#anyway good luck on everything anon

[abbaswift]

if this is too personal you dont have to answer this but ive seen you talk about autism on your blog before. I really am convinced that i have autism, like now ive looked into it i feel like its the missing jigsaw piece that explains so much. I really identify with stories from females in their early 20s as well about having undiagnosed autism throughout their school years. im in the uk but im scared that i wont be believed, i have no idea how to go about it and i dont even know how to bring it up to my parents. Do you have any advice?

hi anon, i’m feeling weirdly honoured that you’ve come to me to talk about this, i probably don’t have much advice but i can definitely relate to a lot of things you’ve mentioned

okay firstly i made a post about this recently which might have been the post that prompted this ask but i’ll link it just in case

the day autism was mentioned to me (i remember it vividly, i was eleven) everything just clicked (not to sound too cliche). i knew nothing about it but by the end of the day i’d done so much googling and SO much seemed to fit. it’s wild how you can spend years not knowing why you are the way you are and then you can find out and everything makes more sense. i actually feel a lot more confident and less “weird” now that i don’t have to make up justifications for my own behaviours to myself

i was lucky (in a fashion?) that i was diagnosed at fourteen but i know that there are so many people from our generation and older who slipped through the cracks when it came to childhood diagnosis simply because they were assigned female at birth. for decades autism was seen more as a “boy thing” and it’s only, i’d say, in the last decade or two that autistic girls are being more acknowledged. even now the boy:girl ratio for autism diagnosis is something like 4:1 and there are scientific disputes about whether it’s because autism in males is really more common, if “girl autism” is different or if girls are simply conditioned to hide their traits or show them in a different way. because of this, it’s very possible that there are many undiagnosed young women in your exact situation. it might be helpful to look for online communities (i was going to say forums but are they really a thing now?) of people you can relate to, who are going through the same thing

to be honest, i never had to convince anyone i was autistic because it wasn’t me who thought i was autistic in the first place, it was my deputy head teacher in middle school who first mentioned it in a school meeting to my mum, nan and other teachers. i didn’t even tell my friends until i was officially diagnosed. this means i don’t have much experience in what you need advice with. of course, i have no idea what your relationship with your parents is like or if they’re open-minded or knowledgeable about neurodiversity, so you’ll ultimately need to be the judge of how to approach it. maybe it’ll work best to sit them down and make sure they’re paying attention, but that’s a lot of pressure. honestly when i wanna start a tricky conversation, i do it when the people aren’t looking at me, maybe when we’re in the car or watching tv. just try to casually bring the topic up, maybe reference a recent news story about autism, i don’t know. just ease into the conversation(s) and once you feel ready, you might just blurt out what you want to say. if you feel like people will need persuading, write out a list of your autistic traits for reference. like i said in my linked post, some people don’t know about neurodiversity, but they will often still notice if you don’t act how neurotypical people do. if you’re reading out these autistic traits, traits that you also have, they may be more inclined to connect autism with you, and they’ll know you’ve done research.

i know you’ve mentioned that you worry you won’t be believed, but it might be worth confiding in some trusted friends or other relatives before you tell your parents, even if you just frame it in a hypothetical way. that way you can get a consensus on whether you “seem autistic” or not (and maybe get some confidence) before you have the (probably?) more important talk with your parents. although i suppose, if the people you’ve asked disagree with you, it might discourage you in further exploring the possibility of you being autistic. that being said, you know your brain and how much you potentially mask more than anyone else, so if you ask for the opinions of others, don’t be disheartened if it’s not the consensus you expected.

i was gonna try to type something about actually getting diagnosed but you might not be ready for that unless you’re prepared to get diagnosed without anyone in your life knowing. i don’t have much to offer in terms of experience (because i simply don’t remember much of getting diagnosed) or advice but i’d be willing to support you through it. for now, all i can say about getting an autistic diagnosis on the nhs is… good luck charlie

okay sorry for the massive ramble, it’s the ortizzum. i hoped this gave you or someone else reading this even a smidge of help, assuming you didn’t fall asleep midway through. as i said, i’m not great with advice but i can definitely relate as a young woman who wasn’t properly supported because of a lack of diagnosis. feel free to send me another ask or dm me about anything autism related… or just anything full stop. okay i’m wishing you luck, keep me updated! MWAH! x

[appeypie]

Hello! Sorry for out of the blue but, i saw you were in Style on the Rise. Is that project still happening?

No prob! I'm not 100% sure myself, tbh. I know there were some problems with mods having to delay things due to understaffing and outside issues.. But it hasn't been outright cancelled.

Last update was 3 months ago, which was optimistic that it would still get released. I hope it does, all of the art I've seen for it is stunning

[not-neverland06]

hi!! Given my obsession for Hugh jackman I am CRAVING for some Leopold X reader (from Kate & Leopold)! Maybe with some little angst but happy ending??

I love your blog!! Have a wonderful day 😽💐💓

Leopold Mountbatten x fem!reader a/n: I don’t know how controversial this is going to be and I don’t care. I could never finish the movie because I hated Meg Ryan in it so much. It’s so odd, I’ve loved her in everything else she’s been in but she made it such a hard watch. Maybe it’s because she reminds me of my grandma in the worst way lol, but I finished it for you anon sorry this was a little rushed Anyways, hope you enjoy lovelies Summary: Your neighbor went back in time and dragged someone back with him. He's irritatingly polite and far too interested in your way of life. What are you meant to do when you fall for a man who was never even supposed to meet you?

“Hello, madam, please I need your help!”

You’re used to crazies, it is New York after all. But they’re not usually shouting at you through your window. Especially not when you’re on the sixth floor. You look away from your coffee and glance towards the fire escape. 

There’s an oddly dressed man with red eyes waving at you through the dirty glass. You offer him a tentative wave back and he nods aggressively. “Yes, hello, I need your assistance.”

“Um,” you shake your head, “Sorry, I don’t have any drugs dude.”

“No,” he places his hands pathetically on the glass and shakes his head. “Please, I have been kidnapped.” Finally, you take a step closer to him. You can tell now that his eyes aren’t reddened from any medicinal fun, he probably got pepper sprayed. 

Your friend did it to you once when you tried to surprise her on her birthday and you’ll never forget just how awful you looked afterwards. You can see him a bit more clearly now. Whatever odd costume he’s got on, it looks good. Genuine and clean. 

Not like most of the street performers you see in Times Square. Besides, he doesn’t have that maddened look in his eye that makes you worry he’s going to come inside and kill you. Tentatively, you open the window. 

He’s leaping through in a second and you jump back with a yelp. He turns towards you and his eyes widen before he quickly turns away. “My good lady, where are your pants?”

“Uh,” you glance down at the oversized shirt you’re wearing and the tiny shorts underneath. Admittedly, it’s a little skimpy, but you’re not walking around naked. You’ve heard of committing to the bit, but this is a bit much. “On,” you tell him, walking around him and trying to stand close to the phone. 

“Ma’am-” He’s cut off as someone slams their fist on your front door. You keep a weary eye on the man while you unlock your door. 

“Hey,” Stuart smiles at you. His eyes drift slightly past your shoulder and he goes barging into your apartment. “Leopold! What did I say?”

You huff and glare at Stuart’s frantic back. “This is yours?” Stuart nods and rushes Leopold out the door. You don’t miss the pleading, while slightly scandalized, look he sends you. 

You slam the door closed behind them, shaking your head and going back to your morning paper. You doubt you’ll be seeing him around again. 

You know, it’s just your luck that your upstairs neighbor is a scientist, one who happens to dabble in the art of time travel. And it’s just your luck that he had to fall down a damn elevator shaft. 

Now, according to him, you have to care for someone from a different century so he can make it back to his time portal in, well, in time. This is fucking ridiculous. “I’m going to kill you, Stuart.”

“Look, they’re going to take my phone but he really cannot-”

It goes silent on the other end. You shout his name a few times but hear nothing in response. You assume the hospital staff has finally gotten sick of his shenanigans and has taken his phone. You slam your handset down with a huff and look towards the living room. Leopold hasn’t sat down since you walked in and it’s unsettling. 

“So,” you start and his attention snaps towards you. “1876, huh?”

He nods and you roll your eyes with a scoff. “Oh, this is insane. This is insane,” you mutter to yourself, walking towards Stuart’s door. Leopold gives you a concerned look before quickly following after you. There’s a part of you, and you hate that part, that actually believes some of this. 

Stuart is a brilliant, though flawed, scientist. You don’t doubt that he might have actually unlocked the secret to traveling back to the past, but it’s such an insane idea to try and wrap your head around. 

“Come on, we’re leaving.” You know that Stuart doesn’t want him out of the house. Tough. You’re not going to just stay inside and wait until he can supposedly go back to the past. You don’t give Leopold any time to process your answer, already out the door and heading towards the stairs. 

“You know,” he starts as he catches up to you. “You are quite rude.” Your first instinct is to snap back at him. But you take a breath and stop yourself. 

You’re desensitized, ridiculously used to just how awful New Yorkers can be to each other. And whether this man is truly from the past or not is up for debate. But he is polite and earnest, and you have no reason to be a bitch to him. 

“I’m,” the words are hard to come by but you force them out anyway, “I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely surprised by the apology and it only makes you feel worse. “This is just an insane idea to try and grasp.”

He chuckles softly, smiling as he glances down at his feet. “Yes, how do you think I feel?”

You’re sure it’s not his intention, but you only feel like more of an ass. If this is hard for you, whatever he's going through is a hundred times worse. You weren’t forcefully ripped out of your own time and shoved into another you don’t understand. He’s still trying to comprehend the television.

Though, you’re sure being a scientist has helped him in marginally understanding how all of this is possible. “How do you like the future?” It sounds awkward and stiff, but you haven’t had to talk to anyone in a really long time. 

Your interactions are pretty limited at the book shop considering no one ever comes in. They all order online nowadays and all you really have to worry about is organizing shelves. You’re embarrassingly rusty when it comes to conversing. 

And his propensity towards eloquence only makes you feel worse. “I must admit, some of your inventions have been quite fascinating. I’m especially fond of your showers.”

Your face scrunches slightly at the mention of hygiene and you nod, “I bet.” Before either of you can attempt to salvage this horrible attempt at conversation your phone starts ringing. “Hold on one second,” you tell him. You walk a few feet away from him but you can still feel his eyes boring into your back as you move away. 

“Hello?”

There’s a frantic shout of your name down the line and then the distinct jingling of keys. “I need you to cover the shop. Marcy just went into labor and I’ve got to go!” Paul doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he hangs up. 

Your jaw gapes and you stare down at your phone with shock. You know Paul and his wife had been expecting, but had it really already been nine months? Has your life become so monotonous and dull that nine months doesn’t even register for you?

It’s a depressing thought. One you’d rather not linger on. “What was that?”

You scream, though the people passing by don’t pay you any mind, and jump away from Leopold. “Jesus, where the hell did you come from?”

Leopold flinches away from you and his face is just as aghast as yours. “Good heavens, what is the matter with you? Do you respond to anything as a sensible woman might?”

“I resent that.” You tell him bitterly. Though, he does make a good point. You’ve been on edge constantly. You always seem to be more anxious than you are happy. It’s not a good state to perpetually exist in. “I need to go into work.”

You don’t want to outright say that he needs to go back to the apartment. It feels a little mean, but you’re hoping he’ll catch onto your tone of voice. 

His entire demeanor perks up and he smiles at you. “Wonderful, I am dreadfully curious as to what you do.”

You open your mouth to correct him, let him know he’s not coming. But he’s staring at you with such hopeful eyes that you cannot find it in yourself to turn him down. He seems so excited, you’re sure he won’t be when he gets to your cluttered little bookshop. You let out a weary sigh, “Fine. Okay.”

You walk towards the curb, hoping to hail a cab. But Leopold’s hand gently wraps around your elbow and tugs you in the opposite direction. Your eyes widen in response to his boldness. You thought touching a woman he wasn’t courting would cause someone like him to combust. Seems he didn’t mind breaking the rules sometimes. 

You make a mental note of that for later. You don’t know what you’re going to do with the information, but you find it intriguing. Maybe the modern world was rubbing off on him more than he’d like to admit. 

“We should take this,” he stops you in front of a horse-drawn carriage and you immediately begin to shake your head. 

“No, Leopold, these are just tourist traps-”

He doesn’t let you finish, opening the carriage’s door and gently nudging you inside. “Nonsense! This is far more enjoyable than those yellow monstrosities.”

“Taxi,” you correct. You turn towards the carriage driver and give him directions to your bookshop. “Ink and Tea on Fifth.” He nods and the carriage rolls forward with a lurch. You grip the cushioned seats and pray you don’t get motion sickness. 

“Ink and Tea?” Leopold inquires. “Are you a journalist?”

You smile and shake your head. “No, nothing so fancy. I just help take care of an old bookshop. They were supposed to extend the shop when it first opened. They were going to build a space for people to get pastries or drink tea, but it never happened and the owner was too lazy to change the name.”

It feels a little humiliating to be talking about your minimum-wage job to a renowned scientist. He’s invented or is going to, elevators. He doesn’t care about your stupid shop. But he doesn’t look particularly judgy of you. If anything he seems to be endeared to you the more you talk. 

Normally, you’re oblivious to these sorts of things. But it’s nearly impossible for him to hide. He’s not shy with his attraction, never taking his eyes off of you and hanging onto your every word. You’re not used to such outward attention. 

You look out of the carriage, pretending to take in views you’ve already seen a thousand times. “This city is incredible,” he wonders aloud. His awe is palpable. 

Your nose wrinkles and you shrug. “It’s dirty and the people are intolerable.”

“Must you always be so pessimistic?” You snap your mouth shut and feel embarrassment creeping around you. You’ve never had someone point out when you’re being negative, but he has a point. 

You used to view the city through the same rose-colored glasses. Something’s broken inside you in recent years that has just taken the joy out of life. Everything is grey to you now, until Leopold, nothing spectacular has ever really happened to you. 

The carriage comes to a stop outside the shop before you can respond to him. You want to deny what he says, but you can’t. Your attitude is almost always unnecessary. You think sometimes you might just be trying to see if everyone feels as miserable as you do or if there’s just something wrong with you. 

“Come on,” you tell him, getting out and paying the driver. He wanders towards the shop, eyeing the displays in the window curiously. 

“These are wonderful,” he tells you, pointing to the way you’d made the books look like they’re floating above the shelves. It was just some silly little thing you’d tried to get more people in the shop. It’d worked for about a month. 

