with Euros because the communications are down and something tells him that it wouldn't really want to see him in its final moments upright either way. after Zephyr's collapse he became even more prickly including to his loved ones since he can't deal with it and that ended with Notos replying in kind. it's his fault that the two drifted away, but he still loves that kid

i dunno where i've seen it but in some film i think there was a scene of an addict dad and his kid, POV the kid. the dad shouted and cursed and blamed the kid for his state and for his grief, probably shattered an alcohol bottle too, then he realized what he just did while the kid cowered in the corner. he was *horrified*. he came to the kid and hugged them softly, crying and apologizing, begging for forgiveness. the child was just scared, wide eyed in confusion. that's what Boreas and Notos' relationship ends up carrying in spirit nearing the end of them all

they still love each other, but the other is doing such horrible dangerous decisions and acting even worse that it's impossible to stand and it hurts So damn much to space away from it. to shoot a fiery glare towards him when on the good days he can be the epitome of safety. so it's complicated but the love Is there, making it hurt that much more

Haboob is the only one who sorts of falls into that "its just my responsibility to take care of you" field. i kind of think of Boreas like a lion. he will stay and protect his kids, play with them, but offspring of others will be killed (ofc he doesn't go That far with fellow Iterators). after Notos, the Anemoi were supposed to be a finished group. that's it. there's only four gods to be named after. so Haboob to him is like a kid he was forced to adopt, by people he absolutely loathes. while Euros learned how to love her, Boreas just learned how to take on the responsibility. being horrible to her was easier than anyone else, but surprisingly to him it still stung when Haboob had enough and essentially slammed the door in his face by leaving the Anemoi chat and blocking his frequency. didn't help that Notos followed soon after too, cuz at this point it loved Haboob more than whatever was Boreas becoming

he took note of the sting n at some point figured out that he did actually love the kid. spent too long with her chatting with Euros and Notos in the back of his mind to not accept her into the family properly. in the off string post-MA au them addressing their relationship is one of the more important plot points

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi losing what is left of his patience when you get injured by a demon

Pairing: Sanemi x wife!reader

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Despite the fact that your husband is the opposite of your quiet and kind self, you love him dearly while Sanemi treasures you in a purely unique way. But even though you learned to love his rough side the way it is, you can't stop tears from falling when your husband loses it after you get injured by a demon

Warning: this is THE angst to fluff y'all, Sanemi is a rough but soft boi I'm so weak for him in this fic omgomgomg, been listeing to again by noah cyrus and lana del rey while writing this, injury + angst + near death experience

this might be my favorite sanemi fic coming from my own hands so PLEASE if you feel the same, I'm super thankful for a lil like, comment or even reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍

Oh, it was never easy, being the wife to none other than the wind hashira. When you’re quiet he’s noisy, when you’re put together he’s all over the place, while you act loving and kind Sanemi shows his devilish side.

But there was not once a day that made you second-guess your decision, not a single moment that made you feel something apart from deep affection for that man. It doesn’t matter that you are the opposite of him in each and every sense. He’s yours. And you’ll forever be his.

“Sanemi!”

Your oh so sweet voice echoes like a well-composed melody through his ears, makes him forget the wave of anger that washed over him earlier. Just seeing you standing there in the yukata he gifted you years ago while holding a dish with ohagi in your hands allows him to forget all the shit that happened for a brief second.

“Didn’t I tell you that you aren’t allowed to overwork yourself?”, he grumbles before sitting down opposite of you.

You look as good as always with your hair well-brushed and kind eyes lit by the down-going sun. What would his life look like if it didn’t contain of coming home to you? You, his only ray of sunshine. You, the only one who’s able to calm his temper down. Just you, his beloved wife. Who would have thought that out of all hashira, he’d be the one who treasures his wife the most?

“It’s not me who is overworked, but you. Did you get bruised again?”, you question with your melodic voice.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Will you stay home tonight?”

“I definitely hope so. If that crow disturbs my sleep again…”

“You have an important roll to fulfil, as a hashira-“

“’It’s my honor to bring peace to those who aren’t able to look out for themselves.’ Yeah, I already know.”

In contrary to his harsh tone, his fingertips caress your cheek gently while his eyes soften in an instant. It was hard, learning how to read him. When you first met, it was not uncommon that you broke out in tears after he talked to you like that. But now, after 4 years of getting to know him, you never lose your kind smile.

“How was your day?”, he continues.

With a swift motion, he pulls you between his legs and presses your head against his bare chest while his strong arms keep you in place. This are the moments that make your life worth living. Just you and your husband, arm in arm, watching the sunset in nothing but peace and silence.

“I enjoyed the nice weather while taking care of the garden. The tulips look exceptionally beautiful this season.”

“They’ll never be as beautiful as you, though”, he replies with low voice.

If life could stay like that. Oh, what you’d give to never let go of him again…

-later that night-

“Wind pillar, wind pillar! An emergency occurred! Countless demons were spotted nearby! The demon slayer corps need your assistance-“

“Can you just shut the fuck up”, Sanemi mumbles while pulling you closer sleep-drunken.

Immediately, you are wide awake. Nearby demons?

“Sanemi, you need to get up. What if someone gets injured?”, you whisper into the dark night.

“So what?”

You stare at him through the veil of darkness, not daring to say another word. He will get up eventually. He always does.

“Urgh, fine…Time to kill some demons, then”, he finally grumbles and drags himself away from you in order to put on his uniform.

“You stay here until I get back. Even if our estate is build pretty safe and I’ll rip off the heads of the demons around first, I don’t want you to be out there on your own. Got it?”, he instructs you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead like he always does.

“I will. Please be careful and watch out for yourself”, you whimper.

It’s a challenge to let go of him each and every night he is forced to leave. He might be a hashira, but what if he doesn’t return by sunrise some day? What if he meets an upper-ranked demon unexpectedly? Just when he’s about to leave, you grab his hand one last time.

“And don’t act reckless”, you add.

No matter how much it hurts to let go of his hand, you know you have no other choice. This is the life you chose, the price you have to pay in order to call that wonderful man your beloved husband.

“I can never promise you that”, he replies before leaving you alone in the now cold and awkwardly dark room.

Everything will turn out alright. It just has to…

You don’t know how long you’ve been awake already. Minutes? Hours? All you’re able to do is stare at the ceiling above, ears perking up with every minor movement of the trees outside. Surely, Sanemi will return soon. Being the skilled fighter he is, it normally takes him at most two hours until he returns with his sheets still a little warm. But aren’t those two hours over already?

Another noise outside catches your attention. Is it a tree again? You furrow your eyebrows, immediately sitting up straight while staring outside the window. No, this almost sounds like the whimpers of a child. A child outside at this hour?

You swallow hard. A child outside when there are demons reported around this area?

“P-please, someone help me! I-I’m so s-scared!”

Your heart drops to the floor. There is no doubt in the fact that this has to be a child. Your mind starts racing back and forth. It would be absolutely unacceptable to leave that poor soul out on its own, especially when you can’t know if the area is really free of demons. But on the other hand…You bite your lip when your husband’s words replay themselves in your head.

“No matter what happens when I’m gone. Don’t. Go. Out. On. Your. Own. At. Night. Need me to spell it, (y/n)? Never ever, not in a million years. Got it?”

Not under any circumstances. Your husband made that very clear countless times. But does that include a helpless child outside your estate in the middle of the night? You aren’t a fighter like Sanemi is, even refused to keep an emergency katana in the house just in case. There is no way you could harm a single soul, not even a demon. Leaving a child outside in the middle of the night…isn’t that just as unforgivable?

Sanemi said that he’ll take care of the demons around first. That means you’re safe, right? But even if that poor child doesn’t face danger in the form of a demon, it will certainly freeze with that cold breeze rushing over the land these days.

“P-please, is someone there? I’m s-so tired and s-so cold…I…I can’t walk anymore…”

Your heart aches with every word. No matter how much value the promise you made towards your husband holds in your heart, you simply can’t stand the thought of ignoring an innocent little child that needs your help.

“Why are you out there all on your own, where are your parents?”, you shout into the darkness of your home while making your way to the door.

Is it really okay, breaking the promise you’ve made like that? You grab the handle of the door tightly. This might be the only time you’re actually useful. Without any skills apart from cooking, you can only watch from the side-lines how the demon slayer corps save the world. Maybe this is your chance to do a little something as well, your chance to actually be helpful.

You swing your door open while holding your breath.

“Where are you? Let’s get you inside and grab a warm tea, okay? You must be freezing”, you speak out gently, eyes scanning the garden for the little figure.

“I’m right here!”, the innocent voice cries out to your right.

Instantly, you pick up your pace and sprint towards the tiny figure lying in the grass. Oh no, you can’t imagine what this little child has been through, how it even got here. Did it get lost in the woods and failed to return before the night came? You’ll have to prepare a guestroom right away, just after inviting this little one in-

“Foolish woman.”

Time stands still, your glossy orbs starts to tremble when the tiny figure in front of you starts to build itself up, grows taller and taller until it surpasses your own height by multiple inches. This…this isn’t a child.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, blood rushing through your ears so violently that you feel like fainting any given minute after it strucks you like lighting.

You were tricked by a demon. After Sanemi warned you over and over, you fell for the lousy trick of a demon. Out of instinct you start stumbling backwards, glossy eyes darted towards the horrific creature with bright red eyes and fangs bigger than your own head.

“I waited patiently until that demon slayer was gone. A young and beautiful woman like you sure tastes nice. Now that I’m seeing you fully, you were definitely worth the wait. I’m sure your flesh tastes excellent.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. Is this really how your life will come to an end? Because you didn’t listen to your husband, because you wanted to be somehow useful? How will Sanemi react, finding out that you were killed? Suddenly your legs threaten to give in and force you to come to a stand. It’s not like you’d be able to defend yourself in any kind of way when all you ever did was taking care of Sanemi and your imaginary perfect life.

A perfect life, ruined by one night of carelessness.

His face flashes in front of your inner eyes, the kind smile he always wore when he didn’t know you were watching. Despite the flaws others see in him, his hot temper and the way he treats his little brother, you are head over heels for him. Your husband, your everything, your Sanemi. A perfect little marriage, ruined by you.

“Don’t”, you hush into the night like the fool you’re are.

“How much I love hearing you little women beg not to get killed. Music in my ears!”

He dashes towards, ready to slice your throat open single-handed. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall backwards into the wet grass, watching how his claws brush over your forehead with enough force to discolour your vision red.

“Nice moves. You seem really healthy. That’s actually even better”, the demon purrs.

This is it. Your final moment on this earth, killed through the hands of a demon in your own well-groomed garden. You never imagined it all to go down like this, not when you’re still so young and full of love.

You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, to tell Sanemi one final time how much you adore him and that you’ll love him through everything. Will he be okay? The man who lost almost everything, who has to live with a burden heavier than earth itself balanced on his strong shoulders. This…this will break him even more.

“Any last words?”, the demon jeers at you.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. No, there is nothing this creature deserves to hear from you, not even a single scream will escape your lips. You rest your lids, picture his oh so gorgeous face in front of your inner eye. If you only had more time, if you only listened. Your beloved marriage, vanishing in thin air.

“I’m sorry Sanemi. I’m so so sorry…”

When will it be over?

“Touch her and you’ll die.”

What...No, this is impossible, you have to be dreaming-

“Or nah, you’ll die anyway.”

 The urge to open your eyes again becomes unbearable.

Your heart skips a beat. Instead of getting greeted by the claws of the demon, you’re able to read it very clearly.

“Destroy.”

This back, so familiar broad…

“Sanemi?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside the house?”, he barks over his shoulder.

It happens faster than your eyes are able to follow. One high jump, one slash of his sword and the demon’s head falls onto the soft grass in front of you. Immediately, you are surrounded by dust rising towards the moon.

“What were you even thinking?”

Before you’re even able to feel relieved your husband storms towards you, not a single spark of affection gleaming in his furious eyes.

“You promised over and over”, he screams on top of his lungs.

“I’m-“

“And you fucking lied into my face!”

Roughly, he grabs your Yukata with both hands and yanks your throbbing figure towards him.

“I’m so-“

“Is all of this a joke to you? Don’t you trust your husband enough to do as you’re told!? You’ve had this one job, that one fucking job to stay inside the house!”

“Sanemi, I-“

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Did you really want to die right here?”

“Sanemi…”

You breathe his name into the night with strangled voice, tears now streaming down your face like a waterfall. You made a reckless mistake, but none of this happened because you wanted to hurt him. His words, his furious gaze, his hardened eyes so venomous that you have to look away dig themselves like knives into your already fragile heart and simply take your breath away. Out of all feelings, your husband is livid at you.

“I…I’m sorry”, you finally press out.

“You could have died, (y/n). You know that?”

He pulls you towards himself even harder, his hands fisting the fabric of your yukata so tightly that you fear he might rip it.

“You could have died and I couldn’t have done a single fucking thing. Losing you…Fuck!”

He yanks your chin upwards with one hand, forces you to look at him through your wet lashes. But you aren’t greeted by his stone-cold glare. No, are those…tears shimmering in his orbs? What’s left of your heart breaks in an instant.

“I can’t lose you. Not you, not the love of my life. Not another loved one. I couldn’t fucking stand this shitty world without you by my side. How many times did I tell you to stay inside the house when I’m gone at night?”, he screams at you.

“I-I’m sorry”, you hush through shaky lips.

“You’re my everything. Fuck, I love you so much…Losing you like that…”

The next second you find yourself devoured in his strong arms, holding you pressed against his chest so tightly that you can feel his heart pounding.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, (y/n). Never”, he mutters into your hair while caressing your bloody hair.

“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding, goddamn. Let’s get you inside, this needs to get stitched up.”

