#and was wondering down the tea aisle

[gatheryepens]

I’m so stupid I accidentally bought green tea instead of oolong tea 😭😭

[bunny-jpeg]

🎀 can i get a pithivier and angel food cake and croissant nanaimo bars (but also a pull-apart bread bc i’m a softy) with a side of a martini and an early grey 🤭 for daniel ricciardo pretty please ❤️❤️

bakery menu

want to submit an order? then check out the menu! there is all kinds of things on there! thank you in advance and enjoy! as for this lovely anon, thank you so much for the order! i hope you love what i've come up with! with the cherry on top of the pull-apart bread! AND the mafia au, this was a lovely order to write. i hope it's amazing! so yes! enjoy!!

pithivier ("if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you.") + angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + croissants ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + pull-apart bread ("i love you") + martini (mafia au) + earl grey tea (big cock) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, big cock!daniel, wolff!reader, mafia boss!daniel, mafia boss daughter!reader, affection

the wolf and her moon. the smiling moon that led her from the pack and into the arms of one of the scariest men on the continent. in the glimmering lights of monaco, miss wolff spent her evenings with mister ricciardo, the head of a prominent mafia family.

you were not scared of that life, your adoring father was toto wolff. you had been surrounded by the life for as long as you could remember. you remembered being driven to school by men in dark suits. you remembered going on dates as a teen and seeing the same men in shady corners near where you were. even now as an adult the cloak of your father felt close.

which was why it took a fair bit to get close to daniel ricciardo.

you had been with daniel for a few months now. there was something about him that simply pulled you in. you knew he was a dangerous man, you once spent a night in france with him and mapped out his tattoos with your lips.

he treated you like you were capable, that you weren't something to be protected. even though he did have a habit of keeping a hand on your lower back and opening doors for you. you've only ever once paid for a meal and he loved when you wore the things he bought for you.

currently you were in his home, you just had dinner and were enjoying each other's company. daniel's thick fingers were in your hair as you laid out next to him. the lights were low and you both weren't pay attention to the movie he had put on. you knew it was a marvel movie, but you stopped paying attention to them ages ago.

"i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me." daniel said out loud.

you sighed and pressed yourself further against him and looked up at him, "my father doesn't matter right now. he's off doing whatever tonight."

he rubbed the back of your head and said jokingly, "well you know, if he fucks with me or the family again, i'm finishing inside of you." then kissed you on the face.

you pulled away a little, "i've been hearing all about this power vacuum. should i be worried that you'll do something to my father."

daniel pulled you in once more and peppered your face with kisses, "never. after all, he'll eventually be my father-in-law." and watched you duck your head in embarrassment. he laughed, "i want the satisfaction of him walking you down the aisle.

you rolled your eyes and kissed him all over the face, "i just want both of you safe." you got into his lap and held onto his face. the kiss deepened with his strong arms around you.

when he pulled away he said, "i promise." then pulled you onto your back and kissed you once more, "i can't have my future wife without her husband." he chuckled and stroked your face.

you melted every time he called you that. you sometimes wondered if he was already picking out rings and if you were brought up in backroom conversations between him and your father.

he peppered kissed along your jaw and felt a pull of affection towards you, "i love you."

you giggled and stared up at him, you felt a blush in your cheeks. you felt a thump in your chest and love that dripped into your soul. you joked, "for a mafia boss, you're a big softie."

he rolled his eyes, "what do you want me to say? if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you? never. i love you too much." then kissed at you softly.

you melted a little more, honey in your soul, "you big sap!" you slapped his chest playfully and he pulled you in for a massive kiss.

"yeah, but you're my pretty girl." he want in for another kiss and said slyly, ""who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."

you burst into laughter and squirmed under him. he soon had the bottom of your tank top off over your head and his hands on your breasts.

"c'mon, beautiful. who is my pretty girl? who is the girl who lights me alive and fills me full of love." he kissed at your face with his hands on your breasts. he palmed at the flesh and you arched your back.

you moaned and he started to work on getting your sweatpants off. in all fairness they originally belonged to him, but you told him that women's sweatpants sucked. "if i'm wearing sweatpants, i don't wanna look sexy!" but he thought you looked sexy in his pair.

you reached out for him and placed your palms across his covered chest. he was in a white tank top and similar grey sweats (the other pair he had to buy). you could see the thin gold chair he wore.

it was a hot sight, especially as he got the tank top off and exposed his toned chest to you. you exhaled deeply through you nose and said, "fuck you're hot. my entire life i thought that the mafia were a bunch of busted nose with a fat lip goons who enjoyed beating the shit out of random people." that was what your father told you about men who worked for the families as a means to steer you away from them. he wanted you to be with a man with a white collar job.

"well." daniel chuckled as he rubbed his clothed cock up against your panties, "you've seen me with a fat lip, two broken noses and a broken foot."

"it wasn't broken per say. you did have to get those stitches."

daniel chuckled, "damn verstappen, dropping that wine bottle on it." he got himself out of his briefs and you out of your panties. he admired the sight of your sweet cunt exposed in the soft lighting of the bedroom.

you swallowed at the sight of his cock out of his underwear. daniel had a big cock, you remember the first time you saw it and your eyes got wide. it still left a shiver through it you even now, but you were a little more accustomed to its size.

daniel got closer to you, his chest against yours as he took you by the hips. with a little work, he sank his cock into you. you let out a sweet moan and daniel felt a flash of heat in his chest.

"mmm, beautiful."

you smiled up at him and reached for his face. you pulled him in to a soft kiss and ran your fingers across his chest. his heartbeat was home.

your arms wrapped around him as he thrusted up into you. the two of you moved together, daniel's gaze lingered on you. from your beautiful eyes to your soft lips. the shape of your face and any little 'imperfections' across your skin. he thought it was all beautiful, he tried not to leer at your breasts. you were a person, not meat for him to ogle at.

you held onto him as he continued to move. you could felt lustful flames lick at you core. your back arched a little when his cock prodded up against some of your softest areas.

daniel was a generous lover, he loved the feeling of you. his kisses lingered, wet against your face and neck. you two were wound up into one another as he moved his hips against yours.

from two mafia families, put together. fitting together like puzzle pieces. if anyone from either of your family saw this sexual display, heads would roll.

but you and daniel didn't care. you wanted one another in a way that left you both feeling lot. it wasn't just a sexual heat, but something deeper. something that made you yearn for the other man.

when you looked at him, you felt special. you were a special girl in many ways, not only because of your father's name. you were smart, funny, had friends, and overall were a delight to be about. you had hobbies and aspirations. you were one of a kind, but when daniel looked at you. it sent it all into overdrive, to daniel you were the most important thing on this earth.

you knew with enough convincing, you two could leave the mafia life behind together. run off to the mountains of switzerland and have three children.

daniel kissed you once more, they were hot and heavy as your hands explored one another. you could almost feel your lover's heartbeat.

when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, "one day i'm going to marry you. and i can't wait. you're going to make a beautiful wife for me."

"what about-"

"it'll work out." he pulled his face a little bit and he winked at you. he plants his hands on either side of you and continued to thrust up into you.

you clutched onto his shoulders and he moved faster. you felt the flush of heat through your chest at the feeling and sight of your beloved. this was where you wanted to be. with daniel.

daniel continued to move against you. he shifted your hips and got your knees to your head. he thrusted against you from the perfect angle. a proper mating press for a proper girl.

it only heightened the pleasure, to have you lover hit all the right spots. you moaned and clutched onto the back of your knees as he moved against you. he kissed you once more before you came around his cock. your pretty nails dug into your flesh as he moved against you. the intensity of it made daniel finish as well.

his cum shot into the furthest parts of you as he continued to rock against you. his pulse shot through the roof and sweat made his back shiny. the rush was like a shock to his system. he held you in his arms and rolled to the side.

you laid there naked, daniel's arms around you and eventually your face was in his chest. you felt the after feelings of pleasure and laid tangled up in the man you loved.

he kissed the side of your head and you felt warm. loved.

-

"sonnenschein." your father greeted you in his home office a few days later. you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you. your father gestured to the chair across from him.

you sat gently across from him, straightened your skirt. you then looked at your father once more and asked, "is everything okay?"

"of course. no need to worry." was a common phrase from your father. it made you give him a look and he gave a similar one in return. "you know i care for you, right?" toto said, his hands on the desk. he idly straightened out the mat under his palms. your father seemed nervous, your father was never nervous.

you shifted in your seat, "what's happening, papa." your eyebrows raised and there was a tightness in your chest.

toto sighed, eyes looked away for a moment, "things have gotten complicated in the network of all the families. there is a struggle for power. i fear something is coming and i need to protect you, sonnenschein...."

"are you sending me away?"

"no, no... you'll stay here. of course. i don't want you to feel like a pawn in these games. but, i need the biggest favor from you."

you nodded, "anything."

toto leaned back in his chair and held eye contact with you. the man who taught you how to ride a bike and a shoot a gun. who told you that dreams were only possible if the work was put into it. he had raised a confident young woman. which was why it broke his heart to say, "i need you to be in an arranged married with daniel ricciardo."

your eyes went wide and your heart skipped a beat. you put on a performance of a lifetime as you said to your father, "of course! anything for our family." <3

[allfearstofallto]

Day of the Wedding

Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader

Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere Themes, Forced(?) Alcohol Consumption

AN: I checked today and I have 900 followers??? That's actually insane!!! This is what I've got to offer I guess!!

Diluc

Who wouldn't cry tears of joy when marrying the most desired bachelor of Mondstadt? That's what people thought when they saw you dressed from head to toe in pure white, the only thing throwing your princess attire off being your smeared makeup. Your eyes, so red and puffy, had mascara running down your cheeks. Black tears staining your face.

Despite the way you looked, you still forced a smile. It was a small wedding, containing only those close to the both of you, but your family couldn't help, but wonder why you chose to stay close under your newly wed husband, almost seeming afraid to talk to them.

When the vows were spoken, you could barely get the words out. Your voice shaking through sobs as your tears fell upon the page of written notes, eventually making the ink leak and becoming ineligible. You still spoke your I Do’s, followed by him lifting your veil and kissing you right upon your lips. His hand snaked around your waist and the other held your head in place. But you, you stood there stiffly, like kissing him had made you turn into stone.

Diluc pulled away with a smile, his mouth stained with a slight tint of your lipstick. He walked you back down the aisle, with the crowd throwing rice and cheering. On the happiest day of your life where you were supposed to be looking forward ahead of you, you just kept looking back, hoping that your family could see the distress in your eyes, though they never did.

Childe

So many of Childe's siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles came to the wedding, but not a single one of your family members joined you.

“She's not close to her family,” he'd say, holding on to your waist with a threatening hand. That was a lie. You loved your family. You saw them often, at least, you did before the day you abruptly decided to move to Snezhnaya without a word to them. You hadn't seen them since and they didn't know where to send letters, you were essentially a ghost of their past. Your memory haunted them daily as they missed you dearly and you missed them too.

The wedding lasted days and days. A surprise to even you, but apparently that's tradition. Games and singing. There was dancing happening for what felt like hours. And drinking. So so so much drinking. With a feast that spanned almost an entire table, there was an abundance of alcohol to match.

You could hardly keep up with the festivities. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people being wed to a man you thought you knew. Childe wouldn't let you show your discomfort on your face, meeting your lips with a glass of whatever he was drinking, you'd gulp down even more and fall into that drunken dizziness. When the wedding ended, you don't exactly remember. It all became a blur near the end. But you remember waking up to Childe laying you down in bed, placing a kiss on your forehead and whispering words of praise to you that would've been comforting, had it not been for who he was.

Scaramouche

He always adored the way you looked in kimono. Today was no different. The pure white silk draped over your body was by far the nicest one he'd gifted you. Dolled up in traditional make-up, you felt so stiff with your now decadent appearance.

You'd feel less scared if he wasn't still wearing that same glare. That same look of anger and disappointment. Even though it was just the two of you in the room, you him and the officiant who would wed the two of you, he still glared at the man like one mistake would kill him. And it probably would.

Your hand shook as you picked up what looked to be the tea pot, something he made you practice time and time again to prepare just for today. Getting it wrong today would mean facing his wrath later, yet you still shook while pouring it into the small bowl. You watched with a pounding heart as you managed to spill some, dripping onto the floor and sinking between the wood.

Meeting his gaze and preparing for a scolding, you instead saw him lightly chuckle. Seldom did he smile and even more rare than that, did he actually laugh. The sight was even scarier than his usual glares, somehow his joy made him seem even more menacing.

“I expected this much from you,” he whispered into the silence. His nimble fingers gripped the rim of the bowl and he brought it to your lips, making you take a sip of the warm alcohol. It was bitter and disgusting, just as you'd remembered. When you swallowed your sip, he took one right after you, finishing off what was left in the dish, then sitting it to the side again.

Your names were signed onto a piece of parchment, a wedding document written in traditional Inazuma script. You couldn't read a word of it, but there was no worse contract than the one that said you'd be his lawfully wedded wife.

Scaramouche held your hand as the two of you walked out of the shrine, his fingers cold and his grip tight. It was such a beautiful day out. That was all you could think about as you were walked back to his carriage which would take you to his home. Your last day as a truly free woman, you were glad it was beautiful.

[littlemissayu]

Hi, I really love your twisted wonderland fics, especially the ones where the twisted wonderland boys are being fathers, had me fangirling for hours!!! So I was wondering if you could do a Twisted Wonderland Boys x Reader: WEDDING EDITION!! (Proposal, Ceremony(with Wedding dance song), Honeymoon(kinda saucy)), Also with some Chaotic shenanigans? I've been watching a lot of Rom-Com movies lately, especially My Best Friend's Wedding.