“I did that,” you unlock the door to the shop and open it for him. But he doesn’t walk in immediately, instead, he lingers in the doorway. He offers you a soft smile and you can’t help but return it. 

“You’re more creative than you give yourself credit for.”

Your eyes widen as you watch him walk inside. He keeps making these oddly astute observations about you and it’s throwing you off your game. You barely know this man and you’ve always been good at keeping yourself aloof and vague. Yet, he seems to read you like you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

“Feel free to…” he’s already made himself comfortable somewhere in the back and you trail off. “Look around,” you finish lamely. His form is lost somewhere in stacks of books and cluttered shelves. 

You know most of the classics and history books are kept towards the back. You wonder if he’s reminiscing or getting a headstart before he gets back to his time. You smile at the thought and walk behind the counter, sitting on the stool and preparing to finish off the rest of the day.

Leopold is still somewhere lost to you an hour later. Occasionally you’ll hear a page flip or the clatter of a book being reshelved, but there are no other signs of life. Not until the bell above the door rings. 

“Clark,” you smile, sitting up straighter as your friend walks through the door. “What’re you doing here?”

He gives you a crooked grin and shrugs. Just over his shoulder, you can see Leopold’s head pop over a shelf, he looks between you both, eyes narrowing with disdain. “Paul told me you’d be here, figured you might want some company.”

“Actually-” you start, but another voice cuts you off. 

“Leopold Mountbatten,” he comes around the corner, hand outstretched as he comes in between you and Clark. “And who might you be?”

Your brows furrow in confusion at the interaction. Leopold seems oddly hostile and Clark looks strangely caught off guard. “Um, Clark. Nice to meet you, man.” He shakes Leopold’s hand but his grip is weak and it only lasts for one awkward half-second. 

It’s uncomfortable to watch them try and interact and it only gets worse when they turn towards you. Clearly, they want you to tell them who the hell the other guy is. But you feel like that might just make the situation worse. 

Besides, you were pretty content with it just being you and Leopold, you don’t need Clark coming in here and riling things up. “You know, Clark, I’m set here. You can just go home.” Your tone leaves no room for argument but you know he wants to. 

“Alright, I’ll just call you later, I guess.” He throws one last skeptical look at Leopold before finally slinking back out of the shop. 

“Neither of you should be alone without a chaperone present.” Leopold bluntly scolds you without even waiting a second before Clark is gone. It catches you off guard and you scoff. 

You motion between the two of you, “We don’t have a chaperone.” 

Leopold shrugs, “Yes, well, I’m not courting you.” It shouldn’t, because he’s right, but that stings. He is attractive, surprisingly so. You have this odd belief that anyone from his century had to be at least a little ugly. But he’s near perfect. 

Hearing him tell you so bluntly that you’re not courting hurts a little. Though, you can’t blame him. You must be dramatically different than the women he’s used to. From your manners to how you dress, you’re practically an alien. 

You stand up from behind the counter and walk towards the cart of books that need to be shelved. “Clark is a friend. Nothing more.” You’ve never once been romantically interested in your friend. He’s attractive, but he’s not really your type.

Apparently, British men from the nineteenth century are. Which does not bode well for your romantic prospects once Leopold is back home. “It is plain for anyone to see how he wants you. Don’t let yourself be blinded by naivete.”

“Naivete?” you scoff and turn around to glare at him. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me, alright? I’m not some maiden in a frilly dress who needs a chaperone.” You can see that your words affect him. He looks a little taken aback by your anger and so are you. 

It’s misplaced. You’re not mad at him, just mad that you even like him. “Just go read or something, Leopold.” You dismiss him more rudely than necessary and hide yourself behind a few shelves. The rest of your workday is spent in a tense silence that makes your stomach churn. 

You’re nearly ready for bed when something slips under your door with a slight whoosh. You turn towards it, frowning when you see a little envelope with a wax seal on the ground. You pick it up and let your finger slip under the paper, opening it to find a letter with your name on it inside. 

The handwriting is impeccable, with a gracefulness to it that you’ve never seen before. You don’t have to read for very long to know who it's from. Leopold writes poetry about the color of your eyes and the way your lips curl when you smile. And then he ends it with a vague, nearly ominous, invitation to dinner. 

You can’t help but smile to yourself, changing out of your pajamas and slipping into something a little nicer. A few minutes later you’re climbing out your window and taking the stairs up the fire escape to the roof. 

You don’t believe your ears at first, thinking the music must be coming from another apartment. But when you make it up to the roof there’s a violin player there waiting for you. He smiles happily at you as you approach. 

You spin in a slow circle, taking in the sheer amount of flowers littered around the roof. You don’t know how he managed to afford all of this. He transformed the barren and empty rooftop into your own little paradise. Candles lit and a live musician playing for you. 

You’ve never had anyone do something like this for you, ever. It’s a little hard to accept that someone would be willing to put this much effort in for you. “I wasn’t entirely sure you would come.”

You turn around and Leopold is waiting behind you, that familiar smile playing on his lips. You aren’t aware of the grin forming on your face in response. You don’t have much control over that when you’re with him. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He looks like he wants to respond but at the last moment thinks better of it. He instead pulls your chair out for you, helping you into your seat. “This is nice,” that feels too underwhelming a word for such an incredible gesture. 

You sigh and frown as you try and find the right words. You don’t notice him sitting down across from you. You only look up when you feel him placing his hand on your own. “It’s alright,” he assures you. 

It’s still so odd how he can know you so well after such little time. “This is incredible,” you tell him, undeterred by his attempts to soothe you. “No one’s ever done something like this for me.”

He looks like he takes personal offense to that and it makes you laugh. “You deserve far more than this. Sadly, it seems Stuart’s pockets do have limits and I’m afraid I would have put him into debt if I’d gone any further.”

You have the perfect mental image of Stuart coming back from the hospital only to find his science project has robbed him. It makes you laugh and you squeeze his hand once before drawing it back into your lap. He lets his touch linger on you for a long moment, seemingly reluctant to pull away. 

“No,” you tell him, “this is perfect.” 

You fall into a comfortable silence for a little while. Conversation mostly drifting toward what his life was like as a duke. You don’t have much to say about your own life. It’s been incredibly normal and you’re a little sad to find that you don’t have one good thing to share with him. 

Nothing comes to the front of your mind. 

Inevitably, you drift into the topic you’d both been so adamantly avoiding. “Has Stuart said when you’d need to return?”

Leopold’s grip on the fork tightens and for a moment he refuses to meet your eye. “Monday, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” your eyes widen and you feel something burning at the back of your throat. Monday, the same Monday that’s two days away. 

“Dance with me,” the suddenness of the demand catchers you so off guard that you forget the tears. He stands, holding out his hand to you. You almost say no, you can’t remember the last time you danced and you doubt it’s going to be pretty. 

But he whispers your name and something about his tone tells you to take the chance while you have it. You slip your hand into his, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn’t sweep you off your feet and dance the night away. 

Instead, he holds you close and you sway together. Like moving even an inch away from each other would hurt. “You could come with me,” he tells you. And you know immediately what he’s talking about. 

You also know it could never happen. Going to the nineteenth century is insane. Even considering it should be enough to have you sent to a psych ward somewhere. Especially not for a man you’ve known for less than a month. 

You try and tell him that you can’t, but he stops you. “I know, a preposterous idea. I just wanted to think about it.” You look up at him and find that you can’t take that away from him. There’s nothing wrong with imagining what it could be like with him. Even when you know it can never happen. 

You dance like that for a little while longer, swaying against each other while the violin plays in the background. He whispers your name and when you gaze up at him this time, there’s a certain look in his eye that you know is reflected in your own. 

He dips down, lips caressing yours gently before he’s pushing more firmly against your own. The world stops. Cliche, you’re aware. For the first time in years, though, you’re alive. You feel something other than the dull monotony of life. You feel excited and terrified all at once. Because you know you can never have this feeling again. 

You will never meet another man like Leopold who ignites this spark of life and passion within you. Never has a man been able to make you doubt every decision you’ve ever made with just a kiss, but here he is. 

Your arms lift like you might try and draw him in closer. His hands come up, taking yours in his gentle hold and squeezing. He pulls away from you and reality comes crashing back down. You’re not in love, you can’t be. You’ve only just met him a few days ago. 

Yet, here you are, wondering if you might actually want to leave everything behind to be with him like the great romances authors write about. He smiles at you and there’s a bittersweetness to it, a final farewell that you know will break whatever is left of your heart. 

He lifts your knuckles to his lips, pressing his lips against them like he never wants to part. “Goodnight,” he whispers your name and backs away from you. You watch him go, watch him leave, unable to muster up any words for him. 

You can’t think of anything that would ease this gnawing ache inside of you. Nothing to soothe the pain for either of you. You let him go because you know if you asked him to stay he would. And how selfish of you would it be to let history unravel simply because you fell in love? 

Monday. It is Monday. You’ve been coming to terms with that all weekend. You don't want to think about the fact that Leopold will be gone tonight. Your time together was so brief but you feel like you’re never going to get over losing him. 

Before the night was over on Sunday, a note was slipped under your door. This handwriting was messy, it made you think someone other than Leopold had written it down, but you don’t know who it could have been. 

It was a date and time, jump off the Brooklyn Bridge at this time on Monday night. Only an idiot would jump off a bridge because of an ominous note slipped under her door. But you haven’t been able to take your eyes off of it, not since you first picked it up. 

Leopold had invited you to go with him. And while you might not have said no, the insinuation was clear. Your eyes dart to your clock. If you left now, you could still make it in time. What an absolutely ridiculous thought. 

So, why are you running out the door without locking it? Why do you not care who slips into your home now? There’s this sense of finality within you that lets you know you’re never going to see that place again and that’s okay. 

You never truly felt comfortable in your life. You always thought a part of yourself was missing. Or that you were always running late for something. You think you understand what you were feeling now. 

The thing you’ve been searching for your whole life wasn’t halfway across the world, a hundred thousand miles from you. He was on the wrong side of time, or you were, at least. 

You manage to snag a taxi to get to the bridge but there’s a traffic jam. You’re forced to jump out of the car and run through the different lanes of blocked traffic. People shout at you. Your cab driver screaming after you about your fare. You don’t care, the only thing you can think about is the note crumpled in your hands and the clock counting down how long you have to jump. 

You’ll either be on the news tomorrow as an unfortunate suicide. An idiot who accidentally threw herself off the wrong side of the bridge. Or, you’ll see Leopold again. 

You reach the ledge and you can’t hesitate. If you do, you won’t jump in time. You close your eyes, holding your breath like you’re jumping into your neighbor’s pool. Air rushes around you, whipping at your hair and skin violently. 

It’s not until you hear someone shouting down at you that you realize you’re not dead. You’re lying in the middle of a dirt road, a group of people staring down at you with concern in their eyes. 

You only have to take in the clothes they’re wearing to know you’ve made it. Before they can react you’re leaping to your feet and running off. You know you’re near the Brooklyn Bridge, or where it’s supposed to be at least. You know enough about the area to remember where Leopold’s house is supposed to be. 

You’re covered in sweat and red mud. The people you pass by in the streets hide behind their hands and whisper about you. You’re not making a good impression on your future neighbors, that’s for sure. But, honestly, all you care about is making it back to him. 

You see people congregating outside his uncle’s home. You know there’s a party inside, that he’s supposed to be announcing who his wife will be. You barrel through the people outside, shoving through the crowd and running up the steps of the house. 

You can hear Leopold’s voice as you run, “The woman I’m going to take as my wife is-”

There’s a loud gasp as you come panting into the room. You can’t catch your breath long enough to speak but it doesn’t matter. The crowd is parting around you and Leopold is smiling down at you. He says your name and there’s nothing else that matters about the world around you. Not when you finally found each other. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie Kate & Leopold, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[deathbxnny]

Hi! I really love your fic. Could you write oneshot reader x Viktor that reader has imposter syndrome and they blame themselves for little mistakes. How would Viktor comfort them?

The failed overachiever. | Viktor x Gn!Reader

I'm feeling a little better again healthwise, so I hope this is good, Anon! Thank you for your request and enjoy!<3

Content: Imposter syndrome, pre season 2 viktor, some angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Reader is a genius, established romantic relationship, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

"Ah no, no, no! This just won't do!" You hiss out as you toss another paper filled with prototype scribbles in the trash. Working on your latest projects was already a painful drag, but it certainly didn't help that you just couldn't make up your mind. The equations you have come up with also seemed wrong. And the deadline to the showcasing was coming closer and closer!

Sleep was rare to find these days, mainly as you were stuck trying to chase a perfection you just simply never have found yet in your lifetime. An impossible feat you were unwilling to give up on no matter what. The many endless achievements that littered the walls of your laboratory were a clear statement to your deep desperation. You were practically renowned for your genius innovation and philosophies, but they never reached your mind. To you, they felt undeserving as in every one you could only see the flaws and mistakes you've made.

You couldn't escape the cycle of self hate you've trapped yourself in for years now... but that didn't mean that your dear boyfriend Viktor wasn't going to try and help you anyway.

Viktor narrowly dodged an incoming crumbled paper when he entered your laboratory late into the night. You hadn't left it in days now, and whilst it may have very well been hypocritical of him, he had come to bring you to bed. You used to do this often to him as well, way before the obsession for a flawless project had taken over you, but ever since you've been asked to present your latest projects at a inventors gala, things changed for the worst. He was already familiar with your rather self-destructive behaviors and was deeply concerned by them, another form of hypocrisy on his part, he supposed.

Tilting his head at your hunched over form, he carefully approached you, the sound of his cane making you hum weakly in acknowledgment. "Rough night?" He joked, although you found less amusement in it as you shook your head in disappointment. "I am simply enraged by everything! Every draft is worse than the last, and the deadline is in two weeks, and I have yet to finish a thing, and, and-" You let out a frustrated string of curses, before near swiping everything off your work desk. "I'm just... such a failure... nothing I do is good enough. Every mistake is a testament to how little I deserve my position as a scientist and professor."

Viktor frowned gently at your clear defeat, the tears in your eyes making his heart ache. He knew that feeling all too well. And he never wanted you to feel it, too. You were a genius beyond every measure. People followed your inventions like they were religion, always so eager for the latest news. Yet you never saw that part of your success. In fact, not an ounce of you believed you were successful by your own volition either. Every achievement and reward was just dumb luck to you.

