#anyways that should be enough tags that's the most important ones i think.

[oh-meow-swirls]

how does the raft not capsize.

[keelanrosa]

terfs when a study shows literally anything positive about trans people/transitioning: 'hm i think this requires some fact-checking. Were those researchers REALLY unbiased? Because if they were biased this doesn't count and if they weren't knowingly biased they probably were unconsciously biased, woke media affects so much these days. Have there been any other studies on this? Because if there haven't been this could be an outlier and if there have been and they all agree that's a bit odd, why aren't there any outliers, and if there have been and any disagree we really won't know the truth until we very thoroughly analyze them all, will we? Were there enough subjects for a good sample size? Did every single subject involved stay involved through the whole study because if they didn't we should be sure nothing shady was going on resulting in people dropping out. Are we 110% sure all the subjects were fully honest and at no point were embarrassed or afraid to admit they didn't love transitioning to the people in charge of their transition? Are we 110% sure none of the subjects were manipulated into thinking they were happy with their transition? In fact we should double-check what they think with their parents, because if the subjects and their parents disagree it's probably because they've been manipulated but their cis parents have not and are very unbiased. How many autistic subjects were there because if there weren't enough then this doesn't really study the overlap between autistic and trans and if there were too many then we just don't know enough about what causes that overlap to be sure this study really explains being trans and isn't just about being autistic. How many AFAB subjects were there because if there weren't enough this is just another example of prioritizing AMAB people and ignoring the different struggles of girls and women and if there were too many how do we know sexism didn't affect the results. Was the study double-blinded? We all know double-blinded is the most reliable so if this one wasn't that's a point against it even if the thesis literally physically could not be double-blinded. Look i'm not being transphobic, i want what's best for trans people! Really! But as a person who is not trans and therefore objective in a way they cannot possibly be, i just think we should only take into account Good Science here. You want to be following science and not being manipulated or experimented upon by something unscientific, right?'

terfs when they see a study of 45 subjects so old it predates modern criteria for gender dysphoria and basically uses 'idk her parents think she's too butch', run by a guy who practiced conversion therapy, 'confirmed' by a guy who treated the significant portion of subjects who didn't follow up as all desisting, definitely in the category of 'physically cannot double-blind this', completely contradicted by multiple other studies done on actual transgender subjects, but can be kinda cited as evidence against transitioning if you ignore everything else about it: 'oOOH SEE THIS IS WHAT WE'RE TALKIN BOUT. SCIENCE. Just good ol' unbiased thorough analysis. I see absolutely no reason to dig any deeper on this and if you think it's wrong you're the one being unscientific. It's really a shame you've been so thoroughly brainwashed by the trans agenda and can't even accept science when you see it. Maybe now that someone has finally uncovered this long-lost study from 1985, we can make some actual progress on the whole trans problem.'

[ranboo5]

Anyway [stretches] under a cut because it got Long as usual; tl;dr at the bottom

The thing abt c!Ranboo is his motivation and his actions don’t always align and that is bc of the eternal nature of c!Ranboo as living in a society and Balancing Priorities. He is always self-compromising in its relationships w/ others; more often than not when it agrees to do smth with someone it is doing it not bc it believes in the cause but because it has priorities it needs to mitigate. (Ranboo has not believed in any of the causes put forth by Someone Else in their life the closest they get is the Syndicate and even there it’s only reassured to bc it is reassured it can share opinions)

This starts off wayyyy early with it agreeing to help grief despite not really having a personal reason to do it, and with it collaborating w/ New L’Manberg even through things like the Butcher Army. It consistently does not want to be seen as In Opposition. It works with Tmmy and Techno in large part bc it doesn’t want to come off as opposed 2 them, and bc it has personal investment (+guilt) in Tmmy. Ranboo will literally act like this

- as self preservation - out of a desire to help+spare the feelings of ppl it doesn’t trust to negotiate with - especially later, so it can try to mitigate the parties it’s collaborating w/ -- if he’s involved in the effort, he has more traction 2 attempt to mitigate anything terrible it might do (even when most of the time he doesn’t manage to do this)

This is part of why he initially joined th Syndicate and this is why he worked with Wilbur over th course of the burger arc. Some combination of this is also why he works w/ Dream, smth that is frequently overlooked in Ranboo Analysis; Ranboo volitionally[1] collaborates w/ Dream despite, obviously, having a lot of Active Dislike for Dream and what he is doing, out of a combination of a) he would not want 2 frame himself as Opposed To Dream in any interaction w/ Dream, b) he is generally sympathetic and pitying, c) ideological agreement w/ some aspects of Dream’s goals, and d) desire to mitigate/stay close to Dream. Ranboo keeps his friends close and enemies closer 2 some degree

His relationship w/ Tbbo is not an exception to this it is part of the pattern. It’s just one that has much more present, personal, and consistent stakes. Ranboo complies w/ Tbbo the same way he complies w/ the Syndicate when he’s worried they’re threatening, the same way he complies w/ NLM, the same way he complies w/ Wilbur in the burger arc, th same way he complies with Tmmy early on, the same way he complies w/ Dream offscreen. This is a Known Tactic Ranboo pursues; their project is ultimately of survival and compassion and survival and compassion are both things they have to sacrifice to keep

Tbbo is a unique priority to Ranboo almost in the same way all of the aforementioned r slightly different, unique priorities; in Tubbo’s case, Ranboo is extremely invested in keeping Tbbo safe from others and from Tbbo’s own self with a particular fervor for a very long time. I’m not rehashing the entire beeduo meta here but Ranboo does have particular interest and a particular prioritization for Tbbo for a long ass time; arguably post-NLM and thru burger arc, Tbbo is its first priority bc Ranboo loves him and has convinced itself it’s the only one who can fix him and has also mostly-correctly observed that no one has really been looking out for him. Tubbo is an urgent target in Ranboo’s projects of compassion and of survival both

When those stakes r released, tho, in the burger van conversation (the “you weren’t happy before?”) Ranboo no longer has Tbbo at the same priority level irt the project of survival especially, and, despite how guilty and upset it makes them, prioritizes their 5D chess game with Wilbur instead (ironically sacrificing a solid chunk of its project of survival). Its motives @ the end of Ho16 r commonly cited as being abt Tbbo but that’s not entirely what he says and if it was Ranboo HAS the kind of analytical presence of mind to know that it Killing Himself doesn’t help Tbbo as much as it deals with Wilbur

Ho16 is abt Ranboo winning aforesaid 5D chess game; Tbbo is only part of the stakes 4 that and Mitigating Tbbo is no longer Ranboo’s top priority w/ that. Ranboo’s final monologue is more than anything reminiscent of his earlier arguments about sides and collateral. It’s part of the larger project of compassion, and it’s about the distorted version thereof tht comes with Ranboo getting stuck in its head and its machinations, too; like Tbbo is important to Ranboo and the carelessness abt Tbbo is something unacceptable but to claim Ranboo’s motivations revolve around Tubbo specifically is reductive of his other relationships and actual larger ideological motivations 

I have a problem w/ framings of this as positive/romantic devotion that amkes Ranboo better or as devotion at all bc repeatedly it is shown it makes him Worse, and is in fact the opposite of devotion it's disingenuous by nature. Ranboo is lying. This is so essential to all of this when Ranboo acts like he is in step with you specifically he is lying you are never guaranteed to be the priority. This is him at his worst, th project of compassion at its most compromised, and it’s a state that they explicitly don’t like. Ranboo does not like compromising itself and when they do that they Get Hurt (NLM and outpost arc having the most confabulation we’ve seen in Ranboo in general, Ranboo hating himself for this, Ranboo complying w/ shit like the experiments, Ranboo in all these environments where he is playing this being Constantly Markedly Afraid)

Even throughout the time period where Tbbo is technically priority #1 Tbbo is still . Priority Number One as opposed to like a genuine devotion. Tbbo having a handle on Ranboo in this way is not devotion it is fear and it is again not a mechanism tht Ranboo Only engages for Tbbo it’s just a mechanism, that again IS BAD FOR RANBOO BOTH IRT MENTAL HEALTH AND MORALITY, that has thru circumstance become one tht Tbbo is best at unintentionally activating. Ranboo Does This When You Are His Project. And When He Had A New Project Aside From His Husband That’s What He Did To Him

TL;DR

Ranboo does comply with Tubbo in various activities tht he doesn’t believe in but this isn’t ? Unique to Tbbo this is just Ranboo’s general socialmeta+ what allows it to move in the world the way it does

Ranboo cares about Tubbo deeply and this is relevant to his motivations but that’s only one part of his larger motivations

It’s also honestly not great to frame this complianceas romantic or good bc it’s actively smth that Makes Them Worse in multiple senses

It takes out a ton of Ranboo’s decision making and the negative effects thereof

Anyway stream

[1] No, one dumb as fuck line from Dream Of All People in that lame ass excuse for a finale does not negate All The Things In CRanboo’s Story including working w Dream being part of this consistent pattern, Ranboo’s story being abt agency responsibility and decision in such a way tht it is completely undercut by mind ctrl plots, Ranboo’s ideological agreement w Dream on some matters, the alliumduo parallels, and everything we do know abt the enderwalk as a concept and Ranboo how he acts in and out of it

[neverendingford]

.

[awearywritersworld]

"took you long enough"

gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist

gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.

"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.

"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."

it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.

he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."

"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"

"boyfriend?"

"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"

your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."

"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."

he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."

"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"

"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.

you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."

after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.

he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.

when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.

wait, what?

your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.

"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"

"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.

"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."

gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—

"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."

nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.

the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.

everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.

shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'

shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'

shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'

nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."

shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.

"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"

nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.

you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—

"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"

"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.

and it is, just not to you.

shinya chuckles. "gojo."

"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."

"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"

turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.

"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.

"whatever you say, baby."

you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.

but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.

when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.

it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.

"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."

"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."

gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.

shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.

"get the fuck away from her!"

gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.

"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"

you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."

the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."

you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.

"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.

you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"

"i don't fucking care," he spits.

he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"

"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.

you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.

"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."

once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.

"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"

he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."

"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.

"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."

your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"

you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.

"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."

"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."

"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.

and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.

he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.

he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.

"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.

"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.

"mm, knew you were a good girl."

he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.

"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.

you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."

he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.

you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.

"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.

his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.

you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."

that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.

"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.

his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.

he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—

"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"

your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue

"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."

he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.

splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."

he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."

your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."

he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.

"p-people are gonna see—"

"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."

you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.

he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.

"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."

your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."

you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."

your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."

"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"

you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.

"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.

you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."

you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.

your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"

he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.

no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.

you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.

you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.

"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.

"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"

"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."

you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"

"i just didn't know if you... you know.."

"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.

you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."

"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"

you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."

[romaritimeharbor]

FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.

— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.

— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).

— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶

kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.

she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.

(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)

KAFKA

My coat got stained again :(

Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?

[ 1:22 PM ]

KAFKA

I saw a new movie today.

It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.

Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?

Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...

That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.

Sleep well, darling.

[ 11:34 PM ]

she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.

and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.

she does chide them, however.

"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."

if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.

she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.

however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.

they know kafka would not use it to harm them.

kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.

and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.

blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.

some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.

this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.

he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.

the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.

one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.

out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.

(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)

blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.

should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"

(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)

unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.

it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.

something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.

death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.

silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.

she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.

however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!

she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.

what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????

unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.

...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].

she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.

(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)

silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.

overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3

please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!

[nadvs]

thinking of how you probably got pregnant after rafes first championship and sooo many people are like “she saw how much he made and now she’s trapping him”

THE PAIN 😭

based on this fic

the tabloids and social media are vicious about it. while his athleticism is mainly what garners him a lot of popularity and fame, he’s also well-known simply for being so good-looking and having a “bad boy” persona to the point where girls on the internet are making jokes like “i suddenly care about basketball” so a lot of people do not like her simply because she’s with him.

rafe already has photos of her on his socials when he signs with the nba so people know he has a girlfriend. she’s tagged in them, so she starts to gets random hate comments on her socials and she makes all of the private.

when she gets pregnant, he doesn’t post it anywhere to keep things private and to avoid stress. but then one day, he’s at practice and he gets a call from her. he’s freaked out right away because she knows his training is important and she never disrupts him during it.

she tells him she was being followed by paparazzi and they’re asking if she’s pregnant and if it it’s his and if it was on purpose. he’s livid because at this point, she’s far enough along to be showing and he’s so angry at the thought of anyone stressing her out or bothering her, especially in her state. the next day, he hires personal security guards for her.

the photos come out of her with her obvious baby bump and the comments are ruthless about how she must have planned it right after he won the finals and is a gold digger. he never gives a shit what the public thinks about him or their relationship, but he gets fed up and one day, he decides he wants to post an old photo of them from their college days.

rafe is not a man of many words, at least not publicly because he doesn’t feel like he owes anyone any information, but he’s fuming.

he tries not to be impulsive about it, so he shows her what he wants to post and she blames the pregnancy hormones for tearing up when she reads it (but she knows she’d cry anyway).

the caption he wrote is: Can’t believe I have to post this, but I guess that’s where we’re at now. This is a photo of me and my girlfriend from over four years ago, before I got drafted, when I was playing college ball with no idea where my career would go. I’m a lucky man because I’m still with her and we’re expecting. She should be relaxing right now, but there are idiots hounding her and calling her things that aren’t worth repeating. You have to be lower than low to be stressing out a pregnant woman and assuming you know anything about her. She has been with me since the beginning and is the most loyal and most real person I’ve ever known. Say whatever you want about me but leave my family out of it.

she lowers his phone, a small smile on her face as she sniffles.