A Quick Trip to The Alter

A/N: I wanted to write some sort of wedding headcanons so thank you for the suggestions!! I really love domestic so its nice to get to do it. It might have taken me a while to get to this due to working on something separate, but now I'm gonna spend some time trying to update more.

A/N#2: I don't remember the last time I was editing this but geez, it's taking me long to post anything at all, I've had ZERO inspo the whole summer, and now school's starting up again by the time I'm writing this author's note, but let's hope I get this out b4 September lol. Let's also hope somehow school will motivate me to be more active in posting A/N#3: I lied I wasn't gonna get this out before September, I apologize. As I am writing this authors note it is 9/17/24 and i've only finished Riddle's part....

Pairings: Heartsabyul x FEM!reader (romantic)

Proposal-

It's romantic obvi, he's so awkward, not to mention atp that he's proposing you guys have been dating for 5 years MINIMUM.

It was a sunny afternoon and the two of you were having tea out in your backyard right by the newly blooming roses. The table was filled with white rose red and (ur fav color). As you two were sitting Riddle was so obviously nervous, and when he spoke up you could hear the nerves in his voice.

“ Dearest, we’ve had a wonderful 5 years together, you’ve been the greatest addition to my life. Without you I feel like a kingdom without its ruler, lost and chaotic”

Riddle’s face was redder than his hair you might’ve mistaken him for a Christmas tree skirt.

“There is nothing more fulfilling than spending all my days in your presence. Your absence is my worst nightmare and your smile is my greatest treasure. A treasure I want to cherish for the rest of our existence”

You finally notice the black velvet box in his hand. He drops to a single knee in front of you, at your mercy. Looking up at you with pleading eyes he ask-

“My Darling Rose, will you become my Queen of Hearts?”

Ceremony-

The ceremony is in a banquet hall, filled to the brim with red and roses. Your favorite color and the blood red compliment the white decor and clam lights.

Riddle was at the end of the aisle, the nervousness on his face was evident. Trey as his best man at his side Cater in tow. And when you finally walk down the isle it's like time freezes in place, and his heart stops, seeing you all done up in your stunning attire, hair, makeup, and just everything about this moment was perfect. His heart warmed, a feeling of home washing over him.

"My dearest, Y/N, you are my peace and my home, everything that I am and will be is with you. The name on my heart is yours. I will spend every second of everyday devoting myself to you and our love. Being your husband is a title I will cherish for all my days"

Wedding song: Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Rey(instrumental orchestral version/Great Gatsby ver.)

Riddle would want the first dance to be romantic and classy just like you guys and this entire wedding, so y'all are totally slow dancing to this song, because the orchestral version just sounds romantic and grand(especially the ver. from the lady on TikTok who was walking down the isle to it iykyk)

Honeymoon-

I feel like ya'll would go somewhere in the country side, whatever the equivalent to the french countryside, where you guys will be in a beautiful vacation home there surrounded by fields of wildflowers and small fruits growing on bushes nearby, with a small town down the road. While Riddle would enjoy going out into he town with you and learning it's history and culture, he'd also enjoy other honeymoon activities in the comfort of your comfy vacation home, besides even the bedroom is so gorgeous it's only right to use it for one of it's many purposes.

Proposal- It will catch you so off guard. Picture this it's a night after a long day at the bakery and the two of you are walking home together as usual. He asks to walk a long route because it's more scenic and your like sure so you guys are walking and you stumble across a huge willow tree, specifically a weeping willow and you see two initials one are his and the one at the end of the plus has your first initial and his last initial so you joke how it would take a wedding ring to make that happen and he just says "So let's make it happen, Y/N L/N, would you make the decision to not only share a last name, but a lifetime together?"

Ceremony-

I dunno why but I'm convinced yall get married in a garden or something. Think about it a nice forest with luscious trees and greenery, complemented by the fresh white and complementing amber color, as you make your way down the isle the standing their a we smile on his face as you come down the isle. His family and yours watched the two of you in awe and filled with love in their hearts and their eyes.

"Y/N, so much is beautiful about you, your eyes, your hair, your teeth, your smile, your warm embrace, and your sweet face. But nothing can compare to the beauty of your love, the most precious gift anyone could give me. Now I don't have to waste a second yearning for your love cause now I'll wake up to it in the morning and it'll give me the peace I need to sleep at night. I will spend every second of everyday trying to give you the love you give me tenfold and more because you are so worthy of that love and anything you could ever ask for. Thank you for being mine."

Wedding Song: Just the Two of Us by Bill Withers and Grover Washington Jr.

Vintage, romantic, classy. This is the song Trey would guide you in an intimate waltz with all his friends and family watching. Romance is in the air and everyone can feel the love between you two. And while the two of you are waltzing he's whispering all the things he plans to do to you the minute you're left alone.

Honeymoon-

Now if you've noticed I am RUNNING with this greenery theme but you two would spend your week away together on a lovely lake house that you rented for a week(or however long). The sweet sounds of birds chirping and the sun peeking through the small crack in the curtains as the sounds of the outside relaxed the two of you. The smell of the forest filled your nostrils from the small crack in the window. resting you head on his bare chest and the two of you are cuddled up under the covers. No view the lake could give would be better than the sight of him on top of you.

Proposal-

Think about it like this, the two of you are on a vacation together and he takes you to a private romantic dinner to commemorate your last day there (and take some cute pics for the gram). You finish taking pics and he mentions the beauty of the view. "But it would be more beautiful if you were in a wedding dress" you turn to look at him "And why would I-"

"How about a diamond to become a diamond for starters?"

Ceremony-

An evening/late afternoon ceremony. It's in a gorgeous town hall with marigolds and roses to compliment the warmth from the love that was bouncing off the walls. And as you walked down the isle in a dress that complimented and flattered you in ways that didn't seem possible. And as Cater looked at you, making steps closer and closer to be his wife, his heart melted. Only you could tell that at this very moment he wanted to shed a tear(ugly cry) at the sight of you. Everything in this moment felt complete.

"Thank you for giving me your love and affection. Nothing about you could ever compare to the love of anyone else, you are my home and my heart rest in your hands. Your delicate loving embrace holds my heart dear and guards it from the dangers of the world. My love for you is everlasting, every second of everyday my love for you will increase tenfold and all I want is to serve and love you the way you deserve as not only the fantabulous person you are but the way my wife deserves"

Wedding Song: Die with a Smile by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga

Man maybe it's just cause I'm obsessed with this song, but I can just picture Cater and his new stunning wife dancing in the romantic lighting of the wedding reception to this heart warming song, that makes me wanna fall in love with someone so baddddd.

Honeymoon-

Whatever the equivalent to Greece in twisted wonderland that is exactly where your going. Think mamma Mia vibes. Maybe you're on an island, an island by the mainland with a Airbnb (well the test equivalent) that's right near the water with a stunning view, and you guys are near a market place too. You're out on the balcony where you're looking out into the sea as your husband wraps his arms around, his bare chest out and his head resting between your neck near the bruises and marks from the night before were, ones that he made sure were their himself.

Proposal- A part of me wants to say that he just randomly asks one day while you guys are eating dinner but I'mma trust him and say that he put some effort behind this because he loves you. So let's say you two were at a dinner with his family, and strangely enough the topic of marriage is brought up every so often. "You know lilies are pretty wedding flowers" "Don't you think that a summer wedding would be better than a winter wedding?" "Isn't the idea of settling down just darling, especially if you've been dating for a while, just seems like the logical next step doesn't it?". The only reason you weren't heavily suspicious is cause they always pondered out loud when you two would tie the knot. So by the time you left you hadn't really thought much about it. As you two head back to the car Ace asked if you wanna take a walk by the park that was only 20 minutes away walking and you were down. The walk was mostly quite the two of you just enjoying the scenery that there was to appreciate in the Queendom. Once you get to the park you two are walking deeper and deeper when you notice a small empty area near the flowers where fairy lights are set up? The fairy lights are hanging up on the branches of two trees and it was stunning, Rose petals dabbled around the area and you look at it in awe as your distracted you hear Ace clear his throat and you turn to him, on a single knee.

"Y/N, we've been together for, a while and I think I'm ready to spend my life with you, not as my girlfriend but as my wife, so would you like to be my wife?"

Ceremony-

An intimate wedding in a stunning garden. And there is totally fairy lights because when I think of Ace for some reason I think of fairy lights. Like imagine the fairy lights entangled in the seat to light your way to him and all the Rose petals and the smiles of your families. A beautiful arch adorned with roses the color of blood and ones a pure white as a compliment. Hints of gold everywhere really harp on the warm feel. Ace looks at you smirking, trying not to laugh, not cause anything's funny, just cause the fact this is even happening feels so unreal, you're seriously about to become his wife.

"Y/N, thank you choosing to stay by my side. I can be a hassle sometimes, you tell me as much, but you've never left. You've loved me and cared for me every step of the way. I plan to spend the rest of my days living up to being the perfect, or somewhat perfect, husband you deserve. I don't think I'll ever reach that standard but I'll do my damned hardest trying to. If you were to cut my heart open all you'd find is you, anything and everything about you. That is what I live for, to be your husband."

Wedding Song: I Think They Call This Love by Elliot James Reay

This song is so damn romantic and if Ace had to define you guys love I'm confident this is what he'd pick. If you haven't heard it listen to it please this song is so good and I really think it embodies Ace's love. If you've read my Rom-Com song picks you'll understand why, this song and that one have the same vibe in my opinion.

Honeymoon-

Yall totally going to like the TWST equivalent of Portugal. Imagine site seeing, Ace would say it's boring but he'd secretly be invested in the beauty of the culture and history. Especially all the palaces and market places. He loves it, the views are fabulous, the foods fantastic and the people are great. But his favorite part of this place isn't the white sand beaches, the detailed architecture or even the culture that was built into the place. His favorite part is when you two are left alone in your resort room when he's left to be between the warmth of your legs. Eyes to eyes, skin to skin. Yeah that's definitely the best part

Proposal-

He's nervous af. Sweaty palms, racing thoughts, stuff movements. This man is STRESSED. You two are taking a romantic blastcycle ride at sunset when he stops a cliff with a stunning view of a valley. You can just feel the nervousness radiating off of him and you rub his forearm to calm him, chuckling you ask him what's up and his face becomes flushed as he looks over his shoulder to the view right by the two of you as he begins to speak

"Y/N, you know that I love you.I'd do anything to ensure your happiness, even if it was without me. You're special to me, and that's why I hope you can have your happy beginning with me. Will you marry me?"

Ceremony-

Totally in a like a small chapel, with friends and family surrounding the two of you. The blue chrysanthemums and white jasmines decorate the chapel. The soft music of the wedding march playing as you make your way to him. He's sobbing. uncontrolably. You're just such a vision in white, you're beauty filling him with warmth but his love for you is really what has him in fat tears running down his cheek as he looks at you ever so lovingly, making your way to the start of your life together, forever.

"Y/N, I can barely describe my love for you. It transcends any word or saying or thought. I treasure anything and everything you say, do, think, or express. Your joy is precious and I'd do anything to preserve it and help it grow. I will do my best to be a dutiful and worthy husband. No gem could compare to the pricelessness of your love, everything I do will be to show my love for you."

Wedding Song: Line without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery

I have zero logical explanation behind this pick besides the fact this songs like Deuce, not voice wise, but tone wise. Something about this song is so moving and so Deuce kind of love, like this is how he would describe his love for you, but to him it'd never feel like enough, there's so much more to his love for you.

Honeymoon-

Sweden(the TWST equivalent ofc), like imagine you two staying in a quaint yet busy cute Swedish town. The warm lighting of the place and the warmth of the food, the people, the culture. Imagine waking to the sight of pure snow sitting on the buildings and people starting there day, the smell of fresh winter and the warmth of the hot chocolate warming you right up. But nothing can compare to the warmth you get from your now husbands bare skin against yours, warm and comforting. Your limbs entangled together under the sheets, very satisfied from the night before.

A/N: the fact this took me months get over with is ridiculous, let's hope the school year somehow, motivates me to write more. I dunno I guess when I don't feel busy I forget about all my writing but when I feel busy I wanna write desperately. Anyways, Ik I always say this then never release anything BUT FLOOD MY INBOX BABES. I will force myself to sit in front of my computer til I get something out of myself. You guys have great ideas and I'd love to recieve more to release more content, besides the ones I think of ofc.

If y'all think this deserves to be a series lmk, I think I'll actually be up to it

Heartsabyul Masterlist

TWST Masterlist

Grand Masterlist

[rosedpetal]

A Good Father

Summary: Ransom shows his family he knows how to take care of his own kid.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (as his baby mamma)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

Author's note: this is a repost.

Masterlist

If years ago someone ever told Ransom that he'd get married and have children, he'd laugh in their faces. Whenever anyone in his family brought the topic of him settling down, he would leave the table and curse at them.

Until you came in the picture.

He was having the worst day ever, and he desperately needed a cookie. So, he went to the grocery store and was about to pick the last package left of his favorite cookies on the aisle, when you swayed your damned hips and got the package first.

Ransom was livid. He threw the most embarrassing tantrum ever, threatening to call security on you and ruin your life, but you just laughed at his face and asked if he wanted to share. Share! How dared you?

So, you bought the cookies and gave him half. After the first bite, his mood improved and he actually asked you out on a date. It was the best night of his life.