You don’t dare to contradict, allowing him to carry you back into safety with your arms cramped around his neck.

You’re safe. Sanemi is absolutely furious with you, but the worry in his eyes, the gleam…You bury your head inside his uniform, desperately trying to escape your own foolishness. None of this would have happened if you just stayed inside like he told you. If you were smart enough…

“How did he get you outside?”, Sanemi finally breaks the silence while cleaning your wound.

“He played a scared and lost child”, you mumble.

“Huh, what I thought. You’d never break a promise over nothing”, Sanemi replies, his voice a little softer than before.

“I know you tried to help, but never to shit like that again. When I saw you lying there and your blood on the grass, I almost died. You’re my everything, my wife. I can’t lose you because of a demon, you hear me? I was so damn worried about you…”

“I just wanted to do something…useful…”

“Useful? Are you too dumb to see how useful you are?”, he bites back.

Sanemi stops barking at you immediately after seeing how glossy your eyes turn all over again. No matter how fucking mad he is right now, he can’t hurt you any further. It’s clear you acted out of the right motives, he shouldn’t scream at you like that. Especially since you almost died tonight. Not his wife, not when you’re everything he has.

“I treasure you more than everything else in this world. You’re the reason I’m still believing there’s something good left here. Don’t you dare to risk your important life like that again, got it?”, he gently continues before caressing your cheek the way you love so much.

“I never wanted to cause you this much trouble. I…I was acting dumb…”, you mutter, intertwining your fingers with his.

“We’re all a little dumb from time to time, yeah? Let’s go back to sleep, that was more than enough for one night.”

You don’t hesitate when he pulls you along into the oh so inviting sheets. With him by your side, they definitely feel way more inviting. With him by your side, you don’t have to fear a single nightmare haunting you down this frightful night.

“At least I’m having an excuse now for a day off tomorrow. I love you, (y/n). So so much”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair, holding you so comforting against his chest that sleep washes over you almost immediately.

“I love you too, Sanemi…”

There is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi held you even closer each and every night after almost losing you through the hands of a demon.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @skeleton-the-gangser (reader isn't pregnant in that one, but the vibe is the same as with the Yoriichi fic you enjoyed)

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ YANDERE SALARYMAN IS A FOOL FOR YOU .

ahhh, looks like you caught the attention of an overworked white collar! who is truly the victim here, you or him?

( yandere, perverted man!!!, nsfwish but no s3x, hes creepy :(( ) + thanks to my bbg for being my beta reader mwah mwah

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who is constantly overworked to the bone by his abusive boss. He's clocked in so many overtime hours that human resources is beginning to suspect something, but his co-workers keep pushing their work onto him that he can't help but go overtime. Working days always seem to be like this— constant yelling by his shitty boss, papers jamming the printer, co-workers dumping more work on him before time-out, the side-eyes and whispers of women directed at him in the elevator, and somehow always forgetting to bring the lunchbox his roommate made for him.  He's a pushover with no backbone, so he spends most of his nights banging loudly at his keyboard and cursing his own spinelessness.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who's just a walking black hole of negativity. It's already bad enough that he's been dealing with a lot of mental baggage from his childhood, but this stupid fucking black company is making him this close to fucking losing it.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who only wants to go pick up a coffee after work and sees you manning the cafe. Just a sweet little thing, working their student debt away at the new cafe's that opened up near his workplace. He tells himself that it's all part of your job to smile and be polite but fuck— your sweet grin's making his hands go clammy and his voice tremble.The line behind him shoots him judgmental glances because the creep is blushing and sweating and stumbling over his words but if you were ever annoyed, you don't show it on your face. No one’s been this nice to him, but when your fingers brush over his shaking ones when you hand him his order, electricity spikes from his fingertips and sends his heart into overdrive as you flash him another service smile. He has never believed in a god before, but upon meeting you, he might as well declare himself religious.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who feels super guilty about drooling over you when you're several years younger than him. You're just a college student trying to finish your studies while he's a white-collar slave about to enter his 30s. The contrast between you and him is like heaven and hell, and he curses himself for being such a stupid filthy pervert as he palms himself to your Instagram page he's managed to find.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who is once again tired and about to die from another night of overtime, heading out to catch the last ride home and surprised to see you closing up shop. You brighten when you recognize him as one of your regulars (he could give two shits about the black coffee he was ordering when he was too busy ogling you). He stammers and shrinks when you ask him about how he's doing out of concern. You mention his eyebags and his pale skin and his overall sickly demeanor and you fret over him as you two walk to the station. He's at a loss for words when you force the ham and cheese croissant into his hands and tell him to eat up, before waving at him with a grin as you enter your bus.

Woah. So like. You're in love with him, right?

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who goes fucking crazy over this interaction. He knows, he knows, he knows, okay?! You’re just nice like that, but his affection-deprived mind is going into overdrive and can’t help but overthink. But he has to stop himself. You’re probably only like that because you pity him, huh? Whatever’s on his pallid face and baggy eyes must have had you pitying the minimum wage salaryman. … This pity act is probably only to make you feel better about yourself, handing croissants out to whichever near-death white collar you see on the street like some sort of good Samaritan. Well, he doesn’t need it! You can fuck off with your—

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who finds himself in front of the cafe again, nervously adjusting his tie and wiping his clammy hands on his slacks before pushing the doors open. You’re on the morning shift today (haha wow what a coincidence) and the grogginess from waking up extra early today is wiped clean after you look up from the tabletop you’re wiping and shoot him one of your megawatt smiles. Fuck fuck fuck why’d you have to be so damn cute! A man could get the wrong idea, you know?!  

“Espresso for Doppo!” Your bright voice rings throughout the cafe and the salaryman has to gulp down his anxiety as he makes his way to the counter. His neck grows hot as he feels glares boring into the back of his head, and the only relief he has is your sunny smile when he picks up his order. “Thanks again for your patronage! Quite the regular here, aren’t you? All staff’s been ecstatic over a Matenro member stopping by here.”

Ugh… The staff knows him? Not only is an insignificant water flea like him taking up a space in your mind, but there are others as well? What could they be possibly saying about him? He nervously laughs, eyes darting around the place as he fidgets. “Uh, ah, y– you know me…?”

He can feel the look that you’re shooting him right now, and he wants to dig a hole for him to hide away in. “Of course! Matenro, the winners of the first Division Battle… waaah, I was so ecstatic when I saw you for the first time! You guys were so cool. I was even cheering you on during the second Division Battle.” You sigh sadly. “Well, Fling Posse’s good, but a Shinjuku local’s gotta stay loyal, y’know?” Oh, so it’s just about being loyal. What was he even thinking, getting his hopes up that maybe you liked Matenro, liked him, for their rap. Stupid, stupid, stupid— “Oh, but don’t get me wrong though! I love the way you guys do hiphop. Especially your screaming shtick, Kannonzaka! Can really feel the pent-up stress from Chuohku all the way to here, haha!”

Doppo shrinks into himself, using his work bag to try and hide the shaky smile that’s been threatening to break out onto his face. To… To think the cute barista he’s been crushing on for a month now is a fan of him… This kind of stuff only happened to Hifumi, not him! He doesn’t… He’s not quite sure to handle the situation. Instead he nods as you gush over Matenro and at the end, finally squeaks out a tiny little, “Th– Thanks!”

You shoot him a pitying look. Clearly all that rap about his pent-up stress and rage is clearly stemming from somewhere. Sighing and looking at the building in front of you, you see the skyscraper’s soulless windows and architecture and sigh. “Enjoy the coffee then, Kannonzaka. Being a black company worker is stuff but!” You shoot him a grin and a thumbs up. “I’m rooting for you and Matenro!”

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who’s reeling from your compliments and praise. Oh… Oh god. You– You liked him! Actually liked him. And, and you said you were cheering for him too! Well, him and Matenro, but still! He goes back to his apartment feeling more chipper than usual, something that his roommate notices. The creepy smile matched with the dark laughter as he enters their apartment isn’t exactly charming, but he’s happy to see him happy nonetheless. He thinks that he’s been wearing that gloomy look for far too long and he’s glad to know that he’s found someone to brighten up his days.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who has gained some courage to hold longer conversations with you. When you’re working the night shift and run into him after closing up, he’s glad to know that you take his dry humor very well. As the two of you silently walk together to the station, he can feel his heart beating so fast that he might near collapse. He wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks and swallows down the anxiety in his stomach. It’s already weird to see a near 30 man walking together with a fresh-faced uni student alone and at night, so he might as well not add more to his creepiness.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who has to bite down his tongue when you press up against him in the jampacked train. You smell like coffee and pastries and he— he tries not to sniff himself— probably smells like sweat. A sudden lurch of the train has you clinging to him to maintain stability and oh god oh god oh god you smell so fucking good shit. He suppresses the urge to sniff your hair. Instead, he (oh gosh he was really about to this) shakily wraps one arm around you, his palm on your lower back to offer you more support. You smile at him so sweetly, as if the dirty old man didn’t have the agenda of just trying to feel you up. Oh… oh gosh he can feel the dip of your lower back… trailing to your—

He hopes you don’t feel the tent down… there. Though with how tightly you two are up against each other, he highly doubts that.

“Bye Mr. Kannonzaka!” You cheerily wave to him as you both part ways at your stop. Though he is unable to match your energy, he waves you off with a faint smile before you bound off to your home. His eyes linger long as your figure disappears into the distance and he’s left all on his lonesome.

— Then he runs off to the nearest bathroom. People cast him weird glances as he rushes off to the farthest bathroom stall and sits on the toilet, burying his head in his hands as he tries to make sense of the numerous thoughts rampaging in his head.

Oh god. That just happened, didn’t it? Something straight out of those perverted doujinshis that happen on trains. And he was the ugly bastard, wasn’t he?! The weird, creepy, scummy ones preying on innocent girls that don’t deserve their fantasies. He was a hopeless case. He should do the entire world a favor and make away with himself, but then he couldn’t see your pretty face in the hell that he was going to. You didn’t deserve this—

His phone dings. He checks the text notification that comes from you.

[Your Name]: heya ! just curious about what brand your bag is. felt it on the train and dats sum serious quality leather!

He screams into his hand. The man in the stall beside him angrily knocks on their shared wall to shut him up. He rack his brain to try and figure out any possible way to properly answer without rousing suspicion until you send another text.

[Your Name]: just kidding~ (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ 

…

… You’re going be to the death of him, you. Youngsters these days.

you thought this was a general yandere fic, didn't you?! get hypmiced!!! /matenros you/

[hotpinkstars]

How about blind!reader with genshin men (you can choose) and she accidentally slipped and somehow managed to mess up genshin man’s important work and he ends up blowing up on her? Angst please and I don’t mind if you do comfort or no comfort!!

Have a great day🌚

-> blinded mistakes

synopsis -> you're blind, and you accidentally knock over a months worth of your husbands work, and it gets ruined.

warnings -> super angsty!!! brief mentions of ayato putting his hands on reader (no hitting or anything) might do a part 2 for comfort part cus i wanted to focus on the main argument w this one...

a/n -> ooooooomg i'm a sucker for these tropes i love angst so much. thx for ur request, this was sm fun to write! 💗💗

w/c -> 1.1k

-> ayato

ayato knew you were blind, and he was as understanding of it as he possibly could be.

but in times like these, where all of this work was to be turned in for city matters by next week, he had no patience for anyone.

he had been cooped up in his office for a while at a time over the past month. these documents were incredibly important to him and how the words written on the paper could impact how festivities were held to be a much easier way for himself and the city. 

basically, his papers were pretty damn important. and you knew that.

you walked in his office one day with thoma helping you through the hallways. you didn’t want to trip, especially with a mug of tea in your hand, and you didn’t want to bring a cane with you. 

but, thoma may have made a big mistake of leaving you in ayatos care as soon as you walked through the door. because you knew ayato was in no way shape or form able to draw himself from his work at the moment.

you were not able to use your cane to feel around the room, so without knowing where the rug was, you tripped.

and the tea you held in your hands went all over his desk, soaking his documents. the ink was splotchy and obviously ruined. you weren’t able to see what happened, but by the way ayato gasped and grabbed your wrist you knew you fucked up pretty bad.

“what the hell were you thinking???” he pulls you up forcefully and pushes you down on his couch, where you started tearing up. you weren’t necessarily used to him yelling at you, for arguments, especially over such as this, were very minimal. he always found a way to come to an understanding with you, no matter what you may have ruined. 

“i’m sorry! i didn’t think thoma was just going to leave-” you were cut off by an angry voice.

“this isn’t thomas issue, y/n. it’s yours. how clueless can you be?” he brings his hands to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose before groaning loudly. 

“i’m sorry that i can’t fucking see, ayato!” you yelled back, slamming your hands on the couch and leaning back. “is that what you wanted to hear?”

he shook his head, but you didn’t know that. he lays his hands on your thighs, squeezing them, before getting close to your face. you could smell his hair, the sakura shampoo he uses being evident. 

“i don’t want a fucking apology, y/n. if these documents are not in by friday, there is no change for inazuma. the change you’ve been awaiting, the change i’ve been awaiting, and the change everyone of the city has been awaiting. you took that away from all of them. because you decided you weren’t going to bring your cane to make sure you don’t fucking fall!” he yells to your face, making the tears spill out.

“i’m sorry! i just wanted to bring you something to drink because i was told you were overworking yourself. gosh, how bad of me for caring for my husband,” you yelled, hands shaking in both fear and rage. you knew talking back to him this way wouldn’t lead to anything good, but you tested your luck anyways.

“remove yourself from my office. i don’t care how the fuck you do it, but i demand you leave,” he said with a low, threatening tone. you knew he was enraged, and you stumbled through the door to the hallway, where ayaka was waiting to take you back to your room.