“maybe you should check with your publicist,” she says, touched but afraid of how it might affect his career.

“i don’t give a shit about that,” rafe tells her. “do you like it?”

she gives him her blessing to post it. she never thought that with his fame would come him having to defend her, but she loves him even more for how protective he is.

[notjustjavierpena]

Public

Main Masterpost | Series Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Written for @janaispunk ‘s 1500 kisses challenge where I had to incorporate a cheek kiss and a French kiss. This was so fun to do and made me able to do a very requested scenario! I’m pleased Jana allowed me to use hubby (even if he isn't hubby yet here)🥰 and it turned a lot more smutty than intended (not that i’m sorry)

Summary: You play the perfect part at Javier’s office party.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, established relationship, they’re so in love, domestic, banter, lots of kisses, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibitionism, clit stim, fingering

Word Count: 3.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56618974

Public

Work parties in your office are always a dreadful thing; ugly and over-the-top decorations on the walls, tedious conversation with people higher up than you, and terrible music that seems to be played by the worst DJ in history. That’s why you giggle, a hand covering your mouth, the first time Javier mentions that he has to go to one of these schmoozing events at the police station. Police station and party are words that do not belong together. 

Javier raises a brow as you continue giggling about it, “What’s so funny about that? You don’t want to go?”

“God, no!” You shake slightly from the laughter, reaching down to cup your mug of coffee with both hands again so it doesn’t spill. Javier looks slightly hurt by your reluctance, so you force yourself to stop snickering and tilt your head with a genuine smile, “Hey, of course, I want to go with you. For moral support at the very least. It’s just… I know exactly what you’re in for and that’s very funny.”

“Don’t remind me. I’ve endured enough so far,” Javier groans. He reaches up to run a hand over his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose like he has a headache already. 

“You haven’t endured one with me though. I’m great,” you grin cheekily over the top of your mug, taking a sip when you earn a little smile. It’s the first party he’s going to after you started dating and it seems like a milestone in your relationship; there’s something about showing you off to the people he spends time with every day and thus involving you in his work life. It’s getting more and more serious each day. 

“You’re right about that,” he replies and you know that he is thinking the same thing. He crosses the room where you are standing against the kitchen counter in his apartment, looking so much like someone he wants to marry one day. Gently, he takes the mug from your hands and places it on the counter, only to lean in and not quite kiss you yet. He talks with his lips hovering just above yours, “If you’re so good at them… Any survival tips?”

You scrunch up your nose to look like someone having a think, constantly on the brink of a snicker when he traps you between his arms by placing his palms on the table behind you. You hum and then light up, “Oh, I’ve got plenty but the most important one is to plan an exit strategy - seriously, Javi, weren’t you in Colombia? You should know this - anyway, we need to secure a safe escape route and come up with a plausible reason to leave early. Involve me, if you like.”

Javier’s eyes soften as he looks at you. He can barely believe how fantastic you are, “¡Dios mío (My God)! And here I thought you were going to say something like ‘grin and bear it’ but you’re a woman with an evil plan.”

“Right? You think you know someone…” you lean in for a kiss that he teasingly avoids. His breath ghosts across your face and you pout from how much you want to put your lips to his and how much he doesn’t let you, “Javi.”

“I know, baby,” he tuts and bumps your noses together, “But we need an excuse for the party. Any ideas from the mastermind herself?” 

You place your forearms on his shoulders and decide to tease him right back, “Oh, I don’t know. We could just sneak out the back when no one’s looking. You could make an arrest against the back of the building.”

Javier makes a noise in the back of his throat. He tries to hold himself back, only just succeeding, “We could do that, yeah, definitely, but I think I’ll stick around a bit longer if you’re there to make it bearable.” 

“Okay okay,” you stop your teasing, “How about we stay for an hour tops, mingle to make you seem like the best colleague in the world, I’ll charm your boss’ pants off…”

“And then I’ll say we have an urgent… situation that we need to attend to,” he suggests. 

“And what would that situation be?” You smirk. 

Javier’s voice drops to a suggestive tone, “Hmm, I dunno. A personal situation that requires my full attention and… immediate care.”

You link your fingers on the back of his neck, teasing his hair there with your fingertips, “Funny. I think one of those situations might just be happening right now too.”

With that, he cannot go on any longer. He pulls you in and behind you, your coffee grows cold. 

—

The police station looks ridiculous while Javier looks nervous. It’s a contrast you want to gawk at because as far as you know, nothing seems to rattle the previous DEA agent turned sheriff of Laredo. However, social interaction in the workplace appears to be his kryptonite and with his donut-eating and domesticated lifestyle colleagues, he seems very much out of his element compared to who he tells stories about from Colombia.

“You know, you have to point out the guy I have to schmooze with. We need a signal,” you whisper close to his ear as you enter the bullpen and a few heads turn. Your hand is in his and when you squeeze it, he seems to relax a little more in his step. Your eyes scan the room for faces that might match the names you’ve heard in passing conversations. Most of them stare back with a subtle look of respect and admiration, eyeing you at first and then nodding at each other in approval. You should feel on the spot but you can barely concentrate as Javier lets go of your hand to rest his palm against the small of your back now that his confidence is slowly coming back.

“No need, he’s coming towards us right now,” he says quietly and smiles in his boss’ direction. 

“Tell me his name,” you say with a little smile of your own, “Quickly.”

“Uhh, that’s Commissioner Martin Lopez,” he manages before he receives a slap on the back from the man approaching you. 

“Peña! Glad to see you joining the festivities. Always good for moral support,” Lopez greets and gestures to the room of deputies. He is a large, square-shouldered man with a booming voice and a mustache even more impressive than your boyfriend’s. He looks like someone who laughs from his belly and you’re surprised that Javier is still standing upright after his large hand has clapped his shoulder. 

Javier is just about to introduce you but then you hold your hand out and interrupt, “Commissioner Lopez. You’re a frequent name in our conversations; Javier admires you a whole lot.”

“You should hear how much he talks about you around here, ma’am. I’ve been hearing about you all night because everyone’s itching to meet you,” Lopez replies with a huge smile. He shakes your hand which disappears inside of his huge one. 

You look briefly at Javier with a raised brow. On your back, he rubs up and down as a hidden ‘thank you’ while sporting an embarrassed smile. 

“Said too much?” Lopez questions teasingly. 

“Not at all but really? Ma’am? You’re making me sound so old, Martin,” you charm and give him a playful roll of your eyes. 

His eyes light up as you match his energy and he lets out a hearty laugh, “Apologies, miss. ‘Fraid it’s a bit of a habit. Should we expect to hear Mrs. soon?”

“Sir,” Javier tries to interrupt, horrified by the bluntness. 

“My God,” you theatrically clutch at your chest and turn to your boyfriend again, “Sheriff Peña, how much do you babble on about me here?”

Lopez holds up both his hands, seeming to love your display, “Now now, we need to let him keep some sort of authority here. Can’t be too hard on him in front of the others, so you best be off mingling. I still have a few rounds to make to make sure everyone’s enjoying themselves.”

“It’s good to see you, sir,” Javier says and earns a squeeze on his shoulder. 

“Glad to see you finally brought her,” Lopez looks in your direction and you share a smile. He turns to leave afterward, heading in the direction of a larger crowd and as he greets them, you hear his voice echo through the room. 

You turn to Javier, linking your arms around his neck and smiling at him with tenderness in your eyes, “You have nothing to worry about here. They all love you.”

“Suppose it’s nicer than some of the shit I got in Colombia,” he murmurs, staring over your shoulder as the crowd discreetly watches you embrace. He rests his hands on your hips, smoothing them around your waist until they entwine on the small of your back. You want a kiss and he pecks your lips when you make an impatient sound. 

“Much nicer,” you eventually say, twisting around to lean against his chest. Your gaze goes over the crowded room, a few smiles meeting yours, “They look at you like you’re the sun or something.”

“And you are doing fucking great, by the way,” he squeezes you in his arms, “Making friends faster than I ever did.”

You tilt your head to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, “What can I say? I’m a natural, Sheriff Peña.”

“And modest too,” he shakes his head with a fond expression. Then he leans in to kiss your cheek from behind with a tenderness that tells you how much he appreciates you being here with him, going public in front of his colleagues for the first time. It’s not a quick peck but rather a lingering, heartfelt kiss that makes your heart sing for more of his affection. You feel the warmth of his lips against your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

The room fades for the moment it goes on and when you come to your senses again, when your heartbeat has slowed down enough to notice your surroundings again, you realize the intimacy of the moment and feel the heat in your cheeks. However, you don’t let yourself feel anything negative towards it when you also come to the point that Javier Peña is not embarrassed to be affectionate with you in front of others. 

“That was nice,” you whisper as you still look up at him, feeling your cheeks hurt slightly from how much you are smiling.

He says nothing but instead just adds a quick peck to your hair. There’s no way he’ll describe this party as anything close to unbearable now. 

The night goes on after Javier reluctantly releases you from his arms. You circle the room together, all smiles and laughter, but sometimes you even separate and it doesn’t feel as frightening as you thought it would. Joke aside, maybe you are a natural. 

You end up in a group of female deputies. Julia, a woman with an impressive winged eyeliner, asks you how on Earth you caught yourself such a man and managed to hold him down. You reply with an embarrassed laugh, fidget with your dress strings on the front, and look in your boyfriend’s direction as you receive yet another compliment on him. Much to your delight, you catch a glimpse of Javier seeming to relax and enjoy himself. It makes you return to the conversation with newfound joy. 

“Honestly, he’s the one who caught me,” you say with a grin, earning a round of knowing giggles from the group, “I mean… He’s pretty hard to resist.”

“Well, the two of you make a great couple,” Julia says while the rest nods and hums. You reach up to cup your burning face, the ache in your face really hitting you.

“Not giving you a hard time, are they?” Javier interrupts and slides an arm around your waist. He catches your eye and gives you a quick, reassuring smile that makes your heart flutter.

“Just the opposite, Peña,” Julie jokes with a wink. “We’re giving her the lowdown on you.”

Javier groans playfully, “Shit, I’m doomed.”

“Better find out now than later, so I know what I’m in for,” you laugh genuinely, leaning into his side and feeling his arm tighten around you. 

“How are you feeling? Tired?” Javier checks in. 

“A little,” you falsely admit. This seems to be Javier setting the exit strategy in motion, so you go with it. 

“Do you wanna head home?” He continues, rubbing your side affectionately, “We could go back to my place.”

You hear the women make an “ooh”-sound. You nod while chewing on your bottom lip, “Yes, please.”

It doesn’t take long to say your farewells and even less time to exit the building and walk towards your car further down the street. It’s nice and cool outside, stars above you blinking occasionally. You like feeling him so close without him touching you as you walk, noticing quickly that he keeps gazing at you. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look back over your shoulder as you approach the car. 

Javier is just about to reach for the keys in his pocket when he pauses. He waits a moment before striking, “It’s nothing. I just couldn’t believe how sexy you were playing the good little wife.”

You whirl around with your breath caught in your throat, your heartbeat quickening in your chest at those words. His eyes burn on your skin, an intensity in them that you can’t ever resist. You decide to say something back, “Yeah? You like me as your wife, huh? Cooking in the kitchen and cleaning the floor on my knees?”

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Javier says, his voice having dropped an octave. He steps forward and maneuvers you before you can protest until he has you firmly against the side of the car. The cool metal is nice against your electrified skin, creaking slightly as he pushes you further into the vehicle when his lips crash against yours. 

You instinctively reach up to cup his face, mouth falling open in a moan as he settles a knee between your legs. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, and as you respond by allowing him to practically eat from your mouth you find that he is tasting like himself so thoroughly that you can’t get close enough. 

Your hands slide up into his hair, tugging slightly as you continue kissing him so messily. He makes a noise, pushing his pelvis into yours to make you whine for him. 