"I don't think that's true." He started as he leaned down with great difficulty to grab some papers you had thrown away in rage. "And no one else does either. You're this generations genius. Everyone knows this... but you. And that's sad, my love." His words were soft and warm, the sweetness making you turn to look at him, whilst he sat down in a chair and flipped through your work intently like he always did. Patting his good leg, he invited you to sit in his lap, something that always made you nervous despite him making it clear that it didn't hurt him. Yet you indulged him this time without protest, desperate for some comfort.

He chuckled when you quickly hid your face in his neck, not wanting to embarrass yourself with the tears that were burning in your eyes. Pulling you close with his unoccupied hand, he pressed a kiss to your head and looked over your notes with a prideful glint in his eyes. "Your work moves and inspires thousands. Everyone knows of it and praises it like its gospel. You should be more kind to yourself... which may be hypocritical of me to say, but it's true nonetheless. Your work is perfection." "I don't think it is. The mistakes are so foolish that they are unforgivable." "Hardly." Leaning away, he made enough room to make you see the papers. "This is a flawless equation, and the design is impressive... may I watch you work on it? It would be an honor, my love." The man hummed, making you blink in surprise before you collected your ego and jumped up with a determined, yet flustered look on your face. "Well! If you really think that, then I suppose you can! But don't expect me to slow down for you!" You huffed out, making his smile widen. There you were. The prideful scholar he fell in love with so many years ago.

You began picking and setting things back up, your head turned away from him as you spoke. "... Thank you, by the way. I really needed to hear that." Viktor's eyes glowed with a warm, loving glow as he watched you, his heart full at watching you do what you loved the most.

"No need to thank me. I'll always be there for you."

[pickleskisser]

hii!! I really liked your pickles headcanons and the part about meeting his family was my favorite! if you have the time could I request hcs for meeting the family for the rest of the boys? if not the rest of them then just skwisgaar would be fine!

remember to drink water, eat a snack, and take plenty of breaks!

(ps can i be spade anon?)

HIIII !! Omg thank you sm I had a lot of fun with it lolz. And yeah I can so do that for you :p fair warning it's very improvised since info on these dude's parents are scarce but I hope it's enjoyable anyways ☆

Meeting the Parents HCs

Nathan Explosion

The one you have to worry least about, his parents are sweethearts.

Though his mom will have an eye on you both the whole time.

I feel like Nathan has a record of getting entangled with people who were not so good for him, so it isn't personal or anything she's just on the fence at first.

Once she realizes you're not like that, though, and genuinely love Nathan and, in turn, treat him how he deserves, she's alllllllll over you.

She's going to want your number, your Skype, your Facebook, everything.

She'll pull out the baby pictures too. It greatly embarrasses your brutal boyfriend.

His dad would be the same, on the fence a little, but he overall trusts Nathan a little more.

He might try to plan a fishing trip, though, and Nathan is going to be all over that, so good luck getting out of that if you viscerally dislike fishing.

Overall, don't sweat it! As long as you treat their boy right, they love you, and you might as well be family now.

Toki Wartooth

Oh boy. So I'm not sure you could ever really meet his parents?

He doesn't like talking about them. You probably didn't even learn anything about them until late in your relationship.

If you were to hypothetically meet them, well, you're only meeting his mom.

Aslaug would be dead at this point so there wouldn't be much of an option.

Anja is a cold woman with high unachievable standards. So don't take the fact she won't even speak to you too personally.

If you're religious in the Christian sense, you might have a small chance of approval… but then again, you're dating Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, and you had to learn about him somewhere. Goddamn devil music.

Don't even waste your breath. All that matters is how much you and Toki love each other.

William Murderface

It's not willing on his part at all.

Stella is showing up unannounced, ranting and raving about not telling her he finally got hitched, and he must just want her to die or something.

He's snippy and miserable the whole time. Not miserable in the same sense Pickles was, he's more annoyed than anything.

Stella isn't the most gentle woman. She's abrasive and loud and can be partial to physical violence, but she does care a little bit about her grandson.

She really sucks at showing it, and definitely fucked him up with her parenting style (if his emotional constipation and short fuse didn't make that clear) but she did step up when his parents died instead of letting him go through the system, so.

All this to say, she's giving you a shotgun talk.

William will pry it out of her hands, of course, and curse her out for it, but it's happening !!

After that, though, don't worry, you're family now. Actually, maybe you should worry.

This means that whatever small politeness she whipped up before is long gone, you're a Murderface now, you are going to get treated like one.

Although William couldn't care less about his grandmother's opinion, he cares about yours. So, to see you embracing his family in full stride without getting scared off is more than heartwarming to him.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Again, it's fully unwilling on his end. It would honestly have to be something you want.

I think it's needless to say his relationship with his mom is weird. He truthfully wouldn't mind never seeing her again, especially after the events of fatherklok.

But again, if you really, really, want it then, yeah, he'll take you down to Sweden.

Surfetta doesn't have much of an opinion on you. What you are to her son is no concern to her.

She's most likely tipsy the whole time and disappearing for periods at a time.

The whole thing will feel like a waste of time, and Skwisgaar is stressed.

Don't worry he just needs to play his Thunderhorse for a few hours, and maybe a little bit of laying on top of you with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heartbeat… just a little.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Ok I have a request that’s been brewing in my brain, what if Daryl and reader were out on a run and reader finds a mixtape in the car and plays it, and one of the songs is Creep by Radiohead and she starts singing along and he’s never heard her sing before and he’s like totally enamored by it. But when he starts to listen to the lyrics it maybe hits too close to home and he starts to get insecure and think he’s not good enough for her and he’s kinda standoffish for a bit and when he finally tells her what’s wrong she shows him how much he means to her and how special he is to her AHHHH

Ps ur writing is amazing I love it sm 🫶🫶

Creep

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Anxious!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Allusions to sex.

A/N: I cannot tell you how much I LOVE this request, thank you Anon! I'm sorry its taken me a while I have been ill as hell, but I'm hoping to get a few bits uploaded today when my heating kicks in and my fingers start moving again!

-

The dashboard is dusty. The kind of dust that seeps up your nose and makes you smell damp. The car is cramped and the road is bumpy as all hell, but he’s content, almost peaceful as she smiles over at him. He quirks a corner of his mouth upwards in response, knowing he’ll get lost in her smile if he lets himself, and the last thing he wants to do is crash the car when its so full of wares.

It’s not new, not really, their….relationship. It’s the culmination of the electricity that’s been thrumming underneath the surface for a while. So it’s not new, not really, but it is tentative. Everything with Daryl is tentative except killing walkers and hunting; there’s a sick sense of irony that it took the world ending for him to be confident in something. He’s not confident when it comes to her, even now. Even now she’s sitting there holding his hand as he drives back to Alexandria. He could have initiated the hand holding, probably, maybe, she’d like that, but the fear that he’s going to be rejected for trying is always overwhelming.

This run was simple, thank god, neither of them are bruised and battered though Daryl did smack the side of his head rather painfully against a door trying to block a walker. They’re taking three boxes of canned goods, some jumpers for the colder weather and a large handful or seven of treats back to Alexandria. He feels good. Better than he has in a long time; he can almost forget that his shoulder hurts every morning and his brother is dead and the dead are, you know, eating people.

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, fighting the quirk of his lip that tries to sneak up on him again and failing miserably. She clocks it anyway, picking his hand up to her lips to press a kiss to it before dropping it out of reach in a way that’s so very her. She’s careful with him, never overstepping the boundaries she guesses he has because he hasn’t actually told her, but she offers affection like most people offer hellos. She never pulls away without reassurance.

“Can I see what’s on this?” her voice breaks him out of his thoughts, holding up a crappy mix-tape she’d found atop one of the boxes. She doesn’t even know if it will work, but she’s trying to be appreciative of the small mercies that come with this impossible life and by a stroke of luck they’re driving a car old enough to still have a damn tape slot. She doesn’t expect words to accompany his nod.

And suddenly she’s blaring out the words to a song he vaguely remembers from before, dancing in her seat whilst she lowers her voice for comic effect.

She can sing, he knows she can so she’s doing this for his benefit, to make him laugh. He’s heard her voice in the shower, echoing through their new home, melodic and soft and beautiful. His whole body is warm, bursting at the seams with affection, with the knowledge that she thinks of him even in the tiny moments; that even when she’s doing something she’ll enjoy she’s still trying to entertain him.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

Maybe it’s the words that set his brain off. Maybe its that the dust reminds him of a home that had never been a home. He thinks back to all the times he’s watched her from a distance, the times he was too afraid to talk to her but wanted to keep her safe, following her from behind like a fucking stalker. He flinches as the memories of the kids in the playground flood him, the ones who’d called him weird and creepy, the voice of his father saying nobody would ever love him, the southern twang of his brother saying the same, ‘nobody is ever gonna love ya except me, baby brother’. But she does, doesn’t she? Or at least something close, she’d made that clear.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

Hadn’t she made that clear? Hadn’t she kissed him of her own volition? Had he stayed too close until she had no other choice? Had he made his feelings too obvious? Had he been weird and creepy? Had he forced his affection on her until she’d just given in? Maybe people in his previous life had been right about him.

He pulls through the gates on autopilot, doesn’t even remember who was on guard duty but someone had to have let them in. He unloads the car, mind simultaneously numb and in overdrive, hands the boxes to…someone and slams the door shut hard enough he makes himself flinch.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Her soft voice barely registers through the muddled thoughts, she sounds far away and out of reach.

“Nothin’”

He shakes off the warm fingers against his arm, turns to trudge back to their shared house, ignoring the way her footsteps follow in time with his, trying to ignore that he knows she’s got shorter legs than he does and he knows she’s trying to catch up.

“You’re a terrible liar”

“I ain’t”

“Daryl-“

“I can’t do this” he pauses, doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he scuffs his toe against the asphalt. He hasn’t thought far enough ahead to realise she has to follow him home as she lives there, he just needs to flee “Us” he clarifies as if she hadn’t worked it out already.

“You were fine five minutes ago, I don’t-”

“I ain’t good at this shit. I dun’ want it” he lies through his teeth.  He’s never wanted anything more in his life.

Her footsteps don’t resume as his do, and he takes her not following as acceptance, as proof his brain is right, as confirmation she never wanted him in the first place. Kicking off his boots as he seeks sanctuary inside their home he leaves the front door open for her. He’s never been inconsiderate on purpose.

Body freezing momentarily when he finally hears the front door click shut, he breaths a small sigh of relief that she’s home before guilt gnaws at him. Chewing his fingernails, he half expects her to come to his room, but he hears her upstairs closing the door to hers before the boiler kicks in to tell him she’s taking a shower. His head throbs at him, but the painkillers are in the bathroom upstairs and he avoids taking them unless he really has to.

It’s a testament to how fucking awkward he is that he hides in his basement bedroom until the sun has set, as if he hasn’t wanted a cigarette for the past two hours. Carol won’t let him smoke in the house, a rule implemented months ago, before she’d left for her own smaller house. He’s yet to break it out of respect and if he’s honest, fear. If anyone could sense something wrong from buildings away it would be Carol, and he doesn’t trust his partner housemate not to tell Carol just for a laugh. Daryl both loves and hates how close the two women are, by which he means that it’s lovely until he is the target of their anger or humour and then it is significantly less so.

“Thought you might want some company” her voice startles him out of his thoughts as she sits gracefully next to him on the front step of the porch.

“Don’t need ya pity”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not pitying you” She tries to keep the anger out of her tone. She doesn’t know what’s going on but if she’s confident about one thing its that Daryl wants her and she’s not about to let him sabotage his own happiness by being hard on himself “How’s the head?”

“Sore”

She shakes the small bottle of aspirin at him, pulled from the pocket of her pyjama pants.

“Take a painkiller”

“Better spent on someone else”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mo’ important people ‘ere than me, I ain’t ever been worth nothin’”

“Daryl-“

“Nah, I ain’t, I weren’t worth shit before, didn’t even have a fuckin’ job, ain’t worth shit now”

“Don’t do that, don’t act like you’re not important, just fucking don’t”

There’s such fierce disappointment under the ire in her tone that it stops him for a beat. He raises his gaze from the smooth wooden steps to look at her face, takes her in properly since he’d walked off earlier in the day. He catches the worry in her eyes, the wobble in her bottom lip she’s trying to bite away, chewing nervously.

“Why? I dun’ deserve ya, dun’ deserve any of this” voice cracking, splintering at the edges around the emotions he’s so used to burying. He can’t bury them when she’s looking at him like this.

“I’d die for you and you don’t even think you matter” she laughs sadly, but its wet, squishy, it doesn’t sit right on her face through the water that’s leaving her eyes. He wonders if she’s aware of the magnitude of what she just said, but she isn’t done, doesn’t show a sign that he can interrupt to point it out “What did I do wrong? How have I failed to show you that? I don’t understand”

Daryl has spent his whole life thinking he is in the way, that he’s a burden no matter how much he tries to prove his worth. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, but here she is crying at the thought of losing him, taking his ridiculous issues as a way she’s failed and he can’t have it, he just can’t. He reaches over, linking his fingers with hers, looking down to watch the way her thumb rubs over his fingers.

“Did I push this on ya?”

“Daryl no”

“What if I didn’t give ya a choice?”

“Daryl, look at me” she waits patiently until he turns his head to her “I chose this, I chose you” she keeps her hand in his as she eases up off the porch steps, tugging his hand until he complies, stubbing out his cigarette on the way up “Come inside”

She looks the door behind them, dims the lights before letting her hand drop and standing facing him in the middle of the room. He stands stock still, lost and confused as she strips her clothes off, purposeful but not rushed. He feels the heat that floods his cheeks.

Finally, when she’s completely naked she locks her eyes on his

“This scar, the one on my side? When I was seven I fell out of a tree, had a stick go right through, it was gross. This one on my shoulder? Argued back once with the wrong man, put me through a door. This one? See it? Put my arm through a window three sheets to the wind on bad tequila, think I wanted to end it all”

He swallows hard, never having had the stories behind the scars he’s seen. They’ve been intimate, a handful of times since this thing started, but she’s hidden almost as much as he has so this bravery is new. Astonishing.

“Do you see me, Daryl?”

“Yea-“ the crackle in his own voice cuts him off.

“Look at me and tell me I don’t look like I have a choice right now. Tell me you made me do this”

“I can’t”

He doesn’t realise he’s stopped closer until her fingers are toying with the collar of his button down.

“Please take it off”

He wants to protest, shifting on his feet in discomfort but the look on her face is so fucking soft, so open and vulnerable as she stands bare in front of him and he tries to keep his eyes on her face. He’d never deny her anything, so he undoes the buttons with shaking fingers. Hers follow, easing the shirt off his shoulders.