-> wriothesley

you always felt grateful for wriothesley, and the last thing you wanted to do was to upset him. he was one of the only people to look past your disability and see your heart, see your kindness and purity. 

so when you come up his office stairs very, very slowly with a cup of tea and trip on an uneven plate in the ground, ruining his documents that were incredibly important to him and the palais mermonia, especially to neuvillette, you knew you were screwed.

normally, this didn’t happen. he’d meet you down by his office door after a guard or sigewinne escorted you through the fortress, and help you walk up the stairs with the support of his arm.

he immediately slams his hands down on his table, walking over to where you were. 

you felt his presence looming over you, though unable to see it, you slowly and carefully sit up. he lifts up your chin before speaking.

“why. why would you do that,” he starts in a low tone, something similar he’d use to speaking to misbehaved criminals. “i told you not to visit me today. and what do you do? the complete fucking opposite!” 

you rub your eyes, trying to show no signs of weakness. you stand up, and he grabs your hands, making you feel the mess you made. ripped papers, bleeding ink. a month of progress is officially gone. 

“you feel what you did? that has taken me months! and it’s ruined! if i lose my job because of this-” he starts, dropping your hands as you turn around, your bottom leaning against the desk. 

“i’m sorry! i should’ve either stayed home or have a guard escort me up, i didn’t mean to ruin your progress!” you wipe more tears away, hearing him give an annoyed sigh. 

“you’re right. you shouldn’t have come at all. this would never have happened if you didn’t come. do you understand how much trouble i could be in? if you didn’t visit me at all, i wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of asking for new documents, and i wouldn’t have to do hundreds of papers in three damned days!” he says, obviously distressed.

“look, i’m sorry, okay?! you can tell neuvillette and all of fontaine that i was the one who ruined everything if you want to! i’m sorry about the hassle and i’m sorry for putting more stress on you! all i wanted to do was bring you a cup of tea because you left the house stressed this morning!” you yelled back, crying at this point. “if you don’t want the embarrassment, then you can embarrass me. it seems like i’ve done enough to deserve it, so do it! tell the whole world what i did wrong, and how horrible of a wife i was!”

you called a guard in to escort you out, and that was the last wriothesley had seen of you that day.

[vaaaaaiolet]

Leon gives beyond what's asked of him at both work and home, in excess. He's stressed, overworked; worrying you sick. So you teach him how to take. More or less.

mdni. f / m, SHAMELESS smut. light dom/sub w leon subbing, super light bondage. no huge warnings just your run of the mill, emotionally charged p in v + aftercare!!

word count: 1.2k // read on ao3

a/n: stuff i have fun writing gets zero engagement LMAO but i just wanted to make porn sound pretty :( sorry if it makes no sense i just ughghguh lord knows re4r leon's about to go through it even more than he already has. i need to treat him so right.

It doesn’t take much to lure Atlas to your bed, or at least the form he takes on Earth while you’re still on it. Leon’s been weary with the weight of the sky for a while. Between his missions and taking care of nearly everything at home, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth; you worry the burden is compressing his spine. He never says no to you.

Leon, seriously! You’re going to hurt yourself.

Don’t get up, I can get it mysel- aaand you’re not listening.

You’re so sweet, baby, but you didn’t have to.

He won’t give you a break because he won’t give himself a break, and you’re sick of it. Fed up.

So here’s what you do about it. You put on something sweet and lacy, distracting for all the right reasons because you’re Artemis, tying rope into a trap. And you crook a finger at Leon one night when he’s especially pent up. 

He’s as good as ever. Leon’s kisses come out all huffy and sharp and eager to please when he tries pulling you in, but you know he’s twisting the truth about what he wants.

“Wanna try something,” you tell him.

Confusion crooks his brow. 

“I need to know that you trust me.”

A rhetorical question, really. He’s not particularly fond of traffic lights. Leon decides on sparkler as his white flag, and you let him slot his thigh between your legs one last time for luck before you take him under.

Leon’s a filthy liar. Don’t blame him; his hands were tied.

Correction: his hands are tied. Onto the headboard. He’s falling to pieces, whine as he might, begging to sink his fingers into the swell of your hips, anything to hold on while you give him a taste of his own medicine. All he knows how to do is give, give, give. Tonight, you’re teaching Leon how to take.

Your soft palm envelops his cock. His chest burns where your mouth hovers. 

“Baby, please,” Leon lets out a shuddering breath when you squeeze up his length. 

You’ve been at this for a while, dangling yourself just out of his reach. He’d slipped off your body a baby blue lingerie set matching his eyes, a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down, right? You spin around the color wheel, blue to red, swirling your tongue over his flushed nipples. Leon has never not tasted sweet and this time is no exception.

“Please, what?”

“Do something,” he begs. “Can’t…hold off. Don’t wanna-” Leon interrupts himself with a gasp as you go hands-off at the mere suggestion. “Sweetheart, please!”

"Do you still just want to make me feel good?” you ask.

He nods feverishly. 

Wrong answer. 

You buck on his lap just shy of where he aches most, and he keens beautifully. “What do you really want, Leon?” 

Leon fights the arch building in his back. “Want to f-f- fuck, that feels…”

“Right track, baby,” you coo. 

You lean forward as a treat, let him kiss up your breasts how you know he likes. Gentle teeth bite your tender flesh; you hiss in pleasure. This exercise is as much a lesson in control for him as it is for you because you’re going a little hazy yourself. Try straddling the man who would gladly bring down the moon and stars if you so as much ask, and then denying him the single thing he wants most. You.

You’d give up everything for him. Just as he would for you. 

God, that’s where he gets it from, isn’t it? What is it about rules for thee but not for me?

Leon bucks when you loosen his metaphorical reins; smells petrichor that wasn’t there before your head went all stormy. He gazes up at you with cobalt eyes, and suddenly decides that he’s done with his learning curve.

“I want you to fuck me,” he blurts.

You kiss him, soft and sweet. “You’re gonna take what I give you?”

“Everything.”

“Why, baby?” 

Here’s the million dollar question, and Leon passes with flying colors. “‘Cause I…cause I want to feel good.”  

“Why should you? Hm?” You pray he doesn’t let the initial sting of your words get to him when you slip the weeping head of his cock along your slit. The pleasure is quick, fleeting. Not enough. Leon does more than enough and you need him to understand. You have to untie his hands, and they spring free; come home to your hips. Old habits die hard. Leon’s dipping two fingers inside your sopping wet cunt already.

Rephrasing might help. “Why should I make you cum?” you ask, swallowing hard to keep the shudder out of your voice when his knuckle digs into your clit. An opening. 

His eyes pinpoint to pricks.

“Because I fucking deserve it,” Leon growls. “So give it to me.”

The student becomes the master not a moment too soon. 

You urgently notch the head of his cock inside your starving cunt, nearly choking him at the snug fit. He’ll never get used to the feeling of you taking him in. You’re always free to swallow him however you please, but the way your insides wrap around him is unmatched to any mortal feeling he can liken to. Your pussy is poetry in practice.

“Teasing me for damn near hours and won’t even let me touch you.” Leon’s nails bite half-moons onto your thighs as you mount him. “You know what that does to me?”

“That’s how I feel when you don’t fucking take a break,” you bite back. “Leon, you’re gonna work yourself sick, you’re making me crazy!”

What if you’re going about this all wrong? 

“F-Feeling’s mutual. Ugh!” Leon bites off a shout at the molten welcome of your walls all along his length as he sinks home. “So good, so fucking good, baby. Needed to be in you so bad. Thought I was gonna die- oh,” he cuts off a moan when your hips roll hungrily over his, “just like that. Just like that, baby.”

You syncopate your rocking with his heaving breath. Run your palms down the ridges of his hard-earned abs. This is a tandem ride to the tilt that threatens to push you over the edge and you’re fighting it because you still need to get your point across. 

“I want you to - fuck! - take care of yourself,” you cry. “Let me do things for you. Like-” 

Electricity sings through your core through the traitorous press of a thumb weak to your tears.

“-this.” Leon finishes, smiling weakly.

“I loved it, I swear! Did you see me, like, at all?”  

“That’s not the point…” you muffle an embarrassed groan into Leon’s chest as he laughs to himself. Bastard. You’re in his arms keeping his spent cock warm inside you, secretly burning with shame. 

You wanted to do it right, fuck him within an inch of his life ‘cause it’s the first time he’s ever expressed wanting anything from you – and you’d gone and fucked it up. He’d made you cum first and then finished. Chivalry could suck it. 

“I get it.” Leon nods solemnly. “You just got tired of the usual.”

Your heart stops.

“Kidding, sweetheart.” 

Again, bastard. 

“Message received loud and clear,” he kisses the top of your head, and you finally settle down into the smiley afterglow that comes after sex with Leon. “I’ll share the load with you,” he promises, kissing your cheeks, “tell you what I need, take it easier on myself.”

“And why should you?” you ask.

Familiar question, right? You hope it rings bells.

Leon grins. “Cause I deserve it.”

It rings true.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part three)

Steve Rogers x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : The reader returns to New York for the first time after Steve left, reuniting with Bucky. We see a little more of what the reader and Steve went through while on the run.

themes/warnings : pining, tension, unrequited love, two sad saps (reader and Bucky) trying to get over trauma and heartache :(, language, brief mention of injuries

word count : <2k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

2024, three months after Steve's departure

You just finished your second mission since the final battle.

Since Tony. Since Nat.

Since... him.

Only three months, or rather, three long months. You don't know why Sam was worried that you are apparently overworking yourself.

He keeps calling you up, checking in from time to time, making sure that you are allowing yourself to relax. Have a little break. Stay with them in New York for a while. Maybe even have a couple of sessions with the therapist Bucky is seeing.

He must have done a darn good job at convincing you, or maybe you were just exhausted, because you arrive back in New York soon enough.

And Bucky comes knocking on your door not long after.

Your eyes meet, both of you blocking your doorway. Not a single word needs to be said - the understanding you two share runs much deeper.

Two kindred abandoned souls and whatnot.

You step aside to let him through and close the door behind him. His hair is trimmed shorter now, and with his getup, he could pass as just another civilian. It takes another beat of silence before he finally asks, "So how are you?"

You snort at how ridiculous his question sounds. He knows. "How are you?" you counter, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"Touché," he says, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing it atop your kitchen island. He knows his way around. He's been here before, on the many nights you both shared drinks with Natasha, Sam and... him.

Damn it. You curse internally. It's okay, his name was Steve. He's not the fucking boogeyman.

He gives you a quick once over, immediately noticing that you're putting a lot of your weight on your left leg.

"I fell out a window," you sigh.

"Fuck's sake," he grimaces, shaking his head.

"Hey, we can't all be super soldiers, Buck. My muscles are just a bit softer than yours."

He presses on, still concerned, "Checked in for your physical yet?"

"Booked it for tomorrow," you respond. "But it shouldn't be too bad."

You feel his eyes continue to scan you, but in a non-invasive way. He's checking for more injuries, more signs of wear and tear. He's a lot like Steve, but his gaze is different, less commanding.

More broken.

"Anything new?" you have to ask to distract yourself, and he picks up on it right away. About Steve. He hasn't shown up like he said he would. You had been dreading it - the possibility of seeing a much older Steve, after he got to live out his life in this timeline.

He promised he would try and find you. A version of him, at least. White-haired and wrinkled and weary, but still your Steve. He said you would see him again, in what would be his future and your present, and say a real goodbye. Maybe even tell you all about his life and his girl.

You thought you blocked all that out, but sadly it did not slip your mind. You remember. And you didn't want to be there when it happens.

But nothing did, and you didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

"Nothing," Bucky shakes his head. "But Dr. Banner is keeping track on whether there are any anomalies in the timeline, specifically in where Steve went back. Everything seems to be normal."

He's fine, and he finally got his normal. And you should let go.

As if he can read your mind, Bucky says, "It's hard to let go, isn't it?"

He's struggling. Of course he is. Bucky also has an old skin to shed, and bones to bury. You never encountered the Winter Soldier back in the day, but you heard of him.

Once you got to know Bucky, you never needed to know anything else. This is who he really is, and he's a good person. He's your friend.

And Steve trusted him. He believed in him. That would have been enough in your eyes, if anything.

"What makes you think I haven't let go yet?" you smile weakly.

He exhales, smiling back. Because, he seems to say, I know you.

Stepping forward, he opts for putting a hand on your shoulder first, unsure. He squeezes gently once, but then changes his mind and pulls you in for a hug at the last second, careful not to add any stress on your leg.

It takes the breath out of you, with his vibranium arm wrapped around your midtorso.

"I'm glad you're back," he mumbles against your hair.

Bucky knows that only you would really understand. The others, maybe they loved Steve too. Admired him. But it was different with the two of you.

Clint can move on with his family. Sam has his new responsibilties. Thor is out of world. Wanda has her own burden to bear. The world will go on as it always has.

But not for us, you think. As he held you tight, you decide that you will help Bucky through it. You will make sure that he gets the peace that he deserves and he is able to let go of Steve. Even if doesn't happen for you, this would be enough.

You offer him a drink after a moment, and he accepts without hesitation.

This is how it starts. This is how the two of you begin to move on.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2017, ten months after the Avengers' Civil War

"Where were you?" Steve's voice came from somewhere in the room. He was seated in the small living room of your shared cabin, blinds drawn shut, almost out of sight.

You twisted around, and let your duffel bag fall to the floor. Squeezing the bridge of your nose, you let out a shaky breath. "What the hell, Steve, you nearly scared me."

You rummaged through the cupboard, looking for your stashed whiskey. "Nearly," you repeated in jest, when you heard him making his way to you.

You got a much better look at him then. His hair had darkened due to its length, and his beard was thicker. You were going to need several swigs of hard alcohol to resist jumping his bones.