“Not here,” you say without pulling back, knowing there’s no way you are stopping this. Between another string of lingering kisses, you try to protest some more, “We’re on a public road.”

“I know,” he seems to be under the same spell, velvety tongue against yours, “Spread your legs.”

“Javi,” you scold mid-kiss.

“I’m gonna put my hand underneath that dress and make you come because you deserve it,” he tells you with the kind of tone that lets you know he has already made up his mind, “And then I’ll take you home, and show you how much I appreciate you.”

Javier’s hand lays flat against your thigh, going upwards until it teases the hem of your dress. Despite the protest you have just voiced, you find yourself spreading your legs the second he slips his fingers underneath it. You don’t make it too obvious for others if they were to walk by, only just giving him the access he demands while your heartbeat takes over your whole body and your panties start to soak, “Fuck, okay. Okay.”

“Good girl,” he whispers against your lips and catches your mouth in another fervent kiss. You lay your arms on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he makes your knees weak. He places his hand flat against your stomach and then slides it down into your panties, never once ending the kisses he is giving you. 

The second his fingers press against your slit, you breathe in sharply through your nose and moan his name softly with the result of breaking the kiss. He chuckles a little, says you’re unbelievable under his breath and goes to work on you. He doesn’t slip his fingers inside of you just yet, just strokes your cunt the way he knows you like. 

You mewl. Your eyes flutter closed, eyebrows scrunching up as you concentrate on the pleasure he is giving to you. He seems conflicted by wanting to stare at you while he touches you but then decides against it and leans in to let his lips find yours again, capturing them in another kiss that makes you dizzy even in the fresh night air. 

His fingers slide through your slick folds, two fingers finding your pulsing clit to go back and forth over it until something starts building below your belly button. You gush a little when he collects more wetness, dripping obscenely into his palm. 

“Estás tan mojada para mí (you’re so wet for me),” he praises in a whisper during the few seconds he pulls out of the kiss to get a proper mouthful of air. You grab the back of his neck and pull him back to your mouth, panting softly into him whilst nodding. 

“I know… Please,” you say breathlessly as his fingers work their magic. 

“What do you need, mi amor (my love)?” He asks against your mouth, knowing better than to break apart again. 

“More, please,” you clutch at him, the hand that’s not at the top of his spine digging its fingers into his shoulder, “Inside, baby.”

Finally, he slides his middle- and ring finger into your awaiting heat. Pretty little wife, wasn’t that what he’d called you? You clench around his digits at the idea that it will mean that he’ll make you come with his wedding ring on his finger one day. 

“What happened there?” He asks in awe, referring to the way you just choked his fingers. He curls them inside you, repeatedly hitting that perfect spot that makes you see stars. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, unable to keep kissing him, and look to the sky, “Nothing, just thinking of you as mi esposo guapo (my handsome husband).”

Javier pushes his hips forward to let you feel his hard cock against your thigh, “Watch it or I’ll fuck you right here on the street. What a mess that’ll be.” 

Those words spike your arousal. Mixed with the way he fucks you open on his fingers, your peak nears faster than normal. You partly blame it on the danger of the situation too; the excitement of maybe getting caught even if the streets are pretty much deserted at this point. 

“You like that idea, huh? That what makes my baby come?” He asks with a hint of a condescending tone. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in tight circles while he drives you wild with his fingers in your twitching cunt. 

You shake your head but your pussy clenches again, betraying you. His snicker is dark and he speeds up his hand’s thrusts, “Then you better keep quiet for me. I don’t think you can though, can you, baby? Fuck, you are gorgeous and good for me.” 

Teetering on the edge of release, you curse yourself as you moan despite your best efforts to keep your lips zipped tightly in public. Javier’s eyes flicker with mischief and self-satisfaction and his free hand comes up to cover your mouth. He holds your gaze intensely, “That’s right. You’re so loud for me, baby. Can’t help yourself when I make you come.”

You start to tremble. He smirks, “Come for me. Right here, right now.”

With a final thrust of his fingers, you come undone, your body shuddering against him as waves of ecstasy crash over you. He catches each of your cries in the palm of his hand, successfully muffling them so no one will look out their windows to see what the racket is about. But then again, is the sheriff going to arrest himself for indecent exposure? 

When you come down, he has you mewling feebly as his fingers are still inside you, now moving gently to tease out a few aftershocks. He smiles softly at you, eyes locked onto your tired ones, and removes his hand from your mouth when you’ve calmed completely. 

“Jesus,” you chuckle and inhale sharply as he withdraws his hand from your ruined underwear. He admires the shine on his fingers underneath the moonlight, watching the way the slick coats his fingers in pearly white. You feel beyond flustered as he cleans them with his mouth, keeping his eyes fixed on yours in a hungry and obscene display. 

“You taste so good,” he licks between two fingers and reminds you of how his tongue also makes you come like no one else ever has. 

You smile lazily and lean against the car, still trying desperately to catch your breath whilst your legs shake beneath you. When you try to straighten your clothes, he bats your hand away and helps you with a gentleness that makes your heart ache for this intimacy to be forever. 

“Your place?” You ask as he straightens out a fold on your hip. The night screams for more of this, more of his hand touching you. 

“Yeah, get in the car,” he replies and unlocks the vehicle for you, “Let’s go home.”

.

.

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[russellsppttemplates]

I want this every day (Charles Leclerc)

Charles has been frustrated with the team's strategies and the results he's been getting lately so you find a way to cheer him up

Note: english is not my first language. I was going to write it earlier on the week, but then I felt like I a jinxing it so I stopped... but after today, I think it's a good place to start...

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions Jules Bianchi

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Another race weekend where he was out qualified by his team-mate left Charles with the feeling that if it came to it, he was almost one hundred percent sure they would ask them to swap positions.

Points for the team would be important anyway and they came away with a good amount and the car showed to be competitive enough considering the RedBull dominance on the grid, but the frustration was still there.

With the team and with himself.

They told him they'd keep him - there wasn't a quesion put down about his contract -, Il Predestinato wasn't something he carried lightly but often times it was confusing. Without the support and appreciation from inside the team, it was proving difficult to achieve their goals.

His childhood dream was driving for Ferrari and Suzuka always carried a heavier weight for him. As he took off his helmet and was faced with the number 17 on the side, he apoligised. To Jules, who he wanted to make proud every day but even more on this particular track. To his fans, who deserved better than this. To you, who were there for him, arms open for a hug and a shoulder where he could cry and let his feelings out on, to hold him and remind him every single time that all of the nonsense commentators and the media still had the audacity to say about him despite his continous shows of intelligence, skill and talent, and to love him.

The way you loved him was something he had never felt before and had never thought he deserved.

The face you were giving everyone in the garage that dared look at you wasn't unfortunately a rare occurrence, hence the fact that so very few team members approached you, "Charles is just finishing his interviews, he should be here soon", Silvia said before excusing herself from the garage.

You walked to your boyfriend's driver room, knowing he would end up in there soon enough after greeting the mechanics and engineers.

He stepped inside the room less than fifteen minutes later, finding your embrace immediately as his arms wrapped around your waist, "it's not fair that this keeps happening", he mumbled.

"I know it isn't", you kissed his stubbly cheek while rubbing his back soothingly.

"I thought I could've done so much better, for the fans, for you, for Jules", he hiccuped, letting himself be vulnerable after bottling up everything he was feeling.

"You did us proud, Charles - he is always so proud of you", you cupped hisface in your hands as you hoped the words got through to him, "okay?".

The flight back home had Charles sleeping most of the time, the whole rush of the weekend catching up with his body as he slept with his head on your thighs, your fingers playing with his locks while you arranged your schedule for the week ahead.

"I was thinking we could spend some time together today", you said over the phone, hoping he hadn't booked anything since you made sure that Andrea and Joris had cleared his schedule so you could make this happen without a hitch.

"You don't have work?", Charles asked, "no, I arranged a few things and a meeting got cancelled", you explained.

"Good, I don't have anything to do either, I was just going to stay home, but being with you sounds much nicer, my place or your place?", he wondered.

"My place, please", you replied immediately, "I just want to change my clothes and I'm feeling like spending the afternoon in", you tried, hoping he would catch on and not mess up your surprise.

"Okay, amour! Do you need me to pick you up from work?", Charles asked and you heard a small smile on his face. You weren't sure why, but Charles really got a kick out of dropping you off and picking you up from work, so you felt bad for the answer you were giving him, "it's okay, you can meet me there, I'm already walking", you said as you drove out of the shop and headed home. It was an inoffensive lie but you kept telling yourself it was for a greater good.

"Okay, I'll meet you there in twenty minutes or so", he said, "Je t'aime, mon amour".

Riccardo seemed to have parked the car at the front of your building, making you get the bag out of your car trunk and join him and his family, "hey guys! Thank you for coming to this", you smiled, touching Chiara's foot softly and getting a giggle out of the little girl.

"No worries, this is such a nice idea and we're happy to help!", Marta said, letting you walk up to the door so you could get to your apartment.

"For the first time in my life, I'm the first one somewhere, and then they showed up too!", Joris said as the rest of the group you invited stood up from the hallway floor.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, but I had to pick these up and then the call with Charles had to be done at the precise time so he wouldn't get here before I did!", you explained, unlocking the door and letting them in.

"So we're fine to wait, but Charles can't wait for you?", Joris teased, making kissing noises as you shook your head, "privileges of being my boyfriend - it is what it is!", you chuckled.

Delegating the small tasks you left for the last minute, Charles' text saying he had just parked the car was enough to capture you attention, "quick quick, go hide in the living room - careful with the board game boxes! He's coming up!", you ushered your friends to the living room before your boyfriend knocked on your door.

"Hello, my love", you said, kissing his lips and pulling him inside the supposedly quiet apartment.

"Hey, gorgeous girl - I missed you", he squeezed you tight once you closed the door, "I was getting in my he - what's that?", Charles asked as a noise came from the living room.

Chiara squealed loudly enough for him to hear, so in part your surprise was not such a surprise, "you're not alone?", he mused.

Lacing your hand in his, you pulled him to the living room as everyone jumped out of their places to greet him!

"Surprise - ish!", you waved your hands as if you were announcing some great show, "I gathered all your favourite people - Lorenzo is coming with Charlotte in a bit, he just picked her up from work and your mother also had a cliente so she'll arrive a little later. Arthur is in the bathroom?", you wondered as you saw him walk out and pat his brother's back, not missing the truly surprised look on his face as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, "you're the best, amour, thank you", he whispered.

You had food laid out in the coffee table and drinks in the kitchen where everybody could serve themselves so you could have your dining table available for the board and card games you were playing along with some building blocks for Chiara who was immediately stolen from her parents once your boyfriend saw her.

"Do we want to make a castle? Or maybe a rollercoaster?", Charles mused with the little girl sitting on his lap, still keeping an eye on his Monopoly game to make sure no one was missing any of the payments on his properties, "Good job, chérie!", he congratulated her, kissing her chubby cheek.

"Do you want me to get you guys anything? I'm already going to the kitchen", you wondered, "can you fill this up for us, please?", Marta asked as she handed you the orange juice jug, "yes, of course!", you grabbed it.

"This was a great idea, Y/N", Lorenzo said whole he poured himself a drink as you stepped into the kitchen, "he's been in his head a lot recently", he began.

"It's not much, really, it was quite easy to put everything together and you being here was very kind", you brushed it off.

"Y/N, gathering his favourite people to do something he loves apart from racing may seem simple but it's what he needs right now - don't underestimate yourself or the ability you have to bring him back to a good mental space", he rubbed your shoulder before going back to open the door, "it's our mother", he excused himself.

You set the jug on the table and took Chiara from your boyfriend's arms, volunteering to change her nappy in your bedroom.

Charles hugged his mother tight, "Hello, mon petit", she cupped his face and kissed his cheek, "I'm not little anymore", Charles blushed, "you and your brothers will always be my little boys, I don't care how old or how tall you get", she smiled, greeting everyone else in the room.

His favourite people were all in the same place, Charles thought. Some were playing cards, some were just chatting and you just picked his friends' daughter to change her nappy like she was your own.

"Do you have room for one more? I'm usually pretty good at this!", Lorenzo said as he sat at the dining table, "you take my game - it's not too bad, just make sure Marta pays up what she owes me - two hotels in my blue cards", Charles raised his eyebrows, "I know you were counting on your daughter's cuteness to distract me, but I have excellent vision", he smirked.