He shudders as she traces her fingers over the scars that litter his torso, reaching forward to place his hands around her waist, grounding and solid. Her skin is warm under his touch.

“I wish you could see yourself how I do”

“What d’ya see?” He whispers, kneading the flesh under his palms absentmindedly. He’ll deny himself the pleasure of his base urges as he’s done throughout the years, but even he’s not strong enough not to trail his hands up and down her skin, knuckles grazing the underside of her breasts with each upward stroke.

“Strong, kind, decent. You’re beautiful, Daryl Dixon”

He sucks in a sharp breath as she continues.

“Blue eyes, the way they look at me" she didn't need to look up to his gaze to know it was there, but she does anyway, sees the admiration, the pleading that's always behind his eyes "Look at your hands on me” she lays her hands over his, marvels at how much space they take up on her ribcage “Big, warm hands, safest hands I’ve ever known”

He clenches his eyes shut, shaking his head in disagreement, opening them again when he feels her palm against the stubble on his cheek.

“They’re safe, Daryl, I don’t know what’s happening in here right now” she taps his forehead with a finger “But I see you. Let me love you”

“Ya love me?”

“Yes” makes sure she looks at him when she says it, simply and firmly, no room for argument “Eyes wide open, knowing who you are, knowing what you’ve done, seeing you. Yes. I love you. Let me show you”

[naturesapphic]

Can I request a rhea ripley x fem reader where the reader is untra ticklish and Rhea finds out and dosnt do anything about it but the reader actually loves it?

I love your writing ❤️

Ticklish

Rhea ripley x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff

Everyone who was close to you, like family and friends, knew how ticklish you were. Except for your new girlfriend Rhea Ripley, who has been your girlfriend for about four months now. She didn’t know and you weren’t going to tell her at all, because every time you tell someone, they automatically tickle you to death and you get upset. To which they never understand why and they think you are overreacting.

So you probably won’t ever tell Rhea in the fear of them doing that to you. Rhea and you were backstage on raw where she was finishing up her hair and makeup. You walked up to her as she was sitting in the chair and leaned over to leave a peck on her cheek. “What was that for princess?” She smiled as she looked at you with her soft gaze she only saves for you. “Just because I wanted to and you just look really pretty right now.” You say blushing and looking down at your feet shyly.

Rhea smiled and lifted your head with her fingertips, making you look at her. “Don’t be all shy babygirl. It’s alright.” She said softly and you nodded your head. Someone came into the room and told Rhea that she had three minutes left before she had to get on. She finished everything up and she got up from her chair and hugged you, careful not to mess up her makeup. “I’ll see you in a bit my koala. You can hang out in the judgement day lounge for a bit until we need to film in there.” She said and you nodded.

“Good luck baby! Even though you really don’t need it.” You say and Rhea chuckles at you and blows you a kiss.

~ after the show ~

Raw ended and you were waiting in the judgement day lounge waiting for your girlfriend until you hear a knock on the door and your girlfriend opens it, making you jump up. You ran over to you and jump in her arms, making her chuckle. Her hands landed on your waist and you tense up, trying to hold your laugh in. Rhea felt how tense you had gotten and quickly put you down on your feet. “Baby what’s wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” She asked, worry filling her eyes. You shook your head no making her sigh out in relief.

I guess it’s now or never. “I’m extremely ticklish in some areas and I didn’t tell you because I was scared that if I told you that you would go tickle me anyway even thought I absolutely hate it.” You explain and Rheas gaze was turned from confusion to understanding. “Oh I see. That’s okay angel I won’t ever do something you don’t like. Even if I think it’s a joke. It might not be to you and I respect that.” She said as she pulls you into her strong embrace. You sigh happily and hug her tightly.

“Thank you rhe…”. You quietly said and Rhea leans down to kiss the top of your head. “No need to thank me. I don’t want my girl upset.” Rhea responded and you nodded against her chest. “Let’s go home baby and watch some horror movies.” She said smirking as she took your hand to go outside to her truck. You groaned but had a playful smile on your face as the two of you went home. From that day on, every now and then you continue to thank Rhea for being so understanding and respectful towards you and you could never thank her enough.

A/n: I wasn’t sure how to end it lol thank you anon for the request and I love you too! I hope you and the rest of y’all enoyed. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! :)

[satoruhour]

https://www.tumblr.com/deathgasmic/729345046853419008/i-hate-to-break-this-to-you-but-i-am-once-again

this with satoru. omgomgom—

a/n: fem!reader, discussions of unprotected sex, oral f! receiving, finger sucking, creampie & breeding, cum eating, jealous gojo. link to post here also anon ur mind >>>>>

oh OH OH .. OKAYYYYYY ok to start off he’s clingy as fuck to begin with so im not even sure why youd dare to flirt with gojo satoru’s girl … erm! but anyway theres prob this kyoto teacher slash sorcerer who was just posted to the region and hes nice and all …. utahime says hes leagues above gojo but also bc she just rlly fuckin hates him LMFAO. paired with the fact that gojo has an affinity to fuck at public events just cause u look so damn good in that black dress he picked out for you. but oh boy that sorcerer has insanity coming just by talking to gojo satoru’s girl !!!!

ur bf also is … possessive as hell. youve tried to tell him to not scare off random guys (or girls) who come up to you and ask you for ur number but he just . likes to scare them off. usually you’d be there to calm the situation down too cause if u were not that man will go CRAZY. ok but anyway! you already know whats in store when gojo saunters up to the two of you with drink in hand (apple cider) in hand and a hand curls around your waist and hes just like “sorry, can i steal your conversation partner”

you thought it was bc of the black dress but it’s the jealousy and suddenly everything makes sense and youre teasing him all the way to the bathroom. altho it’s futile cause the moment the lock clicks and you’re turned around and pushed up against the counter. good luck holding onto the installed racks of the sink bc he goes to his knees and eats you out like no other. gojo uses his jealousy and the lust he has for you and puts it all into his tongue

“he wishes he could taste my sweet pussy,” he basically makes out with your cunt as youre trying to keep your voice down, “what he doesnt know is that my girl gets wet for me and me only” WHEEEEW hes angry and he makes sure your pussy gets all the heat. makes you cum one, two, three times and hes sure the event’s at their dessert course right now while he still has you moaning and grinding into his mouth. now youre up on the sink’s counter, and him on his knees but he stops your orgasm just as you were reaching your high and he has to fuck you now or else he’ll die. gojo isnt even sure how he manages to survive with his throbbing cock

and it’s rough when he slams into you from behind the first time that ur moans echo in the bathroom teehee, gojo only grins, “that good, huh? not so eager to talk to other guys now, are you?” and you want to protest but he doesnt let you, shoving two fingers into your mouth and you whimper around it, basically grabbing at his wrist to suck on his fingers like u would to his cock. 

hes torn between being rough and soft to you when youre so clueless about the effect u have on people. gojo holds onto your shoulders and just speeds up making you limp over the bathroom counter and you dont seem to care about the moans any more. his dirty talk is crazy as always

“yeah… hear that? fucking slut dripping all over my cock”, “who’s making you feel this way, hm? who’s fucking you so deep?”, “pretty baby looks so stunnin’ in her black dress talking to some sorcerer … but she looks better stuffed.”

you giggled a little at that one but you have no time to catch ur breath bc hes cumming deep in you and oh my god you arent sure if hes just fuelled by adrenaline or WHAT but he cums so so much in u it gets you dizzy. as with satoru.

“fuck… made to take my cum, yeah?” and he makes sure you know it bc he is immediately hooked when he removes his cock and you’re trying to keep it in yet there’s globs of cum that leave ur pussy and drips to the floor HAHREBW gojo fucking loses it and has to fuck you again until you’re full of his cum.

“look at me in the mirror as i breed you, sweetheart.”, “feel that? got s’much cum jus’ for you”, “ wanna feel this pussy ‘round me until i can’t any more. don’t think little mr. kyoto over there could fuck you this well, right?” he. is. gross. 

snaps pics of ur cum filled cunt after. youre spent, leaning over the counter and exhausted and catching your breath and your eyes widen in panic when gojo gets to his knees again and latches his mouth onto your soaking pussy ….. and eats the cum right outta you! disgusting filthy man oh i need him to do that to me.

the higher ups told u not to come to the next gala dinner LMAOOO

[n0tamused]

hi!! i saw that your requests are open so i just wanted to ask if you could write fluffy relationship headcanons of mortefi and aalto with a gn!reader in mind? these two are just so lajdxhanflvksjahsbxjs i really like them a lot <3 (which is why mortefi pls come home pspspspsspsps)

also, i really love your writing!! it induces serotonin and dopamine in me bc 1) characters feel really accurate, 2) the flow and how you write each scene is so smooth and beautifully descriptive, and 3) dialogue feels realistic and natural!! anyways, have a good day!!

A/N: First Aalto request-! Your wish is my command, anon! And thank you so much for your sweet words, they really made my day and reassured me with my writing :) I do hope this can make you happy too, enjoy! <3 And you have a good day too!<3

Aalto:

-Let me say this first- this man has energy for both of you and Encore, he is extroverted so you can rest assured that if you’re not in the mood for much talking that he has you covered. Don’t want to talk to someone? He is talking for you. Don’t feel like running to the store to buy something? He is already getting his boots on. 

-Despite having the energy of being too open, discretion flows through his blood and he would never say anything you wouldn’t like him saying to anyone else. You could say you pushed someone down the stairs and he’d be sitting opposite of you like “oh! okay!” and then pretends he never heard of it

-On the topic of that, if you ever need any information, he is your man to turn to, and all information may be yours for the discounted price of 3 kisses, maybe more if he’s feeling cheeky.

-Loves teasing you and getting into playful banter, it’s the sweetest thing to him. Playful insults too, but if you pretend to be hurt, he comes up to you to “kiss the hurt away” and he just babies you until you break character. If he, by accident, really does hit a nerve he drops the play and apologizes quickly, and would probably feel bad about it for longer than he’d let on, but you’d know by the abundance of gifts and the fact he wants to do about everything for you 

-He also loves to get a little rough,  nothing serious but along with the verbal banter he likes a little bit of a tussle. Interlacing your fingers and pushing and pulling, laughing along with you until one of you loses your balance or yields. Loves to playfight with you in bed too, before you two go to sleep until he traps you in an embrace that you’ll have to fall asleep in

-He can be a pretty hard sleeper, so good luck trying to get out of his hold. He can be easy to wake, he has a sixth sense for danger too

-Despite his big and extroverted demeanor, sometimes he wishes for nothing more but an evening of silence with his head in your lap, sighing softly as you card your fingers through his hair, smiling if you decide to kiss his forehead

-Encore is your big bonding point. She comes with Aalto like a bonus package, and as chaotic as she can be she is really sweet and loves whoever uncle Aalto trusts enough to be his partner

-Sometimes she stays over, and a lot of times you can see her indulge in making little trinkets, some of them which are for you, some for others

-Even at her young age she has lots of stories to share, and her and Aalto make one hell of a story-teller duo

-Aalto does need to go out to business a lot, and sometimes it takes him days to get what he was sent out to do, and in all that time he misses his home (you) greatly

-He can’t guarantee to send you letters in this time period, as even a small mistake can mean doom of his mission, but he does promise to try, if only to lessen your own worries

Mortefi:

-A relationship Mortefi isn’t difficult, and it can be classified as quite the low maintenance. This does not mean he doesn’t love you or give you your due attention and love, it’s just that both of you are busy with your work and separate lives. You two just seem to never lose that spark no matter how much time you spend apart

-He never liked the idea of combining his love life and work life together into one big mess, he knows it carries its own risks and distractions, and in his field of science that is dangerous. And with this his time management between work and you is impeccable 

-He is there for you when you need him, and his love language is mainly acts of service.

-Words aren’t his forte and he can find it difficult to express his love, he still tries. Perhaps not with his own lips, but he looks for symphonies of his feelings in other songs and melodies before he shows you the one that encapsulates all he feels towards you

-He is the sort of person to send you random article links, be it about something aimed to improve your health, or links to poems or songs. Just drops them or hoards them in your chats..

-Mortefi is a bit sensitive to smells, he really doesn’t like strong odors unless it's those antiseptic chemicals that keep his lab sparkly clean. So he doesn't wear any strong colognes either. It’s the softer smells he wears, musky with woody accents mmmm

-He is a clean freak and can get a bit snappy if he finds his lab messy due to some subordinate’s negligence or if he doesn’t have time to tidy up his home

-He starts huffing and puffing like a mother hen as he stomps around throwing everything into place, tucking every corner back into its place meticulously

-He cleans his own things, and a lot of times goes to tidy your own things since he’s already at it, and really doesn’t like seeing any sort of mess, small or big

-Does gently remind you to pick up after yourself, whether you’re with him and even more so if you’re not with him

-He is an organized hoarder. He has a whole shelf for his little things, some he made and some he got or found while on field expeditions. He is more than happy to tell you about them if you’re curious about their origins or purpose

-He can sometimes spend a lot of time in the office in his home, working on little projects for the kids that would visit the lab soon, and other time he also spends working on gifts for you

-One of the ways he shows his love to you, besides little practical devices, utility belts and multi purpose watches and compasses, is to make you deserts.

-Sweet treats are his specialty but if you he hears you are craving something savory he does know a few recipes that might be to your liking

-Knows how to whip up a bomb medicinal soup btw, that thing can regrow your limbs I’m sure

-Loves to kiss your nape a lot. Especially in those quiet moments when you’re doing something at home and he just comes up behind you, kissing your nape gently and inhaling your scent

-Loves to kiss your head too. It’s just so practical but also shows how tender he can be, how careful and tender his love is. If you’re hugging him he just turns his head and plants his lips to your temple or the top of your head, sometimes he’d lean in and whisper something sweet to you too

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[temis-de-leon]

When Greed is too much

Characters: Mammon x gn!MC

Main Masterlist

M. Anon: good day, tennis. im an anon who lurks around your work. i find your work fascinating and I hope you may make a small oneshot for me. can you make a mammon x reader fanfiction? the pronounce doesn't matter. and the fanfiction could be about mammon and reader sneaking out frequently because mammon likes to gamble and they get caught one day and mammon took all of the blame for himself. i think it would be a good idea for a oneshot. but putting that aside, I adore your work. i like how you describe everything and your headcanons are interesting. i hope you can keep uploading. sending platonic loves.

A/N: I got a little distracted and made Mammon feel guilty af instead of taking the blame, I'm sorry, I hope you like it anyways <3 A little reference right at the end

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Mammon had a complicated relationship with money.

