#blind y/n

[kiruamon]

Don't wake me up AU - Sketch dump

Like promised a bunch of sketches for this au. Aaaaalso you can find some side notes between the pics. If you want to know more about this au check out the introduction post if you like. I use dwmu au as a tag for this au if that helps anyone to find it easier.

Taking a stroll with Sun in a whimsical dream full of stars.

The rings on Moon's cap give of a soft glow just like his little lamp.

Uh... well... a lot of eyes... I was thinking that maybe this could be like a gimmick that comes into play when Moon gets very upset.

Oh-oh. Your mood is making the dream realm shift and it's affecting Sun. (Slowly transitioning into Moon.)

Not in a good place at all. Lashing out at Sun but also feeling sorry for it afterwards.

If your whole world revolved around colors and shapes. How devastating it must feel if that's taken from you?

Not so great first meeting with Moon. And you totally misinterpreting the situation. Oops.

Getting some comfort from your grumpy but soft boyfriend dream guardian.

He does have a pretty smile when he shows it.

Back in reality there is someone there for you too.

Touching Eclipse's face for the first time with his consent. The rays feeling so familiar to someone you know... Also the bells on his cap and wrists are not only letting you know where he is but also that he is there which feels comforting in itself.

As scary as things might seem with these three at your side you will be alright.;)

[stylesispunk]

Blind faith | Series

priest!joel miller x nightclub dancer!reader

warnings: age gap, religious conflict, crisis of faith, temptation, forbidden attraction, forbidden romance, eventual smut, social expectations, night life themes, contrast between joel's and your world, protests, mentions of exile, mention of politics.

wc: 23k (so far)

status: in progress

chapters:

chapter i

chapter ii

chapter iii

chapter iv

chapter v

chapter vi

chapter vii

chapter viii

chapter ix

Summary: Joel found you on a quiet evening when the chapel was empty, save for the flickering candlelight and the faint scent of incense clinging to the air. You were curled up on one of the wooden pews, arms folded beneath your head, chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep.

He cleared his throat, but you didn’t stir. He hesitated before reaching out, tapping your shoulder. “Miss?” His voice came softer than he expected. “You can’t sleep here.”

"Father, do you always wake up strangers like this?"

Your voice was thick with sleep, eyes blinking against the dim glow of the chapel’s candlelight. The air smelled of old wood, wax, and something faintly metallic, like rain on stone. You looked young like this, your face soft, but Joel knew better. You shouldn't be older than thirty.

"You can’t sleep here," he repeated.

Joel stood over you, stiff-backed, his fingers still hovering near your shoulder from where he’d tapped you awake. He shouldn’t have noticed the way your legs stretched across the pew, the way your blouse—too sheer for a place like this, shifted as you moved, leaving no place to imagination.

"Didn’t know God locked His doors at night," you mused, rubbing at your eyes.

Joel exhaled sharply. Lord, give me patience.

"This isn’t a shelter," he said. "If you need a place—"

"I'm not homeless" Your tone was firm, final. But there was something else in your voice too, something he couldn’t quite place, but it hinted sadness.

The world outside was changing. Women weren’t quiet anymore. They weren’t soft in the way people in towns like this expected them to be. And yet, there was something about you that didn’t fit the mold of rebellion either. You weren’t a girl searching for trouble. You were a woman who had already met it.

"I just got into town," you admitted after a beat, glancing toward the stained-glass windows, dark now with the night. "Didn’t know where else to go."

Joel studied you, his chest tightening. "Are you in trouble?"

A small, humorless laugh left you. "Depends on what you call trouble."

Silence filled the chapel, thick and unmoving. The rain had stopped, leaving only the distant hum of the highway beyond the hills.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said finally. But his voice had lost its authority, had softened just enough that he felt the weight of it settle in his own bones.

Because the longer he stood there, the clearer it became.

You weren’t just a woman passing through.

You were trouble to his faith.

And trouble, he knew, never left quietly.

And worse, he couldn’t ignore the way, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure if devotion could save him.

.....

[deceptiveshadow]

we like memes

[deadghosy]

OMINIS & SEBASTIAN WITH A BLIND! READER HEADCANNONS

A/N: can be seen as platonic or romantic

If you aren’t as skilled like Ominis, you best hope you had a blind cane. And that cane was Sebastian. Or you did actually have a blind cane.

Ominis could try to teach you if you want. He wishes you could see the same way he can. He will be very happy to teach you dear

You three holding hands. It’s just funny because Ominis can see for himself while you can’t really so Sebastian suggested this

If someone dared to take away your walking cane. Sebastian is literally going feral as Ominis just holds your hand while Sebastian handles the situation “well”

Sebastian or Ominis reading to you during study hall

Ominis tries to help you use your wand to navigate in the dorms as Sebastian just watched from the beds

Let’s say you accidentally fell down the stairs. Well lets just say the boys got so over protective that Sebastian suggested to piggy back you for the rest of the year

It was absolutely embarrassing and Ominis didn’t say a damn thing

Sebastian probably gets a hufflepuff to make you guys bracelets to show how powerful your friendship is. “Friendship is magic!” havin ahh 😭

When you guys cuddle, you are in the middle just being wrapped around by the boys arms

Two golden retrievers + one black cat. And you already know who is who 🫶🏾

Sometimes Sebastian is the best to the two of you. Like he is always giving good descriptions on what is happening. He likes seeing you smile at your own imagination. So he describes your smile towards Ominis who also smiles at the thought of you smiling.

[binisainz]

lucky taps ⸻ 𐙚 ⸻ carlos sainz x reader

word  count.   2.8k feat.   established  relationship,  fluff,  semi-long  distance,  labubu  hate author's  note.   binisainz  finally  having  a  cs55  fic  up  ??  i  never  thought  i'd  live  to  see  the  day  !!  anyways,  this  is  based  on  this  photo  of  carlos  carrying  a  popmart  bag  in  shanghai  and  i  was  like.  ok  bet.  i  am  exposing  my  love  for  popmart  blind  box  figurines…  i  have  spent  too  much  on  these  mfs  so  i  might  as  well  make  a  fic  out  of  it  !!  dedicated  to  the  lovely  kae  ( @tsunodaradio  ) because  they  suggested  the  ending  and  i  was  like…  no  ure  right  …  ure  so  right  . anyway qotd what do u think carlos sainz is collecting check out the rest of my work !!

carlos comes home the same way he always does— keys clattering into the dish by the front door, a deep sigh like he’s clocking out of being carlos sainz and back into being just yours.

“mi amor?” his voice drifts in, laced with just the slightest bit of confusion.

“yes?” you don’t look up from your phone, lazily stretched out on the couch, one leg bent at the knee, fingers absently tapping at the screen.

you hear him step closer, the shift of his weight across the hardwood, the quiet pause that comes before— “why is there a little… scarecrow on the coffee table?”

that makes you glance up, just in time to see the small furrow in his brow, the way his mouth presses slightly at the corners. you shift, propping yourself up on your elbow to follow his gaze.

“that’s my hirono,” you say simply, as if that explains everything.

carlos blinks at you, then at the figurine, then back at you again. “your what?” he asks as he bends down, takes the figurine in his hands, turning it over carefully, examining the details. he treats it like something delicate, like maybe it’ll break if he looks at it too hard.

“hirono,” you repeat, dragging out the syllables, already predicting the conversation to come. “it’s a blind box figurine. you buy it without knowing which one you’re gonna get.”

his brows draw together, deeper this time, the gears in his head visibly turning. you can see the exact moment it clicks— there’s a small flash of realization, the barest twitch of his lips. “so you just��� pay for it and hope you get the one you want?” he asks, skeptical.

you grin, shrugging. “pretty much.”

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he sets the figurine back down with the same measured care. “you could just buy the one you want,” he points out, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“where’s the fun in that?” you shoot back, sitting up fully now, tucking your legs beneath you. “it’s about the thrill. the suspense.”

he looks at you, the soft tilt of his head betraying the fact that he’s still trying to wrap his head around it. “so you like not knowing?”

you hum, considering. “more like… i like the moment before, you know? when it could be anything.”

carlos watches you for a beat longer, then shakes his head again, a small, affectionate smile tugging at his lips. “you are impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no real exasperation in his tone, only fondness. then, without hesitation, he leans down, cupping your jaw gently as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, as he’s done a thousand times before.

a few days later, you come home with two more boxes, setting them down on the kitchen counter with a flourish. carlos, sitting at the island with a half-eaten banana in one hand, eyes them with mild suspicion.

“again?”

you huff. “yes, again. but this time, you’re doing it with me.”

he chews slowly, watching you like you’ve just presented him with some grand experiment. then he swallows, licking a bit of banana off his thumb. “what am i supposed to do?”

“first,” you say, grabbing a box, turning it to its side where twelve colorful iterations of the same character are drawn, “we have to pick which ones we want.” you tap one illustration, and then the next. “i want the mantel clock or the circus one.”

he barely glances at the options before pointing decisively at the secret figurine.

you snort. “that one has, like, a one in a hundred forty-four chance.”

he shrugs. “so?”

so, nothing. he’s already made up his mind. and you know him— you know he’s stubborn enough to manifest his own luck, to tilt the universe in his favor through sheer force of will.

“okay, but now we have to do lucky taps,” you say, passing him his box.

his brows furrow. “what?”

you demonstrate, tapping your fingers rhythmically along the sides of your own box. “it’s for good luck. you have to do it.”

carlos stares at you for a moment, unimpressed, then down at his box. he exhales, then mimics your movement, albeit a little clumsily, his fingertips drumming against the cardboard. “this is silly.”

“yeah, but now you’re invested. committed, even.”

you grab your phone, setting it up to record. “okay, let’s do this.”

the sound of crinkling plastic fills the space as you both peel open your boxes. you pull yours out first. a tiny alien stares back at you. your face immediately drops.

“ugh,” you groan, sagging against the counter. “literally the only one i didn’t want.”

carlos makes a sound, half-laugh, half-smug amusement, as he inspects his own. you glance at him, then do a double-take.

he’s holding the secret figurine.

you jaw drops, eyes quickly darting from looking at him, at it, at him again. “are you kidding me?”

his expression shifts slowly into that familiar smugness, the kind that makes you want to shove him. he inspects the figurine like it’s some grand prize, turning it between his fingers, lips curving into a grin. “i thought this was supposed to be rare,” he says, all false innocence.

“it is,” you grumble, crossing your arms. “but of course you would get it.”

carlos sets his box down on the counter, hand reaching out to pull you closer. “mi amor,” he murmurs, his voice dipping just enough to make something curl in your stomach. his hands find your waist, fingers pressing lightly, teasing. “don’t be upset.”

“i’m not upset,” you huff, but you are pouting, and you know it, and he knows it, and he’s enjoying this far too much.

“you can have it,” he offers. “would that make you feel better?”

you exhale, slow, exaggerated. “it’s not as good as pulling it myself,” you admit, just a little petulant, but then you soften, leaning into him despite yourself. “…but okay.”

he laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple, and just like that, the loss doesn’t sting quite as much.

at first, it’s funny. cute, even. carlos, for all his teasing, starts showing a little too much interest in your blind boxes. it begins small—offhand questions here and there, the way he lingers just a second longer when you’re opening a new one, watching your reaction like he’s pretending not to care. but then it escalates.

he gets way too into it. concerningly into it.

it’s not long before you catch him scrolling through an online store at breakfast, staring at the thumbnail images of different collections with a furrowed brow like he’s analyzing race data. another time, you hear him mutter something about “box weight ratios” under his breath while holding one up at a shop.

the moment you call him out, he waves it off, says he’s just doing it for you. “you like them, no?” he says, kissing the side of your head like that’s the end of the conversation. “i just want you to get the ones you like.”

except, somehow, the ones you like aren’t the only ones he’s getting.

the 2025 season starts, and it doesn’t take long for fans to catch on. one race weekend, he’s photographed carrying a popmart bag in the hotel lobby. the next, someone spots him in the paddock, a tiny figurine peeking out from his backpack. the internet is quick— memes start to circulate, threads pop up analyzing every single one of his figurine choices. he keeps claiming it’s for you. he really does. but you know better.

“mi amor,” he complains one night, sprawled out on the hotel couch beside you, scrolling through a list of upcoming releases. it’s one of the rare times you join him for a grand prix. “all your hironos look the same.”

you gasp, smacking his arm. “excuse me?”

“they do,” he insists, grinning when you glare at him. “little hats, little sad faces… no difference.”

you roll your eyes. “okay, mister ‘i only buy these for you.’”

he huffs out a laugh, still very much pretending he’s doing this entirely out of love for you. but you bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

and it comes, two weeks later, when he’s japan, and you’re on a late-night video call together. he’s lounging in his hotel room, hair still damp from a shower, dressed in one of his old team shirts. you’re curled up in bed, listening to him ramble about his day when something on his bedside table catches your attention.

a fucking labubu box.

your eyes narrow. “oh, so you say my hironos all look the same, but you like labubus now?”

carlos freezes, eyes darting to the box behind him like he forgot it was even there. then, without missing a beat, he leans forward, grabbing it and holding it up to the camera. “but, mi amor, look! they have different colors!”