Charles walked to your bedroom, seeing you close the diaper bag as Chiara kicked the air, layed on top of your comforter and giggling at the story you were telling her, "and then I had to tell the lady 'that won't do, because I have my boyfriend's family and our friends over for dinner and I can't have too little food! Even if I have left overs for weeks!' because that's what's right, right? She also had this very fluffy bread that was still warm from the oven so I asked her if she could add that because I knew you'd like it - bread is the best, isn't it, cutie?", you spoke.

You were it, he had known that for a long time.

You were the one he wanted to grow old with and go through every challenge life wanted to throw at you, because he knew you both could face them if you were there.

"And who is that spying on us, hm? It's Charles! Let's go and give Charles a big hug and many kisses!", you smiled, picking her up and approaching your boyfriend, cuddling into his chest as you kept the little girl on your arms, kissing his chest while Chiara palmed his face and giggled when Charles pretended to eat her fingers, "yummy fingers, nom, nom, nom".

"I need to get started on dinner - I'm doing that roast you really like", you offered, "I already prepped most of it, just need to cut up the veggies and then put in the oven, simple as that".

"C'mon, Chiara - I bet my mother is wondering where you are because she'll want a cuddle", Charles took her from your arms, "I'll be back for you", Charles slapped your butt playfully.

You were seasoning the food on the trays, making sure you weren't forgetting anything when your boyfriend walked up to join you, wrapping his arms around your waist, "thank you for this, I really needed it", he kissed under your ear, turning you around to face him and kissing your lips properly, "it's fine", you scoffed.

"No, I really needed it - it's easy to lose sight of these things and these moments", he began, "I was home and getting way too much into my own head and I wouldn't got to anyone unless they asked about it", he admitted, squeezing your body closer to his.

"I'm glad you liked it, it's truly nothing but I'm glad you're happy", you smiled, "I can't control what goes on your mind all the time but I'm going to make sure that whenever you're near me and say silly things about doubting yourself, I will always help you see the truth and work it out with you - no down talking about yourself when you're with me, understood?", you stated firmly almost like you were lecturing him.

"I know, amour", he giggled, kissing your forehead and then littering some more kisses on your face and making you break out in laughter loudly.

The dinner was great and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves as they ate the meal and spoke about whatever came to mind, summer plans already in discussion.

Charles was helping you put away the plates when he decided he would voice the thoughts running through his head. Usually at this time of the day he was already knee deep into strategies and failed attempts, but this time was different.

"I want this every day", Charles said with a big smile on his face.

"Well, not all of us have your schedule, it would be lovely, but maybe making it a weekly thing? Monthly maybe with your schedule?", you tried, not wanting to kick his idea straight to the trash.

"I don't mean that - I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I was wondering if you'd like to move in with me", Charles clarified, "there's no point to keep two places when realistically, we spend most times at eachother's place - you're down to what? Sleeping two nights here per week?", he noted as you smiled.

"You want to move in together?", you checked and he nodded, "yes, I do - honestly, I've thinking we keep my place since you're renting here and that way you'd be closer to work, too", he suggested.

"Sounds good to me", you smiled, kissing his lips, sealing the deal.

"I don't want to be far away from you when we don't have to be, and this way you can save on rent, too!", he added and before you truly lectured him, he caught you ahead, "I know you won't let me pay for things on my own and we will find some arrangement for that, I was just saying you won't have to keep paying your landlord", he smiled.

"I mean it when I say I want to split expenses, okay?", you argued, "unless you start going with expensive caviar or any of that crazy expensive stuff - my salary can't take that", you joked.

"When have you ever seen that in my fridge?", he threw his head back as he laughed.

"I'm only joking, handsome - I can't wait to move in with you", you hugged him, "I love you, Charles, can't wait to be your new roomie".

[v-anrouge]

Verryyy long ranting under this about vil and how this fandom treats him for absolutely no reason pls excuse any mistakes and feel free to correct me with any accidental misinfo i passed <3

Mentions of racism, fatphobia, eating disorders, elitism & ableism and also SPOILERS for Vil's character story (eng only)

Ever since this game started getting super famous in tiktok and twitter it seems that people just love to butcher literally every character in Twst and sometimes it's genuinely baffling how wrong some of the takes are, it really does make me wonder if some people just don't read the story and just skip every character who isn't their fave, and if they really do that, what makes them think they know enough about the rest of the cast to post in the character's main tag the most rancid read on a character, often accompanied by some accusations of literal crimes of bigotry that really should be taken more seriously instead of being terms thrown around.

I'm gonna be talking about Vil specifically but characters like Leona, Jamil, Sebek and a few others have it exceptionally bad as well (especially Leo and Jamil who's haters can even be quite racist)

I've been playing for a very long time (in eng) i remember being there to watch the Heartslabyul final release and the release of Savanaclaw's chapter and through these years ive seen the most horrific takes on Vil's characters, ranging from the accusations of racism (which have been debunked again and again especially by JP players) to accusations of supporting eds, fatphobia, elitism and ableism. The funny thing is that even with a very quick read of any of Vil's story you'll find out there is no support for any of such claims. They like to use the incident with Epel's accent when for years JP players have pointed out how this was strictly an error of localization since they couldn't find a situation similar to the one that is portrayed in the original game to put in eng twst, they went with the one we have where Vil asks Epel to "hide his accent" (he really doesn't he was talking about the way Epel is rude and disrespectful which would definitely end with him being beat up and then expelled bringing a bad fame to Pomefiore and also making Vil look bad for not properly guiding his dorm students) which is a terrible choice but alas it seems people prefer to ignore facts to stick with their claim that Vil is some sort of monster when this man is literally a teen. He's 18 years old and has to constantly look out for his image in and out of school since he grew up in front of the cameras.

Vil's character is all about beauty and self care and self acceptance yet for some people this seems to translate to "starve yourself if you don't want to be a disgusting fat pig" which is very weird to say the least considering all mentions Vil makes about diets he is talking about keeping a balanced diet to nurture your body and even has a voice line pointing out the importance of eating. Vil himself may be coded to have an ED in his overblot and Lab vignette but he has never and would never encourage one, he literally goes out of his way to annoy students to take care of themselves what makes anyone think he'd encourage them anyways? It's such a weird thing to assume of a character.

A lot of people seem to think that Vil is also the "beauty standart" king which doesn't even make sense considering vil is a gnc man, he already doesn't follow beauty standards and would definitely be against it, Vil's vision of beauty for himself may be twisted due to his traumas and troubles yet his vision of beauty for others is always exclusively on the person being their best version, this includes dressing how they want to and feel comfortable in, using whatever makeup they want (or just not using it at all) etc.

The way Vil speaks is often misunderstood as he tends to be strict and can be read as mean (I've already shared my theory on what may have caused this behavior here before so i won't be getting into too many details) but Vil is a famous and respected housewarden because if you actually stop and think about his advice the end result is always an effort to make the person's desires come true. (a good example is how Vil made Epel clean the windows and although Epel was displeased with the hard labor in the end he notices how the task may help with muscle growth and gets happy)

Vil's way of caring for others is often misunderstood and obviously that's understandable, not everybody may get his "rougher" way of handling advice, but also it's a bit weird how people react to it when in game all of the characters seem to be okay with it, Pomefiore has a lot of students and if they considered Vil to be a bad leader he would've been voted out a long time ago, no? And if i remember correctly wasn't it said in game they had very few transfers? (as in characters moving out of Pomefiore and into other dorms) That wouldn't make sense if Vil was really the cruel leader some people make him out to be. The truth is Vil is a nice caring person and his students recognize that which is why he is respected all across the school and not simply on his dorm (because ive seen people say Vil has brainwashed the Pomefiore students into thinking he is a good housewarden 💀)

Vil surely has issues he needs to work through, after all this game is literally about that, dealing with troubled teenagers and their internal struggles and the importance of asking for help (omg friendship is magic...) but Vil is also a teenager, and he is one of the characters that show the most desire to get better, immediately showing regret and apologizing to Yuu and his classmates for the danger he put them in, that is because Vil genuinely does care for them.

Another accusation people make is ableism, i remember seeing many posts saying Vil wouldn't respect disabled people and/or mentally ill people which is 1- extremely fucking rude to say? 2- absolutely wrong. Again just a quick read on Vil's character will tell you everything you need to know about how he'd feel about disabled people, he'd treat them like everyone else, and would adjust his handling accordingly to their needs, i really don't get where this claim comes from but it's quite ironic because a lot of Vil haters tend to be ableist themselves by claiming that Vil is a bad person mentioning traits that are often caused by mental illness and the effect of traumas, failing to analyze how their treatment of a character that displays common mental illness symptoms may affect people in real life who displays the same symptoms, and often being ableist themselves by judging these actions irredeemable and inherently evil/heartless, once again dehumanizing people with mental illness in real life who deal with the same symptoms.

Another common thing is the constant invalidation of Vil's trauma. A lot of people seem to read book 5 with their eyes closed and take away from the story that the reason Vil "got pissy and almost killed a guy" (wording of a terrible post i saw a few days ago<333) is because he's a "spoiled brat who couldn't handle getting the paper he wanted in a movie boo hoo" which is kind of funny with how terribly wrong it is, i really don't know what your thought process has to be to get his backstory this wrong but sure, let's start; The start of Vil's problems with being cast as a villain starts from when he was very very young, he was just a child when after being cast as a villain for a movie he was almost beat up by a group of boys for being an "evil guy" and by his reaction it wouldn't be impossible that this wasn't his first time dealing with that kind of thing. Vil also tells jack (who scared away the group) that he had trained so he would be able to deal with them on his own which again, could be a hint that this wasn't that uncommon in his life. In Vil's overblot dialogue is all we really need to know to debunk this claim.

What Vil wanted wasn't just to be a hero in a movie, he wanted to be seen, to be heard and cherished, he wanted to be more than a pretty prop they could put on the front to get attention only to be taken out of stage when he was no longer necessary in the next scene, do you get it? He wanted to be able to see his hard work pay off, to see his efforts of years being rewarded, to for once not be exchangeable for someone more favorable. Vil wanted to feel like all his pain was worth it in the end because finally he could shine in the stage, being himself instead of just another persona to attract people. In his overblot it's shown clearer than ever that Vil does not have a stable view of his own image unlike what he has trained himself to show, even calling himself ugly and begging them to not look at him. I don't think Vil is used to be being vulnerable, which would explain why he was so freaked out when the overblot happened, and why he cried when his beauty (the one thing about himself that was always recognized by others and therefore the thing he'd always been the most desperate to nurture) was taken away by aging in book 6 (note; the fact Vil sacrificed it for his classmates also just debunks the people saying he only cares for himself, if he did he wouldn't be who he is.)

I said i wouldn't give my thoughts again but i will, just briefly, i believe an easy explanation to Vil's behavior (the tough love he gives and his strictness) might be because of the industries he grew up in, we can't know for sure how similar twst's version of the movie and modeling industry is when compared to the real life one but considering the way Vil is, my guess it's that it's pretty similar, especially in the regard of their treatment towards children, in Vil's overblot he hears two staff members talking about how he'd never be able to pull off a relatable role because he is too perfect, and sure those may not look like insults, but to Vil who's only dream his entire life was to be seen in good light, those words stuck to him so deeply they'd come back to him during his overblot. (note; i have not seen a jp translation of the overblot scenes so i don't know if they also suffered from localization issues, if anyone has a link to one i could see id really like to see what the staff said to Vil)

The general point of Vil's overblot was how his efforts and hard work were always overlooked and ignored in favor of someone else, this happens with quite a lot of characters and happens as well with another overblot (Leona, who happens to be quite similar to Vil in many ways) and although i don't expect anyone to read it and think of analysing it more deeply even with a shallow vision of his overblot it's still incredibly insensitive to call it a "non-problem" especially considering the fact this is Vil's ENTIRE life, he's been working hard and failing for years again and again and that does get to you. I remember when i posted my first rant on Vil quite a lot of people who reported to be skilled at something (say for example music or dancing) as a child that any failures absolutely destroyed you inside, and that people who haven't passed through the same tend to call them dramatic and say they're overreacting to situations that can be classified as trauma depending on how much it mentally impacted said child. (and in Vil's case it's clear it had a massive one, after all he wouldn't have overblotted if he didn't have issues that had been bottled up until they finally exploded)

Mentioning Leona again, he and Vil share the same sentiment of anguish for being discarded and having their hard work be thrown away, the difference in them is the way they reacted to it, while Leona ended up not seeing any value in attempting to do anything because he assumes the outcome is always going to be the same, Vil overworks himself and forces himself to do things he might hate clinging to the hope that this time it'll work out.

Since we're talking about trauma ill already answer some things that may or may not come with this post (because in my first one i got this response a lot) "Vil's a fictional character it doesn't matter" and sure if you think like that cool, personally, when im talking about a fictional character that tackles real life traumas and issues, i talk about it as if referring to a real person because the character has been written with one (or multiple) in mind.