Five years later, you were married and had a baby. You moved to a nice house in a quiet neighborhood, and even adopted a stray dog (well, he just got home from work one day and the puppy was chewing on one of his expensive shoes, while you had the widest grin he ever saw on someone's face).

Ransom loved you with all his heart. And when you gave birth to your baby daughter, he loved her beyond words.

But right now, you were set on making him miserable.

"I'm not talking about this again, Hugh." You pointed your finger at him and he flinched. You never called him by his name. "You're going and you're taking Lily with you. Her nanny is sick, and I have to work."

"But babe-"

"Not. Another. Word." You gave him one of your deadly stares, and he actually felt sorry for Lily having such a scary mother. After petting your dog's fur, you turned to Lily on the highchair and peppered her face with kisses, while she giggled. "Mommy's gonna miss you so much baby boo, you tell me if your daddy misbehave!"

Ransom tried not to roll his eyes at you. You pecked him on the lips and he pouted. Before you left the kitchen, he called you:

"Babe, don't forget your jacket. It might get cold."

You smiled at him. You knew he was upset for having to take Lily to his family's horrible get-together.

After your car left the garage, he looked at his chubby baby, wondering if he'd succeed in shielding her from the evil of his family.

Things change after having your first child. First, Ransom started saving money. No more shopping sprees for him. Then, he actually tried to get his own thing, in which he failed miserably. Seeing his struggle, his good old grandad secured him with the ownership of their publishing company (for Walt's despair). The only catch: he'd have to show to family meetings at least until Harlan Thrombey's death. 

Which was how he was stuck in this mess in the first place. 

Ransom was not stupid. He could handle these annoying game nights, dinners and whatever by provoking everyone and leaving after setting the mood for a big fight.

But bringing his baby with him?

Big no.

Well, you shared his opinion on this. You two would avoid having Lily in their company as best as you could, but some things couldn't be helped.

Your trusted nanny called in sick, and you couldn't bring Lily to work.

Ransom wanted to cry. 

He took the fussing Lily out of the baby seat and struggled to put her in the carrier attached to his front, got her pink bag on his shoulder and closed the door of the car with his feet (how you managed to do all these things so gracefully were beyond him). He got on the front porch of Harlan's home and wanted to scream. What the hell was his great-grandmother doing there, sitting alone on that chilly afternoon, with such a thin blanket covering her?

"Hey Nana, why don't we go drink some tea inside?" He offered. The small old woman nodded, in a way he new she didn't actually acknowledged him.

Fuck his family for treating Nana like she was something disposable.

Ransom took Nana's small hand on his and carried her to an armchair in the living room, where Fran was serving tea to Harlan.

Before Ransom could even say "hi" his grandfather was already up and speaking in his "baby" voice with Lily. His daughter giggled, showing her cute teeny tiny new teeth.

It was fucking cute, but the days of Lily's teething made Ransom and Y/N traumatized.

"Hi to you too, granddad." Ransom rolled his eyes, sitting across his grandfather's seat.

"Tea?" Fran offered Ransom. He thanked her, an habit you made him build. Saying "thanks", and "please", things his parents didn't bother to teach him. He wanted Lily to be better than him, and by that, he had to make himself better than whatever he was.

The first time Ransom apologized to Fran, the woman was so shocked that she broke in a fit of hysterical laughter, while Marta just blinked like she was imagining things.

Ransom took a walk with Lily still safely attached to his chest. He didn't want to admit it, but she was getting heavier and harder to carry all the times. God, after five minutes he needed to sit down on a wooden trunk to recover.

Feeling like his breath was coming to normal again, Ransom went back to the house, noticing that there were more cars parked there.

Here comes the shit show.

At the dining table, Richard's voice mixed with Walt's, like they were competing on who would talk louder. Linda absently smoked a cigarette, promptly ignoring Joni. Jacob and Meg where fighting over politics or some shit, and Donna was on her phone.

A miserable-looking Marta sat between Fran and Nana on the small couch on the corner.

And Harlan ignored the rest of them, with a glass of whiskey dancing in his hand.

"Oh, there he is! And look who is here too!" Linda beamed, putting out the cigarette. 

Ransom grimaced when his mother's nicotine smelling hand brushed against his daughter's face. Lily was so calmed before, and it broke his heart when she started crying her lungs out, like she wanted to be away from Linda's greedy presence.

Lily's crying made everyone shut up. She was born eight months ago, and they saw her only once, when Ransom and Y/N took her to Harlan's when she was a newborn. Linda and Richard tried to visit Ransom's house a few times, but they quickly grew bored of the grandparents role.

Joni, Donna and Walt couldn't really care less for baby Drysdale. Meg tried to be as nice as she could with Lily, but she was terrified of babies. As for Jacob, Ransom didn't want that little creep close to his daughter.

"Oh, Ransom, is she hungry or something?" Linda grimaced at Lily's screams. 

No, mother, she's upset because she hates you. Ransom wanted to yell at Linda's face, but he just took Lily in his arms and rocked her gently, kissing her sweaty temple and running his thumb over her tears.

"Shh, love. 'S okay, daddy's here for you. My brave little girl, everything's gonna be alright, I'm here for you." Ransom whispered gently to Lily.

Linda gulped, suddenly feeling her eyes watering. She wondered if she could go back she'd be a better mother. She doesn't remember ever holding Ransom like that, not even when he was a baby. She didn't even breastfeed him, and she and Richard never woke up in the middle of night to soothe Ransom's cries. Not when they had nannies for that. Not when they could buy their way of not giving him their time or affection.

"You're good with her, son." Richard cleared his throat, feeling the same guilt wash over him.

"Of course I'm good with my own daughter." Ransom scoffed, still rocking Lily in his arms. He lowered his head to her. "There you go, baby. Wanna hang out with auntie Marta while daddy spend some time with these assholes? Huh?"

Marta smiled a little at the snarky remark, and Ransom passed Lily to her, who was already making grabby hands for Marta.

Of course she likes the immigrant nurse, Linda bitterly thought.

"Wow, that was so cute, Ransom!" Meg complimented. "You make me think even I could be a good parent! No offense, of course."

"None taken, cousin. Having children is life changing if you're ever willing to have your own."

"Ohhh, I miss when Meg was that tiny. You were the cutest thing ever, baby." Joni took Meg's hand on her own. Donna and Walt's gaze strayed to Jacob, who smiled at them.

The memories of Linda, Neil and Walt's feet running in the house flooded Harlan's memory. How he missed them like that. How he missed his deceased son and wife. 

The atmosphere in the living room was way more harmonious, almost soothing. The Thrombey-Drysdale family was taken aback by Ransom's behavior. They never thought he'd be a good father.

[astralis-is-typing]

Better with you beside me

⚝fic type: slice of life

⚝genre/contains: seungmin x gn!reader, college!au, fluff, comfort, established relationship, domestic af lol

⚝word count: 1.9k

⚝inspo: "Only" by LeeHi, and a prompt from this post by @novelbear

“Can we get stop by the café on our way back?” You groaned, sneakers dragging across the white tiles of the packed stationery store. Your boyfriend leaned closer, trying to catch your words over the din. You tilted your face towards him, repeating your words closer to his ear.

“There’s food back at your dorm,” Seungmin replied matter-of-factly, tutting at your forgetfulness and playfully flicking your forehead. “We made sandwiches before we left, remember?”

“That’s a whole train ride away,” you sighed dramatically, throwing your head back and rubbing your grumbling stomach for good measure.

“Okay, okay,” Seungmin conceded with faux exasperation, but the amused glint in his eyes was a dead giveaway. “We’ll grab brownies or something once we’re out of here.” He took your hand in his and gave a gentle tug, urging you through the aisle at a faster pace. A toppling stack of binder files narrowly missed his head, but he dodged out of the way just in time. “For now, can we get a move on?”

You grumbled a noncommittal reply, interlocking your cold fingers with his warm ones as you quickly sidestepped the sea of orange and purple files now scattered across the floor. Seungmin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and unfurled the battered shopping list that held your list of supplies. Almost every item jotted down in fading blue ink had been crossed off; it was a testament to the errand nearly complete.

You gripped the handles of the heavy plastic shopping basket tighter, the heap of notebooks, pens, and other supplies making your arm ache in protest as you weaved through the throng of bodies. Like everyone else in here, you’d waited till the very last minute to get everything you needed before the semester started next week.

“A coffee would do me wonders,” you murmured, eyes wearily scanning the packed checkout lines.

“I think everyone in here could say the same,” Seungmin chuckled, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he took in your worn-out state.

The store was packed with baggy-eyed college students, who no doubt had spent these final days before the start of the semester catching up on work they should’ve completed over the winter break.

The two of you finally made it to the front of the long queue, Seungmin swatting your hand away as you tried giving your card to the cashier. She smiled softly as your boyfriend insisted on paying on your behalf.

“You forget that you’re also a broke college student,” you say, glaring at Seungmin as he thanked the cashier with a small smile and ushered you out of the store.

“Semi-broke,” he quipped, cooing at the expression on your face and poking your side. “You forget that ‘After School Club’ actually makes bank. Felix and Jeongin would’ve bailed out a long time ago if it didn’t.”

“Still,” you sighed, glare evaporating at the mention of Seungmin’s hilarious podcast. “I’d saved up for this stuff, you didn’t have to pay for me.”

The banter between the two of you carried on, bumping into each other every so often as you walked on. Making good use of Seungmin’s distraction, you managed to steer him all the way into your favourite café. Knowing him though, you suspected he could tell where you were leading him and simply let you have your way.

“Just one cappuccino,” you negotiated, left foot inching towards the café’s entrance. Seungmin noticed this and chuckled fondly, nudging it back into position with his own foot.

“You’re really something else.” He sighed, but made no move to argue.

“Is that a yes?” You asked in glee, the weight of your purchases forgotten as you happily swung your shopping bag at your side.

“No coffee though— you know what it does to you,” Seungmin said, shaking his head at your antics. “Get a hot cocoa or some tea. Same for me. You go ahead, I forgot I need to get something.”

“Okay, deal!” Smug from your supposed victory, you didn’t notice the way Seungmin’s lips quirked upwards as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek and walked into the café with a slight spring in your step.

—

It didn’t take long for you to find a cozy little corner to people watch after you placed your to-go order. The familiar scent of freshly baked pastries was a comforting contrast to the disorienting array of perfumes and colognes that bombarded your senses in the stationery store. You took a deep breath, sinking into the plush chair and allowing yourself to momentarily zone out. Contentment came easily these days; simply taking in the low music playing through the café’s speakers or the mellow chatter of groups sitting around tables in twos and threes did you a world of good. To simply exist for a few moments, not particularly focusing on anything.

Seungmin came back just after the waiter at the counter had called out your order. You rested your arms on the counter and watched him walk in as the waitress double-checked your receipt. His light brown bangs fell slightly over his eyes, and he absentmindedly feathered them back into place as he casually strolled over to you at the counter.

“Ready to head back?” He asked, adjusting the tote bag on his shoulder.

“All set!” you confirmed with a nod, hands each balancing your shopping bag and your order.

“We’re not going to get very far like this,” Seungmin teased with a laugh, taking the small box of brownies from you and plopping it into his tote bag before relieving you of your loaded shopping bag.

“Aren’t you the man?” you teased back. Seungmin pulled a silly face at you in response, and you nearly dropped the two cups of hot cocoa you were holding from laughing.

—

“We’re literally four hundred meters from the train station,” Seungmin huffed incredulous. He bit back a laugh at how you were hunched over, empty cups in hand.

Shaking his head, Seungmin took the cups from you and tossed them into a nearby recycle bin before returning to simply stand by your side, arms crossed as he waited for you to recover.

The two of you must’ve been quite the sight— you, bent forward and groaning dramatically, while Seungmin stood stoically beside you, his expression deadpan.

“Piggyback ride,” you demanded, straightening back up with an exaggerated sigh.

“You’ve got to be insane!” Seungmin exclaimed. “The train station is right there.”

“No more,” you protested, shaking your head. “You said that ten minutes ago. Now, piggyback ride!” You clapped your hands once, stepping behind your wide-eyed boyfriend and patting his broad shoulders. “My feet are killing me,” you whined.

“Lazy,” Seungmin quipped, before sighing in defeat and letting you jump onto his back like a human backpack.

Grinning brightly at your small triumph, you ruffled his hair in thanks as your aching feet left the ground. Kim Seungmin was a tough man to beat, definitely seeing right through your exaggerated exhaustion. But he let you win anyway. Just because it was you.

—

The train rattled on, and you periodically turned to the window, letting the fading warmth of the sunset kiss your face one last time. Outside, the scenery blurred past in streaks of colour and light as you and Seungmin sat side by side, playing tic-tac-toe on a forgotten scrap of paper you had found on your seat. After yet another draw, Seungmin gave up, stuffing his pen into the front pocket of his jeans.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed, playfully reprimanding you. “You use the same infuriating tactics every single time.”

“Hey! It’s the only way to play the game,” you argued in your defense, laughing at his despair.

“You always try trap me by placing your ‘X’ at the same corner!”

“What do you want me to do? Start at the middle?” Your face twisted in mock horror. Such a rookie mistake was far beneath your prowess.

Seungmin tutted at you, giving up before the argument could even begin. “You’re so stubborn,” he grumbled— then immediately blamed himself for it, claiming you’d picked up the trait from hanging out with him. With a sigh, he leaned in, wiggling his fingers in front of your eyes as if he wanted to poke them.

You barely reacted, of course.