He loved it too much to hate it and he needed it enough to forgive the danger it brought within. He would inlay it under his skin if he could, if Lucifer let him, making him shine under the lights like a kaleidoscope.

Cold metal between his fangs to check its authenticity, smooth paper sliding through his fingers, hard plastic shaping his wallet. Jewellery, clothes, his car. He had them because he needed it in any way, shape or form, like water to fish, riches to him. A bottomless pit that got bigger and bigger the more he threw in.

His fingers were longer and thinner than his brothers’ and more than once he had wondered if his sin had modified his body to easily indulge in it. He was also the fastest runner when he needed to and he could turn his words to honey if the situation required it. An opportunist thief, even if he disliked the term.

And he knew stealing wasn’t okay, but no amount of Lucifer’s punishments would stop him from doing so. He could manage hanging upside down for hours on end and, even when the lectures were painfully boring and made him want to die, sitting in the same position for as long as his brother decided was something he could live through. Lotan, or rather the flood it implied, was a bothersome threat and, although terrifying, the witches wouldn’t seriously hurt him unless Lucifer knew he could take it.

Still, constantly going through that was annoying, so he went to the next best thing, a place where condemned souls like him got together and did what pleasured him the most: bring money to the table. The wheel of fortune laid deep in his chest; sometimes he deceived himself, others, he was right.

Fortunately for his ego, his dignity and his integrity, Mammon had found his perfect lucky charm. Human shape and devoted to him, every time MC joined him in his escapades, his wallet came back home fatter than when they left. It was refreshing and addicting and it didn’t take him too long to actually need MC’s presence each time he left the house to gamble.

At first it was just once or twice every week and a half, then at least once a week, then three times a week, then every night. He would invite them to his room, taking advantage of the alibi their relationship offered, hang out and fool around until every single one of his brothers was asleep and then sneak out through the garage door.

It was a fun, bonding time between them. Holding hands while running from one corner of the town to another, pockets heavier and heavier as the night went by and clothes reeking of the cigars, alcohol and perfume of those who pushed them around amidst the chaos of the casino.

Mammon lived for all of that, especially now that MC was by his side, watching him thrive and win, over and over and over again. In their eyes, he succeeded and he was the one to carry the golden medal. Not his brothers, not their friends, him.

Eventually, he did what he did best and pushed his luck.

After an outstanding winning streak, they finally got to the night when everything went astray, losing every bet and every game, eventually finding themselves deep in debt with the casino and a bunch of furious patrons and, although begrudgingly, admitting that a period of restraint was long overdue.

And then they got home.

“When will you learn?” Lucifer said for the hundredth time while tightening the rope around his torso and trapping his hands behind his back.

“C’mon! It wasn’t that bad!”

He tried to smile to downplay the situation, but it came out wobbly and his fear was too obvious for his brother to ignore. Lucifer grinned with malice, eyes darkening in evil enjoyment before bending down to tie Mammon’s ankles together, slow in his movements and his words.

“Do you truly think this would’ve ended well? We both know you’re an idiot, but the limits you’re willing to cross outstand me. Bringing MC into this? Really? You moronic dimwit… I thought you would be the last to put them in danger. Alas, I was wrong”

“I’ve never put them in danger”

His immediate response brought Lucifer back to his feet, both of them now serious and locking eyes with each other. Mammon felt the rough edges of the rope scraping his skin, uncomfortably keeping him in place under his brother’s infuriated gaze.

“Taking them out of the house for hours every night, making them play games against lowlife demons and risking their safety for a few coins, what is that to you if not jeopardizing their life?”

“A few coins? We made ourselves rich!”

“Is that what bothers you about what I just said?”

“I’m telling you they were safe with me!”

Lucifer sighed, shaking his head in disappointment and going around Mammon. A noise coming from behind filled him with dread and he didn’t have time to beg for more time before something pulled his feet to the side and his body hit the carpeted floor. It barely softened the fall and soon his pained groans reached every corner of the staircase.

“You truly never learn”

“I’ll do it! I’ll learn! Please don’t leave me here! You can’t abandon your baby brother here, can’t you? It was an honest mistake!”

“Mammon”

After securing the rope around one of the beams from the ceiling, the eldest took a few steps down and looked at him from above. His voice was low, hopeless, and Mammon found that more hurtful than the strong grip around his limbs or the pounding on his head.

“You’re lucky MC’s heart shines brighter than mine” Lucifer said, leaving him speechless “One of these days you will go too far and I’m not sure who will be there to catch you”

“What…?”

“Rest well, Mammon” he continued to go down the stairs, not bothering to look at him anymore. He spoke one last time before disappearing completely. “And think about what I said, will you?”

Lucifer’s footsteps merged into the night, the lights turned off and, suddenly, Mammon found himself alone.

He was still wearing the clothes he’d chosen to go to the casino hours ago, jewellery dangling over his face and DDD threatening to fall out of his pocket. The screen lightened up, showing MC’s name, and the desperation to answer the call made him squirm enough to ultimately make the phone fall to the bottom of the stairs. He grimaced at the cracking sound.

Asmo would say it was karma for being a scumbag and he didn’t know if he should start believing that.

He wasn’t a scumbag, was he? MC was fine! Not a scratch in their pretty face to complain about and every bit of their outfit still in place and making them look even better. They had been smiling when they finally got to the garage door, shallowly breathing while they checked him out in search of any type of damage.

They were fine.

They had been smiling because they’d been having fun. Or was it out of relief? Heart beating in fear, terrified about him and the punishment that awaited them both once Lucifer found them.

Mammon craned his neck, looking at the remains of his DDD with a sting in his throat. Why did MC call him? Were they mad at him? Did they have enough? The thought of actually putting them in danger for a piece of metal, easily ripped paper or soon to be frozen plastic made his hear stop in panic.

He was a fast runner, an immortal demon with wings. It was easy for him to flee and leave his troubles behind, but MC didn’t have the same advantages. They were a human, flesh and soul in close proximity, easy to eat and forget.

A gasp escaped him at the image of his partner being tore apart and he shook his head trying to chase it away, but it was no use. He closed his eyes and it was there, like an omen or a reminder, Lucifer’s words roaring in his mind.

His name got louder and louder until It finally sounded right next to his ear. A hand cupped his neck and MC’s worried face appeared in his line of vision, but the remorse didn’t let him feel relief.

“Are you okay? Let me get you down. I got out as soon as I could, but I’m sure Lucifer knows I’m here anyways. What a way to end the night…”

He huffed at their whispers, his heart breaking piece by piece. Looking at MC and the way they carefully untied the knots, he knew Lucifer was right. The dumb human was too good for him and didn’t want to acknowledge it, choosing instead to stick by his side each day until it would be too late.

“I’m sorry” he finally said in a broken voice.

“For what, dummy?”

“I put you in danger”

MC chuckled, kissing his jaw before freeing his arms and watching the rope fall down. Mammon leaned forward until he touched his feet, noticing his body burning while he worked the knots that creased the leather in his boots.

“How did you put me in danger?” they asked with a hint of humour in their voice “As far as I know, I went with you willingly and we had a bad night. It was bound to happen after winning that much money”

“But they almost attacked us…”

“We got out of there just in time” MC interrupted him, then frowned and put their hands on their hips. “Did Lucifer said something to you?”

“No”

The lie was obvious and MC licked their teeth in poorly contained fury. Seconds later, Mammon finally set himself free and swung on the rope to reach the banister. Once he settled and stood straight, MC rushed to hug him. Both of them stayed silent and basking in the comfort that surrounded them.

He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg them not to reprimand Lucifer and he wanted to thank them for freeing him and staying with him beyond what he definitely deserved, but no words came out and forcing them would make him cry; and doing that in front of MC would definitely kill him faster than Lucifer could ever do.

In the end, none of them said anything, instead clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Slowly, as if they were handling a wounded animal, MC grabbed his hands and lead him towards their room.

What did that human movie say?

He’d die for them. He’d kill for them. Either way, what bliss.

.

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hello! Recently read your latest Rin piece and fell in love with your writing style :)

If you’re up for it, could I request childhood friends with Hiori? Sorry it’s a little vague, but I love the direction you’ve taken other pieces and wanted to leave the details up to you! My only suggestion on a detail would be maybe sprinkling in some light angst about his parents/backstory.

Thank you for considering!

── WHITE BUTTERFLY

Synopsis: You spend the years of your youth with Yo Hiori, in a field that’s almost lonely as the two of you.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Hiori x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: childhood friends, hiori is vaguely suicidal and also vaguely homicidal, uhh i feel like i know nothing about him as a character so popping that sexy little ooc warning in there jic, open ending, lots of #nature, almost the entire story takes place in a field so idk, hiori is like. madly in love w reader but he’s nonchalant abt it

A/N: thank you so much anon that means a lot!! cherry tree rin and y/n are so silly (<- affectionate) i’m glad you enjoyed that fic 💖 one thing about me i love a good childhood friends to lovers trope especially with angst…hiori is another character i haven’t written a ton for so i hope i interpreted him correctly and that you like what i decided to do with your prompt!! ty for requesting 🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

The field across from your house was melancholic and desolate, an acre or so of rolling green that bled into trees at the edges. Although by all rights it should’ve been considered a picturesque place, no amount of beauty could take away from the abandoned atmosphere which had long ago settled over the land.

According to your parents, there had been plans for a grand mansion to be built in that location, but before drafts for its construction could be drawn up, the owner had died. The son who had inherited it had no use for the plot, but neither could he be brought to sell the place of his father’s dreams, so the land had sat empty and unused for years upon years. 

People thought the area was cursed, and the general consensus was that it ought to be avoided, but your parents did not believe in things like curses and bad luck and whatnot, so they told you it was fine if you wanted to play there. You were a lonely child, prone to wandering off on your own anyways, and you supposed they must’ve reasoned to themselves that it’d be easier if you were close enough that you could run home should something happen. 

You would sit in the middle of the field, far from any prying eyes, and you’d admire the blooming plants beneath your feet. It was not just grass — there were a million and one varieties of things growing in that wild place, and you would run your fingers along their leaves, doing your best not to frighten the animals and insects which called that field their home.

They grew accustomed to you with time, and instead of shying away, they invited you into their own world. The squirrels and chipmunks would dash out from their trees to scuttle around your feet and splayed hands, while the dormice would peek out of their burrows without fear, nibbling on whatever seeds they had gathered before settling in for the day. The larks would warble to you, and if you were in a particularly cheery mood, you’d whistle back to them, trying to imitate their melodies but always falling a little short.

The third time you went to the field, you found that someone had arrived before you. For a moment, you thought that he must be a ghost, for he stood in such stark contrast to everything you had come to know that there was no other reasonable explanation for it. He was spindly and pale like a skeleton, and his shaggy hair and eyes were the color of winter, such an unnatural shade compared to the viridian he was surrounded by.

You were contemplating running away when he turned around, his eyes widening when he saw you. In his hands was a soccer ball, and resting on the soccer ball was a large white butterfly, its lazily flapping wings shimmering like a whisper in the sunlight.

You were both silent for a moment, a soft breeze rustling through the field and sounding like a song that urged you towards him despite your misgivings. Tentatively, he held the ball out towards you, but the motion startled the butterfly, which abruptly took to the air, fluttering away before either of you could react.

“Who are you?” you said.

“Yo Hiori,” he said. “Who are you?”

“Y/N L/N,” you said. “I live in the house across the street.”

“We’re neighbors, then,” he said. “My house is a few doors down from yours. Do you come here often?”

“Yes,” you said. “Do you?”

He shook his head ruefully. “This is the first time. My parents think I’m practicing soccer right now.”

“You shouldn’t do that here,” you said, frowning at the thought of him kicking up dirt and slamming a ball around carelessly through your sanctuary. “Go somewhere else if you want to play something so reckless.”

“I don’t,” he said. You furrowed your brow. “Don’t want to practice soccer, I mean.”

“I see,” you said. “Well, this is a good place to run to if that’s the case. No one will come looking for you here.”

“Is that the truth?” he said. “Really?”

“Really,” you said. “Everyone thinks it’s cursed, but in truth, I think that that just means it’s blessed.”

“Ah,” Hiori said. “But do you mind?”

“Do I mind what?” you said.

“If I keep coming here,” he said. “When I want to run away.”

“It doesn’t belong to me. I suppose you could say I belong to it, but that’s neither here nor there. No, I can’t stop you, so why would I mind?” you said.

“Are you some sort of woodland fairy?” he said. You laughed aloud.

“I wish. Are you a ghost?” you said. He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said.

“Then I guess our claims to this place are equal,” you said. “Anyways, as long as you don’t disturb it too much, I won’t be angry. I’ll do the same for you, don’t worry.”

“I don’t care what you do to it,” he said. “I just want to go somewhere that’s quiet and I can be left alone.”

This much you could understand, and you thought that perhaps Hiori would grow to be an exception to your loneliness, or an addition to it. Not a cure, because that did not exist, but a person who could relish in his own solitude and share in that inexplicable sensation which was your greatest joy.

You never saw him anywhere but in that field. You weren’t sure if he even existed outside of its context, or if he was like the dormice and the larks, a skittish creature who made his home in those grassy divots and only appeared to greet you before running back off to hide once you were gone.

At first, he was even more reserved than the animals had been. Neither of you spoke, but somehow, it happened that you were always in the same place at the same time, and eventually, little by little, the two of you became dependent on one another’s presence. Your life before meeting Hiori was pale and lifeless in comparison to your life after, and the first time you both spoke as friends instead of strangers, you thought to yourself that you could never go back to the way you had previously been.

No longer did you whistle at birds and play with squirrels; instead, you sat across from Hiori and listened to him explain things like soccer and video games. You were not particularly interested in either of these subjects, but as long as it was Hiori, you didn’t mind hearing about them. It was the cadence of his voice you were concerned with, the rise and fall of his words, the soft inflections of each syllable. 

You had never had a friend before. It was a personal choice rather than a failing; every person who tried to engage with you was met with the same disdain, for you found no appeal in any such clumsy attempts at camaraderie. In your childish mind, friendship ought to be hard-won and delicately kept, and so it remained that of all the people in the world, Hiori was the only one whose honest company you could prefer.

He was a forlorn and low-spirited boy, the winter to your bursting summer, but his coldness was the inviting sort, like a dusting of snow on a cluster of berries or frost on a forgotten bird’s nest. It did not ward you away but drew you in, your breath fogging in the air as you lay beside him and listened to him ramble on and on about whatever topics struck his fancy.