Twst may have issues but the character writing is undeniably about real life traumas and experiences, and the characters are quite accurate and good representation of the issues they tackle, so when you invalidate them, you are by result invalidating real life issues. Of course this won't stop anyone and i know that a few people will probably scoff at this and brush it off as being too sensitive but personally if you wouldn't dare invalidate say for example Riddle's traumas because you know it's a representation of mommy issues, which is a very real problem, to not go against your own morals you should also respect the issues of all the other characters, even if you personally think some are more "serious" than the other.

[mythicmanuscripts]

As soon as you said a/b/o i was sold! And no omega!reader, you stole my heart! Let me know if this is too specific or not specific enough but could we know what would be the best way to court the omegas of team green? How would they want to go about it? What gifts would make them fold the fastest? Would they try to speed up the process against decorum if they got too desperate?

Ooo great question anon!! Since we’ve never discussed a/b/o before, I think I’m gonna write some general head cannons for courting omega!Aegon and also omega!Aemond and then we can develop from there?

While this answer isn’t really explicit, I’m gonna put it under a cut anyway just because I know a/b/o isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. All a/b/o will be tagged ‘a/b/o hotd’ so you can easily filter it out :))

COURTING OMEGA!AEGON HEADCANNONS:

- so obviously Allicent would have a whole line of alphas available and she’d definitely have one in particular that she wants for Aegon. Does Aegon listen to this? No absolutely not.

- I think the trick with Aegon is to find the middle ground between letting him be independent and also caring for him? Cause Aegon would HATE to be controlled but also he will giggle like a school girl and kick his feet if you open the door for him or pour his wine for him.

- while he does certainly like gifts, I actually think he likes small personalised gifts far better than anything expensive? He is quite literally the king he can afford whatever he wants.

- he could not care less about the giant gold necklace the Lannister alpha presented him with, but then you literally just pick a flower from the gardens that he told you was his favourite and when you give that to him he blushes and thanks you and hisses at the poor servant who tries to take it and put it in a vase.

- it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that he’s not exactly one for traditions and decorum, and so if he can see that you accept that then he’s so happy.

- he’s also VERY possessive. From the moment he thinks he might like you, he hates the scent of anyone else on you. He’s well aware that scenting is looked down upon before mating but Aegon found not give less of a fuck because there’s another omega glancing at you and he will not have that!!!!

- it’s also very important to just speak to him normally? He hates when people speak to him formally and put on this facade. He needs to feel at ease and supported by his alpha.

- also he will indeed get very desperate as time goes on, especially because allicent digs her heels in a little about his choice

- there’s a solid three weeks where he’s just losing his mind cause he knows who is alpha is. He can’t stand having to entertain all these other suitors, he doesn’t want them!!!!

COURTING OMEGA!AEMOND HEADCANNONS:

- most people get courting Aemond terribly wrong, because they see his strong and skilled he is and how he’s so very very intimidating and so alphas tend to think he wants them to treat him like another alpha? And make no mistake, Aemond has worked very hard to get rid of the omega stereotypes and he certainly wouldn’t want all the alphas in the keep to treat him like an omega.

- but…. He just melts when you treat him like an actual omega? The others bring him swords and books and armour, all things he can get himself very easily and none of it impresses him. You bring him flowers and the softest blanket you can find for his best and he just absolutely melts because that omega side of himself is so so happy??

- he wants to feel safe and loved and cherished and yes he knows he’s not acting like someone who wants that but deep down he wants an alpha to treat him like a proper omega so badly.

- So when you introduce yourself and ask if you can stand closer and ask before you touch him and offer him nesting materials and pretty jewellery and just whooing him like he's any other omega

-- this is because when you treat him like that, it means you see him as an omega deserving of that? All the other alphas trying to get his are rude and entitled about it, acting like because he fights and rides a dragon and does things not stereotypical of an omega then they can just demand his hand and he's supposed to be thankful that anyone is interested in an omega like him

-- but you see all those traits and just thinks it adds to how incredible he is? So when he meets you and you ask if you can kiss his hand and go for a walk with him through the gardens? He's sold.

-- During your walk, you have very real genuine conversations and you listen to him and you give him the credit he deserves. You know he's very knowledgeable and you enjoy learning from him. The others expect him to be quiet.

-- I actually think out of Aemond and Aegon, it would be Aemond who gets the most desperate and is the most likely to beg their alpha for more before anything is official. I know this sounds counterintuitive but I'll explain: Aemond never actually thought he would find a good alpha.

-- Aemond was convinced he'd either be alone all his life or he'd have to settle for some pompous alpha who uses him and who he'd spend most of his days avoiding. So when suddenly there's an alpha who treats him well and listens to him and who makes him feel so wanted and safe? It's so so so hard to wait.

-- Allicent warns him, tells him that he can't take this too far before he's mated because if word gets out that he has then he'd never be able to find another alpha but what allicent doesn't understand is that this is exactly why he wants more. He doesn't want anyone else to even look at him. He wants to be drenched in your scent and so thoroughly yours that there can be no one else.

[misc-obeyme]

Worth It

I was possessed by the spirit of macaron (or barbmon or mambatos or... what was the other one I saw? something to do with greed?) and HERE IT IS. I just- they're so- I can't help it, okay??? This is absolutely ridiculous but I REGRET NOTHING. Left it so I had the option of a smutty part two but I haven't decided if I'm gonna write it yet or not. Also, tagging @lonely-north-star as requested in exchange for the cutest art I ever saw~

Mammon x Barbatos - okay you can read part two here it's smut lol

Warnings: nothing really this is mostly fluff - just some making out and a cameo by Little D No 2

Mammon pressed himself up against the wall of the castle as he crept down the massive hallway in the semi darkness. He knew the passages well enough by now, having mapped out the most important ones. This particular hallway would lead him to the vault if he followed it far enough. However, Mammon also knew this was the way to the kitchen.

Technically, he shouldn’t be here. He should be at the House of Lamentation working on that stupid report for Devildom Law. And yeah, he’d tried to write some of it. It took maybe five minutes before he was bored out of his mind and decided he had something more important to do.

He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t notice Little D No 2 until he was tripping over him.

“Ow, hey watch it!” No 2 protested.

“Shhh!” Mammon bent down to clasp a hand on No 2’s mouth.

“Mm-mm!” No 2 exclaimed.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya?” Mammon whispered. “I ain’t nobody’s papa! Now be quiet or he’ll hear you!”

A door opened and light spilled into the hallway, illuminating the scene. Barbatos looked about for a moment before spotting them.

Mammon stood up straight, No 2 still clasped in his hands.

Barbatos shook his head a bit. “Did you truly think I would not notice you sneaking by?”

“I wasn’t sneakin’!” Mammon said immediately.

No 2 kicked his legs. “Mm! Mm-mm-mm-mmmm!”

“Ya little traitor!” Mammon said.

“If you would please let Little D No 2 go,” Barbatos said calmly. “He has his own work to be getting to.”

No 2 groaned as Mammon put him down, surprisingly careful.

“But Mr. Barbatos!” No 2 exclaimed as soon as Mammon removed his hand from No 2's mouth.

“No arguments, No 2,” Barbatos said, though his voice was soft and there was a trace of a smile on his face. “You still have dusting to do, if I’m not mistaken.”

No 2 groaned again, but he scampered away down the hall as he did so.

Barbatos looked across the hallway at Mammon, who stayed where he was, frozen in uncertainty.

“You’re slipping, I fear,” Barbatos said. “Normally you make it quite a bit closer to the vault before being caught.”

Mammon folded his arms. “Yeah? Well if I’m slippin’, so are you. How long have ya known I was here? Didn’t even bother to come lookin’.”

Barbatos actually chuckled at this and Mammon was suddenly fighting down a blush. “My apologies,” Barbatos said. “I’m afraid I was unable to leave the cake I’m baking unattended in order to apprehend you.”

Mammon blushed harder and looked away. “Yeah, well, I ain’t here for the vault anyway.”

“No?” Barbatos asked and there was genuine confusion in his voice. “Then what has brought you here this evening?”

Mammon pulled a small packet out of his jacket pocket. “I-I happened to come across this. Know it’s pretty rare. Thought ya might appreciate it.”

Without even looking at Barbatos, Mammon crossed the space and put the packet in his hands.

“That’s all, I’ll see myself out,” Mammon said, as he turned away.

Barbatos caught his wrist.

There was a brief moment where neither of them moved or spoke. Mammon’s heart was racing.

“This is one of the rarest teas available in the Devildom,” Barbatos said quietly. “Did you really intend to give it to me without staying to sample a cup?”

Mammon gulped, still turned away. His wrist was tingling where Barbatos was still holding on. Barbatos wasn’t wearing his gloves, having taken them off while he was baking. The contact between their skin was both thrilling and terrifying.

Mammon turned around, effectively removing his wrist from Barbatos’s grip. “I-I mean, if ya want me to…”

“I would enjoy nothing more than serving tea to the Great Mammon,” Barbatos said.

Mammon looked up at him sharply. He was greeted by a teasing smile, but also a glimmer of genuine pleasure. Mammon took a deep breath and said, “That’s right! Of course ya want me to stay! I don’t mind stickin’ around for a bit, but ya better be grateful!”

Barbatos stepped aside to allow Mammon to enter the kitchen. “My gratitude knows no bounds.”

Mammon narrowed his eyes at Barbatos as he entered the kitchen and settled on a stool by the island counter. Barbatos went around to the other side with the packet of tea and began to prepare the tea pot.

Barbatos looked up at Mammon through the fringe of his bangs. "If you had no intention of stealing from the vault, why were you sneaking through the hallway in the dark? You should have let me know you were coming."

Mammon huffed. He was annoyed at how hot his face still was. He couldn't seem to calm down. "I just… wanted to surprise ya."

Barbatos chuckled. "Then you have succeeded," he said. "I am both surprised by the fact that you are not here to steal and by the rarity of the tea you've brought me. Do I want to know how you obtained it?"

"I didn't steal it," Mammon said instantly. His blush was gone now and he sat up straight. "I saw it for sale and Lucifer told me what it was. So I earned some extra cash by pickin' up a couple modelin' gigs, that's all."

Barbatos paused what he was doing to meet Mammon's eyes across the counter. "You would do that for me?"

Mammon knew this was his chance to be honest. For how long had he been playing this little game with Barbatos? How long had they been tip toeing around each other, never fully committing, never even acting like they were close. Mammon didn't know what was holding Barbatos back - propriety probably - but for him? It was the knowledge that this demon was too good for him.

Despite that, he wasn't afraid of being rejected. He knew better than that.

"Yeah," he said, easily, not breaking eye contact. "I would. I did."

The smile that spread across Barbatos's face was the most beautiful thing Mammon had ever seen. So often he saw the knowing smile or the indulgent smile, but this was a genuine expression of fondness. Like Barbatos had finally cast aside his mask to reveal how he truly felt.

"Thank you, Mammon," Barbatos said, simply.

Mammon's heart suddenly became noisy in his ears.

When the tea was ready, Barbatos poured them each a cup, then came around the counter to sit on a stool beside Mammon. He placed the cups in front of them.

Mammon took his cup, which was still quite warm. Steam rose from it, fogging up his glasses.

Barbatos shook his head, though he was smiling. He put down his own cup and reached across to take Mammon's glasses off himself. He put them down on the counter. "You really needn't wear your sunglasses indoors, wouldn't you say?"

Mammon was so stunned by this intimate gesture that he didn't know how to respond for a moment. "Y-yeah," he mumbled.

Barbatos sipped at his tea, then closed his eyes in satisfaction. "This is indeed a high quality blend. You must have paid quite a bit of Grimm for it."

Mammon shrugged. "Eh," he said noncommittally. He didn't care how much the tea had cost. Barbatos's smile and his satisfied expression was worth every Grimm.

Barbatos opened his eyes. "Eh?"

Mammon sipped at his own cup before responding. "It was worth it."

Barbatos seemed to understand what he meant, the part that he didn't say. Though it was often hard for Mammon to tell just what Barbatos was thinking. He was too good at masking his emotions. Mammon was aware of how Barbatos only ever let him see what he wanted Mammon to see.

Barbatos put his tea cup down on the counter and slid off his stool. Mammon looked at him curiously, once again unable to read his expression.

Barbatos took the cup from Mammon's hands and put it on the counter next to his own. Mammon let him, responding easily and without resistance.

And then Barbatos moved in between Mammon's knees and kissed him.

Mammon's eyes fluttered closed as he tasted the light flavor of the tea on Barbatos's lips. His hands reached out instinctively to pull Barbatos closer. Even as his heart was racing again and the blush had sprung back up, Mammon also wanted more of this.