It was one of his many odd habits, something you’d grown accustomed to long ago. You still remembered his first ever visit to your dorm, when he’d attacked your plushies, pressing his fingertips into their button eyes and laughing maniacally as if it were the funniest activity known to man.

So, it didn’t come as a surprise now when, instead of flinching, you instinctively shut your eyes and let the soft pads of his fingertips rest gently against your eyelids. You had long since stopped caring how this unorthodox display of affection might look to passersby.

It was moments like these when you felt most at peace.

The stillness of quiet steady love made time stop for just a second. And that was enough to restore structure to your chaos.

Seungmin was your small but certain happiness, the subtleties of his love a constant reassurance that carried you through the longest of days.

���By the way, I got you something,” he said quietly. A rare, shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he fretted with your coat, reaching beneath the collar to tug out the bunched-up hood of your zip-up hoodie. You hadn’t even noticed that small discomfort, but he had.

Briefly acknowledging his help with a smile, you tilted you head, intrigued.

Seungmin reached into the depths of his tote bag beside him and turned back to you with red ears. “Here.” He held out a box to you. “I... got you headphones. So you can, you know, zone out in peace.”

Your breath caught.

There was silence for a beat, then another, and in this void you began to notice every other sound around you— the rhythmic click-clack of the wheels on the tracks, the soft hum of the engine beneath your seats. The rustle of a newspaper as someone nearby turned a page, the snippets of distant conversations that had previously blended into white noise.

You tried to sync your breathing with the train’s rhythm, grounding yourself as you processed what Seungmin had just said.

How well he knew you.

Seungmin, ever perceptive, understood your quiet. “I noticed how you get overwhelmed after… interacting so much,” he admitted, almost sheepishly. “So, here’s a way to slow down. I hope…”

Tears welled in your eyes as you took in his words. “It’s perfect.”

Beyond that, words failed you. All you could manage was pull him into a hug.

Seungmin welcomed it with a small chuckle, the sound muffled as his cheek was squished against the fabric of your coat. Your scent was familiar, an unspoken invitation that eased the last of his lingering anxieties about whether you’d like his gift.

He looked up at you from this angle, admiring the gentle curve of your smile. “I hope they make your semester easier,” he murmured earnestly. Then, adding with a mischievous grin. “And you needed to let those ancient earphones go.”

You rolled your eyes, classic Seungmin. You swatted his hair lightly as you released him from your hold. “But you already do.” Your voice softened. “Make my days easier, I mean.”

Seungmin smirked at that. “Don’t you ever worry,” he said. “You’re stuck with me for the long run. We’ll be alright.”

© astralis-is-typing 2025. Plagiarism is strictly prohibited. This is my intellectual property. Do NOT repost or translate my work on tumblr, wattpad, or any other platform.

⚝A/N: So excited to be back to writing fanfics! Last time I posted on here was like, August of 2023. I've grown a lot since then haha, both as a writer and as a person (I hope). Thank you for reading <3 I hope this story finds someone who's as obsessed with "Only" as I am lol.

[sweetiesicheng]

yeosang - sick

word count : 652

-

"woah, easy there," yeosang says to you as you have another coughing fit. he pats your back as you go through your fit. "think you can eat?" he asks.

you nod, "yea," you reply. "i'll make it myself, babe," you say to him.

he shakes his head. "just take a break. i'll make you something," he says to you. he gets off of the bed and leaves the room with a sense of hurry in his movement.

you grab your water bottle and take a sip. as you sit in bed, you hear yeosang doing stuff in the kitchen since the door is open.

you grab the bottle of cough syrup on the nightstand and realize that you're going to run out, so you get up and throw on your coat. you leave the room and pop your head into the kitchen.

"hey, i'm gonna go buy more cough syrup," you say to yeosang. he turns his head.

"huh? i can go buy it," yeosang says to you, putting down a container with some leftovers in. it. "i'll go buy more after i'm done making dinner."

"no, babe, it's fine," you say to him.

"no, no, no," yeosang says and walks over to you. "go rest."

"i've been stuck in here all day," you remind him, "i won't take that long."

he sighs in response. "okay. go," he says, quickly giving in, “but get back here quickly.”

you smile, "i'll be back," you say to him.

you leave your house and walk a few blocks to reach a small market. when you go inside, you grab a basket and go into the medicine aisle first, where you grab a bottle of cough syrup.

you look around the store for a second and grab a few more items. after you pay, you walk back home. it's freezing cold, but the walk isn't bad and your trip to the market was fairly quick.

however, once you get home, you see yeosang waiting by the front door. he opens the door when he sees you.

"why were you up here?" you ask him.

"i was worried. i texted you to buy snacks, but your phone was in the room," he replies and holds his hand out as you approach him. he grabs the bag and both of you go inside. "food's ready," he mentions.

you take your coat off, throwing it onto the couch in the living room. both of you go into the kitchen, and you sit down at the table while yeosang goes to the stove. he brings you some food.

"thanks, babe," you say to him as he walks back to the stove to make another plate of food.

"mhm," he hums. "there's extra if you want to eat more." suddenly, he realizes something, "oh!" he takes a few steps to the side. you watch him pour water from a kettle into a mug and add a tea packet. "here," he says and brings the mug to you, "this is a good tea to drink when you're sick."

you smile, "thanks. i wanted something warm to drink," you mention.

all of a sudden, you feel yourself about to have a coughing fit and turn away. you cough a few times before stopping.

"you okay?" yeosang asks you.

you nod, "yea, i'm good."

"hmm...hopefully you get better soon. i hate seeing you sick," yeosang comments with a frown.

"well, i'm miserable if you're wondering," you say to him as you move the mug closer to you. you lift the tea packet a few times but leave it in the mug.

"well, hopefully you get better soon. i don't like seeing my cutie pie miserable," he replies, “so tell your sickness to go away.”

you laugh and nod. "okay, i'll tell my sickness to go away."

"good."

"yeosang," you call his name, "thank you."

he smiles, "no need, baby. just get better soon."

[satoruhour]

hello :) may i ask a husband nanami headcanons? your so talented!

a/n: ty anon !!! i hope u like this :3

warnings: (in second half of post) pregnancy kink? breeding / creampie kink ofc, consensual somnophilia, praise, pet names

i. sfw headcanons

nanami is so sweet when he first proposes to you! ofc you have sex on the daily or weekly but when he’s reading his speech to you when he’s kneeling down it’s so sweet that you cry

and this dude wonders why you’re tearing up when his words literally mirror a poet’s LMFAO

nanami proposes at a quiet place only the two of you frequent, to avoid unwanted attention like crowds (he’s just thinking about gojo and how annoying he would be)

but also because he just wants it to be as special as he can make it out to be

honestly, if the whole kuantan thing works out he would love to propose there while the waves and horizon set the scene naturally. like he already knew he wanted to retire from being a jujutsu sorcerer here but he just melts when you’re here too. everything wrapped up in one, and the tear-filled “yes!!!” makes him jump and warms his heart

has a dinner laid out for you and everything and if the beach is deserted he wouldn’t mind having u right there LOL hes quiet but freaky just sayin’ !!!

when you walk down the aisle he cries. really

and is now obsessed with how he can call you ”his wife” as opposed to “his girl” 

okay but now on to the domesticity. the dynamics are almost the same: he isn’t against you heading out to earn your own money, and he’s more than happy to be a stay-at-home husband if you want him to, but seeing you in your cute apron has him already thinking of family and how you would bounce the baby on your arm as you prepare dinner

nanami is more doting when he’s your husband, not that he wasn’t before, but he thinks it’s the old age when he sees your leg cramp and he massages it or when you squint at your book so he turns up your lamp to a higher setting

also likes to flaunt off his wedding ring, albeit with flushed cheeks. he does it when he drinks tea, sliding gojo his paper work, polishing his weapon and it’s silent, laidback bragging and only gets annoyed when gojo asks about it

if anyone else does it he’s happy to talk about you lol

is a lot more slack when it comes to his salary and treating you to things, saying things like “oh, it’s okay, my pretty wife deserves this”

nanami does his part of the housework now that you’re permanently living together and pulls his weight — buying cleaning supplies, folding the laundry, buying food for the dog

he doesn’t care much about gender roles and is willing to show you that a good husband shouldn’t just be a milestone to complete and then immediately refuses to participate in household work

deadbeat husbands = boooooo

for now you’re still busy as jujutsu sorcerers, but after a year or two of being married he’s trying to convince you to take less missions, partially because he’s afraid of curses taking advantage of your relationship (not that they didnt before, but now they have a leverage against you) and marriage to hold either of you hostage

but the main reason for the persuasion is because he wanted a kid. and you step back in shock because nanami kento? wanting a kid? it seemed so out of character for him but considering how much he liked to come in you… was already pretty telling

like he loved the dog but also wanted like. biological kids. it was wild, he knows, even when you tell gojo (he’s still a little mad that you did, but it was an accident), even the six-eyes user was pretty surprised.

when the kid comes he’s just. crying again. he really loves you so much, and the fact that you carried a baby for nine months and was in pain for 12 hours and then pushed a whole ass baby out ur vagina? goddamn

you two name her nanami kumiko and he holds her like she’s the only one in the world (besides you), cooing gently as how the baby seem to snuggle into his warmth

he gives her a danish name too: ida, but he’s not sure if he should include it in the birth certificate, so he didn’t

he is very protective of his girl, especially how you techniques seemed to be passed down and how the jujutsu society might be seeking out your offspring in kuantan, but he makes sure no one comes close to the two of you, even asking gojo reluctantly to monitor any news of the higher-ups looking to ruin her childhood

nanami really thinks it’s age now, because he find it so hard to say no to your baby girl whenever she asks for something — whether non-verbal or verbal

is a calm dad, usually burping the baby after you feed her, changing her diapers, etc., even suggesting bonding by holding her close with skin-to-skin contact and you're surprised he even knows about that

you give in when you see that he does it anyway, rocking the baby softly on the balcony with his top off, already knowing she’s going to be a daddy’s girl when she grows up

spoils his daughter but still disciplines her when it’s necessary, but he reverts to gentle parenting when he needs to. learns how to tie hair because of her, teaches her about manners and consent and tells her he has no problem if she decides to punch a guy one day. she’s just confused lol, why would i need to do that, dad?

bless him, she got your kind disposition, but yeah he emphasises that she should stand up for herself if needed

during pregnancy, he’s also making sure you never lift a finger, running across the house to complete errands, going out to buy your cravings and regulating your diet. it’s pretty cute but nanami is sometimes really strict about what you eat because he doesn’t want your health to decline lol

“just one cup of coffee… please?”

nanami only grunts in disapproval, hoping a peck to your forehead can wake you up, ”no.”

okay but that’s a lot, i have a lot of Thoughts

now…. 

ii. nsfw headcanons

building on that hc earlier abt going from calling you ”his girl” to ”his wife”, he uses it so much in the bedroom you’d think it was a fetish

and you kinda understand it, there’s the jump of your heart when he introduces you as “his wife” compared to a mere girlfriend

honest to god, coming home that day and seeing you cook wasn’t the first time he’s thought of having a kid. it’s happened many times before, seeing you interact with the first-years, guiding a first-grader home after a mission

and sure he’s done it before, but you’re always on the pill and he has really really thought of getting a vasectomy, but then he thinks of how cute you’d look with a round belly, carrying his baby and that glow that he knows he’s the reason for

so the day he proposes to you, he fucks you like an animal, cumming deep in you with choked groans and fills you up.

wedding night? same thing

but what really got him going was after he told you about wanting a kid, and you begging with those eyes of yours is what drove that string to snap. “i w-want you— shit— to fuck a baby into me, kento!” 

wheew and he goes insane. nanami loves it when you beg for his cum, legs locked around his body to get him to do it. you’re relentless too, spreading your folds for him as his cum seeps out slowly and soon he’s fucking his cum deep into you again, filling you up two, three, four times

and he doesn’t exactly care if that time doesn’t work because now he knows you aren’t taking contraception so he just does it regularly for good measure.

you aren’t complaining because you’ve never seen nanami so feral when he’s pushing his cum deep into you, whether it’s with his cock or with his fingers. that period before your pregnancy was so fulfilling that you wouldn’t mind pushing out another baby for your husband, if it meant getting railed by a man on a mission to make you a mommy

by god he fucks you on every surface of the house

when you’re pregnant too, you can’t help but get wet bc of your hormones and sometimes comes home from work, tired and needing some relief

he finds relief between your legs when you’re sleeping, talking about how nice it was to get used while sleeping, but you didn’t expect nanami to utilise it while you’re pregnant. you wince and groan as you sit up, but you need to see your husband lapping at your cunt immediately, moaning into your core like a starved man

but ofc nanami is a lot gentler when you’re pregnant. he offers to do the work, thrusts gentler and less impactful, but he still feels so good

a few years after marriage, sex is still an ongoing thing, but it’s converted more into love-making and lazy intercourse because you weren’t exactly young. sure you both would go crazy a few times a week but it was difficult with a maturing kid in the room next to yours.

you both would also take the time to discover other kinks!!! always busy, it was a difficult thing to do, but in between taking care of kumiko and handling lighter missions, you’d find new ways to continue keeping your love and sex life exciting

nanami liked going slow with you too though whispering into your ears endless praises of how you were doing do well, settling into missionary so he could see how his thrusts still had the same effect it did on you years ago

“doing so well, sweetheart. that’s it… my pretty wife’s such a good girl f’r me.” 

nanami wasn’t against a second child, but sometimes he sees how much you go through in labour and in pregnancy that he becomes lightheaded with what could happen to you, especially with the unexpected illnesses that come with pregnancies. he told himself he would only grant you another if you ask for it

but then one day when kumiko prances up to you in the midst of her math homework, asking when she would get a little sibling and youre taken aback while nanami just chokes on his tea

yeah, sure, you taught her sex education way before her peers and how babies are made but you didn’t expect to actually ask the two of you straight up about having a sister or brother

that night, you mulled over the decision, and nanami mumbles into your neck from the back, ”don’t worry about kumiko, baby. she’ll probably forget it sooner or later.”