“oh, and my hironos don’t?”

he shakes his head, clearly enjoying himself. “not like these, no.”

you let out an exaggerated, scandalized gasp, dramatically flopping back against your pillows. “i can’t believe this betrayal. all this time, i thought you were supporting me, but now you’ve chosen a side— and it’s the opposing side, mind you!”

carlos chuckles, setting the box back down, his voice dropping just slightly—playful, teasing. “you love me anyway.”

and, well. he’s right.

it turns into a thing. somehow.

your comments section floods with people asking for your favorite figurines, demanding to know which sets you’re into. you give them a list, thinking nothing of it, just casually mentioning your favorites. but by the next race weekend, fans are already showing up with those exact figurines, handing them to carlos at every turn. multiple people. at different times.

there’s a video you find later of him grinning, holding up one of the boxes, murmuring a— “thank you! mi corazón would love these…”

the last part, the way his voice drops into something softer, something warm, plays on loop in your head as you scroll through tiktok later that night. you hover over the like button for half a second before giving in, adding a comment:

yourusername   i do like it! please make sure he doesn’t hog it all to himself 😀

the internet, as per usual, goes crazy.

carlos is in miami, and you’re in monaco, which means the time zone gods are, once again, are against you. it’s late— too late— but your phone rings anyway, and you already know what this is about before you even pick up.

you rub at your eyes, propping your phone up on the pillow as carlos holds up his latest haul to the camera, grinning. “look, mi amor,” he says, adjusting the lighting so you can properly see. “i found peach riot!”

you squint. “you don’t even like peach riot.”

he waves you off. “sí, sí, but they had them at the store, and i had to try.”

you groan, shifting deeper under the covers. you know exactly what this is. it’s not about the figurines, not really—it’s about the thrill, the rush of unboxing something, the chase for the rarest one.

carlos digs through the bag, holding up a single box. “okay, i’ll open just one.”

you sigh, heavy with sleep. “baby, it’s almost 2 a.m. for me. can you please just open it?”

he gasps, offended. “well, no! i have to do lucky taps first!”

of course he does. he’s fully committed now.

you watch, exasperated but endeared, as he taps the sides of the box in that almost ritualistic way you taught him— except he’s exaggerating it, dragging his fingertips along the sides with a level of precision that is, quite frankly, unnecessary. he’s doing too much. and yet, you can’t bring yourself to stop him, a soft, tired smile on your lips.

“okay, okay,” he murmurs, hyping himself up before finally peeling off the plastic wrap and tearing the foil packet open. you blink, barely able to keep your eyes open, as he peers inside. his expression shifts—eyebrows jumping, mouth parting slightly before curling into an all-too-smug grin.

he flips the figurine around to show you. the secret. your smile immediately drops.

you let out a long, suffering groan before immediately hanging up the call.

curse you, boyfriend luck!

he calls back not even a minute later.

you answer, squinting at him through the screen, still burrowed under your blanket. carlos, barely holding back laughter, holds up the figurine again. “corazón,” he coos, all sweet and coaxing. “do you want it?”

you glare. “it’s not the same if i don’t pull it myself.”

he pouts, tilting his head. “but i’ll give it to you.”

you bury your face into your pillow, groaning again.

monaco feels different when carlos is home. the apartment, normally so quiet when he's away, hums with the warmth of him— his shoes by the door, his jacket slung carelessly over the couch, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. it’s a race weekend, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re both in the same city again.

it also means carlos is finally seeing, with his own eyes, just how out of hand things have gotten.

a small corner of the living room— what used to be an empty space, clean and minimalist— is now home to a shelf. a full - on shelf. dedicated entirely to the growing collection of figurines you and carlos have amassed over the past few months. rows and rows and rows of figurines now meticulously arranged by series.

you stare at it, arms crossed, lips pursed. carlos, standing beside you, mirrors your stance, rubbing his chin like he’s assessing a piece of fine art.

a long silence stretches between you before you finally say it: “…are we addicted?”

carlos tilts his head, considering. then, without missing a beat— “no.”

you shoot him a look.

he grins. “just committed.”

the blind box obsession wanes, thankfully, though it's not out of disinterest but out of practicality. the season is in full throttle now, the races stacking up one after another, and you’ve been following carlos around the last few stops, which means any new purchases would just be another thing to stuff into an already overpacked suitcase. there’s no time to carefully stack boxes into the shelf back home.

which is why, when you open your eyes on your birthday in your las vegas hotel suite and find a blind box set sitting in front of you, you burst out laughing.

carlos, kneeling in front of you on the couch, looks incredibly pleased with himself. “feliz cumpleaños, mi amor,” he says, watching you with that warm, expectant gaze of his.

“oh my god,” you breathe out, picking up the box, flipping it over in your hands. “carlos.”

it’s not just any blind box set. it’s custom. you look at the packaging, the familiar yet unfamiliar design, and then you see it—your name, carlos’ name, and little illustrated versions of you both printed on the side, mimicking the style of an official collection.

upon closer inspection, the potential figurines include versions of you in your favorite outfits, carlos in his williams race suit, casual wear, even one of him holding a miniature trophy from when he finished p1 in barcelona. there’s even a secret edition, blurred out in a question mark like a real chase figurine.

you blink at it, overwhelmed, before looking up at him. “you got us made into blind boxes?”

carlos grins.

“how?”

“i have my ways.” he shrugs.

“you have a full racing calendar.”

he shrugs, like organizing a fully custom blind box production in the middle of a title fight is just a casual side project. “i planned ahead.”

you shake your head, flipping the box around in disbelief. “you’re actually insane.”

“open one.”

you tear into the packaging, ripping the foil open with probably more force than necessary. the little figurine falls into your palm, and when you turn it over, you nearly lose it. it’s you, down to the details of the outfit you wore the first time carlos ever took you to the paddock, your hair styled just right, the tiny features painstakingly accurate, even if it's just a stylized version of you.

you stare at it, and carlos leans in, nudging your shoulder. “cute, no?”

“carlos.”

“hmm?”

you exhale, shaking your head, but you can’t stop smiling. “this is insane.”

he leans back against the couch, smug. “you love it.”

you narrow your eyes at him. “don’t act like you didn’t make yourself the secret edition.”

his expression doesn’t change. “i am a rare find.”

you shove him, and he laughs, catching your wrist, tugging you into him. “okay, okay,” he concedes, pressing a kiss to your temple, his voice softer now. “but i wanted to give you something special. something just for you.”

you glance down at the box, the tiny, perfect versions of you both, and something warm settles in your chest. you shake your head, exhaling through a smile. “you really are addicted.”

carlos grins, tilting his head. you’re already leaning in, just slightly, like he’s some gravitational pull you’ve long since stopped resisting.

 he meets you halfway, his breath fanning against your lips as he murmurs— soft, smug, as he goes: “eh, just committed.”

[gardentool]

Y/N: *reaches over and takes Nanami’s glasses*

Y/N: Do I look cute with these on?

Nanami: I wish I could say yes, but I can't fucking see.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Cup Of Sugar

Deadpool x Reader x Wolverine

Authors Note: Since Yall finally see the beauty of Poolverine, you finally get some stupid fluff. Here ya go

Sum: You were neighbors with Blind Al, and that chaotic son of hers. Recently you’ve been hearing alot of noise, and figured you check on them both. Like a good neighbor. Seems to have been just the right time

Warnings: Fluff, canon typical violence, Logan and Wade being so gay in their own way, Blind Al being a total wing woman, dogpool aprecitation post, family fluff because god dammit Mama Blind Al and her sons boyfriend with their new dog domestic fluff is needed!

“Will you two knock it off! I don’t need another damn couch in this house-!” You would hear Al shout. Not the first time, but the noise seemed so much more wild as of recent. Like some kind of badger was joining the party. Couldn’t help it with your worry. She was blind after all. So, here you are. Knocking on her door.

“Get along-! Well, or like STOP GETTING ALONG-!” You heard her snapping, before yanking the door open. “The hell you want?” She asked, before you would clear your throat.

“Hey Miss Althea-!” The moment she heard your voice she had softened into that motherly state she always had for you. Not many people in the complex really enjoyed her company, or her son’s, but you always took the time to say hi to her. Not treat her any less inferior because of her blindness.

“Oh hey baby! Come on in, get in here-!” She just beamed, and laughed. Happy to have someone new to talk to. Can get lonely, after all. From many of your conversations with her, when helping her take the groceries to her apartment, her son Wade was often on business trips. Nice to have some company.

Inside was certainly a chaotic mess. You swore someone ran around like a Tasmanian Devil in there. Pictures asque, cushions everywhere, a couch shredded like it was thrown in a blender. You were wondering what the hell happened. Was it a break in? Had you worried sick, before a bark caught your attention.

“PUPPY-!” You couldn’t stop yourself from squealing, as you knelt to the floor. Right next to the dog in her dog bed. All snuggled with plushies of what you guessed were her favorite heros, and seeming to be the one area of the apartment that escaped this fire. Least whoever attacked the home had some kind of morals.

“That ugly thing? That’s ’Mary Puppins’ as the dynamic duo calls them. She that ugly kinda cute. She always knows when you need someone to cuddle, that’s for sure. I ain’t complaining. Nice having company.” Al would explain to you, as you were hypnotized by her cuteness. Had her cradled in your arms, and giving her all the belly scratches.

“She’s perfect.” You cooed, as you gave her fluffy head a kiss. Had her barking happily at your attention. Seemed said barking finally got the attention of the two rascals in the home. A bickering of panic French was held, before you turned your head. As to see what the French was going on.

“Hey-“ A burly man would wave, before seeming to shove the other person into a bedroom. In some kind of mad panic, as if to hide them from you. For some reason.

“Oh, hey. Uh, hi.” You would stand up, Pup in hand, as you registered what you were looking at. He wasn’t the tallest man around, and honestly? Might be even shorter than yourself. Didn’t take away the fact he was built like a truck. Somehow all tucked away behind a torn up wife beater and jeans. Looked like he had been fighting someone with a set of knives. On top of knives. With more knives.

“That’s Logan. My kids new boyfriend.” Al would brush off casually, as she would find herself towards the couch. Just to sit there, and most definitely keep an ear out for the drama to happen now.

“We aren’t….It’s complicated-“ He tried to explain, before said Wade popped his cheery ass out. Having been in such a rush to join the party, he was wearing his shirt backwards. You would argue his boxers to, but a puppy keeps anyone’s attention.

“Oh hey! Peanut, that’s our neighbor. About time you met the sweetheart. Don’t do anything Logany. Or do, kinda a freak. Just saying-“ He would nudge at the shorter man, as said man rolled his eyes.

“Hey Wade-! When did you get this little girl? And uh, the hell happened here?” You were pretty used to Wades insanity at this point, hence why he called you a freak (in that sweet way endearing way) so maybe there was an explanation on all this.

“Thats Mary Puppens. The sweetest shit stain around. We got her from uh….A cousin. Passed away. Terrible terrible. Can’t have her left alone.” Wade would explain, as Logan would walk over. Gave the pup a gentle scratch under her chin that made her shake her leg just right. She clearly loved her new parents dearly.

“And the mess here?” You would raise a brow, before Wade tugged at his collar. That’s when he noticed it was backwards, and kept himself busy with fixing it. Left Logan to have to bite the bullet.

“….Redecorating…..” Logan offered, as you just stared at the two. A brow raised, as you didn’t buy it for a single second. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to fall for the ‘put on a hat and jacket and suddenly you can’t make out a superhero from a crowd’ trope. Something suspicious was going on.

“Just be direct, will ya?! If anyone can be trusted it’s gonna be that there sugar.” Al would practically scold the two little dumbasses. Just like a mother would to her so , and his boyfriend, who were trying to dance around a topic.

“Are you two super humans of some kind? You don’t have to tell me more. Just….Dont wanna worry about little Pup here and Al. Ya know?” That seemed to make Logan pause. As if your kindness, and realness, was a shock to have. A welcomed one, but you’ll still get caught off guard if you ate trash and suddenly had a pallet cleanser of lime sherbet shoved in your mouth.

“Do you mean super human as super human, or super human like mutant powers, or super human like experimented on, or super human like as a-“ And Logan promptly smacked the back of Wades head. Treating him like a skipping record. Had you giggle, since now you didn’t have to worry about the violence. Able to comprehend they just don’t feel pain like others.

“Super human is all that needs to be said, bub.” Logan warned him, as he held up his fist. You thought to punch, but you swore the top of his hand was twitching. Not like a muscle spasm. Way too uniformed. As if three veins were bulging. Maybe it was better not to question it.

“Now, why are you even here?” Logan would try his blunt coldness on you, but living next to the likes of Wade doesn’t really phase you. This was a world of super heros and inhumans. Can’t scare you that easy.

“Came to check on Miss Althea. Heard a ruckus, that was louder than normal, so I came to check.” That had Logan scoff. To hear you being so ‘brave’ and coming over to the source of the noise. A admiring ‘so dumb but in a brave way’ admiring.

“He’s still grumpy from the turbulence, if you will-“ Wade would jazz hands, as if knowing things that no one else shouldn’t. He always did act like that. As if he just knew how the world worked better than others. You found it more so endearing than creepy, like others did.

“Oh! New here? Well welcome! Oh, maybe I can show you around? Wade and I know some pretty cool places. Oh! There’s a dog park that’s built for dogs who need more special care than others. We can all go there with Miss Puppins!” You were rambling like Wade, but had the clarity of Logan. A beautiful combination. One that had the two men smitten.

“Fuck yeah we can go to the dog park. Get dressed, Showman, come on-!” And Wade was running off to get changed. The typical attire of hoodie, face mask, glasses. Just layering. You didn’t find his skin disgusting, but given the world’s issues with pandemic it can’t be helped.

“Great, now you got him started again-“ Logan would complain, yet was already grabbing his leather jacket. Complaining, yet clearly willingly excited all the same. Just in his own way.

“Would you like to join us, Miss Althea?” You asked her, which gave her a bit of a surprise. You wanted her to come along? She normally never tagged along on things like this. Yet, you offered. Even though most times she would say no. Not this time.

“Someone needs to make sure you assholes don’t get into more shit.” She smarted off, but was already standing. With the help of Logan, of course. Just in time for Wade to return.

“Come on disabled gang! Let’s go!” He would clap, as Logan just kept rolling his eyes. You yourself were excited, and leading the charge now. All with Miss Puppins happy in your arms. So happy to have a big family to take her on adventures.

Nothing more sweet than a happy pup.