Sometimes he was prone to muteness, and on those occasions you took it upon yourself to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling him along behind you and naming every plant and tree and flower you passed by, greeting the tittering chipmunks and the cooing larks and the peeping rabbits. He would not say anything, but you knew he was listening, for he would smile slightly whenever you pointed at something he found particularly pleasing.

Every day, he would bring the soccer ball with him. He refused to put it down, but neither did he play with it or even acknowledge its existence; you sensed it vexed him, that it was the source or a symptom of the gloomy undercurrent which ran through his life, but he could not let it go, just like he could never truly be happy in any way that lasted.

“Y/N,” he said once, when you and he were lying on your backs in the grass and watching the clouds drift by. “If you could be any other creature, what would you be?”

“I don’t know,” you said, considering the question seriously. “Maybe a songbird. What about you?”

“I’d be one of those,” he said, pointing at a butterfly floating past. It was a common variety, nondescript and plain and white, but somehow made more beautiful by the ubiquity of its kind.

“Why?” you said.

“I’d live a short but carefree life, and then I would die before anyone could demand anything from me,” he said, smiling slightly and closing his eyes. “Plus, if I could be something as small and pretty as a butterfly in our meadow, then I would be able to spend my entire existence resting on your finger.”

Your meadow. You weren’t sure when it had gone from being a place you visited to a place you owned, but yes, the shift had definitely occurred. You and Hiori loved it, and so it was yours by that right alone. You reached out your hand, setting it on his heart and then closing your own eyes in a mirror of his position.

“I wouldn’t prefer that,” you said. Something cool and soft curled over your fingers; you knew without looking that it was Hiori’s own hand, which would always come to rest against yours like a magnet.

“Hm,” he said.

“I’d get used to you being there,” you explained. “And then one day you’d vanish and I’d be alone again.”

“Would you miss me?” he said.

“Very much,” you said. 

“Nobody else would,” he admitted, though he still spoke in an even monotone. “I’d be replaced quickly. Someone just as talented or even better would take my place, and then it’d be like I was never there in the first place.”

“I’d miss you,” you insisted. “I don’t care about talent. You’re someone who’s irreplaceable to me.”

“I see,” he said. “Then I guess, if not a butterfly, I would also want to be a songbird. Like you.”

“We could fly around the world together,” you said. 

“Yes,” he said. “The countries I’ve seen in my video games…we could go to them. If we were birds, we could.”

“Maybe we still can,” you said.

“We can’t,” he said. “My parents would never let me.”

“What about when we’re adults? They can’t tell you what to do then, so we can leave them behind and travel wherever we want,” you said.

“It’s a nice dream,” he said.

“Hold onto it,” you said. “That’s the only way it can ever come true.”

“Okay,” he said. “I will.”

Even as you and Hiori became older and made friends outside of one another, there was a sort of solace which only he could provide you and which in turn only you could provide him, so neither of you ever outgrew that field. The moment you got home from school, you’d drop your bag on the counter and run there as fast as you could, hoping to see him before he had to leave for soccer practice. And every time, without fail, he’d be there, waiting where he always was, his small smile widening when he saw you racing towards him.

The contents of your conversations changed, moving from games and plants to complaining about schoolwork and updating one another about your respective social lives and dramas — he went to a private academy for soccer, while you attended the public school that most kids your age went to — but the familiarity never diminished. If anything, it only increased, as any inhibitions you had had in your youths gradually fell away.

“Hiori! You’ll never believe it,” you said, moving his abandoned soccer ball aside and sitting across from him. He did not look up from the pieces of grass he was braiding together, but he nodded to indicate he was listening. “Remember those two guys I was telling you about?”

“The ones who had a crush on the same girl?” he said.

“Yup, those two,” you said. “They finally got into a fistfight over her! It was crazy.”

“Who won?” he said.

“The principal, because he broke up the brawl and suspended them both,” you said. “Thereby ruining their brief romance-novel-moment entirely.”

“That’s a pity,” he said with a snort. “I can’t imagine what possessed them to do something as stupid as beating each other up on school grounds.”

“Love makes people crazy,” you said dramatically, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead and collapsing backwards into the dirt. “You’ll understand when you feel it yourself, silly Hiori.”

“Huh?” he said.

“I mean, one day, you’ll fall madly in love with someone, and then you’ll be inclined to beat another person up for them,” you said.

“What if I already have?” he said. You shot up with a gasp.

“And you didn’t tell me? Who is it? Who, who? You can’t hide stuff like that!” you said.

“It was only a hypothetical,” he said. “There isn’t anyone. What about you? Are you madly in love with someone?”

“You’ll be the first to know when I am, but at the moment, I don’t find myself able to even tolerate any of the boys I go to school with! They’re all disgusting, immature, and insensitive. Just looking at them is enough to make me gag, so forget about falling in love!” you said.

“That sucks,” he said.

“Maybe I’ll be single forever,” you said. “I’ll live alone, with pets and a porch swing and a backyard just like this field, somewhere faraway where no one can find me.”

“What about me?” he said, taking your wrist and tying the braided grass around it like a bracelet.

“Well, I’ll tell you where I am, of course,” you said. “You’re the only one I would want as a visitor.”

“I’ll come every day,” he said.

“At that point, you might as well just live there with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’d save you the time spent traveling back and forth.”

“Would you like me to?” he said. “I thought the point was for you to be alone.”

“If it’s you, then it wouldn’t be so bad,” you said. “Being with you is even better than being alone.”

The sun hit Hiori at the exact moment that he grinned at you, and in the back of your mind, where things were understood but not known, you recognized that of all the beings in that lovely place, he was far and away the loveliest.

A distant and rumbling thunder portended a storm on the day you learned who Hiori really was. He never went to the field if it was raining — there was no excuse for him to escape his home, and so, though you did not much mind the weather, you tended to keep to your room on those days as well. Today, though, the rain was still only a blot on the horizon, which meant you would have a precious few minutes with him before it began to pour and you had to leave again.

“Hey, Hiori,” you said. In an uncharacteristic move, he wasn’t holding onto the soccer ball; instead, it was on the ground, his foot resting atop it, his head bowed towards it and his hands balled into fists at his sides. He glanced up at you, and you were surprised to see that there was a dead, hollow quality to his eyes, which, though always placid and still, were never this shade of dark and dreary. “Is everything okay?”

“Have you ever wanted to kill someone?” he said.

“No,” you said immediately, taken aback. “Have you?”

“No,” he said. “Yes. I’m not sure. I don’t want to do it, but somehow, I want my parents to die.”

Another crack of thunder. You approached Hiori slowly, like he was a deer that would leap away the instant you were close enough to touch him. But he was not a deer, and he stayed preternaturally immobile, his harsh panting the only signal that he was a person and not a statue.

“Do you mean that?” you said when you were near enough to him that you could’ve embraced him if you wanted. “Is that really how you feel, Hiori?”

“Yes,” he said vehemently. “Yes, I mean it more than anything. Everything would be better if they would just die and leave me alone.”

He drew his leg back and slammed it into the ball. It streaked through the field, leaving a muddy rut in its wake, tearing up the grass and the flowers before crashing into a tree with a groan. You stared at the path of devastation it had wrought, wondering how such an innocent object could create such havoc, how such a simple act could have such irreversible consequences.

“That’s what soccer is,” he said when he had caught his breath and noticed your silence. “A tiring game you play to ruin yourself.”

“I thought you liked playing soccer,” you said. “You always told me how good you were at it.”

“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I like it,” he said. “I hate it almost as much as I hate the people that make me play it.”

“Then why do you keep going?” you said. “Why don’t you quit?”

“Because I have to,” he said. “My parents gave birth to me so that I could play soccer and be the best at it. That’s the only role I know how to conform to, so how can I do anything but accept it?”

You wrapped one arm and then the other around his torso, leaning your temple against the dip of his collarbone, turning your back to the blight he had caused and holding onto him as lightning split the sky.

“Don’t ruin yourself,” you said. “Don’t betray who you are because other people tell you to. If you don’t want to play soccer, then don’t. Quit and leave it behind. Maybe everyone else will mock you, but would it be enough if I didn’t? If I alone swore not to think any less of you, then would you be able to do it?”

“No,” he said. Something dripped onto your head, and you thought it had started raining early until you realized that Hiori’s voice was catching on nothing, his heart beating as fast as a mouse’s. “No, it wouldn’t be enough. I have to play soccer.”

“Why?” you said.

“My parents,” he said. “If I don’t play soccer — no, if I’m not good at soccer, they’ll divorce. They’ll divorce and it’ll be my fault, so I have to keep doing it, because no matter how much I hate them, I can’t be — I can’t be the reason that they — that anything bad happens to them.”

The droplets came in quicker succession, but with a final clap of thunder, the sky opened to let the rain out, blurring the line between his tears and the natural precipitation which would’ve occurred whether or not you were there.

You didn’t know what to say to him, so you opted to say nothing, pressing into him for as long as you could before you both had to go, leaving one another behind as you were always forced to. Now, though, there was a proof of your existence in the shape of that ugly gash that his soccer ball had torn into the field, an alteration which was directly a consequence of your actions. In a season or two, it would be grown over, but for the time being, it cheered you to think that the world could no longer avoid acknowledging you, acknowledging that you and Hiori were real, that you were alive and belonged.

In your second year of high school, a boy in your class came up to you, stopped you in the hallway in front of everyone and thrust a bouquet of supermarket flowers into your hands. He asked you to read the attached card, and you obliged, though you had a feeling you already knew what it said.

As you had predicted, it was an invitation to have lunch with him sometime. His cheeks were red and his smile was wide as he waited for you to say yes, but all you could think of when you looked at him was Hiori. How would he feel about this turn of events? Would he be amused or jealous or unfazed entirely? Would it even matter to him? Why were you thinking of him at a time like this?

No, that last question was one you knew the answer to already. The reason why you were thinking of Hiori was the same reason you still went to that field to see him, even though you were far too old to play with mice and birds and clovers now. It was the same reason that you recoiled from any other boy who tried to talk to you — because they were not him, they could never be him. It was because — it was because —

Much to the consternation of the audience you had unwillingly gathered, you handed the card and flowers back to the boy, shaking your head as politely as you could. There was a demand for an explanation on the tip of his tongue, but you left before he could make it. The explanation was not one you wanted to share, so you covered your ears with your hands to drown out the insults he shouted after you and strode away before he could say anything worse.

Hiori was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, so it was no surprise that he was waiting for you where he always was. Today, though, you did not bother with formalities or welcomes or lighthearted questions. You paid no mind to his antsy demeanor, instead catching his hands between your own and squeezing them.

“Y/N—”

“Hiori—”

You both called out each other’s names at the same time, with the same urgency, though there was a layer of despair when he said Y/N, just as there was pleading infused into the way you murmured Hiori.

“You first,” he said, though he looked over your shoulder, staring towards the road instead of at you. “Quickly.”

“Okay,” you said. “A boy asked me out.”

“Oh,” he said, and when his gaze slid onto you, you noticed that for the first time, there was something flaring to life in the blank depths of his irises, a veritable maelstrom of unreadable emotions twisting together and blending into something entirely other than the stillness you had come to expect from him. “What did you say?”

“I refused,” you said. “I couldn’t date him, not in good conscience. Not when I like — not when there’s someone else.”

“Someone else?” he said. “Y/N, please hurry.”

“What’s the matter?” you said, letting go of his hands so that you could instead hold his face. “Hiori, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you in trouble with your soccer team? Is that stupid crow boy causing you problems?”

“What? No, no, Karasu’s not done anything worse than usual. It’s my parents, I think they’re growing suspicious of me, I’m afraid they’ll—”

“It’s you,” you said, cutting him short, his haste rubbing off on you. You weren’t sure whether it was his anxiety or your own or some sort of divine premonition, but you suddenly felt an impending doom, as if you had to speak at that exact instant or give up the chance to ever say it again. “Hiori, you’re the reason I said no. It’s because I like you.”

Hiori, who had carved his way into your heart on the very first day you met, who was fond of butterflies and songbirds, who was bashful like winter and gentle like dusk. How could you help it? Of course you liked him. That boy who had reached into the lonely chasm of your soul and ripped it out, turned it into something lighter and warmer and whole…how could you help falling for him?

“Me?” he said in disbelief. “But—”

“So this is where you go, Yo,” a stern voice said. Hiori inhaled sharply, and then he yanked away from you, shoving you behind him, though it was far too late. You knew who had finally found the two of you, and furthermore, there was no way she hadn’t seen you. “This doesn’t look like practicing soccer. How much time have you been wasting in this dump, with this fool of a girl?”

You peered around Hiori’s back, holding onto the hem of his shirt. Fear constricted your throat when you saw a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to him standing before you, her hands on her hips, a dour expression on her face. Whatever had been sparkling in Hiori at your confession had abruptly disappeared, replaced by an even more severe version of himself.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “We just met recently.”

“Not a big deal? Think about how much better at soccer you would be if you actually spent this time practicing instead of messing around! A few minutes every day is the difference between starting for a team and being a substitute, because a few minutes every day turns to hours every week, which turns into days lost every month! You should be ashamed of yourself,” his mother said, marching over and grabbing him by the collar, wrenching him away from you. “From now on, I’ll be supervising your additional practice time. As for you, young lady…don’t even think of coming near him again. He doesn’t need distractions like you getting in the way of his ultimate goal.”

“His ultimate goal?” you said, your audacity surprising even yourself. Without Hiori’s shadow to hide you, you were entirely naked and exposed, but somehow, you found the strength in you to speak up. “What, of being the world’s best soccer player? Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe he doesn’t want that anymore, if he ever did?”

His mother scowled at you. “You are a poison of the worst sort, if you have him doubting what he’s been aiming for since he was young. Stay away from my son. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She dragged Hiori away before either of you could manage so much as a goodbye. It was the first time since you had met him that you found yourself alone in that field, which suddenly felt so vast that you finally understood why people thought it to be cursed. It had to be, because why else would it have given you Hiori and then taken him away with such a swiftness that it left you reeling?

For a week, you continued to go to the field, just in case he would magically be there, but it was a foregone conclusion that he would not be. Still, you waited, and though the larks sang their songs and the dormice chittered at you sweetly, nothing could set your spirits right when Hiori remained missing.

On the eighth day you spent without him, you didn’t even bother with the field. Instead, you knocked on every door of every house in your small neighborhood, continuing on until the one who answered was the same woman who had stolen Hiori from you. 