"I was worried," he said, and his tone was gentler. It made you feel guilty, and you didn't know why. "I came back from Wakanda and you were gone."

"I wasn't gone, Steve. Sam needed help getting away with something, you know how it is. We don't exactly have a set schedule on when and where to go, given our fugitive status."

"I know, I know," he said right away, frustrated. What's wrong with him? "But you could have called, left a note - "

"A note could have been intercepted."

" - anything. Just to let me know how you are. You could have been taken in for all I know - "

"You really think I would let them take me in?"

He threw a stern glare your way, propping a hand on his hip. Based on his stance, you thought of how it looked like Captain America was about to give you a good scolding.

But you beat him to it. You were just too tired, and your arm was killing you. "Look, Steve, I had to help Sam and you were still in Wakanda checking up on Bucky. I didn't think it was a big deal. I thought I would be back here by the time you - "

"What's wrong with your arm?" he interrupted you, his practiced eyes easily noticing the damage, and reached for your forearm. "Take your jacket off."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head before you can catch yourself. "What?" you squeaked, but you knew just what he meant.

Steve was on full Captain mode, always looking out for anyone he feels responsible for. That's all it was. You had to remind your hopeful self that it was nothing more.

His hands were waiting by the neckline of your jacket, asking for permission. Ever so polite, even when his mood is sour.

You can ignore a lot of things, compartmentalize your emotions. You're used to it all, not getting too attached to anyone or anything as a result of your chosen life.

But you couldn't ignore the burning feeling his fingertips left behind as they grazed your skin. When he guided you to the couch so he can take a better look at the bruises on your arm, you were seated close. The closest you've ever been to each other, but he didn't look fazed at all.

Of course not. This doesn't mean the same to him, as it does to me.

You watched him the entire time, his long eyelashes almost grazing his cheek as he looked down at his work. His brows furrowed in concentration. Once in a while, he mumbled something that sounded like, never should've happened, or gotta watch out next time.

It didn't take long for him to fix you up nicely, your arm disinfected and wrapped in gauze.

After you thanked him, you stood from the seat, ready to compartmentalize that moment too. Because that was not the time to go falling for anyone, especially not someone who was just too good for you.

But he grabbed your hand before you walked away, looking up at you as he stayed seated.

"Steve?" There it was again, that burning. That warmth. If he didn't notice the goosebumps on your skin before, you were sure he saw them then.

"I - " he hesitated, before finally deciding on, "I'm glad you're okay."

You tilted your head, smiling. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, y'know."

His worried and serious expression drops and he smiled, eyes all crinkled.

And that was one sight you won't ever be able to ignore.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

A week later, Natasha dropped by. Sporting a brand new white-blonde hairdo that suited her just as fine as her signature red.

You teased her about it, saying how she must have been waiting for an opportunity like this to have an excuse to drastically switch out her hairstyle.

The two of you sat on the bench on the patio while Steve chopped up wood in the distance, looking like a right ol' lumberjack.

He looked too damn good, and it annoyed you. He wasn't making any of it easy.

"You could switch your hair out too, you know. It helps in going incognito," she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair.

You swatted her hand away playfully, grinning, "Oh, but my face is too memorable so it might not even work."

"Oh really?" she smiled, with that mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, Steve certainly seems to think so."

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"He looks at you like you're his sun or something," she stretched out, amused by the obvious rush of blood to your face.

You shook your head profusely, because of how wrong you thought her assumptions were. "He looks at me because there's no one else around here to look at. Not for at least fifty miles or even more."

"Honey, please. It's my job to know these things."

"Oh, is it now?"

"Mhmm," she patted your knee, tilting her head in Steve's direction without turning to look at him. "I'm willing to bet Tony's LA mansion that he's looking at you right now."

"No, he's not - "

"Then prove me wrong."

But you turned, and you couldn't prove her wrong.

Your eyes met Steve's and when he realized your attention was on him, he simply smiled.

Like you were his sun, Natasha had said. But she was a bit off the mark.

You were never Steve's sun, but he was yours.

Read part four here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx

It will be a bit more of jumping back and forth through time, before we see everyone back together (even Steve? 🤷🏻‍♀️)

It's the start of a potential Bucky x reader. I gotta be careful here because I might just flip and want the reader to be with him instead.. who could ever look over Bucky???? He's going to make it hard for us that's for sure.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Hi bb, just a thirst idea for you: Study fucking. Your fave has trouble being "smart" but he is a genius when it comes to pounding that ass after he gets too frustrated during a study session.

Oh, Vi, my sweet. I know you sent this a while ago. But when I read it, my heart wasn't the only thing to clench up 😈! Thank you so much for sending this to me. It was so fun to write!!

A/N ::: Nerd/Bad Boy!Keisuke Baji x F.reader, reader doesn't know he's in Toman until later (or at all, idk), he is NOT playing stupid, math is just really fucking hard!

C/W ::: Mutual pining that's super on the DL, unprotected P->V, Baji surprising us ... so nothing out of the ordinary.

WC ::: Just over 2k.

"Why though?!" Baji yelled a little louder than you thought he needed to. But it was clear he was getting more and more pissed about this. "Why the FUCK does it have to equal the fucking same area as this fucking pellaroraglam?"

You bit the insides of your cheeks and your tongue to keep from laughing at him about his pronunciation of the word 'parallelogram'. "Because that's how the Greeks intended it. Ok? Let's take a 10 minute break and come back to this again, yeah? You're not an idiot, Kei. I think you've just been staring at the book for so long that things are starting to make less and less sense. Does that make sense?" You reached over and took his glasses from his face and brushed your finger up and down the bridge of his nose. "Do you want to go for a walk or get something from the kitchen? Maybe to eat or drink? Make this 10 count because when we get back, we're hittin' it hard again, ok?"

Something about your wording made his cock twitch. But he shoved that thought down almost as quickly as it bubbled up into the forefront of his overworked brain.

"Hittin' it hard again, hah? You're mean, y/n. You're a bully. A learning bully. You're not gonna give in until I understand this shit, are ya?" He stood up from your desk and he gestured for you to follow him to your kitchen.

Your apartment was nothing special. But how you made the space your own was something that Baji always found so sweet and comforting. Of course, he'd never admit that to you. He is, after all, the first division Captain of Toman. Captains don't find things 'sweet.' They find them masculine and bloody. That's what everyone from the outside looking in thought, anyway. Though, no matter how hard he tried to ignore the pull you and your apartment had on him, he always found himself wishing he was back here, with you, in this little bubble of mild contentment you'd created.

He was relaxed when he was with you. Save for right now. But you were trying to help him study for his midterm. Any other time he's been here, he always felt safe. Maybe even small, for lack of a better descriptor, when he is anything but 'small' in any sense of the word.

"You really do have a mean streak in you, you know that?" He teased as you both walked into your kitchen. "But you're right. I need a break from that book. My eyes are crossing and it's starting to give me a headache."

"Do you want a couple of tylenol? I think I have ibuprofen, too. Anything I can do to help you with this, Keisuke. It's my job, after all. Use me however you need to to get this through that stubborn head of yours." You smiled so cute at him that he had a difficult time not telling you what he really wanted to use you for.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that. But first, can I ask you something kinda weird?" He sat down on one of the bar stools at the counter and you followed suit, sitting next to him.

"Of course! Anything, Kei." You rubbed your fingers up and down your forearm, a nervous habit. Even still, you assumed it was a question about the math you were helping him study. "What's up?"

"So, like, I know you're not into me in that way. Right? And that's fine. You've made that very clear. But, like, if you were...into me, I mean, into someone … hypothetically, I mean, what kind of person do you think you would be into? Like, are you more into the nerdy type, or the bad boy type, or, like, the artsy type?"

You didn't really understand where this was going. But you decided to humor him. "Well, I guess I've always been pretty attracted to the bad boy type. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't go for someone who was nerdy, too. It all depends on the person, you know? I have to like them first and foremost. Like, just because I see some bad boy doing bad boy stuff doesn't mean I'll fall to my knees and s-"

Baji choked on his tea, spitting it all over you in the process of trying to control the amount of liquid that was coming out of his mouth.

"Oh fuck! I'm so sorry, y/n! Gahhhd damn it. I am so sorry!" He grabbed the roll of paper towels from the counter by the sink and tore some off to frantically wipe your chest.

"K-Kei! Oh my god! Stop! It's ok! I'm at home, I can easily change my shirt. Don't worry about ... about it. You yell so much. Geez."

You hopped off of the stool and went back to your bedroom to find a shirt to change into. As you did so, Baji felt his stomach turn. He knew he shouldn't have asked you that. It was stupid and immature. But he couldn't help it. He'd had a crush on you for so long that he just needed to know if he had a chance in hell with you or not. But, as he'd guessed, you weren't interested in him that way.

He waited for you to come back to the kitchen before apologizing again. "I really am sorry, y/n. I don't know what came over me. I was just, I dunno, asking for a friend. And then you started to say that if you saw someone doing something that you’d fall to your knees and …" He waved his hand in the air as if to clear what he was going to say away before it’d even had a chance to see the light of day. “And I choked and blew my tea all over you.”

You giggled and shook your head, smiling at him. "It's ok, Kei. You're a little clumsy, but you're still really sweet. I like hanging out - I mean, you know. Helping you study. I enjoy your company, regardless of what we're doing."

"Y/n? I really wanna kih-" He blushed and looked away from you before he thought you saw his face turn a pretty shade of pink.

"You what, Kei?" You leaned around him a little to get his attention. "What do you want, Baji? You can tell me. We're friends."

FRIENDS 

"Oh, y-yeah. Of course we're ... friends. Yeah. Well, let's get back to the math, then. C'mon." His heart, smile and morale sank as he headed back to your room with you.

Meanwhile, you were left to wonder what he was going to say. What did he want to 'kih'? Kiss? Oh, no. It couldn't be that. Right? Maybe he just wanted to kick your butt for making fun of his pronunciation earlier ... even though your face was the only thing giving away the fact you were getting quite a bit of entertainment from that. He wouldn't have noticed that. Right?

You followed him back to your bedroom and decided to keep quiet about the whole thing. You couldn't imagine that he would want to kiss you. You were just his tutor. And he was so cool. He had cool friends, girls practically fell at his feet when he walked by them. He couldn't possibly have feelings for you, right?

Oh, but he did. He really did. He was mad for you. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his lap and kiss you senseless. But that couldn't happen. He couldn't ruin the time you spent together. It was precious to him, even though he knew you saw it as nothing more than a job.

The next hour of your time together was spent studying right from the book. There was no talking, no joking, just Baji finally getting to work. It was a welcome change for you. It meant you could focus on your task at hand and not worry about him trying to distract you with his unfinished sentences.

He was still so frustrated. But he was starting to make progress. He was starting to understand what you were trying to teach him. He just wished he could show you how he felt.

As you helped him work through the last of the 4 problems he had to do, he tried to come up with a way to say it. To tell you how he really felt. He was never good at words. Action was his strength. "I'm not sure about par-parallelograms? Is that how you say it? I'm so fucking sick of that long ass word. It's so stupid. Why couldn't they just say a special type of quadrilateral that has both pairs of opposite sides parallel and equal. That word is like 73 letters long. I hate it. It's so fucking annoying, y/n. Jesus."

You clapped and jumped a little where you stood, your tits bounced and his eyes went right to them. "Yes! Yes, Kei! Good! Good job!" You jumped into his arms and hugged him so tightly, burying your face in his neck, (accidentally) inhaling his scent. "I knew you could ..." you pulled your face back from him and looked into his brown eyes. "I knew you could do it ... Keisuke. Mmm ... Kei-suk-e. You ..." you breathed the words out heavily and found yourself staring at his full lips. That sly smile, his sharp teeth. Pain never looked so appealing. 

Your heart stopped in your chest when he threw the math book across the room and it slammed into your wall with a loud thud. Before you had time to process what was happening, his hands were in your hair and his lips were on yours.

You'd been so stupid for someone who taught other people things. So stupid to not see how he felt. And now, here he was, kissing you like he needed you to breathe. You reached up and pulled his long black hair back from his face and returned the kiss with just as much intensity.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything, y/n. I didn't think you'd want me that way. I'm just a dumbass with no future. You're so smart and pretty and funny and ... and I just can't believe you're actually kissing me back right now."

You shook your head and smiled. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize what was happening, Kei. You're not as good at hiding your feelings as you think. You should have just said something, though. This whole time we've been studying everything together, we could have been ..."

"... fucking like rabbits?" He laughed, but his eyes were serious.

You reached down and unbuttoned his jeans. "You know, it's not nice to talk to your tutor like that. But Baji, you've made a lot of progress tonight. I think you deserve a reward."

He picked you up and laid you down on your bed. "Oh yeah? And what kind of reward do you think I deserve, y/n?"

You reached over to your bedside table and turned on your neon pink LED lights. "The best kind, Kei. You've earned it."

"Fuck, y/n. You are so hot. I can't wait to fuck you so hard you forget everything you've ever taught me. We’ll have to have some more lessons. Is that ok with you?"

You nodded as you pulled your shirt up and over your head. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. We can even work on your pronunciation. You're a bit of a mess with your consonants."

He kissed you again and smiled. "Y/n, oh my god, shut up ... you're the worst." He pulled his pants down and straddled you, his cock rock hard and ready for you. "But you're also the best. I can't wait to make you mine."

"Kei, you're already mine." You reached up and cupped his cheek, pulling him in for another kiss. "Now ... teach me something.” 

@darkstarlight82 @katshimizuu @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku @arlerts-angel

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Beef

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Requested : "Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?" EDIT: I saw this same request being written by another writer and I want to say, don't send multiple writers the same exact request. I find this super disrespectful.