[beethatwee]

My version of Briar :)

Listen, @naffeclipse you are always giving so many different flavors of Eclipse and you SERVE every single time. I am not at all normal for gorgon Eclipse! I wanna kiss all his snakes! He deserves all the softness and love

This story has me in a chokehold and I’m so excited to see where it goes

[vrystalius]

Something I thought about his how Nam-gyu // Player 124’s actor (Roh Jae-won) wears glasses in real life. What if Nam-gyu also needs glasses because he’s really, really farsighted but never wears them?

Like he’s not wearing his glasses because they don’t fit his style and he can’t really afford contact lenses, so basically have to call out object right in front of him so he can see them.

Nam-gyu would grab a can of beans, hold it upside down and stare at the barcode, trying to read the ingredient list with squinted eyes and slightly agape mouth. You couldn’t bear to tell him that he looks like a wet rat when he does that. “Hey, this is that canned cake or whatever, right?”

He’d bump into all kinds of things too even if they are right in front of him and literally furniture. Closets, doors, doorframes, you. Nam-gyu would always curse the poor object out because how dares the doorframe stand in his way.

Except for you of course, when he bumps into you he gives you a small and quick kiss.

[magiclostinfantasy]

Blind Date || Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing, Draco trying to play matchmaker Summary: Y/N and Theo's friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they've secretly been dating.

<><><><><><><><><>

Theodore Nott did not go on blind dates, never felt the need to. He liked to believe that he could pull any girl he wanted. After all, who could resist that handsome face and Italian charm?

So, it came to him as a surprise when he found himself seated at Madam Pudifoot’s tea shop, sipping earl grey from a dainty, white teacup. He had been sitting at an intricately decorated table, looking like an idiot for the past fifteen minutes, waiting for his date.

Theodore wasn’t sure how he had let his friends convince him to go to this. He wasn’t sure why he had. He had a girlfriend for god’s sake- not that his friends knew. So, it really wasn’t their fault, he supposed.

His eyes scanned his surroundings, noticing all the lovey-dovey couples seated around him. He was painfully aware of how sad his situation looked. A handsome young boy sitting alone at a table for two in a restaurant full of happy couples. He groaned internally. Where the fuck was his date?

Just as he decided to leave, the door of the tea shop was thrown open. He turned around to see what the commotion was about and saw none other than his girlfriend. Y/n L/n.

Her eyes were blown wide, chest panting as she tried to catch her breath. Theodore’s face lit up as he saw her. She looked gorgeous - out of breath and absolutely gorgeous.

Y/n’s eyes locked with his as she scanned the crowd and a confused look crossed her face. Muttering apologies to everyone, she made her way over to him.

“Theo? What are you doing here?” She asked, sitting down across from him. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of her boyfriend. He grinned, offering her some tea. 

“I’m here for a blind date.”

She scoffed in amusement, taking the cup. “Me too.” 

They sipped their tea, eyes meeting as they did and a burst of laughter erupted from them both. Their friends had set them up together! The absurdity of the situation hit them like a spell gone wrong.

The couples around them looked over at the unexpected outburst, eyebrows raised in part curiosity and part irritation. Theo and Y/n couldn’t stop their laughter, though. This situation was just too funny!

Y/n wiped away a tear, her smile wide. “Bloody hell. This is not what I had been expecting.” She shook her head.

“Neither did I, love.” Theo agreed, his laughter dissolving  into a warm smile.

Their friends had no clue they were dating and had decided they would be the perfect match.

“Clearly, those idiots don’t know us as well as they think they do,” Y/N replied, chuckling. “But it’s kind of sweet.”

Theo nodded, his eyes gleaming. “How about we head somewhere more… comfortable?”

Y/N smirked, rising from her seat. “I know just the place.”

Leaving Madam Pudifoot’s behind, they strolled through the chilly streets of Hogsmeade.Their cheeks turned deep red as the cool night air hit them.

As they approached the Three Broomsticks, Theo couldn’t help but press a gentle kiss to Y/n’s forehead. He grinned as he remembered the moments the two had shared. The stolen kisses, the shared laughter and the secret dates, all kept hidden from their friends.

They found a cosy corner in the pub and settled in. The atmosphere was a nice change from the tea shop. It was all lively, with sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful banter filling the air. The couple ordered butterbeer and raised their classes for a toast to the turn of events.

Back at Madam Pudifoot's, their friends all sat dumbfounded. Draco, the mastermind behind the date, gaped at Theo and Y/n as they got up and left together. 

“Shiit. Did we miss something?” Pansy asked, nudging Draco’s side. She glanced around at the others who seemed just as confused. Blaise shook his head, grinning. “Looks like the little lovebirds have plans of their own.”

With that, the friend group left the tea shop, deciding to head to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate with butterbeer.

As Theo and Y/n continued to enjoy their company, a group of familiar faces burst through the door. They spotted each other, surprised faces morphing into amusement.

Mattheo sauntered over to the couple, a teasing look plastered on his face. “Would you look at what we have here? Care to explain, lovebirds?”

Theo and Y/n exchanged humoured looks before bursting into laughter again. It seemed that their friends had accidentally created a reunion instead of a blind date.

“We’ve been dating for a year, you oblivious idiots.” Theo exclaimed, wrapping his arm around a giggling Y/n.

Draco pouted, turning to Pansy. “I think we might need to brush up on your matchmaking skills.”

Pansy raised a brow at him. “Bitch, you mean you need to brush up on your matchmaking skills.”

The group rolled their eyes as they continued bickering. Squeezing in, the Slytherins joined the couple in their booth and The Three Broomsticks became a mere backdrop.

Enzo raised his butterbeer in another toast, “To surprises and these two lovey-dovey shits.” He winked. He was met with cheers and smiles from the group. Theo and Y/N exchanged a glance, their hearts swelling with happiness.

As the night drew to a close, the group left the Three Broomsticks. Theo and Y/N walked side by side, their fingers entwined.

“I’m glad this happened. We don’t have to be a secret anymore.” She whispered to him. He nodded, squeezing her hand. “Me too, love. Me too.”

[lazyjellyfish300]

lightning strikes twice 🖤⚡🎲

Synopsis: it all began with meeting Nanami Kento at a ruined MCR concert one night in Vegas that was as fleeting as it was passionate. But, sometimes fate has a funny way of repeating itself when he shows up as your blind date years later.

words: 11.8k

CW: x FEM! READER, READER IS SHORTER THAN KENTO WHO IS 6'0 AND HAS CURVES. College age emo!Kento, Post Shibuya scarred!Kento, SMUT(69, virginity loss(kento), protected p in v, elevator makeout), READER HAS SOCIAL ANXIETY, DRUNKENESS, ALCOHOL, SMOKING, ANGST, FLUFF.

a/n: written for @thesoftuglywrites for @unintentionalseductress blind date valentine's event. I profusely apologize for being late again.😭😭 I hope this is worth it!! 🫶🏽 I have two versions, this is the more general reader version and then there's the oc reader version based on your description.

No need to read both if you don't want to but I thought I'd include them both just in case. 🙂‍↕️Thank you so much for having me & reading in advance. 💕 dividers by @/saradika-graphics pics from Pinterest. My emo!Nanami inspiration as always: @actuallysaiyan.

@ambiguouslady42

Can lightning strike twice? Can the same piece of Earth be hit in such perfect succession as no coincidence of nature? Is such a formidable force destined to repeat itself despite the miracle of happening in the first place?

It is a rare occurrence, you would guess, and that is what many scientists would tell you. So, how can it be, as you stare, dumbfounded at the man across from you on a night like tonight, so similar to one you encountered him years earlier?

A face you knew once, intimately, similar, but the full weight of the time that had passed between you slowly became realized the longer you stare at one another, almost like he’s brand new.

A moment back then that was just like this one. A second strike of lighting landing directly in the same spot.

Maybe it can after all.

—---

Years earlier

It was spring break. When the temperature warmed up and the sun stayed in the sky a little bit longer. That trademark feeling of youth crept in the breeze that blew in your hair that felt like freedom with the weight of academics temporarily forgotten. You slowly worked up the bravery to take advantage of it while it lasted after a long, lonely winter of being frozen and cooped up in the same place.

That's how you found yourself on a plane to Las Vegas with a bunch of friends with unwise decisions brewing and holes burning in your pockets.

Every cell in your body was telling you that this was a bad idea. Normally the idea of going out would make your skin crawl and fill you with the exhaustion of running a marathon before you even stepped out of the house.

But FOMO would be an even more difficult force to contend with. Add the fact that My Chemical Romance was playing in Vegas, and that feeling tripled until you had no choice but to cave in and get through the vacation to the best of your ability.

As you got ready with your friends in your hotel room and jumped into the Uber, you prayed for the best and plastered on your best fake-it-til-you make-it-mask that you prayed would last the entire evening.

—-

Kento feels massively out of place in this endless sea of people. Doing his best to not let his attention linger on the strong stench of body odor, cheap liquor, and perfume, he absentmindedly bounced his knee as he surveyed the area around him, wondering how much longer he'd have to put up with the crowd before the show would finally begin.

This had all been Satoru’s idea, spending spring break in Sin City. He and Suguru were attached at the hip, of course, while Shoko and Utahime were in some kind of their own secret club, leaving him the odd man out. The fact that MCR was one of his favorite artists of all time was about the only factor keeping him here, aside from the unfortunate fact that he was effectively trapped since they were his ride.

“Nanamiii-PSSTT!”

Kento's eyes widened as he watched Satoru and Suguru roll like secret agents underneath the red ropes to the VIP section while Utahime giggled and looked around, holding them up as Shoko slid through, before following after.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me…” Kento grumbled and felt his stomach turn, looking quickly both ways to make sure the coast was clear before darting in as well before he could be seen.

—

It feels like an eternity that you've been standing in this same spot. You're excited for the show, but you were slowly being put to the test the longer you stood packed in like a sardine in an overheated and very loud tin can. Your friends are chatty with excitement due to the anticipation as well as the alcohol they snuck in, too preoccupied with taking selfies to notice your building distress.

As your social battery rapidly depleted, you feel yourself start to go nonverbal as you began envisioning how much better the air conditioned hotel room with some greasy food and a good nap sounds, and a sense of dread settles in your body because you don't want to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity to see MCR in all of their glory live.

“Give me one of those.”

You order one of your friends to hand you a mini bottle of Crown Whiskey, and they cheer you on as they watch you throw it back. The alcohol leaves a trail of fire down your throat and your body feels tingly, warm, and numb as it begins to work its impairing magic.

“Girl! This way!” Your friends call for you as they begin disappearing in a mischievous chain inside a random opening in the crowd.

Eyes watery, you grab the clammy hand of your friend who's bringing up the caboose right before she's lost in the crowd, letting them drag you to who knows where without a word of protest.

—--

Shit…oh, shit.

Coming to the realization that you and your friends illegally infiltrated the VIP mosh pit is not one you want to make while you're becoming more and more intoxicated. Judgement blurry, mind in a boozy haze where you couldn't think straight, you toss back one more mini bottle and that's when you clap eyes on each other.

“Sorry.” Kento mumbles as he feels himself stumble backwards into someone, and turns his head momentarily in half-hearted acknowledgement. He does a double take, and his pupils almost comically enlarge as the fact that the person he stumbled into isn't just some forgettable stranger, but a rather beautiful one, smacks him in the face.

The way that surprise was worn on your face as a sweeping dash of warmth spread across it that only complimented the sheen of the glow on your skin that was brought out by the stage lights, the way your hair fell around your face like petals framing the exquisite flower in the middle.

But, most of all, your eyes, the roaring depth of your irises echoed the other ethereal qualities about you that vacated his brain of all trains of thought like a vacuum of space.

An unexplainable force of nature that can only be likened to that first strike of lighting that smites him where he stands and his lips part a little.

The force does not go unexperienced by you, either. He's tall, and slightly lanky with skinny jeans and a black concert t-shirt to match. He has silky blonde locks with bangs that fall in his face that slightly cover one of his eyes that are subtly traced in eyeliner just around the edges that makes them pop. His gaze is gentle, contrasted with eyes an intense shade of amber brown like pools of darkened honey. He emitted an aura that was shy, reserved, and awkward even.

In a nutshell, he was absolutely perfect.

“Sorry,” he murmured again, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“It’s okay.” You reassure him. The alcohol has gone to your head, making you uncharacteristically chatty. “What's your name?”

The pink spreads to his cheeks as he leans in again for you to repeat your question over the noise in the venue. “Hmm?”

“What's your name?” You repeat closer to his ear.

“Kento.” He answers you, a little louder.

You beam, and that first glint of your smile sends a shudder through him. You were trouble.

“Yours?” He asks, since it was only the polite thing to do.

You give him your name and then more questions slip out from your loosened barrier. “Where are you from?”

“Japan.” He answers. “Japan.” He repeats when you lean in to hear him better.

“No way?” You answer, an incredulous look on your face as you gave him another disarming smile. “Spring break as well?”

“Yeah.” He nods in the opposite direction. “I'm here with some friends.”

“You seem like you don't belong here either.” You tell him.

He can't contain his blush yet again and shrugs as though you saw right through him. “Big crowds aren't really my scene.” He pauses, slightly at ease by your statement. “Not yours either?”

You shake your head profusely, grinning as you fan yourself a bit with your hand. “Fuck no. I'm trying to fight the urge to get out of here.”

The corner of Kento's mouth twitches a little in sympathy. “I hear you on that.”

The silence lingers between you for a moment, but neither of you want the conversation to die just yet.

“I’d stay if I were you, since you probably spent a lot on a VIP ticket. I would imagine.’ He adds quickly, not trying to appear as though he was prying in his statement.

You throw your head back and laugh. “Uhm, I didn't, actually.” You lean in to divulge your secret. “Technically, I'm not really supposed to be in here, sooo…” You nod in the direction of security.

“Ha, me neither.” Kento confesses with a chuckle.

“Hey, I won't say anything if you don't.”

Kento looks down as you offer him your hand, blush appearing yet again on his face as he accepts in a clammy handshake. “Deal.”