She remembered you, her expression turning sour at your appearance, like you had shoved a lemon into her mouth. Shockingly, though, she did not slam the door in your face. She only cleared her throat before speaking in the most abrasive voice you had ever had the misfortune of hearing.

“What is it?” she said.

“Hiori — Yo, is he around? I just want to see him one last time. I’ll leave him alone after that if you refuse to budge, but at least let me say goodbye. I won’t ever distract him again if you give me that chance,” you said. 

“If I gave you even the slightest leeway, you’d pounce upon it, won’t you? I’m not so daft. I’m sure that, if I let you in now, you’d never leave. In the end, though, it’s irrelevant. Yo’s gone,” she said.

“Gone?” you said. “What do you mean?”

“He’s participating in a soccer training camp called Blue Lock,” his mother said. “The way they raise their players is what his father and I been trying to impress upon him from the start, so we’re glad he made the choice himself to go. Now, he can focus on his own self-improvement instead of brief dalliances that would never last.”

Hiori was gone. There was a deep ache in you, and those words were its source, yet nonetheless, for him, you could only muster up pride. He had finally done it. He had flown somewhere free of the burdens his parents placed on him; to be sure, it was defined by the soccer he despised, but nonetheless he had made the decision to do it on his own. It belonged to him, and he had spent so long without anything to his name but a deserted green that you laughed as you sobbed, leaving him behind for good.

A long time passed before you saw him again, though you watched all of his matches on TV. He had become someone different and yet still familiar while in the Blue Lock program — he was sharper now, sharper and quicker, his eyes constantly burning in the same way they had on the day he had left you. Most notably, you thought that that childish love for soccer which he had had and then lost had blossomed again, now into a stable, unshakeable passion which no one, not even his parents, could take from him.

You had probably also changed, though of course it was harder to recognize it in yourself than in another person. But you were not so sparing with your offers of friendship anymore, and neither were you harsh to every boy who approached you. With Hiori gone, the only reservations you had were feeble and pointless, so you stopped saying no quite as often.

Nothing ever came of these school-type romances. Inevitably, you’d walk home and your eyes would stray to the spot where you had spent so much of your childhood with Hiori, whereupon you would pull out your phone and send a formulaic apology message. Sorry, but it’s not working. There’s nothing wrong with you, but I don’t think we’re a good match for each other. Thanks for taking me out. I really appreciate it.

The longer it became, the less frequently you thought about him. He turned into a memory, fuzzy around the edges with nostalgia and tinged with gold. He was someone you claimed to know around those with a more vested interest in soccer, but deep inside, you had accepted that your path had diverged from his a long time ago. You and Hiori weren’t meant to sit beside one another for eternity; he had been there when you needed him, but it was time for you to stand on your own, as he was clearly doing all of the way over in Blue Lock.

“I can’t believe you’ve finally graduated high school!” your mother said, sniffing as she took a million photos of you standing awkwardly, your diploma in your hands, your gown hanging loosely on your body and the pins holding up your cap jabbing into your scalp. “We’re so proud of you, dear.”

“Next stop, Tokyo!” your father said, swiping at the tears which rolled shamelessly down his cheeks.

You had been accepted into the University of Tokyo, and at the end of the summer, you would move into your own apartment, leagues away from everything you had known for your entire life. It was exciting, but it was also terrifying, because the thought of being all alone in the bustling metropolis still made you break into a cold sweat.

Now that you had officially graduated, it all seemed so much more real. Going to Tokyo, attending university, getting a job and supporting yourself…these were not dreams of a distant future but immediate and pressing concerns that weighed on you.

Once you became a university student and then an adult proper, you visited home less and less. You hardly had the time, and anyways there wasn’t much to do in that town, so instead your parents would take trips up to visit you when they missed you terribly — which was often. They would update you on the happenings of your neighbors, and you would take them to your favorite restaurants and attractions, like they were foreign tourists coming to the country for the first time. 

“You know, they finally finished construction on that plot across from our house,” your mother said to you on one such visit, taking a sip of bubble tea to punctuate the outrageous statement. There were streaks of gray in her hair now, and far more lines on her face than there had been when you were younger, but she wore the signs of age with grace and dignity, so that they were weapons instead of faults. 

“You never told me someone bought it,” you said. So that was that, then; the last remnants of your tender friendship with a boy you had not spoken to in years was all but destroyed now. It belonged to another person, who would make their own memories on the land, and the thought of two other people standing where you and Hiori once had caused a lump to arise in your throat. It was as much grief for the idyllic days of your childhood as it was for your former best friend. Both were lost to you now, and both you mourned in equal measure, though you knew no amount of crying would ever bring them back.

Perhaps there had been a window of time in which you might’ve been able to reconnect with Hiori, but the idea hadn’t crossed your mind until it was far too late, and you supposed it must’ve been the same for him. Or maybe he had, upon joining Blue Lock and becoming an international celebrity, forgotten about you entirely. It was a possibility, and no matter how much it stung, it was one you did not resent him for.

“Yes, it was a while ago. Apparently, he lived in the area when he was younger, but he left to pursue some athletic career? Anyways, now that he’s rich, he wanted to invest in some property close to home, so as soon as the previous owner died, he swooped in and bought the entire field up. You know, considering how much money he has, the house is downright quaint in its design,” your mother said, shaking her head. She had a penchant for gossip, and you could not count on two hands the amount of days you both had spent giggling with each other about silly, inconsequential matters. This, though, crossed the line — it wasn’t dumb gossip but legitimate news.

“Athletic career? Do you…do you happen to remember what sport?” you said. 

“No idea,” your mother said. “Why?”

“Was it soccer?” you said. She choked on a pearl of boba. Absently, you leaned over and slapped her on the back to help dislodge it. She coughed and dabbed at her face with a napkin before nodding.

“Ah, yes, that sounds familiar!” she said. “I think that might be it.”

“I’m going to take the next few days off and visit you guys,” you said. It was a spur of the moment decision, but you could afford it, and something told you that what you would find would be far more valuable than another day at your boring, if not well-paying, job.

“Really? That’s wonderful! You’ll love how things have changed. The place has really come to life in the past couple of years,” she said.

The train ride home from Tokyo was just over two hours, and it ran through a familiar countryside, which you watched for the entire journey, smiling slightly whenever you rushed by a landmark you recognized. By the end, however, it seemed every sight was a landmark of some sort — not the nationally important ones, but the type that was personally significant. The many little places you had visited when you were young…even now, you recollected them with startling clarity.

Your father was delighted that you had returned home with your mother, and the whole house smelled like his cooking when you walked in through the front door. He must’ve begun preparing as soon as you had mentioned that you were coming back for a bit, and the grumble of your stomach warned you that you would regret it if you did not hold off on your investigation until after dinner.

You sat in the same chair you had once sat in and ate the same food you had once eaten. It was your favorite as a little girl, and your father served it to you personally, his lower lip trembling as he ladled two portions onto your plate instead of one. Hardly even a month had passed since he had seen you last, but he had always been an emotional man, bawling like a child at every reunion and separation alike.

The sun was setting when you excused yourself, placing your dishes in the sink and ducking outside under the pretense of needing a walk to digest your food. Well, it was only half a pretense — your father truly had fed you until you thought your stomach might split open, as was characteristic of his affection. You really did need to walk around so that your insides could settle, but more importantly than that, you wanted to confirm the theory which had been brewing in your mind since your mother had brought it up.

As she had said, there was a brand new house across from yours. It was nothing like the grand mansion that the original owner must’ve intended to sit on the land; it had a winsome yet unassuming charm to it, and it only took up about half of the field, while the rest of it had been left entirely alone, still green and wild like you recalled it to be. You were sure that if you looked close enough, you would find the dormice and the squirrels and the chipmunks and the larks exactly where you had left them as well, but you did not have the time nor the patience for that at present.

When you climbed the porch steps, you noticed that to the left of the door was a cushioned swing, atop which a tortoiseshell cat was dozing. At the sound of your footsteps, she opened one champagne-colored eye, but she did not seem to regard you as worthy of her attention, for she promptly closed it and returned to her rest.

Your fingers hesitated on the doorbell, resting on the button, too scared to press down. You didn’t know what you had to be afraid of, but for some reason, you were nervous, a pit forming in your stomach as you deliberated over what to do. Before you could make up your mind, the cat meowed at someone in greeting, jumping off of the swing with a light thud.

Spinning around, you saw that the owner of the house was standing at the bottom of the steps, the cat rubbing against his legs as he beamed up at you. Any lingering doubts of yours dissipated into nothingness at the instant you once again made eye contact with Yo Hiori; like a reflex, the corners of your mouth curved upwards in a fond greeting.

Like always, in his hands was a soccer ball, though more prominent than the ball itself was the butterfly which lay on it in repose. Its white wings were thin and quivering, but curiously, when Hiori held the ball out to you, it did not fly off, instead remaining stationary, waiting for you to reach out and take it.

[pauli-writes]

Could I request Aventurine with a jewelry maker s/o?

warning: light 2.1 spoilers (just that aventurine shattered his cornerstone), references to gambling, aventurine is a little mean

pairing: aventurine x reader

author’s note: thank you anon! i had so much fun writing this! (it was a good distraction from thinking about my presentation for class) this is really short again and beware that i know nothing about jewels or the likes that part was all google, but i hope you enjoy it anyways!

“so, you think it’s possible?” he was insane, out of his mind. he wanted you of all people to shatter the cornerstone the ipc has given him, something like that could probably be considered blasphemous by the ipc, you could be put on trial or worse for this.

However you didn’t say anything close to this to his face, instead only nodding along like a good little partner. “yeah, but we could get in trouble for it. i mean real trouble-“

“i know, i know,” he cut you off with a wave of his hand, starting to walk around you like a predator circling his prey. it would be unsettling for most, but you were already used to it. “but you’ll still help me right?”

you paused and looked at the beautiful aventurine stone lying on your worktable, before slowly looking back up at your blond partner in crime. “aventurine… can i be honest with you?”

“always, my sweet.” he mused with a charming smile, but you could tell inside he was not pleased about you making a fuss about this simple task he asked of you.

“this is a big gamble.”

“you’re saying that like i’m not aware of it.”

you shook your head apologetically, “i didn’t mean to insult you. it’s just- what if the risk isn’t worth the reward this time?”

his smile momentarily turned into a fake frown as he cupped your cheeks in his hands, before turning back into an amused smile. “my dear, have you not been listening to me? don’t you know? the house always wins.”

“and we are the house...“ you finished, turning aventurine’s smile into a smirk as he let go of your face.

“so, you do remember after all.“ he mused, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both gazed at the stone in the table. his grip on you tightened subtly, a small reminder that he was the one with a position in power and you only had a small little jewellery shop that you could barely keep afloat. “just don’t think too much about it. i have everything under control, so take this ugly cornerstone and turn it into something elegant, presentable and most importantly undetectable.”

you nodded and he let you get to work. you sat in front of the stone, inspecting it before even attempting to shatter it. after all this stone was said to have sealed the authority of an emanator of preservation within it, which basically meant it was dangerous as heck and you had to be careful about it.

you let out a sigh and picked up the stone, painfully aware of aventurine’s careful and scrutinising gaze on you.

“aventurine is such a pretty stone, you know?”you began, turning it in the light, letting light refract from it, “it’s a symbol of good luck, but you probably already knew that… it’s also very easily mistaken for jade for the untrained eye…”

his expression shifted slightly as you mentioned that, “oh, really?”

he stepped closer again, standing right behind you and examining his stone as well. you knew aventurine liked pretty and expensive things, he dressed up to the part he wanted to play, you remembered when he first stepped into your shop he had no clue about what was fine expensive jewellery and what was just something cheaply made and sold for an expensive price. it’s almost funny that his own stone was never a part of those conversations.

you nodded your head, presenting the aventurine in such a way it would sparkle a little. “yeah. you can’t really tell at a glance, but aventurine has a slight glittery shimmer to it. i can barely tell the difference half the time.”

“you’re so smart, reader.” he said, making you blush a little. you were very easily flustered by praise. “i think you just gave me an even better idea. i have to leave and make a call, i’ll be back later. love you.”

he gave you a kiss on the cheek before starting to walk out of your store with a hurried step. you could barely register what he had said, a new idea? how did your info dumping give him a new idea?

you shook your head, it was futile trying to figure out what he thought. quickly you stood up and shouted after him, “love you too! don’t come back too late!”

[charmedreincarnation]

I finally manifested my dream life: this ask is sent June 1st 2023

This ask wont be long bc I’m ready to experience my dream life 😊but I was the anon who entered the void pretty much everyday but was scared of the void and change. I also felt bad that not everyone knew about the law and it wasn’t fair. I sent a bunch of bloggers asks about overcoming that, but you and @fleurlx gave me the best answer and eased my worries.

I used the yoga nidra mediation and practiced with they bc with my religious and ethnic background (Indian) it was something I used on a weekly basis anyways.

I manifested my entire notes list which I will dot down here 👇

🧿being the beauty standard for Indian people (ex’s great yes we are all beautiful of course

🧿wealth for my family and myself,(we are hectamillionaires) my df and body, desires aura personality vibes and more, dream life in every aspect like my favorite shows and movies, lucky girl syndrome in every part of my life, everyone worshiping me and the ground I walk on, dream sp with a family who loves

🧿open minded family who encourages and loves my spiritual practices and engage with them as well. This one is super dope bc even though we’re still Hindu, we all manifest and know we’re God. Just like the ants on the floor, they are God and loved too. With this we manifest for each other which is fun! My older sister manifested a fairy friend, and I manifested being able to talk and understand trees and plants. Yes they speak and have life too. What makes us more superior or alive than them

🧿quantum immortality and being a master of all spiritual and Neville related practices. I want to elevate myself with all my lives, in my next ones in the next cycle of my life, whether I’m this vessel or not.

🧿being able to see my spirit guide when I call to it. Mine is a PegasusX tree X human hybrid, and it’s always protecting me l, warning me, educating me of all.

🧿telekinesis 3) and more I won’t talk about bc not everything needs to be said out loud. Good luck everyone and we all have access to this wonderful power, our birth right to be precise

I’m so proud of your shared experiences and unlimited beliefs. Actually when I would first imagine my spirit guide I would always get an image of a Pegasus and I’ve found that a lot of people have the shared mental belief which is very connecting and dope. I’m also really glad for your family manifestations ! You deserve to explore your spiritual happily and safely while being encouraged!!!