This one took some turns of its own while writing, I hope it's to your liking!!

When his group first came to the community you were excited. Finally you'd have a real huntsman around to share experiences with, you had missed it so bad.

Before the fall your family owned a shop, your father a butcher and your mother a taxidermist. You and your siblings learned every skill from hunting to skinning, prepping and using each part of the animal so none would go to waste. You hadn't hunted in so long, you weren't sure if you still could hunt succesfully. Even now you'd donate large, strong antlers and bones to the blacksmith in Hilltop to use in weaponmaking. You donated the furs you didn't fashion into items yourself to the seamstresses and prepped each type of meat for meals.

But somehow the new hunter didn't take the shared interests as something positive.

He brought you animals, yes. But never without throwing a judgy look around your workplace. Even when he came in with someone else who'd compliment your clean work he'd only scoff, dump his kills and head back out.

"Sheesh, what crawled up his ass?" The large moustached man laughed. You only shrugged as you lugged the deer behind your counter. "Hell if I know. Ain't digging it out tho. He seems to be doing okay with everyone except for me.." You returned the laugh while the man who's name slipped your mind helped you put the deer on your workbench, only to quickly drop the fake smile and leaning against your workbench.

You thanked him with a sigh and he gave you that look that told you to spill your thoughts.

"Fine. It sucks he's so weird. It'd be awesome to have a partner to do all of this with and to go hunt with." You busied yourself sharpening yuour knives, clearly still annoyed by the whole ordeal. "And..?" The long winded drawl made you roll your eyes at the man's persistance.

"And he's drop dead gorgeous, okay? There. I said it. I have a crush on the man. Happy no-- Ah fuck!" Your knife hit the floor with a clatter as you grabbed at your bleeding hand.

"Alright, up and out withya. To the doc we go." You were led to the infirmary and passed the source of your annoyance on the way.

Not that you were listening, but you still caught his voice in passing. "Damn folk 'ere don't know how ta do shit." You caught his glance in your direction and if you weren't busy keeping yourself from bleeding out you'd confront him.

It was a clear message that you weren't allowed to use the injured hand for your work and risk pulling the stitches, and honestly it just hurt too much to do anything with it. It sucked even more than having to leave your old home behind. There were people counting on your work so they'd have food.

It didn't stop you from going to work and doing as much as you could one-handed. You got there extra early to make up for the extra rime everything would take now, and by the time you'd normally open you found Deanna on your steps, greeting you with her usual smile. "I knew you'd be here stil working, but I brought someone to help until your hand is better. You shouldn't be overworking yourself."

As quick as she had entered she had left again as well, leaving you with your new work companion.

The hunter.

"Good morning." You gave him the kindest smile you could, but were only given a grunt in return as he tossed a bundle of tied up small game on your desk, rounded the corner and fished for a knife to start taking them apart.

Besides you explaining where to put all the different parts of the animal you two barely spoke, until the snap of bone pulled you away from your focused work of skinning yesterday's deer. "The hell?" You turned around to go see what he was up to.

"What are you breaking bones for?" His station was a mess, he pointed at the difficult point he was cuting along. "Easier ta reach without the bone in the way." Without even looking he continued. "Ya should know tha'. Damn city girl doin' mah work."

Again with his snarky comments. You shrugged it off and went back to your own station. Yiur bkood bloiled but you weren't gonna let him get to you, you had work to get done. "Try not to do that, we can still use the bones if you keep them whole."

You tried so hard to focus on your work, skinning the deer with only one functional hand was so difficult and even though you were having extremely conflicted feelings about it you still had to ask him for help.

"Can I borrow your hands for a minute? Can't do this on my own."

You held the large deer up and moved it as Daryl cut away the skin in the most choppy manner, creating a clear line where you stopped and he started. "Can you please work a bit mote delicate? That's gonna take me ages to clean up." You huffed from keeping the deer in place, but also annoyance. Why didn't he work like a hunter? He must know the code, right?

"Why're ya so on mah ass 'bout how I work? Gon' toss it out anyways. Just need the meat, tha's it." He got snappy at the end and you just stared at him, anger clear in your eyes. "Seriously?"

You let go of the deer and stepped away from the counter. "You're sent to MY shop. To help me because I happen to fuck up my hand for the first time ever since I got here years ago and all you can do is talk shit about me?" The knife that laid on the desk before now in your good hand and pointed at his chest. "God I can't believe I even fell for your hunting woodsman charms. You're just an asshole who doesn't give a shit about these animals or the hunter's code." With a clatter the knife hit the floor as you tossed it to the side with shaking hands.

"Get the fuck out of my shop and go find me someone who cares." With angry steps you turned around and headed out of the room, needing a break to gather yourself first if you wanted to get anything else done.

Now alone in the workstation, Daryl snatched up his catch from this morning and headed out.

~~

"You did what? Pookie you gotta listen to the girl." Carol sat down next to him and snatched the cigarette from his fingers. "You know you disrespected her life's work by now following her rules in her own shop, right?"

"I'on get why tha's even important anymore. We gotta eat, tha's all." Daryl's annoyed grumbles did nothing good it seemed as Carol continued to scold him like he was a child. "Did you for one second maybe think this work is all she has left to hold onto her old world self?"

"Cept this ain't the old world no more. She's waistin' time doin' all tha extra shit."

Carol was up and at the front door by now, putting out the cigarette in one of many ashtrays there. "Alright, up with you. You're apologizing with me right now."

The two took off to your shop but found no one there. Daryl's half finished rabbit still out in the open on the table while the deer was gone. "Ain't here. I'll head back tomorro--"

"No we're not. I know where she lives, come on." Carol practically pulled him along on the way to your place despite Daryl's protests.

You were working in your basement area when you heard a knock on the front door. "Come in!" Everyone who came to your place knew the door was unlocked and was free to come and find you, seeing you were either cooking, working on lounging when you kept the front door open.

"Hey, it's Carol! Heard about your hand, need some help around the house?" She needed an excuse to get an answer and find out where you were, so when you called back she knew to head downstairs.

Meanwhile Daryl just stared around to keep his mind busy. He found rabbit skins from prey he brought in wrapped around a pair of boots. He recognized the fur seeing it was a rare color. Further into your livingroom there was a deer pelt draped over the back of your couch. Also caught by him. The white spots over the back had one small flaw from where his bolt had struck right on a white dot. He remembered being proud of his aim for a minute that day.

"Daryl, come on." Carol's whisper-yell had him roll his eyes and as he passed your coatrack he noticed the hooks were all antler parts and the knives laying in the basket on the hallway table had bone handles.

So that's why you were so angry when he snapped the rabbit's leg and skinned the deer so carelessly. You did really use everything.

The two walked down the stairs to your workshop, Carol up front with Daryl following.

"Oh wow," Carol's exclaimation had you laugh. "Yeah, I get that a lot." You stood with your back turned, struggling to hang a piece of skin.

"Here, lemme help ya." Daryl's gruff voice was suddenly right behind you and you spooked, letting go of the pelt but Daryl caught it just in time, draping it over the wire. "Like tha?" His hands stayed up there and adjusted it to your liking, having stepped back to watch him and give Carol a questioning look. She just shrugged and gestured at the man who was again staring around the room. "What brings you here?"

Daryl looked at everything except you, he knew he'd lose all ability to speak if he did. Hell, he already had a difficulty getting his words out now seeing how wrong he was for not listening to you. "Came ta say sorry." He stared at the basket of furs labeled 'Donate'. "Shoulda known better than ta get angry. 'N I get why ya work thr way ya do now." Next to the basket sat a crate filled with thick, sturdy bones labeled 'blacksmith'.

You nodded and gave him an option. "Come back to the shop tomorrow. I'll have tou clean up that deer skin you almost ruined and you're following my teachings. I'll forgive you for wasting the rabbit."

Daryl chewed at his thumb, the other hand stuffed in his pocket and fidgeting with the fabric inside. "Yeah, alright." He nodded and looked over at Carol who had the brightest smile on her face. One that screamed victory.

"We'll get out of your hair, I'll bring by some lunch tomorrow at your shop." Carol waved on her way up, and just as Daryl was about to follow her you quickly spun around to grab something. "Oh, here." You held out a thin knife wrapped in leather, a small engraving of Hilltop's blacksmith on the handle. "I saw you took the rabbits, so if you haven't prepped them yet you can try this one. They're great for smaller animals."

He stumbled over his thanks as he accepted the knife and quickly headed out after Carol.

~~

You were back at work early the next morning, painkillers and a small breakfast in your system already and hoping to finish that damn deer. It still proved a challenge to get it from the cooler onto the workbench but you managed eventually, just before Daryl came in.

"Mornin'." Hid gruff voice sounded through the workplace as he rounded the corner and placed the knife from yesterday on the table. "Thanks fer lettin' me borrow it. Worked like a charm."

You picked up the knife and held it out to him again, only to recieve a questioning grunt in return. "It was a gift. To keep."

Daryl never got gifts. Everything he had was scavenged and well taken care of for longer use these days. It felt weird to keep it but he thanked you again and pocketed it.

Meanwhile you had grabbed the deer skin and laid it out where he'd be working. "Look here, I'll show you how to clean this up and you'll go fix the rest, okay? It'll take a while but it'll be worth it." Daryl stepped up to you and observed the way you took the knife to the uneven spots of skin and carefully smoothed it all out. The precision in your work was impressive to say the least. "How long've ya been doin' this?"

You dropped a cut off piece of meat into a plastic container and thought back to the old world. "I guess ever since my parents thought I was old enough to handle knives." You held the tool out to the hunter and watched him take it from you. "Your turn. I'll be hopefully finishing that deer so just ask whatever, whenever."

You were lucky a lot of the cutting could be done onehanded, and holding back pieces was okay enough to do with your wrist or hold something down with your elbow. But now that you had all the easy access meats off and seperated you ran into a problem.

"Fuck.." You needed help. The same kind of help that had you kick him out yesterday.

"Sup? Need hands?" He was at your side in a second, waiting for your instructions.

"I need to take off the ribs but I can't." You leaned aside to point around the carcass. "If you can press down here, and there." Daryl followed your instructions and put pressure on the spots you pointed out. "Then I can take this here apart." Your movements were followed and suddenly it was way too hot in your always cold workplace. Yesterday you'd be happy if he decided thr Kingdom was a better home for him but now that he apologized and proved to better himself after your misunderstanding you were back to being the lovesick puppy Abraham had made you out to be when he brought you home after the infirmary visit.

With how Daryl held the spot clear and open you had to get close to chop through the bone and separate it all in workable bits.

"Can I take one a'those later? Michonne asked ta cook fer her kids cuz she's out 'n Carol's off ta Kingdom--" "Throw the kids an old world barbeque! I'll come help. I'm sure you're skilled in roasting over an open fire with how much you traveled." The excitement was clear in your voice, and the sudden compliments and offers of gifts and assistance had him nervously fidgeting. But thinking about having a fun experience with the kids instead of just cooking and having dinner sounded way better than his original plan, so he agreed.

"Ya got supplies ta fix tha' in half a day?"

~~

The two of you cleaned up after finishing thr needed work and while you carried the prepped meats, Daryl had the bowl firepit on a kart together with the metal rack to hang over it. Yeah, he lived in a community now but he never guessed he'd be carrying around a whole barbeque setup like he was getting ready to throw a party in the old world. "Gotta drop by tha' house fer a sec, get Jude 'n RJ."

After he got the kids and you had everything set up Daryl got the fire started while you made a quick pantry run and dug through Daryl's kitchen for anything to add to the meals.

You brought whatever you found and set it on the side of the porch steps, keeping a path to the house cleared and sat yourself down in the front lawn as you watched uncle Daryl in action, letting the kids toss wood onto the fire and poke at it with a stick but making sure they kept their distance and wouldn't touch the hot metal.

It was heartwarming to see him laugh and have fun with them and watched him speak quetly to the kids with a finger pointed your way before the two came running towards you.

"Daryl says the fire's good for food! Can we put some on the thing?" Two pairs of big, begging eyes stared at you and saying no would be the worst so of course you allowed them, under surveillance and with an assisting hand. "Alright, pick something you wanna eat first and put it on a plate, Daryl will take it to the fire and I'l helf you put it on the rack, okay?"

A chime of "Okay!" baely left them before they were at the collection of prepared meats where you and Daryl joined them in picking.

While Daryl roasted the food over the fire you were tasked go keep the kids busy, but wirh hoe much they loved chatting about everything and anything it was an easy task.

The whole evening was fun and food and family and it reminded you of everything you missed in this new world.

Everything was good in this moment, especially when you heard a little exchange between uncle and niece.

"Uncle Daryl? Can we have more dinners with her? But also mom and aunt Carol next time." You watched Daryl look towards you for a moment before turning back to Judith. "'Course, she's teachin' me ta prepare food so we can do this with e'ryone if ya want. But!" He raised his hand and pointed at RJ, who came over to him too now. "Yer gonna be the ones askin' folk ta bring food too, so e'ryone has somethin' ta eat, 'kay?"

The two happily nodding kids proved that your time in the community just got a lot more fun.

Now, after the kids were long brought to bed you and Daryl stayed around the fire. Having taken the meat rack off and set asidr you were just relaxing and picking away at the leftovers.

"So," you started, watching the flames in front of you. "That community barbeque plan of yours, it sounded amazing especially how you brought it over to the kids. But, aren't you afraid it'll drain recources too quick?"

Daryl shrugged it off. "Maybe. But those kids'll make folks keep stuff aside fer it." The idea of those two running around the place collecting people brought a smile to his face. "'Sides, I ain't wastin' meat no more with yer lessons tha' I hope ya will keep givin' me."