The lights go out and deafening screams echo throughout the venue as fog fills the stage. The crowd surges forward and you and Kento cling onto each other as it sweeps you up like a treacherous wave. The drums pound in your ears as Helena starts to play.

You can't help the butterflies that erupt all over your body as you're thrust into Kento's space and he can't either. But, right now as the music plays, you figure you'll just blame the lack of distance between you on the crowd.

You both bob your heads as you sing every word. You sneak glances of one another every so often, looking over at him, carefree and the most bubbly state you've seen him in all night as the lyrics you both know and love tumble out like muscle memory, broadcasting that gorgeous elusive smile of his that he tried so hard to hide in the beginning.

He also looks over at you, lost in the music with your eyes closed, hands in the air as you move to the beat. You both might still be considered strangers, but he can't help but feel like whatever connection that was drawing you to him ran much deeper than just passing acquaintances at a concert. Even though you were shy, your disposition was sunny and kind, almost like someone he used to know.

You trade small talk where you can between songs. Slowly, you piece together that he's also in college, loves the same music as you do, although you both would much rather stay in the comfort of your rooms and not leave the house.

It's almost uncanny, you think to yourself when he reveals that he also adores reading, though he'd rather opt for historical fiction or classic literature as opposed to your preference for fantasy. Though, he hates to admit, some of the romance isn't all that bad.

About halfway through, your view gets a bit obstructed by some taller attendees that stand in front of you. Kento clears his throat, wondering if he should say something, his fists growing sweaty again as he wrestles with how to breach the silence.

“Oop, my bad.” You giggle and he goes breathless for a moment as you use him as a wall to lean against as you try to stand on tiptoe in vain.

“Need a boost?” He asks shyly, nodding in the direction of the stage.

Warmth spreads through your body when you realize what he's asking. “Oh no, no I couldn’t.”

“I insist.” He nods.

“I don't wanna crush you!” You mouth to him over another roar of the crowd.

“You won't.” He answers assuredly, scooping you closer without a second thought. He stands you in front of him, slotting you between his legs, letting you balance your heels on his feet as a built-in chair, enabling you to see much better from where he's standing.

For someone who was a bit lanky, he's actually quite solid, and he smells intoxicating, a new brand of electricity ebbing and flowing between you as you adjust to this closeness to each other in which your personal space has all but disappeared.

Kento's face burns with a fever, but it dissolves into relief when you're finally in his proximity. A feeling of protectiveness fills him from the warmth you emitted from standing so close, the very faint waft of your floral shampoo that still lingered in your hair.

“Hey!”

Dread seeps in both your expressions as you realize you're right next to security and not wearing VIP wristbands.

“Run.” You mutter to him and before you know it, you're darting through the crowd propelled by nothing but pure adrenaline and the impaired judgement of alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Oh shit!” Kento curses but has no option but to follow after you, his own adrenaline banishing all rational thoughts for the time being as you both bobbed, ducked, and weaved through the crowd like a sweaty obstacle course of chaos until you make it to the finish line.

“And don't come back!!” The head of security shouts as you make your great escape into the night.

You both stumble onto the street, panting and breathing heavily as your heartbeats slowly return to normal.

He looks at you and you can't help but burst into raucous laughter, holding your sides as you felt like they were being split open.

“What's so funny?” He huffs but he can't help his own fit of giggles that slowly overtake him. The sound of your laughter was funnier than the non-existent punchline, and soon you both have tears leaking out of your eyes and sore ab muscles as you laugh together in disbelief.

“I'm sorry.” You sigh, throwing your head back as you dab your eyes with the back of your hand. “I just, that shit was unbelievable… You should've seen the look on their face.”

“I didn't.” Kento scoffs ruffling his hair. “Because you practically yanked my fucking arm off.”

You seize in a fit of laughter again and he shakes his head.

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry.” You take a deep breath. “Really I am, cause I fucked up our night.”

“You think?” Kento asks you in mock disbelief.

“Okay, okay, now I really do feel bad.” You kick a pebble, trying to wrack your brain for ideas.

Kento shrugs. “It's alright, I guess.” He thinks for a moment then shrugs again. “Wouldn't be the worst night I've ever had.”

“Yeah, what was that?” You ask, curiosity piqued.

Kento pauses as he recalls his past night-outs gone wrong, but then lingers on the haunting memory of his true answer, cold walls of the morgue and a stale smell under his nose, a wet towel splayed across his forehead.

“Never mind, don't answer that.” You raise a hand as you sense his mind traveling somewhere far off, and he nods quickly in agreement, shaking himself out of that dark place.

“Hmmmmm…” you tap your chin as Kento retrieves a cigarette from his pocket, cursing when he can't find his lighter Suguru must have taken for the umpteenth time.

“Got a light?” He asks.

“Yeah I got you.” You take out a purple one from your bra cup, and Kento does his very best to ignore how warm it still was as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” You reply with a thoughtful hum. “Well, there's always Fremont Street.”

Kento exhales a plume of smoke, and you do your best to hold his gaze, knees growing a little weak at how handsome he looked with the clouds of smoke around his honey eyes, cigarette balanced between two long, dexterous fingers.

“Fremont Street?”

“Yeah, I hear there's usually lots going on. We could wander, get some drinks. On me, of course, because I fucked up our concert.”

Kento shakes his head. “I can't ask you to spend money on me.”

“I insist! It's no big deal, really.” You state firmly, hoping he’d cave in. “Let me make this up to you so your trip to Vegas doesn't suck entirely.”

“Hm.” He pauses, looking around. Part of him was simply still in shock that someone as pretty as you took such an interest in someone as awkward and shy as him. Were you still tipsy from earlier?

“What about your friends?”

You sigh and shrug. “They'll be fine. To tell you the truth, they probably didn't even notice I was gone.”

Kento extinguished his cigarette against the side of the building, nodding in solemn solidarity before tossing it into a nearby receptacle. “Me neither, if I'm being honest.”

A part of your heart pangs a little with sadness at this revelation from him. How could anyone not find someone like him as a person they'd want to be around all the time? Besides, this whole situation was crazy and a little reckless, spending an evening in Vegas with some guy you barely know. But somehow, in its own odd, messed up, and chaotic way, it makes more sense to you than anything you've done on this entire trip.

“So, Fremont?”

That glimmer in your eye was so enticing, the spring breeze blowing wisps of your hair under the flashing neons. Was he really about to spend his last night in Vegas with some gorgeous stranger?

Well you know what they say: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

“Fremont it is.” He agrees with a hopeful smile.

—-

Fremont Street, like the rest of the city, is alive as ever.

Flashy animated graphics illuminate the ceiling of the street experience, with cartoon bunnies and brightly colored flowers dancing across it in a hypnotizing light show in the spirit of the incoming Easter holiday in America. People mosey past, many of them intoxicated, with boisterous laughter and drunken yells. Street performers line the open space: contortionists, musicians, magicians, and scantily clad show girls with almost nothing left to the imagination.

There are several stages playing live music, small audiences built up around them while some patrons hollered and raised their glasses from their patio tables of the numerous outdoor restaurants and bars, a mixture of tobacco,marijuana smoke, and opulent lights pouring out of the open casino doors on every corner.

You and Kento stand there, mouths agape, fascinated by the display as you observe and take it all in for a few moments. You spy a vendor who sells frozen fruity alcohol slushies that come in the outrageously tall plastic cups and your mouth waters.

“Want a drink?” You nudge Kento and he looks where you're focused, his eyes lighting up at the fruity concoctions.

“Y-Yeah, let's do it.”

—

Kento feels like a kid in a candy store as he walks the street with you, peering into the numerous gift shops as he sipped his piña colada and mango tequila slush with a curly straw as he watched you sip yours(paid for him despite your protestations), unknowingly endearing yourself to him by the minute as the slush turned your lips and tongue red.

It was a feeling of being carefree that he hadn't felt in so long, something he only got to experience in fleeting doses ever since he started school at Jujutsu High and he had to take on more responsibility than the average person at his age.

And that happiness became all but foreign to him ever since tragedy struck a few years ago and he had to eventually start college, barely moving forward while his mind still lingered in that dark space. But here, in the flashing city lights of Vegas, somehow you make it all vanish.

He's ripped out of his thoughts as you hold up matching I love Vegas hoodies.

“Can we get 'em, Ken, please?”

And who is he to say anything but yes to any silly, wild demand you make of him tonight?

Maybe except to going on the zipline.

—

“No way.” He shakes his head as you stand in front of the large marquee that read: “Slotzilla” in green letters. “There's no way that we're doing this.”

“You scared?” You ask him, voice playfully laced in a teasing taunt. The alcohol was working both of you into a pleasant buzz, but such a proposal was crazy enough to make even Kento think rationally for a moment.

“I'm not scared. I just think you're bluffing.” Kento folds his arms defensively.

“But it's Spring Break.” You answer, and you can't deny there's just a tiny shiver of fear that pulls at you as you look up at the riders flying by above your heads on the ceiling, taking in how high up you'd really be.

There's no denying the booze was turning you into a whole different main character tonight, but by God if you'll let anything else ruin this vacation for you after you fucked up the MCR concert for both you and Kento.

“I'm sure. C'mon, let's do it once, just so we can say that we did it and we'll never do it again.”

Kento swallows, keeping his eyes on the towering zipline.

“Together?” You ask, offering him your outstretched hand. His expression is reluctant at first but a grin of mischief spreads across his lips as he accepts his fate with a solemn sigh.

“Together.”

—-

“Allllright, you'll wanna stand right here where my foot is, yep, right there in front of the sign so we can take a picture of you and your girlfriend.”

The attraction worker moves Kento right next to you. Butterflies fill your stomach first as he wraps an arm around your waist, and his second when you lean into him with your hands on his chest, even more so when you don't correct the worker at all when she refers to you as Kento's girlfriend.

“Cuteeee!” The worker beams and snaps a photo of you, and you can't resist pulling one another even closer so your arms are wrapped around his neck and his hold around you is even tighter, with his chin leaning against your forehead as you posed for a few more shots.

Soon, you and him are bobbing in midair, lightly suspended over the platform in your respective harnesses, hands still intertwined as your hearts raced in mutual anticipation for the go ahead.

“Last chance to back out.” You grin, giving his hand a squeeze.

“No way. You wish.” Kento huffs returning with a squeeze of his own. “I'm all in.”

“Okayyy lovebirds, you're gonna have to let go of each other's hand for just a moment. I know, ugh.” The worker announces over the loudspeaker.

You both give each other bashful looks as you let go, and speed off down the ziplines.

The flashing lights blur past your vision as you become weightless, gliding and flying across the dome of Fremont Street, wind in your hair as the air of the nighttime floods your senses, a wave of adrenaline that bleeds into a fleeting glimpse of eternity as you watch Kento, beaming wildly with freedom as you two zip across the buzzing street below.

“I'm flying!!! Whooooo!!” You cheer with elation and Kento giggles beside you, going breathless for a moment, the cause he can't trace exactly to the adrenaline, or to how stunning you look in this moment, just like the one at the concert, where every answer to every question he's ever had somehow lies in those bewitching eyes, sealed permanently in your lips that bore solutions to his every problem.

As you both come to a halt and catch your breaths as you walk down the stairs and back onto the street, you can't help but feel closer than ever as you walk hand in hand, as though you've been doing this for ages long before tonight.

“I'm hungry.” You state as you both come to a stop in the middle of the street.

“Hmm…” Kento can't deny the rumble in his stomach either, his eyes perusing the choices available until they land on a neon orange sign. “How about some White Castle?”

“Yes pleaseee.” And he beams as you both follow the trail of the distant smell of fresh french fries.

—-

Soon you're sitting across from each other in the burger joint, splitting a sleeve of mini cheeseburger sliders and some freshly salted crinkle cut fries, feet touching under the table, sharing some more meaningful conversation about the latest anime you're both into, sipping sodas until you've eaten so much you can barely move.

—--

The night feels like it's winding down a bit, but the tension has only amped up to undeniable levels. It almost hangs in a cloud around your heads, as you walk to a less busy corner and stop to stand in front of one another, too afraid to confront the obvious question about how it would end.

“Well then.” You sigh and Kento puts his hands in his pockets, nervously fiddling with the pack of cigarettes. “I um…I should probably be getting back.”

Kento can't deny the wave of disappointment he feels, but he clears his throat in a weak effort to keep it from showing on his face.

“Yeah, of course.” It was foolish of him and kind of a douchebag move after all to assume you would want to go back to his hotel room, despite this accumulation of events tonight that makes him feel like he's known you for much longer.

“But, I could make a detour…” You give him a shy smile and he can't stop the disappointment from turning into obvious excitement on his face.

“Really?”

God, he was adorable without even trying.

“Of course.” You smile as the spaces between his fingers find their way between yours. “I'm okay with it if you are.”

Kento swallows. It's probably a horrible time to drop the very teensy but extremely important tidbit about him that he's actually a virgin. But, he doesn't want to let this opportunity to spend more time with you slip him by. The reality that you'd have to go back to your separate lives tomorrow was one that he'd just have to contend with in the morning.

“Definitely, let's go.”

—--

The Uber ride feels like an eternity as you sit in the backseat, thigh to thigh. The intoxication from the alcohol earlier has now been replaced with intoxication of the late hour, and the tensions that were at a boiling point and threatening to spill over with the implications of what would happen when you got to his hotel room.

His lips part softly, pretending to stare ahead as he realizes the circles you're drawing on his thigh are brushing dangerously closer to a spot he really wants them to go.

You lean in, pressing your lips to the vein in his neck as your pinky meets the inside of his thigh, and he has to clench his fists and bite back a sigh when you run the expanse of your palm over the outline where his cock throbs under the fabric.

He pulls you out of the Uber with an urgency you hadn't seen all night, a smirk on his lips as he leads you to the elevator, almost as though he was stirring up a plan for revenge for all the teasing you did in the backseat.