“but what if i want to give her one though?” you mumble, your smaller hand guiding his lower and lower…

“do you want to?” nanami only can suck in a breath when he feels your throbbing cunt, your nimble fingers showing his how you liked your clit to be rubbed. even if he knows you inside out he still lets you do it, “i do… do you, kento?”

his first name is whispered, breaking the tension and nanami has to hold himself back from handling you too roughly, loving the way you grin languidly.

oh, here comes round 2!

omg headcanons are so fun lol i never wrote 1k words so fast since they’re informal and chill

[giorno-plays-piano]

Proposal | Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader, Kento Nanami x reader, Sukuna Ryomen x reader

Warnings: fluff, some cursing, a little yandere-ish Sukuna, mention of pregnancy

Satoru knows everything about you, including the way you drink your coffee: he generously adds cream and that fancy caramel syrop he bought for the occasion in the cup he prepared for you, giggling like a child. He feels really proud about making his proposal so creative and unusual. Proposing with a cup! Isn't it sweet?

It's hard to keep a straight face when he hands you your coffee, but Satoru is trying so much, leaving a tender kiss on your temple as you smile. Then you're softly tugging him by the collar to make your shamelessly tall boyfriend bend down and give you a real kiss, and he complies without a word. He really knows everything about you, and yet, every single moment you spend together feels like a gift.

As he sits opposite you, devouring warm waffles you made him a couple of minutes ago, he does his best not to shift nervously in his seat. All his thoughts are about the face you'll make once you see the bottom of the cup. If Geto ever asked him about it, Gojo would always reply with the exasperated sigh that you'd accept. He loves you. He knows you love him, too, even if sometimes he turns into a literal manchild with a penchant for drama. But he's caring, soft-hearted, and ready to walk alongside you for the rest of your lives because he can't imagine spending it with anyone else. There's nothing he wouldn't give you.

It feels like you've been together for eternity, but it hasn't even been that long. He just... doesn't want to delay it anymore. What for? He knows he wants to see you in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle and smiling at him, shining in all beauty. Surely, you want the same?

The minute he sees your face changing, Satoru is jumping off his seat, hands shaking a little. You have just finished your coffee. You are now staring at "Will you marry me?" written beautifully at the bottom of the cup with googly eyes, blinking away tears.

The second you turn your head to him, he's already on one knee with a beautiful engagement ring he spent several weeks searching for, dragging Shoko to every decent jewelry store he spotted for "moral support".

You say yes before you even register what's happening, hugging the cup close to your chest like it's your greatest treasure.

Kento Nanami is not a nervous man by a mile, and yet he finds himself furrowing his brows as he pours down your favorite green tea in the new cup he secretly got you, mulling over the fact you might not find his proposal adequate. Wasn't it better to do it the old-fashioned way? Book a nice restaurant, buy you a huge bouquet of red roses, propose like any other decent man on his knee with a fancy ring...

"But it's really getting old," Shoko enlighted him as she handed him a perfectly normal cup in a box, tapping it with her slender finger. "Look, haven't you heard how Gojo proposed to his wife?"

Then Nanami sat there like a fool and listened to that story, questioning himself if the old-fashioned proposal was really the right way to go about it. You did joke he reminded you of an old man sometimes, and he certainly didn't want you to think that when he'd be proposing.

He still wonders how Shoko managed to change his mind in a heartbeat, but what's done is done. You are setting down the table while he is pouring green tea right into that famous cup, knowing you will see its bottom the second you take the cup into your hands.

Kento Nanami realizes he is sweating profusely, the red velvet box with your engagement ring burning a hole through the pocket of his dress pants. Are you going to say yes? There is't a day he was unsure of your feelings, but he can't help feeling a little self-conscious today. You didn't date long, to be fair, and yet he was convinced you were going to be his wife the second time he saw you. It was that simple.

He likes everything about you, regardless of how cringy it sounds when he tries to put it into words. The way you smile at him every morning after waking up, and how you look when you're packing him lunch before he leaves for work, and how your face lights up when he comes back, tired but happy to find you in his home. He is seriously thinking of changing his god-awful corporate job just to spend more time with you because you make him realize how precious the time you share together is. Marrying you is only logical when every moment he spends away from you, he thinks of coming back and having you pressed tightly against his chest.

Do you feel the same way?

He knows you do when you turn to him, smiling so wide it almost hurts, and he's on his knee before you can say a word. The next second, he is putting the ring on your finger and kissing your knuckles as you say yes, laughing, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Sukuna had never planned to propose. Hell no. Him? Marrying some woman? Whoever even joked about it was going to get their ass kicked. He never even cared for serious relationships, much less marriage that was akin shackling himself for some girl's advantage.

No, Sukuna is never going to get married.

And yet, he is standing in the kitchen in nothing but his gray sweats, holding this stupid cup with its stupid "Will you marry me?" all over its damn bottom. He wants to say he hates it, break it, and throw away the fragments before your eyes land on it, but he also sort of... doesn't.

He does want you to stay. Not like his girlfriend who comes and goes, but like... like someone who doesn't leave. Not now, not ever. Sure, he isn't stupid to believe marriages are binding people forever like they were half a century ago - Sukuna thinks it's a shame, really - but he knows you wouldn't leave. Not with a ring on your finger and his child in your tummy. But both things need work, and thus he is now standing in the middle of a kitchen like a fool, dumbly pouring you coffee in that fucking cup that's supposed to help him propose.

What a fucking pain.

"Can you give me my cup, please?" You ask, hurriedly putting his sandwiches in a lunch box for him to eat at work, and Sukuna nearly splashes coffee all over himself.

"Oi, can't you wait one more minute, woman?!" He yells, enraged he almost dropped the dumb cup and ruined the whole thing, and you immediately send him a death glare.

No, meek little girls wouldn't survive a day with Sukuna. You, on the other hand, are ready to fight him at any given moment, which is precisely what you are going to do now.

"I'm only asking for a cup of coffee, not a dry martini with a lemon twist!" You retort, furious at his attitude, and Sukuna does his best not to throw the kettle in the sink, instead shoving the cup into your manicured hands and turning away as quickly as he can.

This is going so wrong. Why can't he be at least a little more patient? It's his goddamn proposal, and he's fucking it up right from the start.

"You forgot to add sugar," you add dryly, and he thinks he's going to explode.

"JUST DRINK THE DAMN COFFEE, WOMAN!"

Maybe it could have scared anyone else, but you are a woman bending aluminum spoons with your stare, and Sukuna's outbursts aren't scaring you. Instead, you scream at him with the same intensity, "WHY SHOULD I DRINK THIS NASTY COFFEE?"

Sukuna is now fully turned to you, his face contorting in anger, "BECAUSE I CAN'T PROPOSE TO YOU WITHOUT IT!"

He realizes what he just said a second too late, slapping himself in disbelief as you're staring at him wide-eyed across the kitchen. What a fucking moron. He should've just proposed in a restaurant or some shit. How was he going to do the right thing now?

But you finish your coffee in two big gulps and then stare at the bottom of the cup with a dumbfounded expression like you never in a million years expected him to propose. Your eyebrows are so high on your forehead it almost looks comical.

"Are you for r-"

"Yes," he cuts you off impatiently, and you see, he really is nervous. "So, what? Are you going to marry me or not?"

He's going the wrong way about it from start to finish, and yet, it doesn't deter you as you nod, unable to utter a word. He has finally managed to leave you speechless.

Nice, Sukuna thinks before he draws you to him, giving you a heated kiss before you have the time to ask him why the hell couldn't he propose normally. Then he says, "Your dress fitting is on Tuesday. I'll text you the address."

"SUKUNA, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

________

Tags: @minshookie29

[cottonlemonade]

Secret Santa

word count: 1153 || avg. reading time: 5 mins

pairing: University AU!Ennoshita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: Hello 💖💖💖 At breakfast and lunch I'll get a 15 and 34 and then going back to study with Ennoshita, please??? Thank you 💖 || fluffy, crush to boyfriend Ennoshita, being part of the same club and celebrating Christmas together

There were pros and cons to spending Christmas abroad. The pros were that your family understood that shipping presents to them as a student would cost way too much so you agreed to only exchange cards this year - you had handmade yours and posted them weeks ago so they would arrive on time and could now bask in the unhurried coziness of late-December. Furthermore, Christmas in Japan was considered a couple’s holiday meaning you didn’t have to wistfully watch all your fellow students rush home over winter break to stuff themselves with all the holiday classics. But the lack of ever-present, sickeningly sweet merriment was also your main con.

You loved Christmas and wanted to get into the spirit and thus, after ditching your drama troupe at the convenience store, you snuck back into the campus theater on Friday afternoon to decorate before the premiere on Christmas Eve.

In your opinion, the bottom of the stage as well as the crammed backstage space was definitely in need of some paper garlands and maybe a bauble or two - or twenty.

“There you are.”

You spun around, your chubby fingers tangled in some fairy lights, and saw your stage manager Ennoshita walk down the aisle towards you.

“I was wondering where you hurried off to so suspiciously.”

You gave a playful pout and continued fiddling with a knot in the cable that somehow only seemed to make it worse.

“Please don’t make me take it down. I’ve come too far.”

He chuckled and shrugged off his backpack and jacket to set on a seat, then rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and looked at you with the same expectantly lost expression you usually gave him when you forgot your place.

You handed him a box of tinsel and he got to work.

“So, why the sudden need to Winter Wonderland the stage? Are you homesick?”

Leave it to him to read you like a book.

“Yeah. Kinda. But I dunno, it’s less homesickness than more… general… nostalgic yearning, if that makes sense.”

He nodded as he distributed strings of gold all along the green garlands.

“I’ve never left Japan and I don’t even know what it would feel like to miss my family since they live so close. Plus, I can’t imagine I would miss my little brother that much.”

His dry tone made you laugh.

“It’s more so that I miss the Christmas experience.”, you explained, “The food, the singing, the gift exchanging. Or going ice skating. I’ve never been but always wanted to. And then later listen to my mom and grandma gossip over a late-night cup of tea.”

You finally managed to free a few small light bulbs only to immediately encounter another knot.

“I was thinking of suggesting something cheesy like Secret Santa to the troupe but I didn’t want to pressure anyone. Plus, what if you get someone who you don’t like or even worse, someone you do like and then have to get them a super crappy gift so they don’t know that you’re into them.”

He cocked a brow. “Is that … is that a possibility?”

“Of course! We’re all one awkward yet iconic New Year’s party away from being the cast of High School Musical.”

“No, I meant, you like someone?”

For a split second you considered confessing to him right then and there that ever since you’d seen him goof off during dress rehearsals of the summer play you’d been drooling over those soft sweaters he wore and dreamily doodled his name into your notepads. But the fact that he was still busying himself with the tinsel and didn’t look at you with pining hopeful eyes made you think better of it. Realizing your pause had been going on for quite some time you opted for a simple No. And then ruined it immediately by adding, “Imagine how weird it would be if I was. Hello waiter, could I have a plate of sweet and spicy daydreams with a side of delusions, please? - hehe ahem. W-why do you ask? Do you like someone?”

“Yes, I do.”

On the one hand, you were grateful that apparently all the time you spent together already had made him immune to your ramblings but on the other hand that sounded a bit too casual and came out a bit too fast. You squinted at him.

“Uh huuuh, anyone I know? Is it someone in the club?”

He hesitated, then continued his task. “Yes and yes.”

“Oh okay, didn’t think you’d give that up so easily. Have you told them yet?”

He shook his head and you wouldn’t be you without giving unsolicited advice, “Well there’s no time like Christmas to do so, if you ask me. New Year’s break is coming up so even if it goes south - which it won’t unless they're an idiot - you don’t have to see them for a bit and can come back pretending like nothing ever happened. Foolproof.”

“Foolproof, huh?”, Ennoshita had reached the end of his tinseling and smiled at you, “I’ll think about it.”

The premiere a few days later was a smashing success and the applause kept on going for many extra curtain calls. When Ennoshita hurried on stage to receive his portion of cheers, he came to stand next to you, naturally grabbing your hand for a collective bow which sent tingles through your body. Filled with the rush of a job well done you only realized once you were backstage again that you were still holding his hand and dropped it like a hot potato.

“I’m sorry!”

He just smiled and shrugged. “No worries. You should go get changed so we can all head to dinner.”

“Yes! Yes. You’re right. Imma be so fast. Be right back.” And with that display of poise, you snatched your backpack and rushed to the bathrooms.

Other girls were already removing their stage makeup and applying new dewy lip gloss while you slipped into a stall to peel yourself out of your costume, relieved when you rolled the skintight overall past your squishy tummy and took your first deep breath in hours. When you opened the flap of your shoulder bag to get your clothes you saw a little box sitting on top, wrapped in red and green with a small golden bow. A tag hung from the knot that read - For Y/n, From Your Secret Santa. The relaxed chatter of the other bathroom occupants was drowned out by the pounding in your chest and your body practically vibrated from excitement. You sat on the lid of the toilet and curiously opened the gift to find a silver keychain with a pair of ice skates dangling from the end. A neatly written paper slip lay underneath.