Oh. He wanted to stay? At the shop? With you? You were pleasantly shocked with that news. "What? Ofcourse I'll teach you. But only of you promise to take me out hunting when my hand's okay again."

He let out a breathy laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I'd love ta have ya around."

You stretched and laid down in the grass, looking up at the night sky.

"S'gonna be fun."

[green-alien-turdz]

do u have any hcs for what the m4 would look like in middle school? 👀👀👀

The same, just with that awful middle school flare.

Headcanon time tho bcuz I'm insane n need to explain the shit happenin here (tw for sh n sewerslide attempts. but if you follow my bs this is nothin new)

Cartman: Bro was at PEAK loudmouth n fuck everyone shit, but at this point all mfs were pretty sick of it n he got into fights on the daily. Not to say he wasn't askin for it, he actually got a big kick outta pissin people off (nothin new as we know). He was pretty much doin this bcuz he didn't really care n couldn't process a lot of shit he was feelin so he would just take it out on everyone else.

Kenny: Overworked, stressed, n not fuckin blessed. If he wasn't at school, he'd be at city wok, which he was grateful for the cash, but it took a toll on him n his schooling. He was just tryin to take care of him n Karen as he watched Kevin just get worse n worse with the people he was hangin around. Conflict at home had him stressin big time. Catch them z's whenever the fuck he could.

Kyle: Bro almost never changes appearance wise due to insecurities. The scratches on his face are from a meltdown he had where he lost complete control of his actions n started hittin n clawin at himself (managed to convince his parents it happened in his sleep bcuz no one was home when the breakdown happened). This was a rather common thing to happen, seein as normal teenage horomones, mental illness, n eds are like the worst fuckin combo.

Stan: Legit the worst time of his life, both home n mentally. Around this time where he'd get super drunk n high to try n numb out everythin, but that would only start more shit of course. He felt completely caged in n stuck in life n in this cycle of bs. One night he spiraled pretty hard n impulsively tried to hang himself with an old belt. He pretty quickly freaked out n managed to get somethin under him so he could get back out. Uhh n misc. red hair bcuz he had started dyin his hair lots of colours (but usually red) for Crimson Dawn around this time.

[donelywell]

If your taking requests, I liked to see your sonic and tails if they were closer to their actual animal size difference.

January 9 2024

Doodle Request #5!

You have no idea what you've done. This doodle request has made me spiral into making my own self indulgent au.

I've never more times in my life used 'cause I want to' as an excuse for something. This entire au is just self indulgent fluff. At first, I looked at the request and went 'oh, they probably don't realize how small hedgehogs are or how big baby foxes are.' and then I was like 'okay, but Mobian'. AND THEN I was like 'okay, but it'd be funny if Sonic was like- almost an adult in this drawing.' and it just spiraled into this. I want to make so many more doodles of this au FUCK.

So everything isn't set in stone yet, aside form their ages I think.

Amy is 19, she's studying to become a teacher. She works at a daycare.

Sonic is 22, he picks up odd jobs where ever he travels in his van.

Tails is 8, he also picks up odd jobs, but more mechanically centered ones (and way less jobs because Sonic will not allow the kit to overwork himself).

Knuckles is 23, he guards the Master Emerald still, but he also is a pro at arts and crafts (mostly pottery).

I know I wrote 'plane' in the doodles (if you can even read them, my handwriting is a nightmare there), but I was originally thinking van that Tails later modifies into a plane-van combo.

Do they have powers? Yes. Because I want them to. Are there magical gemstones? Yes. Because I want there to. Is Eggman trying to take over the world? Eh, I don't think so. I like chill vibes, plus how is Sonic gonna beat up a Motobug if he isn't even as tall as the tire? Why are they wearing clothes? Because I want them to! Why is everyone but Tails aged up? BECAUSE I WANT THEM TO (and it's funny to me).

Sonic and Tails live in a van (that he stole) and travel around. Sure, Sonic has super speed (he's not afraid of showing it off), but he just likes driving (he had to diy an entire system just so he could drive). Plus, it's fortunate that he stole that van, because carrying around supplies needed for a toddler already twice your size when you met them is definitely not light.

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day twenty nine

prompt: alpha pairing: lando/oscar a/n: snippet from the pregnant lando fic i'm writing, which TOTALLY ocunts for this prompt because it has alpha!oscar lmao

Life is so much better wrapped up in the buttery soft fabric of Oscar’s hoodie. Lando gets through three other admittedly boring meetings and an hour long conversation with Zak without any more bouts of nausea, although by the end of it he does feel exhausted, and his chest has this itchy painful feeling that’s getting really hard to ignore.

He contemplates just going home, but it’s not like there’s anything waiting for him there, so he holes himself up in one of the tiny flexible workspaces that are dotted around the MTC, and opens his laptop to stare mindlessly at some stuff the PR team asked him to look at.

Here’s the thing he did not consider. The flexible workspace area is pretty open plan. So if anyone were to walk by, they could see Lando sitting there quite easily. Anyone, really. Someone like, well. Oscar, for example.

“Uh,” Oscar says, roughly three meters away from Lando’s little table. “I, uh. Lando?”

Lando looks up from his laptop, dropping the hoodie string he’d been chewing on from his mouth. “Oscar, hey. ‘Sup?”

Oscar, meanwhile, is just kind of staring at Lando, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “You, uh. The uh,” he starts. Lando needs to have a talk with management, later. Clearly they’re overworking Oscar, based on the way he’s spacing out right now. “Hoodie?” Oscar eventually manages to stutter out.

Lando’s blood turns cold as he suddenly realizes what the problem is. The hoodie. He’s still wearing Oscar’s hoodie. Oscar was never meant to find out, but now he definitely has, with the way he’s staring at Lando like he’s some kind of alien. “Fuck,” Lando says, frantically wedging himself from behind the table. The second he comes closer to Oscar, Oscar takes a step back, takes a deep breath in through his mouth. “Fuck I am so sorry, it was just-“

And yeah. How is he going to explain this one? He can just lie and say he was cold, but then why. Why would he grab Oscar’s hoodie and not one of the million McLaren hoodies readily available? Besides, does he really want to lie to Oscar? Oscar, who’s never been anything but honest with him, has always treated him with kindness?

“Fuck,” Lando says again, “Really, this is. This is very embarrassing for me, actually, but uh. Your scent? It kind of helps? With the uh… Nausea and shit. I realized yesterday, when you helped me when I was puking and so uh. The hoodie was just there and I… Well. But you can have it back? Here let me-“

“Don’t,” Oscar says, almost like it gets ripped out of him, the second Lando tries to wrestle his arm out of one of the hoodie sleeves. “You don’t. You can keep it on. If it helps.”

He’s bright red, not making any eye contact with Lando, clearly uncomfortable, but. But he said. If he didn’t want Lando to wear his hoodie he would…. Right?

Lando tucks his arm back into the sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “This is like, super weird.”

Oscar shakes his head. “It’s fine. I know smells can be like, weird, when you’re pregnant, so it’s… I get it.”

[grapementos]

ugly truth

pt 2 of this. pt 3 here.

aged up bakugo x reader

cw: descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals

a month had passed since you walked out on katsuki, walked out on your life, your home--everything you knew.

a number of your friends, along with plenty of katsuki's (who were mutual friends at this point), had reached out to you, offering a place to stay.

mina, kirishima, denki, and sero in particular were constantly checking on you and shooting you texts in case you needed to talk.

you knew they meant well, for they were bakugo's closest friends and knew how mean he could be. occasionally, you spent a night with them, the five of you coming together to watch a movie or play a game.

however, you knew they talked to bakugo too, so you remained cautious and never overshared--especially to kirishima. he was bakugo's right hand, his best friend since u.a.

there was no way you were going to show any semblance of missing bakugo, not around him.

once you found your own place, you'd distanced yourself from them, avoiding overstaying your welcome.

after they helped you move into your apartment and yet again reminded you, "if you need anything, we're here! really, anything at all!" you settled into your new space, suddenly feeling so alone.

for the first time in what felt like eternity, there was pure silence.

and then there wasn't.

the loudness, the static in your mind overpowered everything, several emotions washing over you like tidal waves. each wave was bigger than the last, merciless as it dragged you under, filling your nose and lungs with doubt, regret, sadness, anger.

"fuck," you whispered, pulling a pillow to your chest, "fuck."

you sobbed into the pillow, draining yourself of every ounce of strength and independence you thought you had.

you and bakugo had been together for three years--three years that you spent falling asleep, knowing you'd wake up to his face in the morning, three years of cooking meals large enough for two people, three years of habitually closing the shower curtain after your shower because it irked him when it was left open, three years of keeping the sodas on the left side of the fridge and water on the right.

three years. how can you unlearn three years worth of habits? let go of three years worth of comfort?

i can't do this, i can't. i can't be alone.

your subconscious was destroying you, and you hated that you felt like it was right. how could you survive alone?

your chest tightened, and the room spun and spun as the oxygen left your lungs too quick, overworking your circulatory and respiratory system.

"i need him-" you choked out, grasping desperately at nothing, nothing that could help you ground yourself.

a wave of dread rolled through you, sending your body into complete and total panic. just as you moved to stand, to grab your phone and call whoever, you felt a sense of airiness before your body tapped out, sending you straight back down to the floor.

-

"yeah, they're okay." a pause, "no, i just found them like this. i didn't know what else to do."

you groaned quietly, slowly blinking your eyes open to a stark, off-white ceiling. the blinding light made you regret it immediately, not to mention the pounding headache, swollen eyes, and nasty-feeling skin.

"y/n? you awake?" you recognized mina's voice from right beside you.

"yeah, god," you mumbled, hesitantly cracking an eye open, "hospital?"

"yeah. sorry, i just.." she trailed off, looking down at her shoes, "i found a pair of shoes you left at my place and wanted to give them back. then i found you just.. out cold."

you scrunched your eyes as you tried to remember anything before the onyx pit you were dropped into but thinking just hurt your head more.

"kirishima's on his way. he's super worried, you know." she chuckled, grabbing your hand, "he hates hospitals."

you squeezed her hand, finally managing to open your eyes fully, "me too. they stink."

she laughed, scooting her chair closer to your bed, "do you remember what happened?"

you tried to concentrate, pondering what you were doing. obviously, you had just moved in and..

"oh." you sighed, suddenly feeling stupid. of course, you'd been crying like the damn baby katsuki said you were, "i think i was just anxious. you know, new place and all."

"you could've stayed living with me, you know. i don't mind your company at all."

you shook your head, "i have to," your voice cracked a little, but you hid it with a cough, "i have to move past this. get on with my life."

"but there's no rush, y/n, you know--"

"where are they?" your body stiffened at the voice echoing off the linoleum and into your ears, triggering the code red alarm inside your head.

suddenly, the door slammed open and in walked a terrified looking katsuki and a guilty kirishima.

you scooted yourself back into the plastic barrier of the bed, clenching the bars, "what the hell is he doing here?"

"y/n, are you okay? what happened?" katsuki approached the bed, inspecting you for any injuries.

"get the hell away from me!" you winced at the pull on the iv in your arm as you moved impossibly farther away from him.

the heart monitor beside you was picking up, your blood pressure climbing higher and higher the closer he got.

mina stepped between the two of you before he could say anything, "kiri, what the hell? why would you bring him?"

"you were on speaker in my car when you told me, and we were together!" he explained frantically, "he didn't listen to me."

she shook her head, pushing katsuki towards the door, "you shouldn't be here. they don't wanna see you."

he looked past her, pleading at you with his eyes, "please, y/n, i'm so sorry, okay? i need you, okay? i need you, and i need to know that you're okay."

"y/n?" mina looked back at you, silently asking what she should do.

"i don't want to see him." you looked away, unable to look in his eyes for fear of falling victim to their lure.

without hesitation, mina ushered him to the exit despite his protests, almost getting him completely out when there was a thud on the linoleum.

katsuki was on his knees, his arm outstretched above his head as he clutched something in his fist.

for a moment, you expected him to set off an explosion or anything of the crazy sort.

you flinched as he opened his fist, fully expecting to be blown to bits.

instead, the fluorescent lights bounced off the shine of what you were 101% sure was an engagement band.

the other two in the room gasped, kirishima releasing his quirk that had instinctively taken over the front of his body.

"i was gonna ask you," he choked out, "before i quit the agency. but then everything went south and, and i--i just, i lost sight, y/n, and i'm so sorry. i'll be better, i swear it."

your hand covered your mouth, though you were speechless anyways. instinctively, you felt anger. how could he do this to you? here? now? after you'd wound up in the hospital because of him?

"how dare you," you spat, tears welling up in your eyes, "how dare you do this to me? do you enjoy hurting me, huh? tearing me apart just to build me back up again? do you get off on that--that glory?"

he was crying too, his eyes pleading, "i don't wanna hurt you. i'll go to therapy, i'll change, i swear. whatever you want me to do, i'll do it right now."

you swallowed hard around the ball in your throat, "leave. leave me alone and stay the hell out of my life."

hospital staff came flooding into the room before katsuki could respond, ushering the three of them out, "i'm sorry, this hospital has low tolerance for commotion like this. security will see you out."

you had never been more grateful that you were in a hospital, relief flooding your body as you turned onto your side, letting the tears run down your cheeks.

it wasn't fair. he knocked you about a hundred tiny steps back, considering you'd only taken a hundred tiny steps in the past month. your heart was throbbing, and a large part of you couldn't help but question your decision.

what if he really would change, get better? he was the love of your life. no one had ever loved you better.

extremely stressed, you found yourself questioning whether you'd made the right decision.

wow, i was super surprised by the amount of support. it was meant to be a standalone, but now i’m pretty sure there will be a 3rd part. thank you so much for the support! 🩷

tags: @blackout-ice-biohazard @survivorofmath @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @odessa-is-my-queen @firesmokeandashes @tsukikoxo @valentineshiftz

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: I have so many ideas for this series but I can't get too carried away otherwise its gonna end up longer than a book lmaooo, also super random but this idea came to me from rewatching Trent and Robbo’s wingmen episodes and in one of them he goes, “team bonding!” verryyy heavily in his Scouse accent lol

Warnings: fluff, mentions of being overworked but nothing too harsh, general stress, this is a cute one ok ur welcome

Word Count: 2.7k words (10 mins reading avg)

...