But, it seems you're both on the same page. As soon as the doors close, you pounce on one another immediately, a passionate meeting of lips and soft groans, and hands sneaking under clothes as you grabbed and stroked one another as though the closeness alone wasn’t enough to sustain you, and you had to consume one another to get some semblance of completeness.

The taste of his lips surpassed anything you could have expected. They were soft and messy, with just a bite of chill lingering on them from the cold of outside you just emerged from. His mouth is so addictingly sweet, a mixture of the tobacco he smoked, and the lingering pineapple and tequila as you kiss one another deeply in the ascending elevator.

You taste just as perfect, he thinks. Your lips are still laden with the subtle gleam from your chapstick, the sweetness from your drink intermingled with the promise of so many possibilities, like stepping into the sun after years of living in a world where it hid behind unmoving clouds of grey, the smoothness of your skin and how it seemed to melt into silk underneath his touch, his mind slowly going delirious until nothing but you occupied it, doing his best to use what little function he had left to take a mental picture he could retrieve at a later time before it slipped away from his grasp.

“Kento, put your hands on me…” you pant, bringing his hands higher up under your shirt until they reached your breasts.

“Oh God…”

He groans at this permission as he feels your nipples harden and pebble. He watches your back arch responsively to his own doing, almost going faint from the heat of it all whose intensity that he had never encountered before, before he goes back to concentrating on kissing you while carefully kneading your breasts.

You notice the walls of the elevator are mirrors, and you feel your descent into lustful arousal needlessly deepen as you open your eyes intermittently during this heated makeout session, observing how far gone he was to the throes passion with his eyes closed and a look of pleasure spreading quickly across his face, this normally shy and quiet guy you met hours earlier as he allowed you to peel back all his layers, revealing how pent up and aching for you he really was.

The doors open with a ding and you almost topple over on each other when a stunned older couple is standing there, shell-shocked. The shade of red he turns is deeper than a tomato, and you both sweat profusely, doing your best to revert to normal, though both of your disheveled appearances aren't fooling anyone.

The woman is clutching her pearls, averting her eyes with a disapproving tsk of her teeth and grumbling under her breath. The man gives Kento a sneaky pat on the back and a thumbs up as they shuffle into the elevator and close the doors behind them.

“What just happened?” You ask, out of breath as you make the walk of shame hand in hand down the hall to Kento's hotel room.

Kento dismisses the humiliation of the incident that was still fresh in his mind, and he wraps an arm around your waist, turning a bright shade of cherry yet again. “Umm, let's just forget about it.”

“Good idea.” You chuckle.

—

You splash a bit of water on your face, staring at yourself in the fluorescents of the hotel bathroom while he waits outside.

You tapped your fingers on the granite countertop, shaking your head as you stressed over your hair, a bit mortified that you were in this less than ideal state for the majority of the evening, trying your best to fix it.

Somehow, you could deal with your fears of being in public, talking to this handsome stranger, yeeting yourself across a zipline over a hundred feet in the air, and making out with him in an elevator. But ironically, this was by far the scariest thing you were up against all night long.

Finally, you gain some semblance of a grip, and take a deep breath.

“Don't be a coward.” You mutter to yourself as you slowly consolidate whatever scrape of bravery remains.

—-

Kento bounces his knee, staring at his faint reflection in the black TV screen, almost jumping when you open the door.

You ditched your jacket, he notices, as you slowly make your way towards him, the shadows of your curves being hugged in all the right places in the dim light of the lamp on his nightstand. He swallows as he lets his eyes roam, mouth watering as his lips long to be on yours again.

“Hi.” You smile timidly, coming to a stop in front of him, standing between his thighs where he's sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hello.”

His Adam's apple bobs as he cranes his head slightly to gaze up at you, tingles of warmth erupting on both your cheeks as you cup his face, those liquid pools of hazy amber with the power to submerge you from a simple glance. His hands tremble, a little uncertain as he brings them to your waist, already going a little numb at the feel of your softness he got just a glimpse of earlier.

“You can touch me, Kento.” You reassure him and his eyelids droop, his breath shuddering as you run your hands along his chest. “Can I touch you?” You check in with him, emotion welling inside his heart when you give him the sweetest kiss on the forehead.

“Course you can.” He answers softly, giving you a smile. You gaze down at him as you run your fingers through his hair, gently massaging the back of his neck, a hint of hesitation you can't help but notice still hangs between you.

“Are you sure?” You ask, leaning your forehead against his, as if to soak up any worries that were brewing in his mind. “You seem hesitant.”

Kento sighs, a bit of shame filling him. It's almost spooky, how well you can see through him. He silently dreads the truth that he knows he needs to come clean about, knowing there's a possibility he might lose you tonight before he even had a chance, not that he'd blame you one bit for backing out.

“Um, it's just that…I'm a virgin.” He says quietly.

You sit there for a moment in disbelief, taking a moment to process his words. “Really?”

Kento nods, the silence a bit unbearable as he holds his breath, unable to discern what you were thinking.

“Hey, that's okay it's just…”

He braces himself for the worst, averting his gaze to a spot on the carpet.

“Hey, it's perfectly fine.” You answer, turning his chin to look at you, your heartstrings tugging in response to his weary expression. You can sense the weight of the effort it took him to be vulnerable with you in this moment, something you won't take for granted. The implication of grave responsibility on your part in response to this new information is a lot to take in, but for him, you'll do your very best to rise to the occasion.

“That doesn't bother me at all, Kento. I just want to make sure that you're sure about all this. We don't need to have sex. But if we do, then I want to make sure that you're a hundred percent comfortable, and we can stop at any time.”

Relief floods inside of him like heavy rain, his heart immediately growing much lighter in his chest.

“I'm positive.” He gives you a reassuring grin. “I have protection too, just in case.” He blushes a little, all the anxiety quickly giving way to arousal at what was to come next.

“That sounds perfect...” You lean in and kiss him, the soft smack of your lips echoing in the empty space. You hold your face close to his, hearing him inhale softly as your lips linger closely together, not wanting to part just yet.

He makes the next move, leaning back in and capturing them again, his hand finding residence on the back of your neck. All bets are off now as you take that as permission to deepen the kiss, albeit slowly as you don't want to rush perfection, letting him soak in and experience his first time the way it was meant to be: tender and meaningful.

“Help me?” You gesture to your clothes. Your doe eyed expression sends him reeling, your lovely pout with wetted lips, the built up warmth between you only made the natural glow of your skin stand out even more like it was matter from displaced stars in the scarce light. The number of times you've rendered him speechless is practically innumerable by this point, but he nods earnestly again, not allowing himself to be derailed from his mission.

“Of course.”

The act of undressing you is slow, and a little shaky on Kento's part, but still every bit as sweet. You shudder a little as he gently peels your shirt from your body, entranced as your hair spills out of the opening, your bare breasts bouncing free from the cups of cloth in a hypnotic sway.

You can't remember the last time someone took their time with you like this. Hands that were usually impatient were replaced by his: tentative and nervous, but sweet in a way that was uniquely his own. Eyes that would devour you like a piece of meat with little regard to the soul underneath your exterior were replaced with the caring chestnut of his. His gaze was chaste, but only sensual when you allowed him to be. He looks at you like you were a piece of art to be appreciated first and foremost, and explored only second. From the invisible halo over your head, to your shoulders, to your breasts, to every curve and dimple that flowed to your voluptuous hips, now presented completely bare before him.

It's all you can do before your lips are immediately on his again with a newfound hunger, more strained under the building weight of passion you longed to burn inside this room together.

“Kento…” You whisper his name as your lips work their way away from his, leaving kisses in a heated path starting on the corner of his lips, to the juncture underneath his sharp jaw, and his throat that thrummed as your name left his lips in heady abandon.

He practically whimpers, his cheeks painted in that dusty pink you’ve come to adore so much on him. He was slightly embarrassed at how pathetic the sound was, but a low groan rumbles from the center of his chest, and his thumb grazes tenderly over the point of your chin when you don't seem to give a damn. If anything, you're even more aroused from his pleasure which is just as good as your own as you begin to slink lower down his body.

“Can I?” You purr as your hands pause at the studded belt buckle.

“Go right ahead.” His mind temporarily factory resets as he feels it unravel through the loops, the sound alone adding fuel to his fire as he scoots back a little more on the bed to allow you to straddle him, sliding his jeans down his long legs.

He's so hard in his boxers, and this preview of his size in just his underwear sends immediate warmth to your core. He blushes and can't help the feeling of self consciousness creep up on him as your eyes rake over him, wondering how on Earth all of him will fit if your eyes really weren't playing tricks on you.

Once he helps you strip away the confines of boxers, your suspicions are reaffirmed as his large erection bounces free, uncut and heavy, the tip a darker shade of pink than the one that so often showed up on his cheeks.

Despite his obvious well-endowment, the sight of him naked, laying there like a god, hairy in all the right places, a divine masterpiece of lean muscle with an even more dazzling soul underneath, didn't even begin to scrape the surface of wonderful things about him.

“You can touch, i-if you want…” Kento prays that he doesn't come off as perverted from this statement. Intimate touches like yours were a foreign concept to him. But, still he couldn't evade his desires and would often daydream about what such an experience would be like. It's all so surreal in this moment that might be coming true tonight.

“I'd love to.” You whisper, pulling another melody of moans out of him as you stroke. He's incredibly warm and responsive as he pulses and twitches in your hand, the evidence barely concealed in a blooming trail of precum flowing from the slit, coating your palm.

“But let me take care of you too.” He whispers sheepishly. “To be honest…I, I dunno if I'm gonna last so, s-so I wanna do what I can to make sure you get taken care of too…”

His honesty is endearing, and you can't deny that the pornographic image that his words conjured up in your mind is a deeply arousing one.

“You want me on top?” Your tone is sultry and the effect your mere words have on him are very apparent as his cock throbs again, leaking another bead of pearlescent precum from the bulky tip of his cock and drooling all over your fingers.

“Yeah…I mean, yes please.” Kento’s heart rate begins to accelerate, breath becoming irregular before it departs his lungs when a literal goddess is now on top of him, your juicy ass and glistening pussy spread to his hungry gaze.

He is equal parts enthralled and impossibly turned on as he gazes at the lewd sight in front of his face, followed by a low stirring of pride to his ego, knowing from the presence of your shiny slick that he could have that kind of effect on you.

It's an experience that almost borders on religion for him as he marvels in silent worship what you're so willingly offering to him in this precious moment.

“You're perfect…” He mumbles, as all other words seem to fail him at this time. Despite your numerous assurances, he still hesitates.

“And…I can touch, too?” He asks gently, swallowing a lump that he didn't realize had built in his throat, hands hovering over the globes of your ass.

“Yes, baby. I want you to.” You coo as you situate your mouth over his cock, pressing a dainty kiss to his tip that ripples in chills all over his body. Your first use of a pet name for him almost wrecked him on the spot. Getting used to the idea of being desired by someone was a concept he still had a long way to grasp. You can sense it, and right now, you want to do everything you can to make him utterly drown in it.

“Still okay?” You check in with him and he nods. You lean down, pressing little kisses in a circle around his tip, sticking out your tongue to caress and lick near his slit before you take him in your mouth.

The next moan that Kento makes is downright sexy, low and breathy as the plush, silky inside of your mouth swallows him whole.

“Fuck…me…”

Somehow, heaven for him appears just around the corner, his resolve crumbling exponentially every second that passes, his long fingers bruising into the soft flesh of your ass. It exceeded anything he could have expected, and he can only imagine how warm and perfect your pussy must feel if this delectable sensation was only from your mouth.

You lick and massage all along the forest of veins that run vertically along his cock before wrapping your entire mouth around his tip and bobbing your head in a rhythmic pattern, making sure you're not neglecting his heavy balls and the underside of his shaft you goad with your free hand, using the slick mess of drool and precum to keep him nice and wet.

He begins with slow, careful kitten licks to your syrupy folds, eager to deliver on his promise he made to you, before he lengthens his strokes and makes them more relaxed as he delves deeper into your drooling cunt, exploring the folds and crevices of your velvety warmth, wincing and groaning as he feels his balls tighten as his release creeps up on him even faster, his low husky sounds causing you to drip and leak more creamy nectar onto his tongue.

You feed off one another’s energy in lewd exchange, the more he savors your dripping cunt in prolonged fervid strokes of his tongue, the deeper you try and take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suckle and swirl your soft tongue over every inch of him you can reach, relishing the tang from the wafts of his natural scent from his pubes.

“Shit..shit, I'm gonna…” His stomach muscles tighten, unable to hold back his release for much longer.

He decides to do something he saw in porn, using his fingers to rub and circle over your warm clit, alternating using his other fingers and tongue to fuck you. You stop dead in your tracks and moan like a siren, your rousing gasps intoxicatingly angelic.

“Ken…”

There was no way a guy as inexperienced as him could be so damn good at this on the first try. But then again, he was full of surprises as you came to discover tonight, this one being no different.

He's patient and a speedy learner, something you pick up on as he focuses on just you for the time being, curling his tongue in just the right squishy spot inside you, inhaling deep breaths of your slick as your honey coats his jaw and chin, your cunt clenching tightly and leaking more juices with every careful flick of his tongue and massage of his fingers on your clit.

“Cum for me.” He mutters and only seconds pass until you do, and your beautiful climax is the straw that breaks him, hot cum dribbling in warm trickles down his thighs.

He seizes up when he feels your smooth mouth envelop him again, practically dissolving into a fit of twitches as you lick him up, cleaning up the milky gloss and swallowing him down your throat.

He leans in and does his best to clean you up too, his tongue tracing in warm trails between your inner thighs, collecting and slurping your juices into his mouth.

You roll off one another in a shaky mess and he stumbles to the bathroom, returning with a few fluffy towels as you help one another wipe up.