Will you go out with me? was penned on it in a handwriting you were all too familiar with from your many many stage directions.

a/n: request for @ennoshitas-princess

Thank you so much for this fun holiday themed request! I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟 and merry Christmas!

[sunraies]

hiiii can u do rafe x reader? she is really shy and a very nice person and maybe she is jj twin and one day she is just browsing on a second habd bookstore cause obvi she cant afford to buy books all the time and rafe sees her there cause he took weezy there and he buys the books that she looked more interested at and later he approaches her and jj all protective

idk where i want it to go🤣 u can be tyr judge

thank uuuu

This is so cute! I hope this does the request justice. x

Second-Hand Books

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - Fluff, protective JJ, Reader is JJ's sister, but no description given. Hints of Luke being a shit dad.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You loved the second-hand bookstore in Kildare. It sometimes felt like a second home. Its name and sign was by no means magical "Secondhand Books" written in cursive golden letters, but the atmosphere was.

The old converted shop was a treasure trove of wonders, tucked away in a little side alley. It smelt like an old library with its shelves filled with countless stories and adventures waiting to be picked up and read. There were plants dotted all around, and even ivy tangled amongst the fairy lights on the ceiling.

Mixed matched lamps, tables, and plush armchairs were scattered around. If you caught Ms. Peggy, on a good day, she would let you sit and read until closing. The old lady enjoyed your company, often making you tea and giving you cookies.

You returned the favour by helping clean, unbox shipments, and take orders. You never accepted a penny from her, even if it was desperately needed it.

"Wheeze, why are we here?" You knew that voice as it carried through the aisles. "The store up the road has brand new books, not these dusty, old shit ones."

"They aren't dusty. Some are old. But none are shit." the youngest Cameron's voice protested. "I like it here. Plus, there is no chance of finding first editions of classics in that one"

"Just look online." Rafe sighed as you peaked around the corner.

He stood close to the door, which bell had jingled as they entered, with his hands stuffed in his shorts pockets. The backwards baseball cup gave him a boyish charm as his sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his pink tee.

He looked a little out of place, but only by his uninterested expression. Rafe Cameron would most likely fit in anywhere if he wasn't jugding his surroundings.

Wheezie, on the other hand, had a smile so bright as she practically skipped into the store. "There is no fun in that. You can't smell the books"

"You're a weird kid, Wheeze." Rafe shook his head, but you caught the small smile as he watched his baby sister happily search the shelves.

"Shut up and help look for Little Women." Wheezie called over her shoulder. "Make sure it's first edition"

You were shocked as Rafe chuckled and held up his hands before helping Wheezie look. He checked the higher shelves that she was unable to reach.

One problem with Ms. Peggy was her store had no order to it. You had offered to organise and arrange in alphabetical order, but she claimed it took away the magic of finding the perfect book.

"Here." You smiled as you approached Wheezie. Rafe had given up looking about 20 minutes ago and was slumped in an armchair, scrolling on his phone. "It's not a first edition, but the cover is beautiful."

"Oh. It's beautiful!" Wheeze smiled, taking the book and admiring the cover. "It's ok, I just said that, so it would give me more time in here." she whispered, making you laugh.

Your laugh caught Rafe’s attention as he quickly glanced up from his phone. His eyes looked you up and down.

Damn, how did you look so beautiful. He was sure he'd seen the crop top you were wearing on Kie before, but it looked so much better on you. He loved the way your shorts hugged your ass and waist. He even smiled a little at the shell anklet at the top of your greyish white Converse.

"You find it?" He asked, having shook the thoughts from his mind and tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Yeah, Miss Maybank helped me," Wheezie smiled, remembering her manners, even if you were the same age as Sarah. "But I wanna look around some more."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes at her pleading look. "Alright, fine. One hour, and then we gotta go."

As Wheezie bounced around the store, he flopped back into the chair, even picking up a book from the table and glancing at it.

What you didn't realise was that as you looked away, he would glance over the top of the book every so often and watched as you moved around the store. He noticed that you would read the back of a book, flick to the first page before smiling and tucking under your arm if you like it.

"Just the one, Ms Peg." You smiled at the old lady behind the till before digging into your old, tattered, looking tote bag and pulling out your purse.

"I can put the others to the side for you, dear." She offered as you had walked up to the till with a pile of five.

"It's ok. If they are gone by next week, then it wasn't meant to be." You said as handed her the cash.

You didn't know why you even admitted to buying all five as you should have known your card would bounce. Maybe this time, you had just been hoping that Luke, your father, hadn't run up the credit bill.

You wished a goodbye to Wheezie as she walked up the counter with a pile of books and even gave Rafe a smile and wave as you left the store.

*-*-*-*

The sound of a dirt bike coming up the road broke you out of the world you were emersied in. You had been reading your new book on the creaky old porch swing on the porch outside. Enjoying the evening coolish before sunset.

At first, you thought it was JJ coming home, but then you realised he'd come home an hour ago with John B and Pope. You could hear them laughing in the house.

"JJ?!" You called into the window open as you stood up, placing your book on your blanket. "Are you guys expecting anyone?"

You were a little nervous as unplanned visits from people not in the Twinkie or Kie's car normally meant your father or JJ had caused trouble.

The rider stopped a few feet away, and your eyes widened in shock as Rafe Cameron removed his helmet. His hair tousled from the helmet and his cheeks little pink.

"Rafe?" You frowned and hugged your hoodie around your body as you hid your hands in your sleeves.

He looked a little unsure of himself as he walked over to you, a cotton tote bag in his hand. "These are for you." He held the bag out to you as he glanced around, not looking at you directly.

You took the bag, completely confused before gasping as you looked inside. It was the books you had to leave at the store.

Before you even had a chance to question it or say thank you, the screen door burst open as JJ came flying out "What the fuck are you doing here, Kook?"

You tried to pull him back as he got right in Rafe’s face "Jayj. Stop"

JJ looked between you and Rafe "What the fuck did he say to you?" He asked you before turning to Rafe again "What'd you say?"

"What's it to you, Pogue" Rafe looked like he was trying to hold back his anger but with JJ right in his personal space it was hard.

"Stay away from my sister, pretty boy" JJ pushed Rafe a little "Get the fuck outta here"

John B and Pope appeared in the doorway but before they could back up JJ, you got between the two that were squaring up to each other.

You stood with your back to Rafe as you spoke to JJ but could feel him breathing heavily behind you.

"Jayj. Go back inside" You sighed and got annoyed as he stared at Rafe over your head "JJ, go the fuck back inside. I will call if I need you"

It took you actually pushing JJ a little for him to snap out of it. He looked at you before nodding "He tries anything. We beat him. He's on our terf now"

You rolled your eyes "I'm sure, he won't. But sure, you boys can protect your territory if needed"

You knew Rafe was taking a risk being in The Cut, especially after the stunt he pulled the other week. You knew why the boys were bitter as you hadn't been too happy either after finding out he'd jumped Pope at the Country Club.

You watched JJ walk backwards and stand on the porch with the others. You sighed before turning to face Rafe.

"I can't take these." You held the bag out to him, but he stook his head.

"They're yours," He said, rubbing the neck of his neck. He seemed nervous and not because of the boys glaring at him from the porch. "Bin them, read them, do whatever you want with them."

You looked in the bag again before smiling. "Thank you, Rafe." You smiled at him.

"I better go." He sighed after nodding at your thanks. He looked like he wanted to say more but walked back to his bike

"Bye," JJ yelled. "Don't come back. The Cu- Ow!" You cut him off as you shoved into his shoulder

"You guys are fucking unbelievable" You muttered walking into the house, leaving them looking offerened at each other.

As you sat on your bed, you pulled the books out of the bag before finding a note, tucked into one of them. Your heart fluttered as you read it.

'I would buy you all the books in the world, just to see that smile - R'

[sincerelygarden]

Secrets accumulate atop my tongue, making beds in rooftop ridges and gap teeth.

After dinner I spit them out, all blue and crazed in a bathroom sink on another Sunday.

A girl prays to a god she feels unworthy to be loved by-

anything, or everything, or nothing at all

It is the wonder every September:

I feel her heart beat again.

My feet

thump,

thump,

thumping atop gravel.

"Listen," she says.

"Do you hear that?

Do you feel that?"

I try.

I stretch my arms down a drain,

frantically searching for the means to scream, to be anything, or everything, or nothing at all.

I tried honey—

scooping her out,

desperate and stretched,

goop thickening the walls,

syrup-like and sorry for making everything worse

much worse than ever before.

I give up.

I follow the ant trail to a sad pillow,

heating up the center where agony breaks free.

I follow the ant trail to therapy every Monday at 11, and say much yet nothing at all.

I follow the ant trail to the walls I wish I’d step outside of.

I try honey once more.

I shower it over myself in hopes the thing inside is able to thin it out in time,

like tea on an anxious Tuesday.

But my sisters are perhaps weary of what clings to their shoes,

of hands stuck upon doorknobs and kitchen sinks and Wednesday’s dinner engulfed in goop.

I follow it to a mirror.

I am frightened to believe what I have become.

I run to the supermarket and make a mountain of salt in aisle 24,

hoping to counteract the monstrous situation upon me,

smothered in the taste of all the things I needed to say,

in the sour shame coming back home all the same

My god!

on old clocks, windowsills, light switches, and more pillows, cold pillows on lone Thursdays,

Forget the mirrors!

I must not look at myself

slugging around and destroying a home I’ve made none but my own.

Oh but

She is in picture frames,

Lovely and light and easy to hold

behind glass, handled with care.

Pity is dreaded fear, a pungent knock I want to ignore every time.

I weep onto the smile, the what-was, a known.

I try once more,

stretching myself down the drain,

uncertainty a growing depression—a well-known symptom of a heart beating faintly on Friday, under layers of each day before.

She is somewhere in the hollow parts,

in the shadow dancing on the edge of what lives outside,

in the music sticking onto a seen but unexperienced.

Saturday, I am the soles of hurried feet,

thump, thump, thumping like knocking—a thunderous prayer possibly heard.

I follow it to my mother’s voice,

and my father’s wisdom,

and my sisters' cheers—

shoes kept neatly in spaces just for me.

Is she worthy of love?

My god!

Is she!?

To follow the ant trail to the old town lived once before-

She is there!

I feel her heart beat again,

trying to be

anything,

or everything,

or nothing at all.

My heart,

the center where agony breaks free!?

Do you hear it?

Do you feel it?

Thump,

thump,

thumping atop gravel.

An ant trail follows me down to

the places that consume me.

She tastes the sweet outpour of will,

or anything, or everything, or nothing at all.

A girl prays to god, on a Sunday-

Thump,

thump,

thumping..

Do you hear me?

[mistydeyes]

miss americana: ghost edition

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series summary: The 141 has varying thoughts about Americans which range from finding them wildly entertaining to thinking they’re the worst people on earth. However you challenge their perspectives when you meet them. Something about you makes them feel a little more patriotic ;)

read gaz's edition here!

summary: Living in the UK has been quite a transition for you and there's a few things Simon doesn't mind pointing out (or making fun of you for)

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x American!reader

warnings: swearing

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the way you make tea is CRIMINAL to him.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked, startling you and causing you to lightly tip over your mug of lukewarm water. “Jesus, Simon,” you gasped, “I’m making some tea.” He did a double take as he examined the mug in your hand and the partially opened microwave.“You have the microwave open?” “Yeah to heat the water,” you responded as if he was asking a rudimentary question. At that moment, Simon could’ve had a heart attack. He quickly went over to you and dumped the water into a stovetop kettle. You crossed your arms over your chest, wondering what had gotten into your boyfriend. To your curiosity, you watched as he heated it until the kettle whistled. He poured it gently into your mug and placed a tea bag in it. “Here,” he said as he handed it to you, “that’s how you make tea.” “I don’t see the difference,” you mumbled before gingerly sipping on your tea and giving him a quick kiss.

He entertains the amazement you have when you see something that you swore was only distinctly “American.”

“You have hot dogs here?” you practically shouted seeing a stand with your favorite mystery meat. He looked at you bewildered as you stopped to stare at the stand. It was autumn and the leaves colorful leaves lay perfectly around the stand. "It's beautiful," you whispered as the sunset illuminated the bright red hotdog meat on the plastic sign. "It's a hot dog stand." Simon replied flatly, "You make it seem like it's the second coming or something." You shot a look back at him as your stomach slightly grumbled. Before you could say anything, Simon pulled you along with your hand firmly placed in his. "We're having dinner at Price's," he reminded as you pouted at his brisk pace. "But Simon," you began to plead before he cut you off. "It's the same thing you get back into America," he informed and you nodded at the commonality of the stand, "probably a little better though."

When you’re in public, he’ll be sure to let you know if you’re talking too loud.

"AND THEN" you practically yelled as you walked around the grocer's. Simon gave a death glare to the stares that met your loud mouth. "Mind just lowering your voice a little, love?" he asked politely as he continued to push the cart down the aisles. "Sorry," you sheepishly replied, "just used to everyone being deaf back at home." You sighed, missing the loud, noisy streets of your hometown and the boisterous laughter and comments from your friends. You just naturally spoke in a louder tone to compensate for it. "It's alright," he comforted, "people here can barely speak over a whisper." You shared a laugh as you continued your conversation without care. You could feel your homesickness temporarily wash away in the moment. It also helped that Simon met any judgmental eyes with a look of absolute menace. 

You initially thought him not smiling was only a characteristic distinct to him but you soon caught on to the British way of melancholy or blank stares.