“Why you so sour for?”

You glanced up to see your sister plopping on to the sofa, grabbing the TV remote off of the glass table situated in front of you. Her expression was curious, eyebrows raised in an exaggerated arc. You’d forgotten you’d even put a movie on.

Closing your laptop, you ran your palm over the cool steel surface.

“No reason. It’s nearly time to go to bed, what are you doing?” You watched as she navigated the TV menu, opening the ITV app and clicking on Love Island.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me you like that stuff.”

She smirked, not taking her eyes off the screen as the latest episode began to play. “No one likes it, it’s just funny as fuck.”

“Hey, why do we need to swear?”

“For expression,” she replied with a shrug, as if that was a valid reason.

“Express yourself in other ways.”

“Like what?” She challenged, finally looking at you.

You paused, a little stumped. “The world is your oyster, go and find some.”

She snorted, clearly unimpressed with your wisdom. You hoisted yourself off of the couch, tucking your laptop back into your work bag and zipping it up.

Kaia paused the show, turning so her knees were on the sofa, looking over the backrest to see you better. “Fine, but that doesn’t answer why you’re in such a mood.”

“It’s just work,” you admitted, leaning against the counter. Your eyes traced the outlines of your sister’s old drawings hung on the wall. “A lot more pressure than I’m used to.”

Her eyes lit up with youthful curiosity. “How’s the job going? Met any really fit guys yet?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Is that all you care about?”

“It’s important! C’mon, spill,” she insisted, leaning forward.

You sighed, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “The job is good. Stressful, but good. As for fit guys.. there's.. I don’t know, a few? I’m there to work, not flirt.”

“Sure, sure,” she teased.

You chuckled, tossing a freshly washed blanket you’d just pulled out of the dryer at her. “Oo, thanks,” she said, catching it with a grin.

You rolled your eyes as she sprawled out on the couch, the music of the show coming to life once again.

You pulled the rest of the sheets from the dryer, shoving them into the laundry basket to fold in the morning. As you wiped down the counters and finished the dishes in the sink, your mind wandered again.

Arne, Lee, and the club had all been incredibly supportive since your arrival, but the internal pressure you’d carried from university - to be the best, to never fail - was fading. Wataru, Conor, and Curtis were all doing great.

From your reports, you were instructed to make Trent the priority, at least to gather enough information for a new evaluation.

But how could you do that with a player who seemingly wanted nothing to do with you?

“Y/N?” Your sister’s soft voice calling your name pulled you out of your trance.

“Yeah?” You replied, turning to face the back of the couch.

The show paused again. A beat of silence hung in the air.

“No one’s giving you a hard time, are they?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned, “of course not. Why would you think that?”

“We’re pretty notorious for being hated.” Sadness poked through the tone in her voice.

“Nobody hates us, Kaia. And no one is giving me a hard time at work, I promise.” You tried to sound reassuring. She was a kid and she meant well, of course she did, but she didn’t need to know the full truth. She was your sister, not a therapist.

“Okay. Cause you do know I’ll fuck ‘em up, right?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in amusement. She picked her head up to let you sit then rested it in your lap. You pulled her hairs away from her face, combing them back with your fingers.

“With your swears?” You teased.

“I got a mean punch."

“Which I hope isn’t being put to use, thank you very much.”

“I’m an angel, really.” Which she tried to pull off in an innocent way that really didn’t suit her.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sceptical but smiling.

She chuckled, turning her head to face the TV again.

“Come on, let’s watch this shit show.” You said playfully.

“I thought you said no swearing.” She retorted matter-of-factly.

“That rule doesn't apply to 25 and above people.”

“Let me guess, when you turn 26, that rule’s gonna be extended by a year?” Kaia asked, her lips curling upwards.

“Precisely.” You smiled down at her as she rolled her eyes, playing the show.

Your smile faltered almost immediately. You subconsciously continued smoothing over Kaia’s hair, but your mind was plagued with thoughts about work, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, about him.

...

The first two matches of Liverpool’s season had come and gone in a flash. But, despite in how much of a blur it passed, the level of work every day only surmounted the work of the days before.

But you could take it. If you couldn’t handle psychology, you’d probably be useless at everything else.

The new week began, and the first thing you spotted in the mountain of emails was an update. Your cabinet for the office had arrived, courtesy of the club, who were happy to cover the costs once you'd submitted your request.

You swivelled your chair to face the desk phone, dialling reception downstairs. The phone rang twice before Annika's cheerful voice answered.

"Hello," she said brightly.

"Hey, it's Y/N from upstairs. I got an email saying my cabinet had arrived. Am I okay to collect it now?" You asked, glancing around your office and imagining where the new cabinet would go.

"Oh, don't worry," Annika replied with a smile in her voice. "We'll send someone up to drop it off for you."

"Really? It's honestly no bother," you said, feeling a bit guilty about causing extra work.

"No, I insist. They’ll be up shortly," she reassured you.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," you said, a note of relief in your voice.

"No worries!" Annika chirped.

You hung up the phone, feeling a bit lighter. Come to think of it, you really didn’t fancy carrying a ton of weight up the stairs and potentially embarrassing yourself to any bystanders.

Once you’d gone through your emails, creating your to-do list for the day, you patiently waited for your cabinet to come.

But it didn’t.

You tried to put it to the back of your mind, focusing on ticking off the first two items on your list before your first session. Yet, even as you checked them off, you found yourself glancing at the door, expecting the cabinet to arrive at any moment.

An hour passed, then another, and still no sign of the delivery. The anticipation was starting to wear on you.

You glanced at the clock situated on your desk, wondering if you’d be able to make it back in time for your session with Conor.

But just as you were ready to leave, there was a knock on your door. You walked over to open it, expecting only the Irishman. There he was, but also holding a large brown box with an outline of your cabinet on the front.

“Uh-” You couldn’t register what was happening.

“Mind if we come in? Don't fancy holding this all day.”

We.

You realised you hadn’t responded as Trent lifted his head to stare at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” You opened the door, standing off to the side. You allowed them to come in and they placed the box upright against the wall.

"Annika mentioned she'd send someone up, I didn't think she meant the players." Conor chuckled, motioning to his trusted helper.

"Yeah, well, Brian was going to bring it up but he got busy so reception asked if we could help. We were coming up anyways," he explained.

“Oh. Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice carrying a hint of genuine gratitude. You glanced at Trent, and a heavy silence ensued.

“Yeah, whatever,” Trent muttered, his tone dripping with indifference, leaving almost immediately. You let out a quiet sigh, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Conor, who had been observing the exchange with a wry smile, exhaled through his nose in mild amusement.

“He’s warming up to you,” he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smirk.

“Aw, you really think so?”

“Sure,” he replied with a grin.

“Sit down,” you said, gesturing to the chairs. You both laughed softly as you walked over to shut the door.

Yet, an unsettling frustration gnawed at you from within. Trent had always been distant, but after weeks of being here, he still showed no signs of letting his guard down. You were no stranger to the challenges of being a psychologist, it's not like this was your first job.

But in the past few days, self-doubt had crept in. You wondered if you were even fit for it; maybe the pressures of working for one of the most prestigious football clubs in the country were finally catching up to you and kicking you in the ass.

You shook your head, feigning a smile as you returned to your desk, starting your session.

...

“Is this upside down?” You muttered to yourself, flipping the instructions around again.

What use were instructions if they had no text under them?

You debated calling your dad, but the lecture you’d receive about the hours of manual labour he used to put you through every time a new piece of furniture arrived at the house was not worth it.

“Okay. Wood, screws, knob, cabinet. Perfect.” It was only a small one, so you weren’t worried about the height of it per se, just worried about everything else.

You slumped onto the floor, surrounded by longer and shorter pieces of wood with a bag of screws and one handy screwdriver that you were currently twirling between your fingers.

Just as you were about to try again, a voice broke through your concentration.

“What are you doing?”

You gasped, your hand instinctively going to your chest as the paper floated to the ground.

“Oh my God,” you exclaimed, breathless and startled. “Can you knock next time?”

“I did knock,” Trent replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Did you?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to recall when you heard a knock reverberate through your office.

“No.” He admitted.

You huffed, feeling a mix of annoyance and embarrassment at falling for his joke.

“Funny.” You mumbled, shaking your head.

To your surprise, he plopped onto the sofa situated by the side of the wall, near the door. Your eyebrows raised slightly.

Trent, sitting on your sofa, in your office, willingly? This was new. Only today, you were doubting yourself if you’d ever be able to get through to him and yet here he was.

You didn’t want to overanalyse the situation but it was hard to ignore the significance of it. Maybe he was finally starting to let his guard down, even if just a little.

There was a strange combination of nervousness and relief running riot inside of you.

Rather than drawing attention to it, you chose to stay focused on the task at hand, wary of saying anything that might reinforce his emotional walls.

“I’m trying to build a cabinet, if you must know.” You didn’t want to sound as annoyed as you were - not necessarily by the man you were conversing with, but more so by the wooden contraption that was puzzling you to your core.

He peered over the armrest, then slowly returned to his original position. “Making a lot of progress, it seems.”

“How nice of you to state the obvious,” you replied calmly, but your mind was racing.

“It’s late, how come you’re still here?” You asked, trying to make conversation. He just shrugged, pulling out his phone from his trouser pocket.

You gave a half-smile. Even if he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, he was still here, and that’s what mattered to you.

Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed by, and you were officially ready to give up. Resting your head against your desk, still seated on the floor, you were on the verge of admitting defeat and calling your dad.

Your attention was diverted by a soft creak from the sofa frame. Trent stood up, and you looked up at him, squinting as the ceiling light shone brightly.

“You heading out?” You asked, your voice tinged with resignation.

He took a small step to the right, blocking the light from hitting your eyes. He glanced around, as if debating something.

His mouth parted slightly.

“Move over.”

What?

“Huh?” you said, bewildered.

He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, motioning to the pile of wood still stacked in various directions. “Move.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” He replied blandly, yet still entertaining your conversation. A few weeks ago, he would’ve murdered you.

You glanced down at your cabinet, which was rather resembling modern art, then back up at him.

“Are you suggesting women can’t build things?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He tilted his head downward, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Women can. It’s just you that can’t. Wanna disagree?”

Your pressed your bottom lip up to your top, as if you were actually considering the idea. “I’d love to argue, but you’re lucky I’m too tired right now. Maybe come back tomorrow and we can pick up where we left off.”

“Move over or I’m leaving,” he said, a touch more firmly.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” You chuckled.

You scooted over, making room for Trent to sit beside you. He settled on the floor, crossing his legs. There was a fair amount of distance between you.

You found yourself stealing glances at him as he took a look at the instructions a few times, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for his unexpected help.

His presence was a welcome distraction.

You couldn’t deny you were entirely useless as he separated the pieces, lining them up to get a full look at everything, ensuring nothing was absent.

“Screwdriver?” He asked for quietly and you cast a quick look around, spotting it underneath a plank of wood.

“Here.” His fingers brushed yours as he took it from you, a touch that you were acutely aware of but one he didn’t seem to think twice about.

Whenever your knees brushed while adjusting the cabinet or while holding it in place, you could feel the warmth of his proximity, which only heightened your perception of him.

After some time, the cabinet stood completed. You couldn’t help but smile proudly at the result.

Trent glanced at your beaming face and quickly looked away, as if unsure how to react. The fleeting moments of physical contact had created a soft tension in the air.

You tilted your head, deciding to tease him while you still had the chance. “Does it look a bit bent or is it just me?”

He barely looked at the cabinet, already ready to fire a response back. “It’s just you.”

You scoffed, your eyes meeting as he extended the screwdriver back toward you. You swallowed as you took it, another brush of hands.

It was brief and unexpected but he too registered it this time. He briefly tensed but stood up quickly after.

You just about scrambled to your feet after him, placing your screwdriver on your desk.

Before he could leave, you called out, “thank you.”

He turned to give you a simple nod, brushing off your gratitude.

“I mean it. Not just for building this,” you gestured toward the cabinet, “but for being here. I’m always happy to see you.”

A silence befell you both, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable as it had before.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how come you came here?”

He thought about his answer for a second, wanting to correctly word it.

“Saw you struggling through the door. Thought you were finally having a heart attack or something.”

You paused for a second, slowly nodding your head. “Couldn’t miss it, huh?”

At that, Trent’s lips curved into a genuine smile as he looked away from your eyes, the first smile you’d seen from him that was actually for you.

It was a subtle, upward curl, softening his usually serious expression.

You mirrored his smile, it was hard not to. Perhaps you’d leaned forward, or your shoulders had finally relaxed, but you weren’t focused on the specifics.

“See you round, psychologist.”

You hummed, afraid that even if you opened your mouth, nothing would come out.

You watched him walk away, your eyes falling to the cabinet against the wall.

Seeing him smile, just smile at you, was a moment you wouldn’t forget so soon. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing a flood of relief and hope you’d nearly given up on.

But before you could think about it further, your phone buzzed. It was Kaia, asking when you’d be home.

You hadn’t even realised what time it was.

“Shit.”