—-

You're underneath the covers now tucked against his chest. You can measure the slow, calming thrums of his heartbeat where your head is resting, a cozy feeling settling inside both of your bellies as this eventful evening draws closer to a close.

“Stay the night?” He asks, fingers dancing featherlight across the smooth skin of your shoulder.

“Absolutely.” You respond, turning to him and pouting your lips.

He smiles as he leans in to fulfill your request, giving you an adorable peck that lingers, once again begging to be more. He was tired, but now he figures he's got another good half hour or so in him if you're not opposed.

You take the lead, opening your lips and depositing the softest of moans into his open mouth that drip with sinful implications. He gets the message immediately as he rolls on top of you. The weight of his body, careful not to crush you and feeling of his cock lengthening and pressing against your belly makes you widen your thighs to welcome him, his tip oozing again already as you softly run the bottoms of your feet up and down his calves.

“Do you still want to try?” You gaze up at him from where he's positioned, long bangs falling in his face as he leans over you, caramel eyes somehow even softer in this moment if such a thing was even possible.

“I…I do. But only if you do.” He answers.

“I do.” You nod before puckering for one more kiss. He can't help his smile as he leans in again, the simple gesture feels awfully domestic, a simple demonstration of how comfortable you became with one another.

You bite your lip as he carefully slides the condom over his swollen length, taking the liberty of helping him out by playing with your pussy while you watch him in a trance, taking note of the smallest things about him: the tendons flexing in his arms, the spotting of freckles across his shoulder, the meat of his thighs, his strength that was ever present that made him look so majestic, so beautiful in this intimate setting despite his lean frame and dark clothes he had on earlier that concealed it. All of him, every inch of his beauty was plain as day as you inhaled him like the purest oxygen.

—

“Kento…”

He begins to push the tip of his cock into you, cradling your head in his hands.

“You okay?” He murmurs, the fog of lust was intoxicating, but not strong enough to not check on you, particularly after he knew it was a struggle for you to take all of him.

“I'm…perfect…” You whisper before your breaths bleed onto his lips in another stolen kiss.

“Fuck, you're good, so good… I'm gonna…gonna start moving…”

He mumbles haphazard words of praise as his body ripples slowly against you in a gentle dance. Both of you are long gone as you settle on a tempo together, hands intertwining against the mattress, cementing the memory of your hair and the way it looked against his pillow, that inimitable glint in your eyes like no other he's seen at the very moment you became one.

Time is a concept, a pest, a nuisance that has its place in the dreaded morning that you both pray never arrives. The things that currently matter inside this cocoon of warmth between you is pure carnality, absolution in the tender pace of his thrusts, euphoric release that fans the flames at the base of your spines as you stretch and clench warmly around him, his thumb thrumming in infinite circles on your clit to open you up even more when you struggle to take him, amorous moans and endless spilling of the others name, this piece of himself willingly, permanently, and hopefully entrusted to you.

“Gonna cum...”

His salty ropes eventually dribble into a final act of undressing his soul, filling the barrier between you, your cries swallowed into the hollow of his neck.

—--

The sun springs itself onto you without warning.

You sit straight up in a frenzy, heart sinking to your chest when you notice that the hour said you only had 30 minutes until you needed to leave for the airport, and had over 10 missed calls from your friends.

You dart around the room, cursing and seething the time that pulled the rug out from under you. Robbing you of the slow moments you were supposed to share with him this morning until there was nothing left, and you had no option but to leave him stranded.

You look at him when you're fully dressed, peacefully still asleep, trying to stifle the overwhelming sadness when the harsh pain of the cruel reality of living on opposite ends of the world becomes too much to bear.

As a final act of desperation, you jot your phone number on a stray piece of paper, folding it and leaving it on the desk.

You can't bear to look at him one more time, not noticing the wind from the closing door behind you sweeps the paper under the desk and out of view.

—----

He had never been in love, but somehow within the span of one night you brought him the closest to feeling it that he's ever been, while simultaneously depriving him of it in the same breath.

Sadness stings in Kento's chest as he sits on that long flight home, doing his best to hold back any tears as he replays the memory of you, which for now you'll remain, before it gives way to bittersweet gratitude. Whispering a silent “thank you” which he only hopes can reach you some way, wherever you are now.

He was grateful he was lucky enough to experience it, even if it was never meant to stay.

What happens in Vegas, stays there after all.

—-----

Years later-Japan

This bar that Shoko recommended is far too loud, but the drinks are fairly decent.

You tap your foot impatiently, staring at the clock on the wall that seemed to stay in place, taking out your phone to check the time as though that would make any difference.

Agreeing to a blind date felt so…juvenile. Almost desperate, even. Love was something you put on the back burner when negative experience after another slowly turned you off to the idea of it entirely.

But, there were good ones that were few and far between that had you holding out hope. Enough remained that led you to agree to this silly date, after all.

But you didn't like to linger on those memories, one in particular that was approaching the 10 year mark during one spring vacation in Vegas. Every now and then, you'll allow your self-restraint to slip and you'll daydream about that blonde man. The kind of lover you meet that's too perfect, that's almost doomed for failure because everything about him was too good to be true and too idealistic to fit into the ugly reality of a long term commitment.

You recall the tears you cried over him and the haunting of the phone call that never arrived. But, you made peace with the ending a long time ago, chalking it up to an isolated experience that was never meant to be long lasting. He didn’t owe you anything after that night, that, looking back, was honestly blurred with bad decisions.

It wouldn't have been practical in either case. Between you both starting college in opposite corners of the globe, you were only barely sticking your toes into the real world that you soon would learn was cruel, cold, and could spit you out as quickly as it swallowed you up.

You should be grateful you even had the opportunity to meet someone like him. Some happiness was better than none, no matter how much you wished at the time that things were different.

And, without even trying, you subconsciously looked for him in every person you saw, but it never came close to that first strike of lighting.

Sure, there were other storms, other wonderful people you met along the way that ignited feelings and taught you lessons, but none quite like him.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, recognizing you're being led by the alcohol in this moment, setting yourself in the opposite direction before you're too far gone, knowing it would be unfair to your incoming mystery date to dwell on loves of your past that need to remain that way.

—---

Kento does his best to stifle his thoughts as he preoccupies himself with his tie, over and through, secured in his usual knot. Routine and order as always, a mere shadow of the young man he once was a long time ago.

He checks the time on the Heuer watch adorning his left wrist, marred in pink scars that peek from underneath his navy dress shirt layered under his tan suit coat. He still has plenty of time, just as he planned. He sighs and looks at himself in the mirror, thoughts somewhere far away as he ponders the true meaning of what exactly he agreed to tonight that was so unlike him.

Was he facing the onset of an early mid-life crisis? Was he in denial about how lonely he really was, causing himself to make decisions uncharacteristic of him in the name of finding some semblance of humanity after going down fruitless paths, chasing aloof ideals like money and honor that left him more hollow than before?

Maybe he was reverting to old patterns, like when he ran away from the world of jujutsu and tried to force himself into a societal standard that was never meant for him?

He can't play mind games with himself like this.

Whether the task at hand was a mission, or something as frivolous as a blind date like tonight, his way of reframing his perspective and focusing on the present moment came into full play.

He nods and studies himself one more time, gaze shifting to where an eye patch now covers where his left eye used to reside, before he turns and walks down the hallway, the quiet click of the door closing behind him.

—---

You had arrived a half hour early, because you knew the only other option for you was arriving a half hour late.

The gentleman you were supposed to meet, according to Shoko, had a preference for punctuality and order. In all honesty, you were probably his worst nightmare in that regard.

Your anxiety about the situation continued to nag you the longer you stayed seated amidst the chatter and bustle of the bar. You bounced your knee, once again daydreaming about curling up in bed and forgoing this ridiculous date altogether.

Just as you're about to bail, he walks in.

The same piece of Earth hit in perfect succession as no coincidence of nature. That formidable force statistically at odds to repeat itself, unfolding before your very eyes as he approaches.

You would not recognize him under normal circumstances. The left side of him has undergone some changes that rattle you to your core as you realize their extent.

His left eye is missing, now concealed behind a black eyepatch. The skin underneath is mangled and pink, but faded in such a way that would suggest that some time had passed since he received them. He walks proudly with a slight limp, an air of propriety and confidence he exudes that's both attractive and extremely jarring in contrast to the shy and insecure version of him you once knew.

It's clear as he takes your hand in his that the old Kento is long gone, but that space in your heart that he latently occupied ever since that night came bubbling, unscathed to the surface.

A night just like tonight, so similar to one you encountered him years earlier. He undergoes the same reel of emotions that zip through him like lightning. The unmistakable hue of your eyes that gripped him the moment he saw them and knew he needed to walk away that night with more than just your name. The promise of your kiss, the way that freedom ran in your hair that decorated his sheets. That happiness he thought was permanently out of his reach that you managed to restore in him that night, leaving him with hope if not anything else.

A face you knew once, intimately, similar, but the full weight of the time that had passed between you slowly became realized the longer you stare at one another, almost like he’s brand new.

A moment back then that was just like this one. A second strike of lighting landing directly in the same spot.

“Hello, my name is Kento Nanami.” He greets you nonetheless in ritual decorum that was instilled in his foundation. His voice is slightly deeper than before, a sign of the mature man he grew into from his twenties.

“Do you remember me?” You ask, trying not to make your tone sound emotional as you feel like you're speaking to the ghost of not quite someone you used to know.

“I do.” He answers honestly, possibly the faint glimmer of a fond look he gives you in the subtle crinkle of the crows feet by his eyes.

Both of you sit in silence while the bar around you carries on, him emerging from it momentarily to order his drink: whiskey on the rocks. You note that his preferences have also changed, hardly believing they belonged to this man who once sipped a fruity cocktail slush with you on the Las Vegas strip.

You ride a bitter tide of emotions, bearing a mixture of sadness, resentment, bitterness, and nostalgia.

Why did he never call?

Instead, you ask him, “How have you been?”

He almost scoffs, as such a simple question requires such a complex answer from him. He keeps it casual for now.

“I've been well. What brings you to Japan?”

“You know Shoko?”

He pauses, slightly confused at how this is relevant, but answers your question nonetheless. “Yes, I do know Shoko.”

“And she…she set me-us, up on this date.”

“That’s how it would appear.” He sips his drink.

You stare, confounded at him, a bit miffed at how…nonchalant he was about the entire situation. But a part of you also was slightly relieved that he didn't make it as awkward as it needed to be.

You narrow your eyes. “Are…you using sarcasm?”

“I'm not, I'm merely agreeing with your observation.” He raises a brow as he looks at you. He seems genuine and you blink, a little embarrassed now at your question that you hoped didn't come across as an attack.

“Sorry, I- it's just. There's just so many memories, and I'm still in disbelief if I'm honest with you.” You shake your head as you take another generous sip of your cocktail.

He sits in silence as he observes you out of the corner of his good eye, slightly bemused as it seems some things about you haven't quite changed.

“It's alright.” He answers. “It's quite a lot for me to take in as well.”

“Is it?”

“Well, yes. You're not exactly who I imagined running into here tonight.”

“Mm, then who did you imagine?”

He side-eyes you and you roll your eyes in response, much to his quiet amusement.

“Actually, please don't answer that.”

“I figured as much.” He hums and he leans back a little, and cocks his head while you're not looking. Your charm was certainly one of the things about you he missed. And this bite you possessed was something rather new.

“You know, I enjoy this bar quite a bit, but there's a quieter spot I know of that we could go to, if you're up for it.”

You pause, getting used to this initiative from him that you're experiencing for the very first time. His suggestion is a very welcome one, you can't deny and you nod.

“Very well.”

“Splendid.” He stands, allowing you to pass in front of him first, leaving the cost of both your tabs on the bar as he follows you onto the street.

------

The vinyl shop is nearly deserted as you enter, much to both yours and his relief. It's a pleasant surprise as you take in your new location, the premise of a record store telling you that there were things about him that stayed the same after all, taking you back to that night as one of the things you bonded over.

“This is nice.” You muse, eyes coasting over the abundance of albums available to peruse.

He nods in agreement, also satisfied that you're pleased with his suggestion. “It is. This one has a better selection than most I've been to.”

You browse, occasionally aware of his hand nearly brushing as you pass him in opposite aisles, enjoying the mutual silence as he gives you a moment to recharge and explore the selection of artists since it's your first visit.

There's two elephants in the room, and neither will be easy to address. You still feel burned by him. But, if this was going to be a meaningful attempt at a new start of your relationship, then beginning it from a place of honesty seemed like a reasonable thing to ask of him.

“What happened to you?” You ask gently.

He looks at you. Questions about his looks used to bother him in the very beginning when they were still fresh. After years of healing, both physically and emotionally(which he would argue was the most difficult to recover from out of the two), he's taken emotion out of the equation. And in your case, given the intimate history between you two, despite it occurring almost a decade ago, he recognizes it's a reasonable thing for you to ask.

“Asking the hard hitting questions already?”

You turn your head quickly, a little horrified in case you offended him already, but the look on his face makes you sigh in relief when you realize he was being playful.

“No, I'm-”

“It's alright.” He reassures, resuming your walk along the aisles, putting his hands in his pockets. “For another time, though.” He promises you, and you nod in complete understanding.

“Of course.”

There is more, so much more to him now that he must have experienced that you can conclude from just his appearance alone. But, you understand that such an in-depth unraveling of him will need to take place in steps. You're at a loss of where to even begin. But, another issue begs both your attention.

“Do you have another one for me?” He prods.

“Yes, actually.” You state cautiously, doing your best to make your tone even, before you rip off the bandaid.

“Why didn't you call?”

He exhales softly through his nose as you continue your slow walk. “I wanted to.”

“But?”

“But you left me.”

You stopped, confused as you try to suppress your long buried anger that was attempting to resurface.

“No…” You correct him. “You left me.”