To his surprise, Barbatos responded almost as eagerly, one hand on Mammon's waist, the other on his thigh. Mammon thought he would combust when he felt a light nip at his bottom lip, causing him to open his mouth.

The next few minutes was all heat and tongues and the lingering taste of tea. Mammon thought he'd fall off his stool because he felt so dizzy.

Barbatos pulled away for a moment and looked at Mammon with half lidded eyes. "Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?"

It was a miracle that Mammon did not die on the spot. Instead, he let Barbatos lead him out of the kitchen. When Little D No 2 returned in search of his boss, he found nothing but two cold cups of expensive tea and a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses.

worth it part two | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[vickyzangels]

% “..but i kinda hope they catch us, anyway.”

# synopsis ; an anon asked for sfw and nsfw headcanons for tom but i accidentally deleted the ask while trying to fight for my life against tumblr because every time i added a border two other pictures would disappear tumblr i hope you fall down the stairs

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 551

# tags ; nsfw further under “keep reading” (mdni)

a/n ; i’m gonna drop this first but i have a nearly finished smut oneshot literally sitting in docs rn if i get decent enough feedback on this i’ll drop it

sfw

y’all remember that interview where he said he’d “fall in love for only a night but that he’d be down for true love later”? yeah unfortunately that applied to you, too

this can go one of two ways, you work close to the band as staff or you were a fan at one of their concerts that for some reason has to keep coming back and tom took a visual liking to you

what goes down between you two after he first notices you is vague but tom keeps seeing you every time you’re around and you started weaseling your way into his head at every hour of the day

he’d never admit that though (yet), so he’s still gonna keep up his playboy act for a bit but you’re gonna pick up that he’s being closer to you like making small jokes with you and being a little nicer

god it took you so long but he finally let you squeeze through his shell enough to be relatively close friends for a while but this definitely became a “do i wanna know if this feeling flows both ways” situation

yes the feeling did flow both ways, too bad he was still a player and you didn’t wanna ruin anything so you just endlessly flirted with each other

i am 92% sure he came to you first at an afterparty absolutely wasted and told you in german “du bist so unglaublich schön und ich will dich so sehr.” you are so infuriatingly beautiful and i want you so bad.

unfortunately, bill had to translate for you

i’ve been talking a lot so i’ll try to sum up a relationship with him and add miscellaneous points

he makes an effort to act like a boyfriend in your relationship, like he doesn’t openly flirt with other people out of genuine respect for you

first date was something like you two staying over at one of your houses for the night like a sleepover or doing something in the city

he has never forgotten any important day for you. never. and on that topic, he’ll get gifts for those days nearly months in advance

he appreciates a person with aesthetic

i’m lying, tom would fall head over heels in love if you wear something even remotely close to his style

nsfw

tom is a dog, y’all have seen the way he talks about what he wants to do during sex but he’s the most respectful person someone could probably ever ask for, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to pause everything if you told him you felt a little uncomfortable

the type of guy to fake bang you from behind when you bend over to grab something.

he’d spit in your mouth, having you kneel in front of him and holding your jaw open by squeezing it then making you swallow it if you wanted to be touched at all

this almost isn’t a headcanon but he’s a tit guy, regardless of size he’d froth at the mouth just to hold them

there’s not a big dom/sub thing between you two but he’s a switch because i said so

y’all… his favorite position is doggy or prone bone doesn’t matter as long as he gets to pull you by your neck up to him

a/n ; wow. didn’t think i could write something like this but i have a lot more so lmk if i should make a part 2?

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (3/?)

Part summary: Leigh develops an unhealthy habit as she hits closer to rock bottom

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.370 | Warnings/Tags: Some hetero stuff | A/N: Things will pick up after this part. I think there's going to be a total of 6 parts, but let me confirm that in the next update :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Next

-

Leigh is ten minutes late. 

It makes sense. Her willingness to attend this meeting was surprising, because if you were in her shoes, you doubt you'd have agreed to it. Listening to the entire history of a relationship can be exhausting, and it's hard to imagine what it feels like to hear about one that arguably should never have existed.

But just as you're about to think she's bailed or intentionally left you hanging, you spot her sprinting toward the cafe from across the street. She's a mess—hair soaked and sticking everywhere, face bare, missing its usual touch of makeup. But even like this, Leigh doesn't look much different from her usual self. You can't help feeling a bit envious of that.

She rushes into the cafe, attracting a few curious looks, but she barely registers them, her wide green eyes quickly finding you.

“Sorry I'm late,” she pants, struggling to catch her breath, “I got caught in the rain and then missed my bus.” The lie slips out effortlessly. True, it had rained, but the real reason was far more personal—something you didn't need to know.

You shrug off her apology with a smile, signaling the waiter for a menu for Leigh. “No worries, I'm just glad you made it,” you say.

Leigh gives you a quick once-over, then forces a smile and thanks you. Once her coffee order's in, she gets right down to it. “So, Matt,” she starts, her voice dropping to a whisper, “how did you two meet?”

You lean back, carefully thinking about what to say next. You didn't practice your answers ahead of time because you weren't planning to lie about anything. But you're wary of how you word things, not wanting to upset her. Being caught up with a married man is embarrassing enough as it is, and having to relay the details to his widowed wife only adds to it.

“Actually, our first meeting was totally by chance,” you say, bringing your steaming cup of tea to your lips. “I quite literally bumped into Matt one day. It was so brief, I barely gave it a second thought.”

You take a deep breath before continuing, “Then, about a week later, Matt showed up at my clinic with the same friend from before. It turned out, they were there for his friend's dog, who needed a check-up. Matt was just tagging along, helping out.”

Leigh’s face remains passive, making it hard to read. 

“The friend was the one who interacted with me the most that day. He even asked for my number, saying they were grateful for the help with the dog. I assumed he was interested,” you say, the memory coming back to you clearer now as you speak. “But, to my surprise, it was Matt who texted me later, not his friend.”

You barely manage to suppress the slight twitch of your lips, recalling how everything once seemed magical to you. Leigh on the other hand, takes a slow sip of her coffee, buying a moment to process.

“Who was that friend of Matt's? Do you remember his name?” she asks.

You pause, racking your brain for the detail, feeling its importance to Leigh. “Yeah, I think his name was Nick or something,” you say, scratching your head. Whether the name ‘Nick’ rings any bells for her or not, she doesn't let on. 

“Strange,” you mumble under your breath, but then shrug it off. “It doesn't really matter, he's not the one I—” You stop yourself just in time, realizing you're about to say something potentially hurtful about a situation that still feels raw, especially to Leigh.

Instead, you quickly pivot. “Anyway, that's how it all started. On the day of the dog’s follow-up, it was just Matt who came by. We struck up a friendship from there, and one thing led to another until he, uhm, asked me out for dinner.”

At this, you notice a subtle change in Leigh's demeanor. Her entire frame becomes more timid, the first real sign of emotion she's shown since this conversation began. 

You’re about to go on with your story when Leigh suddenly speaks up.

“So, you just said yes, even though he was your client? Don't veterinarians have professional boundaries?”

Ever since meeting Leigh, you've found it challenging to predict what might trigger her reactions—it's like navigating a minefield. Occasionally, you’d find yourself wondering what it would be like to know her without the complications currently defining your interactions. You think about the roles you both involuntarily play in each other's lives, roles neither of you auditioned for but somehow ended up performing.

You feel a lump form in your throat, and your gaze drops to your lap. “Well, he was persistent,” you say, feeling the need to defend your decision. Nevertheless, it sounds weak to your own ears. “But I made it clear nothing could happen until the dog's treatment was complete. And I insisted he'd have to find a different vet for any future appointments. It was... complicated.”

“I bet,” Leigh scoffs, crossing her arms. After a beat, she asks, almost too casually, “So, how quickly did you two... you know, have your first kiss?”

The question hangs awkwardly between you. You know you can’t answer it in any way you could avoid her judgment, so you just decide to spit it out. 

“First date.” Under Leigh’s scrutinizing gaze, it feels like admitting to a minor crime.

Leigh stares at you with unblinking eyes. “And how long after meeting him did this first date happen?”

You draw in a slow breath. “Three weeks,” you mutter. “It was last fall.” You add that bit, proactively laying out the timeline as if it could somehow soften the blow or make the situation less complicated. Leigh, however, looks like you've just knocked the wind out of her. She looks away, her expression shifting into something like shock or deep pain. Alarm bells ring in your head at the picture before you.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?” you say in a rush. “I mean, this whole situation is messed up, but if I—”

Leigh’s eyes are glass as they return to you. When she speaks again, her voice is so soft you almost have to lean in to hear. “Last fall... That's when I told Matt we should start trying for a baby.”

The words drain the color from your face. And suddenly, all the pieces of your story with Matt feels even more tainted.

You're not sure what your face gives away when you hear this news, but Leigh's expression quickly shifts from tearful to furious. “Stop feeling sorry for me,” she hisses. “I don’t need your pity.”

Leigh's tears start to spill over, and it's only 7:30 in the morning. It feels way too early for tears, especially here, in the middle of a coffee shop where the day is just beginning for most. You try to shrink into your seat, wishing you could make both of you invisible as the few other patrons start throwing curious, if not outright concerned, looks your way.

You never realized a simple conversation could cause someone so much pain. You thought providing Leigh with answers would help, but it looks like you're just making things even harder for her. Maybe keeping your distance from her is the kindest thing you can do.

“You know the worst part?” Leigh brushes away the tears that keep streaking down her face.

Clearly, she isn't looking for an answer, so you stay silent.

She makes sure she catches your eye before saying, “He agreed, and we started trying.”

-

Leigh catches her breath after wrapping up her class at the Beautiful Beast. 

She took a day off yesterday, immediately after talking with you, spending the whole day in bed just trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Surprisingly, wasting away for a whole day seemed to help, and her concerns gradually drifted back to her fight with Jules. It’s been days, and Leigh feels the urgency of reconciliation pressing on her. By this point, they should be on speaking terms again. By now, Jules should have let go of her anger, right? Leigh knows she can't afford to have her sister hating her. At least not right now. She needs her family, or what’s left of it—on her side. 

“Hey, Jules, got a sec? About the schedule…” Leigh tries, hoping work might be a safe enough topic to get her sister to acknowledge her existence once again.

Jules barely glances her way. Her hands keep moving, adjusting a strap here, aligning yoga mats there, as if the very act could shield her from having to engage. “Sorted. Check your email,” she replies, her voice cold and detached.

Leigh nods, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “Great, great... um, did you consider adding that beginners' workshop we talked about?”

Jules stops for a beat, and Leigh thinks, maybe she's going to drop it. But no, Jules resumes fussing over items that hardly require any attention. Then, without even looking up, she says, “Yeah, it's on the list. Anything else?”

Leigh tries to keep her cool, wishing Jules would just cut to the chase and tell her what needs to be done for all to be forgiven. 

Trying a different tactic, Leigh goes, “Hey, found a Starbucks card in my bag. How 'bout I grab us some coffee? My treat.”

Leigh’s trying. She really is. Why can’t they see that?

Jules just gives her that look, the kind that doesn't need words, and heads back to her desk. And there's Leigh, offer of a beverage truce just floating in the air, going nowhere.

Getting ignored really gets under Leigh's skin. Back in the day, Matt's habit of brushing her off would drive her to the edge. She'd respond with over-the-top demands or twist things around just to make sure he’d always pay attention to her. She didn't start off wanting to be that person, but looking back, she sees the lengths she'd go to just to keep his attention from straying. 

Unable to control herself, she heads straight for Jules, grabs her arm despite her trying to wiggle free, and yanks her into the backroom.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Jules explodes, not caring if anyone’s heard her outside.

They're both standing there, kind of shocked by how heated things got so fast. Jules’ shout might've turned a few heads outside, but right now, that's the least of Leigh's worries.

“How many times do I need to apologize, for you to get over this?”

Jules’ eyes are wide in disbelief, her mouth twisting into a sardonic smile, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, Leigh! This is exactly why I’m not talking to you,” Jules hisses, but keeps her voice down this time.

“What—”

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

Leigh's initial scoff dies in her throat as she watches Jules' expression twist with hurt. “Yeah, okay, I said sorry about the crap I pulled the other day. I know I was out of line, talking about your past like that—”

Jules doesn't let her finish. “You weren't just being ‘out of line’, Leigh. You threw the worst time of my life in my face! Do you have any idea how hurtful that is? Coming from my own sister? From my own family? What, just to win an argument? To cover up for acting like a jerk at the club?”

Leigh goes quiet, but her face hardens, trying not to show how much Jules' words hit her right in the gut. What she said, laid out like that, it sounds…well, unforgivable.

“I'm trying, okay?” Leigh blurts out without thinking.