…

Part 5

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm so glad you like it! Honestly, I'm pretty jealous as well. Though, I don't doubt he has the white noise generator and uses it on more than just those trips. Could you imagine Bruce and the other Bats going to the Supers, Clark, Kon, Kara, and Jon (who if I remember correctly has the best ears out of all of them) and when asked to track him down by sound, all of them are just like, "Red Robin? Oh no we can't do that." and when asked why, Clark gets nervous and says, "well. None of us have ever been able to hear his heart beat. We don't know what tech or magic he uses but *none* of us have ever been able to hear his heart. Not since he was 15. I asked you one time why I couldn't hear him and you just hummed at me!"

Meanwhile panic is rising in not just the hero community, but also the villain one. Red Robin has a *lot* of connections and if someone took or heaven forbid killed him? The Gothem Rouges remember what happened when the second Robin died, they know how bad Batman got. Now the Robin who saved them from him is gone? And now Nightwing and Red Hood and Spoiler and all the rest are on a Hunt, getting more violent like Batman did? Oh no, they are all going into hiding until this blows over.

Then there's also the villains connected to members of Young Justice. The Flash's Rouges Gallery hears that one of the Mini Speedsters is in a grief spiral and could end up seriously hurting them because one of his best friends has gone missing and is presumed dead? Fuck No. They are keeping their noses clean until it's done. So are the people who tend to antagonize Metropolis because Kon is *not* holding back. He grabbed Matallo and used his TTK to make him fall into thousands of pieces and then just stared down at him with a cold look of anger before leaving. Dr Light when to the ER when he tried to mess with the Teen Titans while both Dick and Damian were still on call and Tim was missing.

On day four of Tim being missing, Damian's head suddenly snaps up and he says, "I need to check a tracker." and the rest of the Bats follow him to the bat computer. When asked what he is doing, Damian admits, "a few years ago when I still hated Timothy, I put a tracker inside of his favorite camera, which he just so happened to bring with him on his trip. It may still be there and if he has his camera-" a few moments later, there is a ping on the screen showing the tracker is o the move, currently crossing the boarder from Kentucky into West Virginia. Tim has no idea what hell is coming for him, mostly because he figured that the Bats knew he did this every other month to unwind and relax. Traveling on a train for 4 to 6 days is his version of a vacation.

Glad for the add on. However, I think the angst reason for Tim "not having a heartbeat" would be because Kon died.

After Kon died, Tim created the machine to make sure no one else could hear his heartbeat (especially because Kon wasn't around for that anymore). When Kon came back, it was still a rough time for Tim. He was practically a feral and distrustful raccoon. Since he's still working on trusting people again, his heartbeat is still hidden (plus Kon hasn't brought it up, so Tim kind of forgot).

The stuff about the rogues is so true! That's why a few fanworks call Tim the "heart" of the batfam. I think all members play important roles and will similarly be missed. The heart comment is a cute nod to his role as a bridge and leash (he helped B obtain a larger support group and prevented him from killing people).

I like that this has Damian being the one to find out. Though Tim is grateful there's was a way for his family to find him while they were freaked out (he thought they knew about it), he's also exasperated at the tracker's existence. He probably pulls a prank on Damian for it.

Also, Tim 100% brings this incident back up with Bruce whenever the man complains about Tim's habit of overworking. He looks his father in the eyes and says, "The last time I took a vacation, you freaked out and mobilized the entire hero community to find me." They both know that's not what happened, but Tim is also not wrong.

[poppurini]

他们是在 。。。暧昧 ！？second edition.

content. what made your friends think you’re dating him

incl. deuce, jade, jamil & gn!reader ┊ first edition

note. deepest apologies to jamil stans i really tried

deuce spade

Yeeah. It’s so obvious. The first-year can’t even look at you without growing red or sputter nonsense, it’s cute actually. They’d think it’s only a crush but when you laugh and place a reassuring hand on top of his whenever he’s nervous? Yeeah. Everyone could tell it’s the day after feelings were confessed and reciprocated!

That’s not the only factor, though. You see, Deuce and his friend group are particularly loud (cough Ace Grim Sebek). I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody overheard them screaming about Deuce finally making a move or succeeding in asking you out. Also the way they IMMEDIATELY move to sit across or pull another chair just to let you sit beside Deuce is a dead giveaway. Jack’s the only one trying not to make this a big deal.

jade leech

People actually thought you made some type of contract with Octavinelle’s mischievous dorm head and fucked up some things within it when they saw Jade Leech, the equally infamous Octavinelle student around you all the time. They thought he was collecting debt from you! You know, always around you, leaving a little snack on your desk with a note containing who knows what grave threats in it, greeting you outside when class ends, all those notorious pressuring tactics. But you look…happy? When you see him? And Jade looks? Genuine? When he smiles at you? Definitely an unfamiliar sight.

The dots finally connected when you were given a limited edition pastry on the house during that time you visited Mostro Lounge with your friends. Seriously? Free? Octavinelle doesn’t just give out free stuff without some promoting. No, that man handed it to you just like that, told you to enjoy your stay. He didn’t even thought of giving your friends one! Look look, there it is. That super mischievous and mocking smile. Directed towards them but not you, is he courting you?

jamil viper

Jamil sighs when he realises he forgot his headphones back at your place. You needed help in one of the chapters and Kalim encouraged him greatly to aid you, giving him permission to leave his side. The study session went on late, both overworked students tired, and he bid goodbye forgetting his headphones. Now he actually has to listen to Floyd’s annoyingly high pitched voice and some of Ace’s not so intelligent comments during warmup. Until a voice that rings pleasantly in his ears was heard. “Jamil! You left this at my place- hm? Oh no worries! Thanks again with helping me with homework yesterday. I’ll see you later? Bye!” before you hurriedly rushed to your own club activity.

After giving you a wave, Jamil did a sharp turn, purposely avoiding the other basketball club members’ gaze. Left it? At your place? Riiight. Jamil’s not a bad person, but his hands are so full with making sure Kalim survives that no one thinks it’s possible for him to fish out time for another or even willing to. Definitely prompted some teasing brow wiggles and elbow nudges.

[loudstan]

Comforting Jisung

a/n: this is a little something I wrote for all those who kept checking on me and patiently waited! This scenario takes place after the dinner scene in moon makes no mistakes; Jisung feels a bit insecure and needs some reassurance. It's super short, but I hope you enjoy it!

warnings: angst, fluff, smut

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“Sorry, what was that?” You asked as you turned your chair around. 

Jisung, who had been patiently sitting on your bed while you typed on your laptop, cleared his throat.

“Doyoung hyung is getting married,” he mumbled a bit louder this time. His eyes met yours and then he quickly looked away.

“What?! When did that happen?”

Doyoung wasn’t what you would describe as a romantic man. He overworked himself, rarely talked about his relationship, and he didn’t seem eager to tie the knot. But you guessed this is what happens when you meet the right one.

Jisung shrugged, still looking at his feet.

“Oh, boy, can’t wait to tease him—,” you joked lightheartedly but Jisung wasn’t in the mood for jokes today.

“What’s so funny about marriage?” He asked. He sounded calm, but there was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Nothing,” you said. “But Doyoung being the one getting married is kinda funny…”

“What if it was me?”

You snorted, because why was he suddenly talking about marriage when he hadn’t even graduated college, but you regretted it as soon as you saw his wounded eyes widen.

“Ji—“

“It’s fine…”

“No, that’s not what I—“

“Can we please forget I said anything?”

“Not until we clear this up. Listen,” you stood up and walked towards the bed, stopping once you were standing in front of him. “I wasn’t laughing at you.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “Right. Just at the idea of marrying me.”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t like it,” you quickly assured him, sitting by his side.

“Then what is it?” He whispered. He was still hurt, but he was at least making eye contact now and he didn’t pull away when you reached for his hand, meaning he was more open to hear what you had to say.

“I just hadn’t thought about it before…,” you confessed, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Why not?” He asked softly, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it tenderly.

“Well,” you hesitated for a second, trying to find the right words. “Aren’t we still kinda young?”

Jisung sighed heavily and let go of your hand. “You mean I am young.”

“No, no, no!” You rebutted, grabbing his shoulders before he had the chance to get up. “I know I used to make a big deal out of it before, but I really don’t care anymore. This isn’t about your age. I’m still young too and we haven’t been together for that long—“

“It’s been long enough.”

“For marriage?” 

“Noona, I…” he stopped mid-sentence, groaned, and allowed his exhausted body to collapse entirely on your bed. He covered his face with his large hands and spoke with a defeated tone. “I’m serious about you…”

“I’m serious about you too,” you said, crawling towards him and gently pulling his hands from his reddened face.

“Then why don’t we just get married?” He asked hopefully.

“Just get married?” You echoed incredulously.

“Would you say yes if we’d been together for longer?”

“We can think about it when that day comes.”

“What day?!” He exclaimed, exasperated. “Why does there have to be a specific day? If we’re both serious about being together, then it doesn’t matter when we get married!”

“Then why can’t we wait and see?” You tried to reason.

“Fucking wait for what?!”

You stared at him in silence and saw the rush of emotions taking over him reflecting in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

“…This isn’t about marriage,” you finally understood there was something deeper. “What’s really bothering you?”

Jisung closed his eyes when your fingers caressed his face. “The other day Jeno said…” he trailed off.

“Yes? What did he say?” You encouraged him, but he shook his head, refusing to speak or open his eyes. 

You leaned down, even closer to him, and kissed his cheek. “Ji,” you called for him, peppering his face with gentle pecks. “What did he say?”

“I can’t bring myself to say it,” he whispered. “But since then I can’t stop thinking and worrying that maybe it was a lapse of judgment that made you agree to be mine. That one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m not what you want and you’ll leave me for... somebody else…”

You nodded even though his eyes were still closed and he couldn’t see you. So that’s why he was so moody: someone had reminded him of his biggest insecurity.

“Look at me, Jisung,” you pleaded.

He shook his head. He could feel a couple of tears sliding down his cheeks and he was afraid if he looked at you he would start sobbing uncontrollably.

“Please, Ji,” you whispered, pecking his lips. 

He still refused to open his eyes, but his lips parted slightly, inviting you to kiss him again. So you did. You molded your lips against his and kissed them agonizingly slowly. He sighed, chasing after your lips and deepening the kiss.

He was so weak for your kisses that he often lost track of what happened around him when you blessed him with one. And that’s how he didn’t even notice you had placed your knees on each side of his body, successfully straddling him. 

When you sat on top of him, the perfect amount of pressure against his groin made him finally open his eyes and gasp.

“Noona!” His voice cracked as his hands immediately grabbed your waist.

“Jisung,” you purred, looking into his tear-stained face as you rotated your hips slowly. “There’s nobody else for me,”

“Oooh…” your boyfriend moaned weakly, throwing his head back. “P-promise?”

“I promise,” you said, kissing his neck and pressing your hips harder into his, feeling him harden in his sweatpants. “I only have eyes for you.”

“Only… me…” he repeated, moving his hips to match your rhythm.

“Nobody is as good to me as you,” you continued, teasingly bouncing on his lap a couple of times.

“A-ah…haa… yes, y-yes… I’ll be good for y-you…”

“You already are,” you praised him before kissing him again. “You’re such a good boy,” you whispered against his lips.

 He shuddered and whined.

You should definitely praise him more often if this is how he got.

“I got all I need right here,” you purred, grinding your core against him harder.

“Noon–aah!” he moaned, his voice getting breathier. “Feels g-good…”

“Mm…yeah,” you agreed, allowing his hands to move your body faster. “ You always make me feel– oh… so good…”

“Wanna…,” he trailed off, inevitably stealing more kisses from you. “Wanna m-make you feel good… all the …aah… all the t-time…”

“You do, baby,” you breathed out, the friction against your clit making you lose your mind. “I’m already a mess and– fuck, your cock isn’t even inside of me…”

At this, Jisung planted his feet on the mattress and snapped his hips up abruptly, making you moan loudly. He wanted to be inside of you so bad, but he had been a little too rough the night before and he didn’t want you to feel any pain. He was okay with cumming like this too. Honestly, anything you were willing to give him was enough to make him feel in heaven.

“Y-you always reach so deep,” you babbled out, feeling yourself getting closer to your release. 

“F-fuck…” he groaned, the veins in his arms becoming more visible as he gripped your hips. He kept thrusting up, making your body jerk up and down with each impact. “You want me deep– mmh…inside?” he growled, imagining there weren’t any layers of clothes between you two.

“Y-yeah…,” you whined, arching your back. “Love your cock…”

“No one else’s?” he pressed, panting at the proximity of his own orgasm.

“W-whose name was I screaming last–ah!...n-night?” you asked as a reply.

“Mine,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Can’t h-hear you,” you had the audacity to tease him.

“Fucking mine,” he growled, moving his hips harder and faster, like the bed wasn’t squeaking already.

“Ooh–... Oh, god, J-jisung!” you moaned, your eyes rolling back at the stimulation.

Jisung’s lidded eyes paid close attention to your beautiful face. Your fucked out expression and your wetness staining his pants as you both dry-humped like horny teenagers finally sent him into a euphoric state. 

“Mine, mine, mine,” he kept repeating against your lips, his breathy voice mixed with your loud moans of his name. “N-noona’s mine… gets this wet just f-for me… Mmh, can only be…satisfied w-with my cock…” 

“Aaah! Jisungie…want y-you, baby…Only– ah! Only you, Ji, oh fuck… oh g-od, Jisung…, Ji-jisung, fuck– Jisu—JISUNG!”

“Cum,” he held you in place to take his vicious thrusts, engorged cock rubbing your clit in the most delicious way as he talked you through your orgasm. “C-cum for me, noona, yeah…Just like that…for me…just for me–Oooh fuuuck!” he whined, as his body tensed and he released in his pants. He panted agitatedly as he slowed down his movements until he finally stopped, kissing your lips lovingly and pulling you into a gentle hug.

“...Is that a maybe for marriage?”