He experiences a bit of frustration as well. It was an old forgotten fling, after all, but delving with you headfirst into the source of your connection going cold overnight digs up all of those old, forgotten feelings of hurt, particularly over something that happened in his early twenties, it feels so childish, a fact he really doesn't appreciate.

“I recall the opposite.” He rebuffs, keeping himself calm.

“Well, I do too. So it seems we're at an impasse.”

“It would seem very much so.”

You pause together in stalemate, lost in the tangled mess of all things you long to say with no idea of how to say them. He recognizes you're emotional, and you sense the same from him. But despite the emotional charge behind your conversation, neither of you pick up on hostility from the other. Taking a moment to recognize that a passionate and short lived affair from your twenties ended badly for both of you, leaving a scar with no resolution, and now both of you simply want to use this rare opportunity to gain some closure if nothing else transpires from your meeting tonight.

“Please.” He gestures patiently. “You first.”

“I left you my number, and you never called.”

Kento raises his eyebrows. “I don't recall that.”

“Well, I did.”

“When?”

You scoff, a little frustrated by something that seemed so obvious. “On your desk! At the hotel right before I left! You were still asleep.”

Kento nods slowly, beginning to understand, “This…changes things.”

“What do you mean?” You respond, puzzled.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” He counters with a question of his own, leaning against a shelf.

“I didn't want to disturb you.” You look down meekly, the memory coming back to you all at once, including the rather intimate happenings that unfolded that night.

Kento remembers it too, similar feelings of warmth cascading throughout his body at the sensual recollection that would have made his younger self blush profusely.

“Well, I can assure you wholeheartedly, I did not get your message after you left. I was actually under the impression that you abandoned me, for some reason or another.” He shakes his head.

“I'm sorry.” You apologize softly, eyes full of regret.

“No need.” He replies firmly. “We were young, it was a misunderstanding. There's no harm done.”

“No harm done.” You echo with a hum.

“Precisely.”

Silence.

“Well.”

“Well?”

“Can we start over?”

He smiles, the first genuine one he's given you all night. “I'd like that.”

You both grin in mutual elation, slightly lost at first at how to transition into this fresh beginning.

“So.” You wrack your brain for ideas, meandering over to the section alphabetized, “M.”

“Do you still listen to MCR?”

He nods, offering you another closed lipped smile. “Every so often.”

“Really?” You finger through the vinyls, landing on Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. “Do you have this one?”

“I do, actually.” He muses, an idea popping into his head. “Why don't we get you started on your own collection?”

You shake your head quickly, stowing the vinyl back like it was on fire. “Oh, no. Kento, no, I really shouldn't…”

“I insist.” He glides next to you, retrieving it with a hum as he examines it before stowing it under his arm, moving on in search of the latest album from Modest Mouse.

And you can't help but accept defeat with an affectionate shake of your head. Definitely one of the things you remember about him that hadn't changed.

There was no winning when it came to debates over him doing you favors. So, in the spirit of starting fresh, you'd let him have this one for now.

—--

You stand outside of the vinyl shop, a new connection born between you, lots of old feelings mixed in with apprehension, yet hope for the future.

He studies you under the light from the city streets, noticing you're every bit as beautiful as the night he found you and lost you all at once.

He longs to close the space between you, reunite with what he had missed out on for so long that he was certain he'd never taste again, brought back to him by sheer coincidence, a gift of fate.

But, unlike last time, he knows he can't repeat his mistakes. And though you long to just as badly, you know you can't, either.

Instead, he sweeps you into a warm embrace. He smells different than you remember, but this new scent is every bit as intoxicating as the old one.

You stay like that, wrapped up in each other for the longest time, buying back some of it that had been robbed between you. This hug was the physical apology you owed to one another for everything that happened in the old chapter, and the cornerstone you needed to pass over into the new.

When you part ways, he doesn't allow his gaze to drift from you until he ensures you're safely aboard your bus, watching until it rounds the corner before he ventures in the opposite direction, mind full of you he has no plans to clear anytime soon.

And, just like that, lightning does strike twice. The clouds of the storm have receded to sunny skies, a rainbow of hope glimmering on the horizon.

He smiles as he walks away, your number tucked neatly in his breast pocket.

This time, he'll make sure he doesn't lose it.

---

[kiruamon]

Don't wake me up - AU Introduction

Cooking up another au idea. So first take these sketches and my info dump will follow further below. Also this feels like one of my more darker aus when I look at the amount of angst involved.

Sun

Moon

Y/N

Soooo... I was thinking of an au with dreams as a theme. Sun and Moon being an entity or guardian of dreams. While Sun stands for the good dreams Moon is in care of nightmares.

And into this setting I decided to throw a Y/N who has only very recently gone blind. They had always loved to create art. So to suddenly being unable to see was shattering their whole world. What's making it worse is that they always had been very independent and pride of what they achieved soley on their own. The thought to be dependent of others was something they never had liked.

But now even in their own home they don't feel any longer in control or autonomous. It's a struggle to navigate around. Bumping into furniture. Memorizing the distance from the bed to the door. Not knocking anything from the desk by accident or crawling under it if it does happen and feeling around for their keys without being able to use their vision to find them. It's frustrating and makes them feel like a stranger in their own place that should usually feel safe and familiar. But now it's all: Where did I put my phone? Was the grater in the drawer under the silverware or left from it? Did I grabbed a spoon or a fork? Which of my sweaters am I holding right now? Hopefully not the ugly christmas sweater I got four years ago? Does the shirt even match the rest or are the colors clashing with each other? Everything feels slowed down and like a big pain since things are still so fresh. Even worse that they have to let a stranger into their life to help them out that is supposed to teach them how to slowly cope with their new situation. It doesn't matter much to Y/N that said caretaker isn't human. They want their vision back so badly. And if that's not possible just to be left alone. Feeling overly emotional over the smallest things and then quickly burnt out. Every little thing is just too much. Being so stressed out and all... their only safe place for them is their dreams. It's where they feel the most normality and comfort. To sleep and to dream means for them to be free. To enjoy the colors and shapes of their dream environmental without any restricts that hold them back.

And that's where they meet Sun during one of their dreams. Not thinking too much of the strange encounter at the start. After all, it's just a dream. There could be much weirder things as a tall animatronic that claims himself to be a dream guardian. It's just odd how often they start to met since their first encounter. But Sun's nice. A very friendly and jolly fellow with an optimistic personallity that's kind of delightful. And Y/N finds himself quickly warming up to their new dream friend. Strolling through the dream realm with Sun and having some silly fun adventures without Y/N needing to worry that they could run into something by accident like in reality. But with time passing by Sun is starting to ask questions about Y/N. Questions that feel like hitting to close to home to them. That they don't want to answer. That they do not want to think about. After all they are hiding into their dreams to escape reality. Not to face their problems. Sun means well, but when he starts prying with his questions Y/N gets defensive and at some point snaps at him. And with the negative emotions flowing over their dream starts to shift. Bringing up more of their hidden fears and tinting it to become more of a nightmare.

Y/N finding themself suddenly alone in an eery nightmarish place. Full of dulled and muddled colors. Their surroundings looking close to a multi layer paper cutout full of symbols that represent their fears and worries which they had tried to desperately deny. The place gives them the shivers. Their shouting out for Sun. But he doesn't seem to be anywhere anymore. So they start running. Searching for him just to fall into a pitch-black pit that feels like it grows deeper and deeper with every second they are into it. Heart rate is going through the roof and panic is spiking up. That's when someone pulls them out. But before they can have a look at them the person they wake up from their nightmare. Next time when Y/N is back to sleep Sun is immediately there and telling them how worried he had been about them. Taking them in their arms and apologizing over and over for upsetting them. At the question where he had disappeared to last time he tells Y/N that he had been looking for them as soon as the dream had been shifting. Aside from that he seems a bit reluctant to tell them more about it. But from that day on Y/N finds themself a bit more often faced with nightmares and feeling as if someone was watching them during those times. Which turns out to be true as he spots a hooded figure at the edge of his vision a few times before finally being able to confront them. Feeling already unsettled and in fight or flight mode Y/N settles for the first option when catching Moon sneaking around them once more. Unbeknownst to them that Moon and Sun are practically one and the same entity. Just that Moon is in charge of their body in the realm of nightmares and Sun in the realm of good dreams.

Moon is more annoyed with Y/N's defensive and stubborn attitude as Sun is. But it might also not help that Moon himself is very tight-lipped instead of trying to explain things. So the two aren't off with the best start. And Sun has some explaining to do when he and Y/N meet the next time. Despite this rough start with Moon Y/N will find out that the more grumpy dream guardian is staying close to them whenever they find themself back in a nightmare instead of hiding like before. Giving them a bit closure with their presence and words and helping them to guide them slowly out of their nightmares back into more peaceful dreams where Sun will take over again.

As things progress there comes a time where Y/N will hardly want to get out of bed anymore. Just wanting to sleep. To go back into this world of dreams where they feel free instead of struggling all day without knowing what for. They are at a rough place. And they find themself wishing to stay longer and longer in their dreams with Sun and Moon. The world where they feel whole.

Of course Sun and Moon notice what is going on. The dreams after all depict the things that are going subconsciously and consciously on in Y/N's mind. It's hard for them if the two bring up their blindness. Or that they have to wake up instead of keep dreamig on forever. To start to live their life again. It's a messy time for them all and a lot of ups and downs. But with those confrontations and growing closer to the two guardians Y/N finds themself also becoming more vulnerable and slowly opening up to them. Admitting that they are scared. That they feel useless and like having lost so many things. Not knowing what to do. It takes a lot of time, patience and comfort from Sun and Moon as well as some firm words to slowly convince Y/N to start working on their fears in the real world. Y/N's dreams during this time are very unstable and easily shifting often between good and nightmarish during the course of one night. But they are slowly trying to work things out.

It takes a lot of them to ask the animatronic that had been assigned to take care of them for help. Not only because Y/N feels pretty shitty for having lashed out verbally in the past for a bunch of minor little things that had got them riled up during this time, but also because it's still hard for them to rely on someone this much. But all their conversations with Sun and Moon have teached them that's okay to ask for help. And so they do. Slowly finding their way back into life. Learning how to cope with their blindness. What tools to use to navigate better through their daily life. Learning that's okay to be vulnerable. It's a little surprise to Y/N when they find out that the name of their caretaker is Eclipse. A very patience and kindhearted animatronic. The round head plate with the triangular rays feels all so familiar under their fingers when he allows them to run their hands over them. Eclipse is the one helping Y/N out in their daily life. Cooking together and giving them all kinds of tips and tricks. Guiding them with his directions and gentle voice. He even brings up things like tactile art, sculpting and other things Y/N hadn't thought of before since they had believed they would have to give up on art completely. But slowly there is new hope found. And with each little achievement Y/N will find themself more independent over time. Finding joy in creation again and even some new things. While they always had liked music they also find a new interest in audiobooks. Even though they enjoy it even more when Eclipse will read for them while they sit together on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate in their hands and leant against him. Since Y/N grows more and more fond towards Eclipse to a point where they even found their more cheerful side back. It comes as a shock when Eclipse is telling them someday that he will soon quit his job as their caretaker. Since he feels that Y/N has grown independent enough again for not needing a full-time caretaker anymore. It leaves a bitter taste for Y/N as they had started to grow so used to having the other around and now feeling as if losing Eclipse again. Questioning the fact if they even had been friends or if they had been just another job for him. But at the same moment they start having those insecure thoughts they feel guilty about them. After all Eclipse had done so, so much for them and they don't want to taint their last time with him with acting like an upset or ungrateful child. So Y/N decides to just tell Eclipse how thankful they feel for everything he has done for them and that they wish him the best. Just for Eclipse to chuckle softly and telling them that he doesn't intend to make this their last meeting. He swiftly explains to Y/N that he only wants to quit the job in order to be able to be their friend without it feeling like he is paid to be nice to them.

Aaaalso some side notes to Sun and Moon. While they are like a dream entity or like I call them the guardians of dream it's not like they can do whatever they want in the dream realm. Besides their transformation they can not just wave their hand and change what happens in a dream. Their influence on the dreams is more subtle and depending if they are able to calm down the dreamer. So it's more like their interactions and words with the dreamer will affect the dreamers thoughts and subconcious and that will influence the dream. So if Sun for an example senses Y/N getting upset he will most of the time swiftly change topics and trying to use distraction as a method to keep the dream nice and peaceful. Asking about things Y/N likes and that feel safe to adress. Since Moon is just there when the dreamer is already in a nightmare his method is more about showing support. Staying close to them as some form of protection. He will take Y/N's hand or later on take them in his arms. Brushing over his back and keep talking with them in a calm voice. Letting them vent about their fears while giving some guidance if needed.

So it's all more about their skills in interacting and subtle manipulation via words (in a more healthy way) as having some magical superpowers.

Ooookay, that was a lot. And I hope it's not too confusing to follow my line of thoughts. There will be a second post entry that focuses more on some sketches that I did for this au and that will show some of the things mentioned here.

[crownremonique]

Escape Call

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Waitress!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: When a man asks you for help while working, you decide to make a call that might just end up changing your life.

The restaurant was fairly quiet as you neared the end of your shift. It had been a long one, draining you to your core, but anything that waited for you back home wasn't the definition of relaxing in any way. Your tiring days of dealing with snobby customers usually ended in studying for the many mock exams of med school.

The small bell hanging atop the entrance rang, signaling the arrival of a new set of customers, which you hoped would be the last for the day. It was the man who caught your attention first, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie. He had an expression on his face that you couldn't quite place, but it definitely wasn't happiness. A woman entered behind him and followed him to the table he was seating himself at. Unlike the man, she seemed to be quite happy about being at the restaurant.

Convincing yourself that this would be the last table you would wait for, you walked over to them with a pair of menus and greeted the pair with a warm smile.

“Hey guys, what can I get started for you today?”

“I'll just have a water, thanks.” The man said while flipping his menu closed, never bothering to read any of the items on it.