"Why does everyone look so sad here?" you whispered to him as you sat on the tube. After a casual dinner, you looked around to see the other passengers silently looking at their phones or out the window. "It's like everyone has a perpetual frown on their face," you continued as you looked up at him. "Just the way people are," he replied in an attempt to answer your question, "you all are so smiley in the US." You looked at him shocked and put a dramatic hand to your heart. "Not my fault we're just so friendly," you mumbled as he pulled you back into his side. You continued to sit in silence as the train car screeched along the tracks and the train car began to empty. With a handful of stops left, you felt the need to continue the conversation. "You know, I thought it was just you, but I guess it's just a UK thing," you joked before returning to look back at your phone. As you sat there in silence, Simon couldn't help but love the little things you said that always kept him wondering.

Simon will never understand the beauty that is a bacon, egg, and cheese on an everything bagel from a New York bodega after a night of drinking.

"Good morning," Simon smiled, slightly more chipper than usual. You looked back at him as he tussled his messy bedhead. You had gone out for a rare night of drinking with his team and it was clear that someone was feeling a little hungover at the moment. "What are you making?" he asked as he poured you both a cold glass of water. You smiled as you turned around with your masterpiece on a plate. "I made something special," you giddily answered as you pushed it towards him, "this is a New York specialty." As he placed the sandwich in his mouth, you continued. "Here we have expertly prepared strips of bacon, two eggs, and sliced, American cheese of the finest quality. Everything has been cooked to optimal temperature to burst in your mouth and it all lies on a bed of a perfectly toasted, everything bagel," you presented as you smelt the delicacy of your creation in the air. "It's a sandwich," he replied as he swallowed and you rolled your eyes. "It's not just any sandwich, Simon," you corrected, "it is essential to the morning after drinking." He nodded unimpressed as he continued to munch on his breakfast sandwich. "If you don't want it though, I can always take it," you began to say but you were met with his hands snatching it off the plate. "Mhmm that's what I thought big man." 

Despite always correcting you, he smiles a bit at your little phrases and terms.

On a slow morning, you walked over to the couch and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Got any plans today?” you asked and he let out a small grunt in response. “I’m thinking we go to the movies,” you suggested. “You mean the cinema?” he cheekily asked and you rolled your eyes. “Whatever, let’s get dressed.” When you arrived, you walked with Simon and saw the growing line to enter the theater. “C’mon babe, let’s wait in line,” you said, walking towards the back and you failed to see his shit-eating grin. “It’s the queue,” he joked, clear sarcasm in his voice and you groaned at his antics. 

Finally, the last straw was when you exited the movie and you wanted to relax at home with a good glass of wine. You put up with the teller, sweets, loo, and chips but you drew the line when it came to the next term. Simon’s arm was slung on your shoulder as you discussed the film when you remembered the lack of alcohol at home. “Si, can we stop at the liquor store?” you asked, innocently and you could see a signature smirk flash across his face. “You mean the off-license?” he replied and you lost it. “Oh shut up or I won’t have my parents ship those Costco jeans you love so much!” you replied and his snarky comments silenced. You knew how much he loved those bargain pants that were surprisingly sturdy. He nodded in response before placing a kiss on your angry forehead. “You’re a shithead,” you exclaimed and before he could interject with another term, you put up your hand to silence him, “not another word, London boy.” God, how Simon wanted to correct you and say he was from Manchester.

[bakerstreethound]

What if Mornings Were Good?

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x gender neutral reader

Warnings: melancholy, brain fog, themes of anxiety & depression, yes the car has a CD player, sherlock is soft, and cuddles and kisses

Summary: Days pass in a blur, and they've been hard to find joy in, each one passing slowly, yet quickly simultaneously and you want it to slow down. Luckily, Sherlock is there to comfort and support you along the way, though your mind is intent on bullying you and causing you anxiety for the future and everything in between.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: Hello lovelies. Was this fic perhaps a projection about how I have been feeling the past few weeks? Perhaps. Alas, it is better to get it out and create from the doubt and worry. This is only a brief example of my own experience and everyone processes differently. Your experiences are valid. Please enjoy! Graphic by @firefly-graphics Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Mornings were a struggle. Getting out of bed, battling your mind for the things you should do then not doing them. It was annoying so much that you’d rather sleep the day away the anxious ball of depression pressing down on you not wanting you to breathe, not wanting to let you go.

It was hard to eat too, forcing something down and swallowing while trying to enjoy it never helped either, but it was the best you could do. 

Such a morning as now where you got yourself out of bed at noon, feeling less than groggy, yet your heart ached less. As you went through your morning routine or half a semblance of it, making your bed, changing into shorts and a comfortable graphic tea, you looked at the list you conjured on your phone the late hours of the night prior. 

Gas, coffee, flowers, craft (maybe watercolors)

It was a doable list and you gather your things, your large satchel filled with your notebook and a paperback, before going to check your mail. 

Your mail made you cringe at the tax return, making you worried if it was fraudulent. You would worry about it later. You had to. You did not want to cause any more trouble for yourself than you had the past few weeks with the University starting up for the last time. The last time, was your last semester in academia. How terrifying. 

You shove these thoughts away, adamant not to dwell on them, for your mind would spiral and spin. That was not a good outcome, either, to worry about that which might not come to pass. 

So you do what you do best and breathe, pushing the intrusive thoughts aside, and let yourself wander up and down the aisles of the grocery store, smelling the flowers, and picking a selection of purple and white. You smile to yourself, wondering at the quiet joy, and add a frozen pizza to your basket and checkout, looking forward to the rest of your adventure. 

A trip out of the apartment is what you usually need to curb the fog and storms that hover in the furthest reaches of your mind. It can be cruel there to you, endless worry. Someway you will feel better.

You repeat this mantra as you find yourself stuck in traffic on the short drive home, slightly cursing at your beat down car that hobbled along for seven years, on the verge of breaking down with an engine struggling to keep up, another expense after the other.

Your check engine light going off the other day didn’t help matters, either but your mechanic assured you he would get a better look that weekend, especially since it is an exhaust leak. 

You breathe tuning in to the CD player thrumming with the rotation of your favorite band’s music, a soothing balm to your soul. Then you are singing alone and then, you’re back safe at home. The craft store was closed so you couldn’t fetch your watercolors, but it doesn’t matter now. 

The door of your apartment opens and Sherlock is there greeting you with a soft smile, gentle and warm. He is not supposed to be back until later in the day, but you aren’t complaining, especially when his eyes lock onto yours in question, his lips twitching in eagerness. 

“Welcome home!” 

“Thank you, my dear.”

“Find anything interesting?” He takes your bag from your shoulder, a welcome relief before pulling you into a gentle hug, his scent a comfort, stirring a warmth within you. You can stay like this for hours and he knows it. 

You murmur against his neck, pressing a kiss there and nuzzling further. Your mind is exhausted for no reason, well besides the panic and worry over an uncertain future, but you have five more months to figure it out, apply for jobs, and trudge on. It is all you can do. That and prayer. 

He brings your bags to the kitchen, putting your purchases that need to be refrigerated away. He stops when he sees the flowers and holds them out to you. 

“Where would you like these?” he asks almost sheepishly, mentally kicking himself that he didn’t get you any, let alone stop to think about it. John would give him an earful about it, later. 

“In this vase,” you say, pulling it from the sink from where you had left it to dry the previous night. You find a pair of scissors and set those on the cluttered table as well, watching Sherlock carefully unwrap the flowers, trimming their stems like so, while you gently arrange them to your heart's content. 

You can’t think of a more perfect time than this - a moment of peace, though your stomach involuntarily coils in knots, overthinking the rest of your week, wondering how the hell you are going to make it and do your school work and tasks. The thought makes you ill as you think back to your topic assignment, the reminders of revisions going through your mind.

You have sent the email to change the topic and you are hopeful that the change will be allowed. You wish your mind isn’t so insistent on choosing one thing then letting yourself fall, then wanting to pick another topic better suited for your interests.

You don’t know why it insists on throwing you into a box for no reason, and consequently making your mind and body become at war again.

A ping goes off from your phone email. The knots in your stomach clench and unclench as you read the new response from your professor. All will be okay, the request for topic change is approved along with an extension for the literature review preview. You almost cry in relief, your shoulders sagging, tension bleeding from you when Sherlock locks eyes with you. 

“I knew you’d be okay, my dear,” he rumbles. 

You hiccup, “I never feel like I will be. Brain is insistent and rude yet here we are. Everything has turned out okay.” Perhaps some mornings can be splendid, after all. 

You fall into Sherlock’s waiting embrace, clinging to him as you wrap around him while he stumbles to the living room, depositing you on the sofa before turning on the telly and fetching an assortment of DVDs. These are the DVDs you recognize from your childhood, along with an assortment of your favorite spooky season picks. You pick up The Corpse Bride, watching Sherlock’s lips twitch in amusement. 

“Knew you’d choose it.” 

“Who said I wouldn’t?” 

“John,” he says matter-of-factly, sliding the movie into the console. 

You chuckle. Of course, they bet on your movie selections. It’s what they do when Sherlock is bored, or John can’t get Sherlock motivated to work on what he considers a “boring, good for nothing case.

Regardless, you open your arms to him, smiling as he sets a favorite book of yours on the coffee table, before settling in your embrace as you wrap the two of you in a well-loved blanket. 

Yes, perhaps an entire day can be splendid indeed. 

******

[muzaktomyears]

Yoko said to me: ‘I was told John was in danger in New York’

Elliot Mintz was the friend with whom John Lennon and Yoko Ono spent some of their most private moments. Now he has written a book in which he reveals what went on after the former Beatle was murdered in 1980

John Lennon and Yoko Ono in New York on November 26, 1980, just days before his death

Part of me started to wonder if perhaps I’d acted rashly. My mother had heard a radio report about a shooting on 72nd Street. The Lennons were not answering their phones. The Dakota operator had hung up on me. Was that enough to send me racing to the airport to catch the last flight to New York? But then I saw a flight attendant exit the cockpit, tears streaming down her cheeks. As she hesitatingly made her way down the aisle, I reached out and touched her arm.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “They killed him,” she answered, gulping back a sob. “They murdered John Lennon.”

For a long moment I found it impossible to process what I’d been told. And then, like a flash fire in the brainpan, the horror of what happened exploded in my consciousness. “John is dead,” I whispered to myself. My best friend was gone. My heart began to race, I found myself gasping for air. I literally doubled over in pain as my whole body absorbed the shock.

Lennon, Ono and Elliot Mintz outside the Mampei hotel in Karuizawa, Japan, in 1977

I don’t know how long I sat, crumpled in agony, but eventually I regained a modicum of composure. I realised I had to marshal my thoughts and plan what to do once the plane touched down at JFK. I needed to pull myself together, bury my grief, and be strong for Yoko and Sean.

I had seen John just a few weeks earlier, in New York; he and Yoko and I had spent a long evening at the Dakota listening to their soon-to-be-dropped Double Fantasy album. At around two in the morning I said my goodbyes. John walked me to the door.

“Remember,” he cautioned me, “walk on the side of the street where the doormen are. Don’t walk on the side of the street next to the park.” “John,” I said, “I grew up in New York. I know how to walk in this city.” That was the last time I saw him.

Lennon and Ono at home with their son, Sean

By the time I got to the Dakota, at around 7.30am, at least 5,000 people had gathered on 72nd Street. At the request of Richie De Palma, Studio One’s office manager, a couple of officers helped me across the police cordon. Suddenly, I was face-to-face with the crime scene: there was blood on the pavement as well as shards of broken glass from a window shattered by one of the bullets.

I rode the elevator to the seventh floor. The Lennons’ housekeeper, Masako, let me in. It was clear she’d been crying. “Yoko-san in bedroom,” she said in broken English. “Door locked.”

I paused at the closed door, then gently knocked. “Yoko, it’s Elliot,” I told her softly. “I’ll be right outside until you are ready to see me. I’m not going anywhere.”

After about five minutes, I saw the door open a crack. I stood up and peered inside the bedroom, illuminated by the big-screen TV, which was showing live local news footage of the Dakota. Yoko had been watching, with the volume off. Even though the windows were shut and the shutters closed, I could hear the music from seven floors below. The sound of mourners on the street singing John’s lyrics would fill the apartment for days to come.

Lennon surrounded by fans in New York in August 1980

Standing by the bed, wearing silk pajamas and a kimono, Yoko looked incredibly frail. I reached over and gingerly put my arm around her. She touched my face, then crawled back into bed.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked her. “There’s nothing anybody can do,” she weakly responded. “Have you eaten anything? Can I bring a cup of tea?” “Elliot,” she answered, “your presence is comforting. You don’t have to say or do anything.”

I sat down in my usual spot, the white wicker chair, and we both watched the images flickering on the TV. For a while, my eyes wandered around the room, eventually settling on John’s bedside table, where I spotted a pile of books — it was an eclectic stack, to say the least, everything from The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir to Your Child’s Teeth: A Parent’s Guide to Making and Keeping Them Perfect by Stephen J Moss. Yoko’s reading material was similarly varied.

Suddenly, a picture of the suspect appeared on the screen. Yoko sat up and stared intently at the mug shot of the assailant; she seemed both mesmerised and repulsed — and deeply confused — by the face of the man who had murdered her husband.

The following weeks were a blur. I spent a lot of them downstairs at Studio One, joining a staff of four or five employees, fielding a never-ending barrage of phone calls. At one point early on, an assistant held out a phone for me. “He says he’s Ringo Starr,” she whispered. Ringo was calling from a pay phone and wanted to make a condolence call with his girlfriend (now wife), Barbara. I ended up sneaking them into the building through a back entrance.