“Shouldn't be that hard to just be a decent human being, should it?” Jules shoots back, her dismissal sharp as she exits the cramped space, leaving Leigh reeling.

Under her breath, almost like she's talking to the walls, Leigh mumbles, “I'm really sorry…” It's quiet, almost lost in the room, but she means it the most at this very moment, even if no one's around to catch it.

-

Leigh clocks out from work, her day's fatigue hanging off her shoulders like a weighty cloak. Instead of heading straight home, she veers off her usual path, her feet bringing her to places that made breathing difficult the first few weeks after Matt's death. She's walking the same old route she always did when he was still around, back to when her home address was different and she'd pick up takeout from his favorite places along the way.

There’s the park first, the one where she and Matt spent countless afternoons sprawled on the grass, lying side by side as they watched the sky blush into shades of orange at sunset. She allows herself only a fleeting glance at the familiar paths and the bench they claimed theirs, feeling the same regret, the same hollowness as she remembers the good times they had there. 

In the back of her mind, she can't shake off the worry that maybe you've been here too, making your own memories with him. She doesn’t feel the surge of anger at this thought however. Instead, a part of her is almost willing to share these sacred memories if it means holding onto him in any form. She wants to believe that her jealousy has faded into a quieter acceptance that others might also carry pieces of him, pieces she's learning to live with.

Pulling herself away from the park, Leigh's walk inevitably leads her past Matt's favorite Italian restaurant—a quaint, cozy place where they celebrated most of their birthdays and, on occasion, anniversaries, especially when neither felt like cooking (which became an increasingly common choice in the months leading up to his accident).

She remembers how Matt's face would light up at the prospect of their rich, creamy carbonara and the tiramisu he claimed was unrivaled in the city. She recalls the numerous times she attempted to recreate the restaurant's tiramisu at home, aiming to surprise Matt at least once a month. Despite her efforts, if she truly wanted to indulge him, she knew there was no substitute for the real thing. So, on special days, or whenever she felt an extra burst of affection, she'd stop by the restaurant on her way home, picking up takeout. 

A waitress from the restaurant notices Leigh's lingering gaze and asks if she'd like a table. With a shy smile, Leigh declines, then pauses before finally deciding to order a tiramisu to go.

When she returns to her mom's house and eats the tiramisu alone, it tastes different. 

Leigh can't decide if the difference in the tiramisu's taste is good or bad, but that doesn't stop her. She finishes the entire slice in minutes. But instead of feeling full, it makes her feel emptier. Perhaps, it’s not the flavor that's changed; it's the experience of eating it without Matt's enthusiastic commentary, without him lighting up at the first bite or playfully claiming the last one, despite his generous offer to let her have it.

Suddenly, tears just start pouring out of Leigh as she sits there with an empty plate. She didn't see it coming, no chance to stop it or shove it down. Then, she finds herself laughing—a deep, throaty laugh—because she's grieved for him in countless ways, but this, crying over a dessert, has to be the most absurd. It's exactly the kind of moment they would have laughed at together.

Deciding that that would be her dinner, Leigh cleans up the small mess she's made and considers the evening ahead. But just as she’s about to sink into the couch for a quiet night, her phone buzzes, making her jump.

Seeing your name flash on her screen, she sighs, sensing a familiar bitterness creeping back in, disrupting the soothing moments she had just spent reminiscing about Matt. She lets it ring a few times more before picking up.

“Hi, Y/N,” Leigh says, managing to keep her voice steady over the phone.

“Hey,” you start, unsure how to break the ice after everything. Especially with what you’re about to say next.

“Listen, something happened today at the clinic. Someone came in looking for their lost French Bulldog, and they had a picture,” you pause to breathe. “Leigh, it looks a lot like Visitor.”

On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Leigh's heart skip a beat.

“Hello?” you ask, checking to make sure she's still there after she doesn't respond for several seconds.

“Are you sure?” Leigh’s voice cracks slightly.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure,” you say softly, feeling a surge of empathy. “I'm sending you the picture now. Check it out and tell me what you think.”

You hit send and then wait for Leigh’s confirmation.

“It's him. It's definitely Visitor,” she says a moment later.

You're relieved but also concerned about what comes next. “So, what are you going to do?”

Leigh hesitates, and when she speaks again, she doesn’t give a direct answer. “Thank you, Y/N,” she says, and you pick up something in her tone. Something somber. 

“Everything alright?” 

But the line's already dead, leaving you staring at your phone, wondering what she is up to.

-

Leigh stands outside the community center, her hand lingering on the door longer than usual.  It's been weeks since she last came to a session. First, there was the shock of uncovering Matt's darkest secret, and now, there's the issue of the man inside, already looking her way, waiting to see her next move.

Danny appearing at her doorstep earlier in the week caught her completely off guard—and not in a good way. The moment she realized it was him, Leigh didn't hesitate to close the door in his face. After she shut him out, it escalated to the point where she threatened to call the police because he wouldn't stop pounding on the door and shouting for Leigh to let him in, insisting he just wanted to talk. His last attempt to get through to her fell flat when he flooded her inbox with texts and missed calls, pushing Leigh to the point where she blocked his number for good.

Despite the problem of Danny being here tonight, Leigh isn't willing to walk away from this just because of him. She's already given up so much lately, most recently Visitor—or Chico, as she found out his real name was—and his absence carved a fresh ache in her heart that she hadn't seen coming.

So, she takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, ignoring the smirk on Danny’s face as she proceeds to pretend like he doesn’t exist.

-

Somehow, after the meeting, Leigh ends up saying yes to a quick chat with Danny. He reels her in with the news that he submitted Matt’s remaining works—which he got custody of—to his publisher, and they were keen to publish them posthumously. 

Leigh can't help but throw in a bit of shade. “That's nice of you, doing something good for your brother, even if it's a bit late.”

Danny's face drops a little. Her words were sharp enough to hurt him, but he doesn't bite back or get in her face about it, which totally throws Leigh for a loop. After all the time she'd spent ignoring him, she had expected him to be at his worst around her.

And then he surprises her even more when he says, “Let me give you a ride home? It's the least I can do…”

Leigh arches an eyebrow. She didn’t bring the car tonight because Jules had a thing with Tommy, and she didn’t want to give her sister another reason to resent her. A ride from Danny beats the alternatives of walking or shelling out for a pricey cab, especially now that her phone's battery has given out, nixing the option of booking an Uber.

But this is Danny. Matt’s brother, and the guy she hooked up with because she thought she’d get back some semblance of her dead husband. After Jules pointed out how messed up it was that they'd slept together, Leigh's been all over the place. The rules around what they were doing either turned her off or, weirdly enough, made the whole thing more enticing, taboo and all. That's a big part of why she's been steering clear of him. Hanging out with Danny feels like reaching for a cigarette long after she's sworn off smoking.

Even with all that swirling in her head, Leigh ends up saying, “Sure, why not?”

Before she knows it, she's also agreeing to a drink at his place.

-

The second they step into his apartment, something inside of Leigh snaps. Acting on impulse, she grabs Danny by the collar and kisses him fiercely. She clenches his shirt in her hands, practically tearing it in her grip. Danny's initial surprise melts away in seconds, and then he’s kissing her just as hard, his tongue prying open her lips, taking control of the kiss right away. His hands find her waits, pulling her closer, practically already half-lifting her against the wall.

Leigh, caught up in the moment, begins to move her hips in a rocking motion against him. The action is effective enough to distract him from where he’s kissing every inch of Leigh’s neck, and he retaliates by suddenly pressing her more firmly against the wall, pinning her with his hips, their chests are tightly pressed together.

But as Leigh's fingers begin to fumble with the button of Danny's pants, he catches her hands gently and, panting, says, “Wait, Leigh, hold on for just a sec.” 

Leigh’s eyes fly open at his voice, irritation and impatience coloring them. “What?” she gasps out. 

He ignores the hard edges of her tone. He wants more—something real—and he's hoping she does too.

“I can’t do this again unless I know it’s going somewhere,” Danny says. He gently lets go of Leigh and takes a step back, trying to collect himself. It's a tough task, though, with Leigh looking the way she does—hair all tousled, lips slightly swollen and marked from when he got a bit carried away, her cheeks tinged with a warm flush. He could’ve made her come in the next two minutes, he’s sure of it.

At Danny's confession, Leigh can't help it; she bursts into laughter. The idea of him catching feelings now, of all times, seems absurd to her. As she laughs, Danny's jaw tightens, but he waits patiently for her to finish.

When Leigh finally notices the seriousness etched across Danny's face, her amusement evaporates almost instantly. The realization that he's not joking strikes her, and it doesn't sit well. Not one bit.

“What, you think because your brother's gone, you get to... what? Step in? Take his place?” she spits out, incredulous. “This is never going to be anything more than a quick fuck, Danny.”

In his desperation, he calls her bluff. “You’re lying.”

Leigh's reaction morphs into a cruel sneer. “If you're going to insist on something more, then we're just wasting our time,” she mutters, turning to leave.

Danny's not ready to let her walk away, not yet. He grabs her arm, and for a second, they're just staring each other down, a silent battle raging between them. Leigh’s resolve is impenetrable.

It’s Danny who cracks first, exhaling a defeated, “Fine.”

But Leigh's not having any half-measures. She whirls around, fire in her eyes. “Nope. Say it properly,” she demands.

With a sigh that feels like he's giving away a part of himself, Danny looks at her, worn and resigned. “This doesn't have to mean anything,” he says even if it’s the last thing he wants.

Leigh locks eyes with him, a storm brewing in her look. Just when Danny thinks it's better to just drop it, she throws him a question out of nowhere. 

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” Danny asks, genuinely puzzled.

“About Matt and me... trying for a baby when he... you know.”

“He... he never mentioned anything like that,” he says, feeling the pain she’s radiating. Leigh looks like she’s about to fall apart and all he wants is to be the one to gather her pieces and put them all back together.

No more words follow from Leigh. It's as if the question drained what was left of the conversation. Without warning, she surges forward, her lips meeting Danny’s in a bruising kiss, then she grabs Danny's hands, placing them firmly back on her waist. He gets the message loud and clear, and together they quickly shed their clothes, letting them fall in a heap around their feet. She comes about twelve minutes and thirty seconds later.

-

It's been eight days—not that you're keeping track or anything. But after giving Leigh the heads-up that someone’s been looking for a dog that looks exactly like Visitor, you were kind of expecting she’d at least update you if it really was him or not.

So, when a client strolls in later with Visitor, who's actually called Chico according to the file your secretary slips you, you're a little disappointed it's not Leigh showing up instead. It must have been incredibly tough for her to return Chico to his real family. She invested her heart, time, and not to mention her wallet, into that dog, caring for him as if he were her own.

Thinking she’d be relieved to know he’s in good hands, you send her a text to update her about Chico's visit to the clinic today. You mention how healthy and content he seems, yet you hazard a guess that he's probably missing Leigh too. 

She sees your message right away, and then leaves you on read.

-

Her thing with Danny turns into a late-night ritual, particularly after Drew fails to respond to her following their conversation, not even offering her a guest column in the weeks that followed their talk. Drew continues to invite her for coffee and dinner dates along with his fiancée, but he avoids the topic about the column, so Leigh stops asking.

The hookups are always a post-midnight impulse. She’d find herself sneaking out of her mother's house to meet him, driven by a mix of need and escape, or occasionally, by insomnia. After their moments together, she never lingers in Danny's bed for too long once she's found her satisfaction, eager to shower away his scent from her skin. 

Back at home, she ensures there's no trace of their deed by the time she slips into bed, allowing herself to sleep deep into the middle of the day. This pattern of nocturnal activity and daytime slumber has led her mother to adjust Leigh's responsibilities, moving her to take charge of the afternoon classes instead. This behavior earns her suspicious glances from Jules, but Leigh chooses to ignore them—if Jules isn't interested in reconciling, then she has no right to concern herself with Leigh's personal affairs.

Leigh doesn’t know how she got here, back at the beginning, in an ever messier situation. She can't stop fucking Danny, her emotions for Matt are a rollercoaster—she finds herself forgiving him and cursing him interchangeably a couple of times a day. 

She's astounded this is her life now, seemingly unable to talk herself out of decisions that pull her deeper into chaos.

-

A month later, Leigh becomes a distant memory. Following a series of tumultuous encounters, your life gradually returns to its normal rhythm—quiet, ordinary days filled with clinic work, attending to various cases, meeting new clients, and addressing the myriad issues of small animals. All of these tasks prove easier to deal with than anything involving Leigh Shaw.

The sole noteworthy event in your generally uneventful life lately was your latest visit to a physician for an annual physical exam. The blood tests revealed some numbers outside the normal range, notably elevated cholesterol levels. Consequently, your doctor advised you to integrate exercise into your daily regimen and to reduce your consumption of takeout meals, specifically pizza and Chinese fast food.