“Are you sure honey? You're not gonna order anything else?” Not giving him a chance to respond, she continued speaking “Well, I'm gonna get something low carb, maybe something like a salad? Gotta watch my weight, y’know..” She trailed off, eyeing you top to bottom.

You felt appalled by her snide comment, but chose not to offer her anything but a tight lipped smile. You left the table to give the cook her order and started working on his glass of water, silently observing the pair sitting across.

The woman was talking expressively while the man just seemed bored. He looked tired, resting his chin on his palm, barely looking at the rambling woman.

You heard a ding from the kitchen, and placed their orders on a plate, walking over to them. You noticed the man writing something on a tissue and folding it up. You were just about to turn around after serving them when you heard a high pitched cry.

“What is this? There's peanuts in this! I can't eat this! I'm allergic” She yelled at you, eyes wide like you had purposely tried to poison her.

“Ma'am I am so incredibly sorry, I didn't know you were allergic-” You couldn't finish your sentence, interrupted by her bowl of salad smashing the ground. You dropped down quickly to collect the shattered porcelain, glancing at the man. He looked horrified, sending an apologetic glance towards you.

After cleaning up and getting the karen a new salad, you hung out by the counter, trying to subtly observe the pair. You saw the man get up from his seat, saying something about using the men’s room, and walk over towards you. He handed you the folded tissue paper discreetly and walked past you to the restroom. You unravelled the note and saw a phone number:

Save me, Please.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

You watched as he walked back to the table and sat down. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, He needed an escape call. You fished your phone out of your pockets and dialed the number, watching his phone vibrate on the table. He picked it up, and you waited silently on the other line.

“Hello? Yes this is him…. Mhm……What? Oh my god, I’ll be right there!”

He got up hastily, collecting his wallet and dropping a few bills down to cover the tab, and quickly apologised to the woman before rushing out of the restaurant.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You finished clearing the last of the tables and got your bag to head home. Today had been an eventful day, and the stranger you had seen for no more than an hour, was running on your mind since he left. You bid farewell to the cook and the guy at the register and stepped out into the cool night.

You felt a chill run down your spine, though you weren't sure if it was from the cold or because of the figure leaning against the alley in the dark. You took a step back but heard a familiar voice that made you stop.

“I was wondering when you would be off your shift.” The man spoke, coming into view.

“Escape call.” You said, letting him know that you recognised him.

“Yeah…I was desperate. Never going on a second date with her again.” He concluded.

“Second date? I thought she was your girlfriend. Heard her call you honey so i assumed..” You said as you started to walk alongside him.

“Oh no, just a blind date my colleagues set me up with. I'm Tim by the way. Could I get the name of my rescuer?” He held out his hand, looking at you expectantly. You offered him your name and shook his hand, relishing the softness of his palm.

He repeated your name wistfully, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. You felt your cheeks redden, even if it was only your name he had said. You could only wish your house was farther away.

You both walked the entire way to your house, conversation flowing easily between you two. You learned that he was a cop, which made sense for no apparent reason. His personality was strong and graceful, drawing you in closer than you ever imagined was possible. You could have talked to him forever if you could, but all good things had to come to an end, just like your walk.

You eventually reached your doorstep and slid your key into the keyhole, careful not to wake up your roommate. you pushed open the door, turning back to face Tim. His eyes refused to leave yours, twinkling with a feeling that you could only describe as longing. Your mouth felt dry as you waited for him to say something. He placed his hand on the door, keeping it open.

“Is there anything I can do to repay you? for being my saviour today?” He asked, eyes darting between your eyes and lips.

You felt a smile spread across your face. Maybe you wouldn't have to say goodbye after all.

✨️

[deceptiveshadow]

Checking in. BOY I struggled with this for no reason.

[deadghosy]

OMINIS X BLIND! READER HEADCANNONS

★prompt: being blind since birth, and being the new fifth year. Another blind student takes his chances to get to know you.

When you were sorted to Slytherin, Ominis sensed something different about you. That’s when his dearest friend had said your eyes were like his. Ominis felt his eyes widen. "Another blind student.." that was surly not on his bingo card. As his wand sensed you trying to tell where the Slytherin table was. His body reacted before his mind as Ominis had guided to the table.

Some of the kids whisper at how the cold gaunt had taken action to helping another blind student. You thanked him which made his heart feel warm. He only nodded and sat back down, griping his wand.

After a few days, Ominis started to warm up to you. Making you go under his wing and teach you how to use your surroundings and other senses well.

Simply teaches you how to use your wand to navigate around Hogwarts. It took some time with you, but progress and patience is key.

Sometimes locking pinkies together while walking around bigger areas. He would be in front while you are behind since he more prone to using his wand

You start to notice Ominis sleeps during some of the classes you have together. You would smile and lean your head against his shoulder. Prompting to him unconsciously smiling in his sleep.

He knows your fragrance very well, and if you have a natural smell to you. He knows you are close just by that smell. With him being blind he could proximately call out to you with heightened senses.

Read out loud to you, he can’t fathom to leave you out of books he finds interesting.

Pinkie holding turns to holding your hand when he starts to get more comfortable with you.

Sebastian teasing Ominis at how he started to notice how his blind friend posture lessens when you are around.

Feeling each other’s faces to know what you “look” like to each other. When you said he felt pretty. His face went red as his lips pressed against each other. He could decide between saying you felt beautiful as well or just thanking you. Being the gentleman he is, he thanked you and the compliment you.

Your feature felt like something he can’t get out of his touch and mind. You felt like you were crafted to perfection. You couldn’t get out of his head.

Ominis’s heart almost stopped when you had gripped the sleeve of his cloak. He oddly likes it when you are close to him. He hates to admit he does find it cute when you are dependent on him.

When it’s nighttime, you two undress each other. Not in any sexual way but more in an intimate way of showing care and love to each other. Soft giggles and chuckles at how you two try to help each other while being blind together.

On a serious note, learning you hold ancient magic and having to do dangerous quests and battling with poachers make Ominis almost go into a panic attack and a heart attack as well. The thought of you being killed, danger, or even harmed making Ominis wake up in the sweat. Feeling for you in the same bed as him as he grips your hand to his chest.

He loves the feeling of your heartbeat, and you do as well. With your heart still going makes him calm and it reminds him that you are still with him.

Ominis when sitting in the great hall always wait for your presence. Sebastian could really tell that this Gaunt was being a little impatient about when you were coming. Ominis was quite a little snappy than usual.

But when you walked in holding your wand just like how Ominis does, Ominis immediately stuck his head up like a puppy sensing you through his wand. His knuckles were almost white with how hard he was gripping it.

He sadly has feelings for you. But he loves having these feelings towards you.

[klausysworld]

(I’ve made this story so that Y/N is a blind girl. I had this idea in my head for a while and I hope that people who aren’t able to read my stories are able to hear them ☺️🩷)

To Feel Is To See

Klaus had found solace in admiring her.

He could tell she was blind, it’s not something one could really hide and she didn’t want to hide it anyways. In a twisted way he enjoyed knowing that she couldn’t see him.

It meant that he could watch her from afar without her knowing. He could see how effortlessly she glided through the busy streets of New Orleans, people would move out of her way whether she had her mobility cane or not. 

Her hair was always perfect, never a strand out of place. Her skin glowing and her outfits always complimenting her day in and day out.

There was just a comfortable air around her which he was drawn to. She seemed so light with each step, it put him at ease.

Safe; she seemed safe.

Klaus would sit quietly at his table, sketching away whilst systematically glancing up to check Y/N was still typing away on her laptop with her headphones in.

It took a good few weeks but eventually he started ordering the coffee she liked and having it sent over to her. 

He loved how she’d smile and he’d wonder where all his usual arrogance and confidence would vanish to when it came to her. 

Klaus hadn’t been paying attention when she approached him, her hand resting on his shoulder making him jump a little and quickly turn his sketch pad over only to look up at see her sweet face facing him. 

“Hi.” She greeted, a small smile on her lips, “You’ve been sending me drinks?” She asked, though it was quite clear that she already knew the answer. 

Klaus pushed himself out of his seat to take her hand from his shoulder and squeeze it gently.

“Yes, sweetheart. I’ve been sending them.” He admitted, a small lump forming in his throat as he fought the urge to touch her face. 

“And you’ve been staring?” Her head tilted and her tone was a little more accusatory. “In the streets.” She added, her hand pulling away from his as she folded her arms over her chest.

“Well-” He cleared his throat. Klaus was ever so slightly thankful that she couldn’t see his cheeks getting pinker. “How did you..” His brow furrowed and she huffed.

“Just because I can’t see you doesn’t mean I can’t feel those eyes of yours.” 

“Right, of course.” He muttered.

Klaus felt a little embarrassed with himself. 

Thankfully for him Y/n didn’t mind.

Luckily she wasn’t creeped out. 

Somehow, with a couple stumbles, Klaus managed to ask her on a date.

On his way home he only sighed to himself with slight humiliation.

Perhaps knowing that he couldn’t charm her with a simple smirk.

Most women would fall at his feet from the way he looked at them, they’d find him perfectly handsome and be all over him but with Y/N he had to show her build an attraction. 

Now after a thousand years Klaus had gotten very good with his words and his ways but it was harder to say them than it was to write it down. Usually a love poem would make a lady swoon but he couldn’t expect her to read a handwritten letter. 

So instead he studied braille and mimicked it by sticking push dots onto a sheet of paper to express his words. The paper was then cut into the shape of a heart and carefully transferred into her eager hands.

His cheeks practically glew red as he watched the joy paint her face as her fingertips ran across each letter. 

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” She beamed, the card was clutched tightly in her hand as she hesitantly opened her arm out a little. Klaus stepped forward quickly to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into embrace. 

Y/N remained there for a moment before pulling back a little and smiling, “You smell nice.” She commented shyly and he grinned, his wolf almost purring as he fought the urge to nuzzle into her neck and hair. 

“So do you, love. You smell sweet like vanilla.” He murmured to her, his voice low near her ear making her shiver a little and reluctantly pull from his grasp. 

From there Klaus pulled the menus out and passed her one, he’d been too focussed on making the letter to remember that not restaurants were considerate enough to make braille menus. His expression dropped a little as he opened his and saw only words, he looked up quickly but Y/N hadn’t even bothered to open hers, she knew it wasn’t there. 

“Sorry,” His voice uttered, the lump in his throat back as he gently pulled her closer round the booth. “I’ll read it to you.” He insisted, his hand rubbing her arm comfortingly.

“It’s okay, I can just have something simple.” She brushed it off but he wouldn’t allow it.

He wouldn’t let her feel embarrassed that he had to read the dishes aloud to her, he took his time to explain each one until she was sure on the one she’d like the most. 

Apart from that the date went smoothly, they spoke a lot and enjoyed their meals before Klaus walked her home and up the stairs in her apartment block. He would worry with every step, the few little trips of her feet made his heart leap but the elevator was out of order, he almost bought her a bungalow as soon as he got home but he had to remind himself that he couldn’t scare her off. He needed to be normal.

As normal as a thousand year old original hybrid could be. 

Going out for lunch and dinner was taking the easy route, Klaus had realised.

He needed to be more creative.

Which was how they ended up in a pottery class for beginners, his hands guiding hers as they tried to create a heart shaped bowl. Klaus smiled to himself as he watched her trace the rim, checking the shape while he rested his chin on her shoulder. 

Over the weeks they went back a lot, ending up with a cupboard full of bowls, cups, plates and shelves of cute little ornaments. 

A couple times they’d tried baking, Klaus learnt after the first time to be on the lookout for any holes in the flour bag. 

They’d cooked together and Klaus quickly learnt that Y/N had exquisite taste, always being bang on when it came to flavours. Klaus would always be grabbing her taste testing spoon for her to check the sauce.

He couldn’t ever stop himself from gazing at her and she’d always remind him that she could feel his eyes. He hadn’t really thought too much about how she might see him until she asked.

“How…how do you look?” Y/N had asked, her voice almost hesitant when she did so.

Klaus looked down at her, they’d been led against each other and watching tv when she’d spoken up.

“My face?” He questioned, shifting a little to face her as she nodded. Klaus tried to explain his features but his words were clumsy and unclear, eventually he just sighed and tried to think of another way to show her. 

“You can feel” He mumbled faintly, his eyes glancing to her fingers before his hands gently grabbed her wrists and brought them to his neck.

Her head nodded and her hands pressed to his skin, fingertips gently gliding over the little moles making her smile as she followed up to his jaw. Klaus filled with warmth as he felt her hands feel across the stubble of his cheeks, her index finger slide along the slope of his nose before both hands following the curve of his eyebrows to pinpoint his eyes. Klaus’s gaze softened completely when her eyes seemed to look right into his.

“You said they’re blue?” She whispered, “Like how cold feels?” 

“Yeah…” He mumbled faintly, leaning into her touch as she traced across his forehead, giggling at the lines in his skin making him chuckle softly too. 

A small hum left him as she brushed his hair back, combing the curls between her fingers. 

“Blonde? Like how the sun feels on my skin?” She asked and he nodded, his head moving between her hands as she felt the shape of his ears. 

Slowly her hands slid back to her lap and her eyes drifted away from his as she smiled. 

“You’re beautiful.” She told him and he cupped her face, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“I wish you could see how perfect you are, but you’ll just have to make do with my words.” He murmured and she laughed softly.

“You tell me every day, how could I forget?” 

“I’ll make sure you never do.” He mumbled, his lips finding her jaw and neck with ease. “Your beauty is everlasting, in your face and in your soul.” 

In response Y/N pushed her face into his chest, making him cup the back of her head. “Don’t cry sweetheart.” He whispered, his other arm pulling her onto his lap. Klaus nuzzled into her hair and breathed out through his nose. 

Often her senses could overwhelm her a little but Klaus’s words always managed to push her over the edge. He always had such darling things to say or to write, to show her.

He’d show her every inch of the world in as many ways as he could manage.

He’d do anything for her.