“I know exactly how you feel,” Ringo told her when she greeted him and Barbara in her bedroom. “No, you don’t,” Yoko replied, “but I’m grateful you are here.”

One evening, just a day or two after John’s murder, I returned to the apartment to find Julian Lennon sitting alone in the kitchen. He was now 17 and had just flown in from London by himself to pay his respects. (He told me later that the flight was filled with passengers reading papers covered with headlines about his father’s killing.) John and Julian had made some repairs to their estranged relationship, but Julian had practically no relationship with Yoko or with his half-brother, Sean.

“Would you look after Julian?” Yoko asked me. “It’s so depressing here. Take him around New York, show him different places.”

She was asking partially as a kindness to Julian but also as a mercy to herself. Yoko was in no condition to deal with John’s grieving teenage son; she could barely handle her own child’s grief. Sean reminded her so much of John, she found it painful to be in the same room with him, so he and his nanny were dispatched to the Lennons’ vacation home in Florida.

Police outside the Dakota, the apartment complex where Lennon was killed

I found the idea of sightseeing with Julian a bit odd, but we ended up spending a day together, culminating with a trip to the viewing deck atop the World Trade Center. It was one of the few pleasant interludes in an otherwise unbearable stretch of misery.

One of the other assignments I took up around this time was reading through the bags of hate mail. The most worrying ones were flagged for further investigation by law enforcement and shared with Yoko’s private security, who started pinning the names and descriptions of the senders on a bulletin board at Studio One.

I was always running into bodyguards in the kitchen. The irony was impossible to miss: this house built on love and peace was now filled with guns. At one point, even I started carrying a snub-nosed .38 revolver in an ankle holster. I was also provided with a bulletproof vest. One of the few times I recall willingly slipping into it was when a man fitting the description of one of the assailant’s fan club letter writers was spotted on the street outside the Dakota.

He was a tall, young, otherwise innocuous-looking fellow. I approached him carefully and asked him for the time. When he lifted his wrist to look at his watch, I could see under his jacket what appeared to be the butt of a gun.

I quickly returned to the Dakota lobby and called the police. They arrived in minutes, pushed him against a wall, discovered what was indeed a weapon, and hurried him away.

Julian Lennon, Ono, Mintz and Sean Lennon at the dedication of Strawberry Fields as a memorial to Lennon in New York in 1984

Nearly as shocking and upsetting as the dangers that were swirling outside the Dakota were the perils lurking inside. Yoko would learn that some of her most trusted confidants were scheming against her. By far the worst offender was an assistant named Fred Seaman, a trusted aide who, earlier in the year, accompanied John on a trip to Bermuda — the trip on which John wrote many of the songs for Double Fantasy.

Incredibly, almost immediately after the murder, Seaman began smuggling shopping bags stuffed with private papers from the Lennon offices and residences — including five personal journals that John kept hidden under his bed — hauling them uptown to the apartment of his accomplice, Robert Rosen, as part of a scheme to write a tell-all book. We eventually got the diaries back, and Seaman ended up pleading guilty to second-degree larceny.

Yoko found herself surrounded by traitors. Whom could she turn to? For a while, she leaned on the companionship of her friend and interior designer Sam Havadtoy, who not only moved into the Dakota but began sharing a bedroom with Yoko, although not the one she had slept in with John. This struck many on her staff as curious. Although Havadtoy was undeniably charming, appeared to have Yoko’s best interests at heart, and was terrific with Sean, he was also a gay man.

Yoko continued to grow more and more wary of just about everyone around her. I don’t know if I ever fell under Yoko’s suspicion but I do recall one moment when she and I came dangerously close to a serious argument, after I implored Yoko to let me conduct a radio interview with her and Sean to dispel some of the more outrageous rumours being spun about the Lennon family following the publication of Albert Goldman’s book about John, like the notion that he was an abusive husband and father (who once allegedly kicked Sean across a room); and that he was a drugged-out recluse, possibly schizophrenic, and an enthusiastic devotee of Thai prostitutes.

“I’ve never asked you to comment about any of the other books, but this one we can’t ignore,” I told her. Yoko paused for a moment, then responded. “Let me check with my advisers,” she said, meaning her team of tarot readers and numerologists.

Mourners at a vigil for Lennon shortly after his death

I’d never expressed scepticism about Yoko’s mystical beliefs but for once, I pushed back. “Yoko, let me ask you something,” I said. “If these advisers are as good as you believe they are, why is it that none of them saw what was going to happen to John? Why was there no warning?”

Yoko’s answer astonished me. “Elliot,” she said, “how do you know I wasn’t warned? Did you ever ask me if there were warnings?”

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll ask you: Did any of your advisers warn you about John being in danger?” “Yes,” she answered. “I was told he was in danger in New York and that he should be removed immediately. That’s why I sent him to Bermuda over the summer … But I couldn’t keep him away forever. He had to come back at some point.”

I was speechless. “Look, Elliot,” Yoko went on, “you know how John felt about his own safety. We talked about this at our kitchen table when your friend [the actor Sal Mineo] was killed. John said, ‘If they’re going to get you, they’re going to get you.’ It didn’t matter what my advisers told me. He didn’t believe in bodyguards, he wouldn’t put up with them. He wanted to be free.”

(source)

[radioisntdead]

Maybe one day I could learn to love you..

Alastor x reader, Human au!

Summary:

Alastor and reader are put in an arranged marriage and, one of them falls and the other doesn't know where he stands.

Warnings!

Murder, death, inaccurate portrayal of the 1920's??, OOC, this was edited but there are probably misspellings around, not beta read [How do I acquire a beta reader??] Me projecting my Aroace vibes onto the reader and Alastor, reader is implied to be afab (is that the right term?) because 1920's but GN, also reader is put in a wedding dress.

Song

You and Alastor didn't know each other super well, you knew each other well enough to be friends but not super close, the only way the two of you even met was because his mother was a close friend of yours,

The two of you were "getting up there in age." and "should marry soon."

Frankly neither of you wanted to get married but you couldn't exactly express that to your folks, and Alastor couldn't bare to see his mother sad that she wouldn't be able to see her only child start a family.

There was only so many times you could use the "haven't met the right person'' excuse before they decided to set you and Alastor up.

You and Alastor sat at a café to see how things play out and long story short agreed that it would be beneficial for the two of you to wed, a marriage of convenience.

His mother would be satisfied in thinking her son wouldn't be alone when she was gone, and your parents wouldn't nag at you, saying you'd become a spinster.

You sat in a dressing room, in a beautiful white dress, your mother was right outside along with a few family members, you could barely make out their voices saying how excited they were.

You looked into the mirror, your makeup was beautifully done, hair done up like a princess's

Anxiety filled you, you wondered if you would feel like this if you were marrying someone you had romantic feelings for?

You shook your head and took a deep breath, standing up you opened the door, being greeted by smiling faces.

Can we become we,

You walked down the aisle, a painted smile plastered on your face.

No longer known as just you and me

Alastor continually smiled, not breaking it as the two of you exchanged vows.

he gently took your hand and slid the ring onto your finger, taking a moment to lift your hand and kiss it,

You could hear a few folks in attendance cooing at the action, you could already hear the on-coming whispers of how 'in love' the two of you seemed.

Two separate lives now in unity

"You may now kiss the bride."

It was quick, a small peck before turning around to face your loved ones and others that were invited.

Stuck here together but

Unease filled you as the reception came to an end, after the concerning amount of dancing and drinking, it was time for them to bid the two of you farewell for your honeymoon, you hugged your parents goodbye, he did the same with his mother and the two of you stepped into the car and there you went.

Will this always be just an arrangement

You were uneasy as you got ready for bed, silently praying that you wouldn't have to do anything, but preparing yourself for the possibly that you would just have to grin and bare it, lay back and disassociate.

Thankfully nothing happened, Alastor bid you a goodnight and promptly passed out.

And neither of you brought it up, consummating your marriage was never a topic between you, and for that the two of you were secretly relieved.

You were glad you married Alastor out of all people. [Said no one ever]

Can we become more

As time went on you and Alastor became closer, and feelings began to consume you, sneaking in slowly, it started with you noting how Alastor preferred more bitter or savory foods as opposed to sweets, or how he preferred black coffee to tea.

It was the 1920's, you didn't have a term for what you were back then, and so you thought you were just not meant to be in love, that maybe something was wrong with you? Why weren't you wired like your peers were? You thought that maybe you were too young for feelings like that but you realized that wasn't the case as you grew

You remember talking with your friends, and while they were more prone to crushes or saying what they would do to someone based off their appearance, you always felt a little odd, you were reassured by them saying maybe you just had higher standards, or just hadn't met the right person yet,

But that didn't really explain the fact that you didn't look at a person and think that you wanted to bed them

Than half of a union we’re chosen for?

Alastor had a similar experience, although he had been different in other ways, after all he did killed people so that probably had an effect on it (it probably did but not in this case)

His dear mama just told him he hadn't met the right person yet, and he didn't have a reason not to believe his mother.

On his side he was going to avoid it as long as he could, and he did until he was matched up with you, and wedded.

It not only gave him a cover, you were a perfect alibi, it gave his mama peace of mind.

You were a good companion as well, you weren't overly touchy, you were smart and had your wits about, you could keep up with him,

You became a good friend who he just so happened to wed.

Where I am your best half

The romantic feelings you felt you clung onto desperately, afraid that if you let them go you'd never be able to feel them again, after all where would you find someone like Alastor? [In a Prison probably]

Not to mention the two of you were already married so that was already a done deal, this is the best situation to be in, right? Falling in love with a person you were already married to?

And I am yours

Your affections became more obvious by the day, lingering touches, acts of service becoming more frequent, spending more time together.

For Alastor it was becoming harder to hide the Blood stains that would get on his shirts from you.

Stuck here forever and hopefully not ending in estrangement

Alastor's mother absolutely adored you, you were a decent person, loving and caring to her son, not to mention you were such a sweetheart to her, helping her in the kitchen, helping her move around as it got harder to do in her old age.

It’s the step of faith, We have to take sometimes

His Ma sat him down one day while you were out running errands, telling him to cherish you more,

Not wanting to disappoint his ma, he slowly but surely began to return your affections a bit more, not by much but a little bit more.

If I’m, with you, I can take it

The two of you would go dancing at the speakeasy Mimzy worked at, cook together, he'd murder people behind your back, the two of you would spend time together doing projects like puzzles.

But if we are one, What happens to you and I

Alastor's mother started getting sick.

It started with a cough, which she dismissed to you and Alastor as just a cold, that didn't stop the two of you from making her meals and making her rest but it got worse, the cough turned into hacking late at night and struggling to breathe.

If I’m, with you, I will make it

The doctors couldn't do much, only suggesting medicines that would give her relief.

Will this always be just an arrangement? We’ll find out in time if we don’t break it

You were there with her, at one side while Alastor was at her other, Alastor held her hand as she breathed her last breath.

Can mine become yours, combining our dreams

Alastor was a complete and utter mess, after all that was his mother, the person closest to him besides you, gone.

He would never see her again, he would move to call her and tell her good news,

She wasn't there,

He went to call her at noon like he did every day?

She wasn't there, he had to train himself to not automatically go to the phone, if he found himself dialing her telephone he'd hear the phone operator ask who he's trying to call, and he'd have a moment to remember that the person he was trying to call was no longer with them.

Without keeping score

You were a shoulder to cry on, helping him keep sane, the two of you grieved for his mother together, you helped plan a great funeral, sparing no expense she was practically a second mother to you after all.

Always together, but never bored, No choice in the matter but

The world didn't end when his mother died, he was lucky enough to get a few weeks off but Radio waits for no one, and he was needed back.

This will never work without each other

He went to work, you'd listen in on the radio while doing whatever you did, working, vibing, I don't know what you did for a living.

Can we become we, start a new line on this family tree

Things healed, they would never be the same, obviously you can't bring back the dead, but things were okay, the two of you had each other especially after the stock market crash and everything that followed,

Two hearts connected by one beat

You had a special place in Alastor's twisted murdery heart, it was likely that Alastor wouldn't return your affections, but that was alright, you were content staying near him.

Your hand in mine and

The two of you were dancing, he held your hand as he twirled you around, looking into his eyes with your own lovesick ones you smiled

"I could never choose to love another"

It slipped out, it took the two of you a moment to process it, Alastor let out a sigh, a twinge of guilt? Or something else flashed in his eyes

"Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too."

One day would never come through, for your life was cut short before Alastor's, a bad flu had taken you out, folks often forget how deadly the flu can be.

Alastor was by your side as you breathed your last.

The world didn't stop spinning because you died, but he didn't handle it well, first his Ma and now you, two of the most important people in his life gone just like that, both taken out by some type of sickness, was this punishment for murdering people? The two innocent people he cherished perishing?

Alastor would more then likely never see you or his mother again because when he fell below you were safe and sound above.

While Alastor was clawing for power below you were living your best afterlife above, doing whatever hobbies your heart desired, moving forward with new friends, family that included Alastor's mother, and maybe a paramour? Or maybe not, you were okay with or without one.

Unfortunately for Alastor you were embedded in his memory, every once in awhile you would pop in late at night when he was trying to sleep or do something productive, plaguing his mind with what ifs.

On the other side you were blessed with ignorance, after all he couldn't haunt your memories, he couldn't pop into your mind with what ifs, and you couldn't miss Alastor if you didn't remember him.

Good evening folks! I need to quit killing the reader off, sorry this was delayed!

I was going to go a completely different direction with this but that would've had a happy ending