It’s a big sacrifice, considering your day usually flies by without much thought for food, except for dinner. It’s the one time in your day you actually look forward to. So, to hold onto that bit of happiness, you've been looking at fitness classes that are actually enjoyable and help burn those extra calories to keep you in shape.

Yoga stands out as the top choice for you, mainly because it all unfolds on a mat. You assume it'll demand the least amount of effort compared to the other options (specifically spinning), which all seem to promise nothing but pain and suffering.

Deciding to give yoga a shot, you choose Beautiful Beast, swayed by its stellar reviews. You secure a slot for a 6pm class, feeling pretty good about this decision.

That is, until Leigh Shaw walks into the said class, clad in a sports bra and tight-fitting leggings that highlight her toned legs. She’s busy on her phone, and without looking up, she walks to the front of the room. 

What are the chances you'd both be in the same class at the same fitness studio? The plot thickens when she pockets her phone and turns to face the class, gesturing for everyone to get their mats ready as the session's about to start.

You swallow hard. Leigh isn't here as a joiner—she's running it.

It takes about a quarter of the session for Leigh to notice you’re in her class. It's only while she's making her rounds, observing each student's camel pose, that her gaze finally lands on you. Struggling through your lack of core strength, you can't quite catch her initial reaction, but then she calls out your name. The surprise makes you gasp as she places her hand on the curve of your spine, just above the small of your back, and gently pushes you upward, deepening your arch. 

The stretch draws a grimace from you, but then she says, “Good, that's it,” and suddenly, you're determined not to let her down. You focus on the pose, on Leigh's instructions, and on not falling apart under her watchful eye. Leigh keeps everyone in the position a few moments longer than expected before instructing the class to transition into the child's pose for recovery. At her cue, your arms collapse, and you find yourself breathing heavily, grateful for the brief respite.

Something tells you it's not the high cholesterol that's going to be the end of you, but rather this yoga class and Leigh's merciless teaching style. 

-

You're all packed up and ready to leave, still reeling from what could easily be the toughest hour of your life, when someone calls out to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

It's Leigh. Her tone is softer, more fatigued than you remember. She’s still in her gym clothes, looking like the workout barely touched her except for a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead. And somehow, she smells more like a rose garden than the gym floor.

“I didn’t know you work here—” you blurt out, almost apologizing. But before you can add anything else, Leigh just shakes her head, something like amusement in her smile, stopping you mid-sentence. Her smile, warm and a little teasing, eases some of the tension you didn't realize you were holding. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” she teases. “Cause yeah, I was going to ask if you were following me.”

You’re quick to deny it. “I wasn’t.”

Leigh lets out a chuckle like she's getting a kick out of seeing you on edge. You shuffle your feet, still unsure if she’s trying to scare you off or welcome you to her tutelage.  

“Look, if it's weird for you, me being here... I can find another class,” you offer, the words tumbling out before you can think them through.

Her reaction is swift and a bit surprising, “Why would I want that? So you can duck out and be a rubbish yogi elsewhere and ruin my reputation?”

You’re taken aback by her response. Clearly, Leigh's not pushing you away; it's almost as if she's egging you on, daring you to stick it out. And if there's any hope of moving past this... whatever it is, leaving now because it might get awkward doesn't seem like the right move to make a fresh start.

“All right, I'll stay,” you find yourself saying, more to your surprise than hers. 

Leigh's got this look of triumph, chin lifted just so, when you agree to stick around. “See you at 5:30. Greenway Park,” she throws out casually.

You're there blinking, trying to piece together what she means. But before you can even get a word out, she's one step ahead. 

“We have to work on your endurance,” she clarifies. “Make sure you’re wearing real running shoes. No sneakers.”

[sarah-yyy]

what is war of faith about? is it worth a watch apart from just wang yibo(being gay?)? and where should i watch it?

you were all expecting me to do this so okay let's see how many others i can drag down this shenlai (i think this is the ship name we've settled on?? i have seen many 沈来之笔 tags on ao3 so i'm assuming that's what the chinese fandom has settled on) hole.

what: republican era communist spy drama (finance bros edition) // completed // 38 eps, roughly 40 mins each where: iqiyi (standard disclaimer that i don’t watch with subs so i don’t speak to the quality of eng subs) why: *chanting* yibo yibo yibo yibo yib- wang yang?? xiansheng???? i'll preface by saying i don't watch many republican era shows - it's really just not my thing, like even zhu yilong couldn't make me watch one and that's saying a lot, but i did finish and quite enjoy this one!! extremely strong cast on this show, and the story moved fast enough and had enough action in it that it kept my attention.

meet my boy wei ruolai:

ruolai is from a v humble family, worked hard to put himself through night school but is having trouble stepping foot into the finance world because he has no money, no connections, no diploma (the school is holding off on issuing him one because he's from a communist-stronghold province 😪). he's working several jobs to make ends meet in shanghai when he decides to interview for a job at the central bank.

he aces his entrance test! ofc he does! ruolai is a bit of a whiz with numbers, and is very very very determined to get the job - the place could be on goddamn fire for all he cares, he'll finish his goddamn test and get this goddamn job even if it kills him.

his performance gains him the attention of shen tunan:

xiansheng!! 😍💖💕

chief of the central bank, The Guy™ of the finance and banking industry in shanghai. extremely attractive in a suit. 100% dilf certified.

xiansheng takes a shine on ruolai, but ends up not being able to hire ruolai despite his excellence because, again, ruolai is from a communist-stronghold province, and they don't want to take any chances with him possibly having communist ties.

does that set ruolai back?? no. my boy sneaks into a party that shen tunan is holding at his mansion, and convinces shen tunan to hire him by essentially picking apart shen tunan's ~secret strategies~ that he's uncovered just by following the finance news and making smart deductions 🥺💚

shen tunan caves and personally hires ruolai as his PA, and begins mentoring him and teaching him the ways of the banking industry.

the show is mostly about ruolai's growth in the central bank and the shift of his political beliefs, centred around the kmt and communist party's conflict in that era. the premise of the show is fairly simple - most republican era dramas move in the same direction. this one was well-written, had a solid cast, and beautifully shot.

the development of stn and wrl's relationship in this show was good! it's v shippable, if that's something that is important to you. ngl, i did stay through till the end because these two were so interesting.

we have proud teacher shen tunan who is so so proud of his boy and takes ruolai suit-shopping and tells him how special he is :

starry-eyed disciple wei ruolai who would literally do anything for shen tunan:

he really does mean it when he says that. he gets tortured and thrown in goddamn jail for shen tunan, and he just bears it all and doesn't let himself react in any manner that could harm shen tunan.

i started this strictly for yibo, and had no expectations that i would enjoy it, but guys...........wang yang is 🥵🔥 in this as shen tunan, and this ship just.......sails itself. what else was i supposed to do except go three hundred different levels of ahhhhhhhhh over them.

ANYWAY. strong rec. like at least 8.5/10. even if you're just in it for yibo (who is EXCELLENT in this, the whump scenes are incredible), or if you just want to ship shenlai, the payoff is strong in this.

[pikahlua]

Fourteen Days of MHA: Day 3

Light Fades to Rain

Okay, let's gush. Here are my feelings about the anime adaptation of chapters 360-362: season 7 episode 11. This will quickly devolve from eloquent discussion to raging madness I promise.

The opening five minutes are the weakest part of the episode. This is the only section I will lodge any complaints about, and honestly they're not that serious.

The sadomasochism got toned down :P

I kind of expected it, and honestly I get why. Even though it was scaled back, the scene was effective enough for most viewers because there's just something about seeing it animated that makes it feel visceral anyways. The detail was always going to be reduced in the art when adapted to animation, and a lot of that art could've looked really bad without the necessary detail.

But it wouldn't be on brand for me if I didn't mention that it bummed me out lol.

The only other thing I can complain about isn't even an issue with the episode, it's an error in the subtitles.

"...you're just goldfish poop next to All For One."

a) It should be "One For All," not "All For One."

b) I don't think they should have kept it as "goldfish poop." Sorry to any language purists out there, but the idiomatic meaning of this phrase in Japanese will not get picked up by an English-speaking audience--and that idiom is important. It has an impact on how Katsuki behaves going forward. I think the subtitles should have changed that to something like "a minnow in One For All's wake" or "a tag-along weakling," ANYTHING to get the point across that Tomura is trying to inflict psychological damage by telling Katsuki he'll never amount to anything on the level of One For All. That message informs the rest of the episode!

Now, if that's the only complaint I have about this whole episode--a slightly too-fast-paced-under-detailed opening scene and a bad subtitle--then I'm a happy camper. And indeed that is the only complaint I have.

This episode is a masterpiece of adaptation.

The focus on the Big Three is so good because it does such a good job of masking where the episode is going but it's perfectly in-theme because of the parallels the three of them have with Izuku and Katsuki. IT JUST WORKS MAN. I LOVE IT.

The music that plays when Katsuki mutters is an excellent choice, though I wish they could have done something to hammer the point home more that he was indeed muttering and analyzing like Izuku does. Maybe the little "mutter" text would've been dissonant in tone lol but still I wish there was a way they could've done it. I do think the point does come across in the end still, but it's just more impactful when you get to see the little "mutter" text come full circle. Yeah yeah, manga vs anime and all that.

I didn't expect the tone they went with for Jeanist's reaction to Katsuki's muttering, but it was just different not like bad or anything. I kinda liked the whole "what the fuuuuck" vibe of it. I was thinking more like "Holy shit, I'm a proud dad" tone but this works XD

Jeanist is such a dad.

HE SPARKLE. KATSUKI, HE SPARKLE. IT SO PRETTY. AT LAST.

The animators were SOOOO trying to hide the twist this episode from the anime-only viewers, they didn't even put Katsuki on the commercial bumpers, they didn't want to SPOIL THE SURPRISE. IT'S SO GOOD.

Lost it at Tenko's freak out (damn voice actor wow) and Mirio's "g-gomen." I need the dub of this scene so bad.

JEANIST MY FIRST LOVE, DAD-ING SO HARD ALL OVER THIS EPISODE LOOK AT HIM GO.

Nejire is adorable as hell and everyone in MHA is so easily read as autistic it's remarkable actually.

They really put the typography behind the plasma cannon they actually did that.

UNF THAT PIANO. THE PIANO GOES OFF ALL OVER THE PLACE THIS EPISODE, DAMN.

Also good job on making the plasma cannon blast look small and precise to contrast Katsuki's attack last episode, because Katsuki definitely has more firepower but Tamaki has the finesse to concentrate the attack for a sustained period.

BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS

Everything from BOOTS on is perfection I know you all already know that.

Jeanist's voice acting is underappreciated, I really loved him this episode.

The little special sound effect for his clusters now!!! IT MAKES ME SO EXCITED. I CAN'T WAIT TO SUPERIMPOSE IT OVER KATAMARI DAMACY NEXT SEASON

Present Mic with the La Brava's-Love-quirk soft narration omg [chef's kiss]

OKAMOTO. OKAMOTO OH MY GOD. YOU GIVING ME FEELINGS WITH YOUR VOICE CRACKS I CAN'T SLEEP

The slo-mo shots are so pretty ;_;

THEY GAVE US MORE KUDOU TOO AND IT WAS SO GOOD, THE CONNECTION WAS DRAWN SO WELL BETWEEN HIM AND KATSUKI I AM LOVING IT SO MUCH. IT ALSO HELPS THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING AUDIENCE UNDERSTAND THIS IS DEFINITELY THE AFO-DOMINANT PERSONALITY NOT TOMURA.

Even if this series ends without explaining it, I'm going to come up with my own explanation for that vestige world shit. That cannot just be symbolic afterlife bullcrap. IT MEANS SOMETHING.

He's just a boy ;_; He's just a baby boyyyyyy

GIVE HIM HIS AUTOGRAPH BY THE END OF THIS SERIES SO HELP ME--

he spin thru the air like a meme

It's time for Horikoshi's favorite character: Bakucorpse!

You wanted the blue sky gone, but at what cost?

YES I'M LOVING THE VIBE FROM THE THUNDER SOUND

Oh...oh it hurts a lot to see in color, oh he's so pale...ohhhh no

THAT ENDING SONG? NOW? HOW DARE.

That horrifying feeling of emptiness at the end :)

The joy of watching others cry over this 👀

Katsuki is the actual symbol of hope I don't care what anyone says. All hope of victory is lost with his death and the only chance of winning comes from reviving him with the literal power of hopes and prayers and wishes. He is Hope Incarnate. A very Sassy (Soft Precious) Hope Incarnate.