[liannelara-dracula]

Based on the hcs about how they behave in school, the little beef between Ruki and Reiji got me thinking 🧐

Hcs about they finding out that they like the same girl, but in the end she doesn't really care too much about neither of they and just interacts with them because she's polite? (She doesn't know about this beef between them, neither knows that they both like her and just think they're being friendly or smth)

Like, a girl that is a model student and etc but is very oblivious to their feelings, and is very difficult to impress?

Hi love,

This is a really good idea. I like it, I think it will be fun. Thanks for the idea anon.

-Liannelara

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Ruki & Reiji like the same Woman (hcs)

They are both trying their damn hardest to gain your attention.

And they not only don’t get along but when you came into the picture, everything was a competition.

Of course, these two wouldn’t make it obvious like Ayato and Kino that they are trying to get your attention or that something is going on between them.

They are very discreet men and can come off a little dry.

Anyways, this all started when you walked into the library to pick out a book, causing them to both look up from their work since they heard a captivating feminine voice asking for the help of a librarian if they had a particular book. She had a delicate scent of perfume on her that only made her more attractive.

She had her half up and half down pinned by a bow in the back, her hairstyle and curled subtlety. She had such elegance and class when she walked and turned.

They were heavily entranced, though unlike Reiji, Ruki made the first move being the book expert that he is. He always had more luck than Reiji and today especially he was reading the same book this girl was asking about, it was his chance to talk to her and give it to her.

As she was aimlessly looking for the book to see if there was an extra copy she was too distracted to notice she had bumped into someone.

She put a hand over her lips as she mouthed an apology not expecting to have invaded someone’s space as she was looking.

“Pardon me, I hadn’t noticed you standing by. I am so sorry.” She’d apologize, almost enough to guilt trip a man with her sweet voice.

“No worries, you were looking for (b/n), right?”

“Oh yes, where did you find it?”

“I was reading it, but you can keep it. I’ve read it before, it’s a good book.”

She stared at him surprised, “But this book is so thick how can you manage to read it through again.”

“I’ve read almost everything on this shelf in my spare time, I’m Ruki.” He’d say

She smiled, “Y/n.”

Reiji is so jealous!

This automatically makes Reiji want to get involved and try to impress her next which he does so in chemistry class.

Reiji will be much more charismatic and it is incredibly compelling seeing he hardly uses this part of himself.

So you can imagine he'd catch the beaker she almost dropped swiftly or caught her in his arms.

I mostly see it that she trips and he catches her, causing them to exchange a fair amount of eye contact before thanking him.

If Ruki is in the same class it means he's going to have to do more than just recommending a book because Reiji got to have her in his arms first.

better get moving Ru

So everyday they get a chance to be around her they try to have her attention and try to win her over in some way and it is just a constant battle.

And both of them know it is competition even if they haven't said it.

Reiji would try to talk about it and bring it up at some point because he wants to be firm with Ruki about him wanting this woman and that he will not lose.

whereas, Ruki will act like he doesn't know what he's talking about.

"I see that you are fond of the student, just as I am." Reiji would say, adjusting his glasses.

Ruki would turn to look at him with a smirk, "I don't know what you mean?"

"Although you may play this off in a stoic manner, I know that Y/n is in your thoughts. Tell me, do you care for her as a woman?"

"Y/n, is just a girl, Reiji. Why are you worked up about a human?"

"Well then, if that's your answer what I will do shall not matter."

"Even if you plan on something, she and I have plans. "

“I suggest you back down.”

“I threat doesn’t stop me from pursuing.”

Features (some they may like)

Pretty dark hair

wide hips

glass skin

bratty attitude

pretty laugh

intelligent

Elegant vocabulary

Reiji

If she is part of the chess club, he wants to have chess matches with her. But since Ruki is good at chess he will participate in matches w her.

In fact, they would play against in each other to see who would ask her out.

Literally, winner gets to ask her out.

If it’s just her and Reiji, he'd prefer that she loses so that she'll repeatedly compete against him since she is probably 2nd in line.

He also loves these matches with you because he locks eye contact with you and gets to talk to you as well.

He invites you to walk with him in the school yard to observe nature and fascinates you with knowledge about the flowers or science of things to which you had no idea about

He starts off with this small talk and soon moves on to deeper talks where you both exchange conversation about things which are more personal.

You flash a compelling smile and a laugh escapes your lips at something being discussed and Reiji, deep down finds himself in awe as this is the first time a woman was beautiful laughing without covering her mouth.

It is a delicate display of beauty which most hide which keeps him interested in pursuing you.

While he is stubborn and trying to convince himself he is merely amused, this is not the case as he is defiantly interested romantically.

Reiji, although he won’t deliberately show nor say it. He wants you all to himself, he doesn’t want you to spend your time with other men.

He’d like it if he were the only man you paid attention to the most.

Becomes frustrated if you speak of Ruki in high regard because he feels challenged.

Truly he's giving his all to have you.

And the more he finds that there is no progress the harder he is going to try.

Due to his high interest he finds many ways for you to be alone with you.

He will eventually get comfortable speaking to you, and even go as far as teasing you.

However, once he founds out the situation is completely one sided he is upset.

Reiji tells himself he simply can move on, but truthfully he doesn't want to.

He wants to change your mind.

If he can't he probably would distance himself gradually and slowly stop talking to you.

Ruki

In the library he likes to move the books that you’ve been looking for up high so that he can grab them for you.

He’ll leave foot notes at the bottom for you.

Some questions and messages being suggestive to you as well.

Sometimes she’d write back in them and exchange in the conversation.

Loves to also hand you the book so that your hands touch.

He loves to surprise you at your locker and chat with you to get Reiji jealous since Reiji doesn’t have the talent to just casually speak with you.

Won’t show what he is bothered/jealous when Reiji comes around.

Has invited you over for dinner at his place, which is definitely one up on Reiji. lol

He cooked for you there and got to talk to you for a long time.

Since he knows Nordic languages he'd teach you them.

If you needed help in cooking he'd offer to help you in cooking class to give you tips and to show you how to cut.

Mostly so that his hands are on yours and for him to whisper and say things to your ear.

Would say quotes to you from poems or books to keep you interested or questioning.

Would teach you how to dance and have fun in the middle of it by breaking the rules and dipping you instead.

leaves you messages in your locker about how you looked nice but you don't know they are from him.

Has the upper hand because he was once human and Reiji never was so its easier for him to keep a conversation.

While part of this is amusing to compete against Reiji to win over a woman's heart he is also interested in pursuing you.

Of course in terms of feelings once he comes to terms with himself and understands that you do not feel anything for either he is a little bummed out the game ended but mostly because you weren't interested.

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˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

[luffyvace]

HIHIHIHI TYSM FOR DOING MY REQUEST ^U^ I hope u Don't mind me dropping another one u :'))

Can I have kusuo reaction to Reader-chan being mostly know for her gore/angst/horror series but looks like nothing for a person to write this stuff (she looks absolutely innocent) yet having a (technically an old man) friend who is also anonymous writer for one of kusuo favorite series yet the said look absolutely opposite of it (the reader-chan and her friend are like Junji Ito and hayao miyazaki)

I'm sorry if u couldn't understand the request:')) my English isn't really the best-

HII DARLING! No problem at all! Of course I don’t mind! Request at any time as long as they say open <3

ohhh so she’s a horror writer :> OHHH I was confused at first but as soon as I searched them up and saw the memes I understood 😂💓

This is such a cute and funny topic! Enjoy your hcs anon 💖 ⚠️ Gore mentions⚠️

Kusuo isn’t easily scared.

there are very few things that actually do scare him, considering he can sense everything coming from a mile away

But shows and books are an exception (given he doesn’t stare at the pages to see through the book-)

he’s not normally into horror but your manga is actually very interesting to him!

seeing a bunch of mutilated corpses packed together is quite a gripping sight for him!

and honestly he is obbsessed likes normalcy but your case is a type of unique he doesn’t mind :)

it’s funny since you have this friendly and kind personality and your work is the exact opposite of that 🤗

it’s giving the cute core girlies!! (and guys!! <3) 💓💗💖🌸🌷💞🎀

he still gets the perk of reading the chapter before publish and giving small ideas for stuff

You once put his favorite character from another series in one of the manga panels and he when he noticed it he had a little smile on his face! 💗

he wasn’t excpecting you to do that at all and it was a pleasant surprise ;3

your introduced him to your friend and he also likes his work now!

Y’all are literal polar opposites- and ngl? He enjoys the balance!

like when he wants some exhilarating and goosebump-giving action he’ll pick up one of your mangas’

and when he’s feeling mellow while eating some coffee jelly on his bed his new (second) favorite author to read from is your friend!

His number one author is of course you ♥︎

would recommend his friends (specifically Kaido) one of your mangas to freak them out

they definitely won’t be expecting it seeing as though your such a cheerful person! 🌸🎀🌷

I feel like Torisuka would genuinely enjoy your manga as well!

he doesn’t get scared easily by creepy stuff for obvious reasons 😋

so you’ve got yourself another supporter !!

I have a feeling my girl boss Airua would get creeped out but 1) she wants to support you so she would probably buy and either never read or 2) read it anyway because it’s so interesting

like you captivated people with your work!

just as much as your friend does with more gentler topics

but in a different sense

You make your audience quite literally cover their eyes in fear yet still peak through they’re fingers with anticipation !

like that’s how good it is!

a “I can’t look away” type of thriller!

also you know that really talkative guy with the bob?

yeah he over analyzes your manga once he finds out about it

(which let me tell you- Kusuo tried his hardest to keep him away from it—but much to his luck- he got a hold of it anyway)

thankfully he likes it!

he’s scared- but once again- he just can’t look away :)

he comes to you and gives your extremely detailed compliments and (positive) feedback after each chapter is released and says he can’t wait for more

he also tells his expectations and predictions for the next one and hopes you’ll live up to them

so when your exceed them he’s more than thrilled (GET IT?? Ok..)

he’s practically able to predict every book or manga he reads because he analyzes everything

so when your able to surprise him he’s impressed!

after Kusuo he’s the first one to buy a copy

(cuz yk Kusuo gets those special you-get-the-first-copy-before-it’s-published-because-your-my-boyfriend-privileges)

LOL

the bob guy is low key jealous of him for getting it before it’s even PUBLISHED

tries to bargain you to get that too but it’s strictly reserved for Kuu ♡

okay I looked up bob guy’s name

it’s Akechi Touma (oops)

LOL “bob guy”

enjoy!! Pretty short but I think they’re a delight~

[fangirlings-things]

Being a part of the team would include headcanons

anon said: hello!! can I please request some headcanons where reader is a part of the fast and furious team and maybe even their reaction to finding out brian is a cop? thank you!!

A/N: heyy, love!! thank you for requesting, hope you like this, sorry for the long wait!

THIS IS SET IN THE FIRST MOVIE AND WITH THE ORIGINAL TEAM, WHILE BRIAN WAS WORKING UNDERCOVER

TAG LIST IS OPEN

You met Dom and Letty at a race night downtown

They like the respect you show others, treating them as equals despite whomever they were and of course, they like the way you drive

And so, they tell you to race with them

Although you lost to Dom, you did manage to beat Letty in a race, and she chuckles when you compliment her about her driving and says that you only won because of luck

She even tried to give you her car, as you two had bet, but you tell her to keep it. Your garage was too small for two cars anyway, and in that moment Dom decides he really likes you

He invites you to his house for a beer later on that day with them and some other friends, and you accept

Dom's house was quite welcoming. There were people entering and leaving through the front door and loud music came from the inside, as well as the smell of beers

Once inside, Dom and Letty gave you a Corona and introduced you to their team, their family

Jesse, Leon, Mia and Vince. They were all cool and welcomed you with taps on the shoulder and smiles, followed by laughing and congratulations when they heard you had beaten Letty on a race

After that day, you would often meet in races and enjoy some friendly time together

More and more, you started to get invited to their parties and family meals and when they told you to make the prayers one day before starting to eat, that's when you knew you had been completely and without a doubt accepted.

You were a part of their family now and as you had none ever since you were just a teen, you felt more than happy about having people to love and call yours

One year later, it felt like you had always been there with them, sharing almost every day and meal together. You had developed different relationships with all of them and yet, they all loved you and you loved them

Dom watched over you like a little sibling, always caring for your well being and making sure you were good. He deeply appreciated the time you spent in the garage together, fixing cars and drinking Coronas

Letty loves the fact that you are always up for anything she has in mind. Let's race? Sure, get in. Wanna grab a beer? Yeah, of course. Let's make some popcorn and watch a movie with the others in the living room? Turn on the TV, I'll grab the popcorn. You are very good friends, and that's special to her

Mia likes the fact that even though you run with the team and take part in all their dangerous doings, she has never seen you mistreating people or being violent without extreme necessity. Your heart is good, and she values that

Jesse feels comfortable enough around you to speak a lot about the functioning of the cars he is currently working on. You don't mind him sounding like a know-it-all, like the others sometimes do. He is very smart and gifted, and so you were very interested to know even a bit of what he knew

Leon enjoys your company for practically everything but what he likes the most, is when you and him go to the races together in the same car when you do not intend to run on that night and you keep watch over the police radio together while the others run. He used to do it alone all the time and to have a company for it, comment the races and compliment other people's cars, just makes him feel really good

Vince was a bit distant in the beginning. Not because he didn't like you, but that's just the way he is with strangers. He warmed up little by little to you and finally, after some months where racing and drinking together became a thing to you both, you came to the conclusion that you could finally call him a friend

Things went perfectly, you felt much better than when you lived all alone across the city and on top of that, you were all making really good money with the truck robbery's

And then, Brian came

The first few times you saw him eating those horrible sandwiches, you knew he was there just because of Mia. You teased her a lot about it, and she just rolled her eyes at you

Vince didn't like him at all, and more than once you had stopped him from just going and beating the blond right then and there

When Brian started racing with you and getting invited to the house, you were friendly with him, because that had been you in his place not so long ago

You liked the guy, even though he was most of the time too reckless for his own sake

You became friends too, and he would come to you to ask questions about things he didn't understand or about the others

And you casually tell him over a few beers in the porch, just enjoying the breeze and laughing together

When you found out he was a cop, you felt extremely betrayed

Because you had been the one to tell him a lot of the things he knew about the team and guilt consumed you

Also, he had been tricking Mia, and you loved her like a sister

You couldn't look him in the eye, couldn't believe he had been faking all that time you spent together, racing together

He wasn't your friend, he was just a cop doing undercover work

And that hurt you a great deal not just because he had hurt you

But also, because he had hurt your family