#but like. i see a lot of this and while some of it is definitely like intentionally engaging with this aspect of the text conscientiously

[gravegoer]

Do you write for Grayson by any chance? I really wished we got see more of her before her unfortunate demise

Sevika, Ambessa, Grayson

i write for anyone! and you can request a separate thing for grayson if you'd like but I decided to do the 3 butches in 1 so here's some random stuff for them <3 (this is needed after the pain of act 3)

my masterlist

council member sevika fic

Ambessa doesn't love often, but when she does, she loves HARD.

Since you're close to her, she is constantly worried people about hurting you to get to her.

You might have enforcers on you 24/7 unless you tell her to stop and if that's the case. She will follow you around herself. Making sure people know you are always under a close watch by her.

When you walk in public together, she likes you to have your arms wrapped around her bicep/forearm, keeping you as close as possible.

If that's not in your taste she will sling a heavy arm over your shoulder, careful not to weigh you down.

She is always buying you expensive and lavish clothing. If your gaze lingers on anything for too long, you'll see it at your doorstep the next day.

When you see a nice shop you like she's going to take you in and make you try on clothes for her. Putting her hand on your waist as she spins you around. Inviting you to stand between her spread legs so she can see the details better.

If you like to wear heels and your feet start to get tired, she will sit you down and take them off your feet herself, opting to carry you around for the next few hours.

When she carries you, you can see all the scars on her arms and face in full detail. She doesn't seem to mind your staring and might even take pride in herself.

As you're cuddling, she loves it when you trace your fingers over her scars, admiring every bump and edge. She will tell you dramatic stories about how she got them. (Definitely exaggerating some details.)

You could talk together for ages, bringing up random stories and irrelevant details. Her rough hands combing through your hair, or massaging your shoulders.

This was a weekly thing in the hot springs. She sits on the ledge above you while your shoulders slot themselves between her thick, scarred thighs.

She will take care of you without expecting anything back, but she definitely loves it when you return the favor. She will rest her head on your thighs and groan in pleasure when you massage her temples or scalp.

Grayson is a romantic, she will be showing up at your door with flowers in hand.

If she met you in Zaun, she will insist on taking you out on a fancy dinner date at her favorite Piltover resteraunt.

If you refuse, that's okay too. She's fine with eating at any of Zaun's resteraunts. (Just not seafood, please.)

She's asking you what your favorite flower is so she can bring you those instead next time.

And if you are a Zaunite, she isn't ashamed of your relationship, showing you off proudly. After all, all the enforcers do look up to her. What are they going to do?

If you don't know how to shoot, she will be more than pleased to teach you. Your back is pressed against her warm chest as she wraps her arms around you to hold the gun steady.

Her rough voice firmly commands you on where to put your hands and which parts do what.

Speaking of her voice, she knows you love it when she whispers sweet nothings in your ear before you drift off to sleep. Her muscled arm cushioning your head and cradling you close to her chest.

It's easy for her to fall asleep once she knows you're safe and comfortable. (That's why she insists on moving in together.

Actually, she insists on doing a lot of things together. For example, she appreciates when you work out with her, sitting on her back while she does pushups, or maybe spotting her while she presses some weight. (Not that she needs it. She just wants you close)

She instructs you on what workouts you can do and where to place her hands, maybe placing hers on yours for a bit too long.

You can see the sweat gleam on her forehead and the veins in her forearm after every set she completes. This is a sight you can grow to appreciate.

She definitely subtlety flexes when you touch her arm or basically anywhere else she can possibly bring herself to flex. (You notice)

Sevika is the gentlest giant. At first, you might assume her tone is rough and condescending. But after some time, you start to see through her facade.

Her tone around is more firm and calm. It's more around you than anyone else. She tries not to get aggressive or angry with you.

And if she does, she's immediately making it up to you in every way but saying "sorry"

She's bringing you your favroite foods, giving you a little more affection than usual, reluctantly letting you fidget with her mechanical arm.

She does take you out to places, albeit not the fanciest. She makes do with what Zaun has to offer. Buying you a drink at the bar or a trip across the city.

Although she's not really a big fan of PDA, she will let you hold her arm while walking around Zaun. She swears it's a safety precaution to make sure no creeps get close.

When she plays cards at the bar, you are always beside her, no arguements. She doesn't want you sitting by any of the other shady men that play with her.

Maybe if there is few enough people you can sit in her lap and light her cigarillo for her.

What you don't do in public is definitely made up for in private.

She lays on your lap after a long day, taking deep inhales into your stomach to calm down. Grabbing your hand, she'll encourage you to run your fingers through her hair.

Let's you hold her face in your hands and trace her intricate scar while her eyes are closed, completely letting her guard down.

Her large hand engulfs your own as she cradles your hand close to her face, imprinting this memory in her mind.

Just know she is extremely touch starved. Most of the touching she gets all day is punches and kicks, nothing close to the gentle sweep of your fingers on her exposed skin.

She isn't a big gift giver, but if you give her a neat suprise, like an expensive zippo or a new shirt (God knows she needs one) you swear you see a small tear in the corner of her eye. Maybe its just the light.

But who cares because her lips will immediately be on yours, engulfed in a hot kiss.

i feel like sevika needed more screen time in the last act but its okay as long as she didn't die...

[alchemistc]

Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.

Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.

"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"

His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.

Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.

"Tommy?"

He groans an affirmative.

"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."

A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."

"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."

Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"

He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"

"...why are you mad at me?"

"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."

"He's - he'll be fine."

"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."

"Bi-weekly like -."

"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"

"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."

Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"

Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"

He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."

Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."

And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"

Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."

"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."

Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"

"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"

"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"

Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.

"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"

"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."

"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."

His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.

[whokilledsamara]

I love your Homicipher hc, they are so good! Would you be willing to do some N/ SFW for Mr. Chopped too? Like you did for some of the others? I understand if you don't want to or if it makes you uncomfortable, thank you anyway!

MR. CHOPPED N/SFW HCS

a hc list of Mr. Chopped x reader {an: SORRY GUYS IM POSTING MAINLY HCS RN,,, fics for me take a lot longer than usual so im just posting hcs to atleast get some reach.}

warnings! : smut, cunnilingus/blowjob, idk,,, cuckhold

{an: freaky shit,,,, like hes just a head so its kinda hard to fuck. did give him a section for IF he had a body.. MAINLY HIM GIVING HEAD,, i didnt rly know how to write this im sorry!! def will write more tho,,, im into him ngl}

SFW

what it would be like to be in a relationship with Mr. Chopped.

it would be relatively hard to be in a relationship with him for obvious reasons, though not impossible!

the thought of you makes him happy, and especially when you hold him.

he would have Mr. Silvair help most of the time. usually for the romantic aspects of things though.

while Mr. Silvair doesnt quite understand the relationship, he is glad to help.

being a talking head will obviously raise a few insecurities, so just reassure him that you indeed do love him! he gets his feelings hurt easily.

he absolutely loves when you play with his hair. if you put bows in it or decorate it, that will make it all the more special for him.

the first time he bit you when he was sleeping, had him crying for hours. he felt so bad that he harmed you in any way, and it took a while for him to "recover"

he loves kisses! he always shouts things like "Up, Up" or "Desire, Carry!" just so he can kiss you.

if you manage to get a hold of make up or something, he would absolutely love for you to do his makeup. {he likes to feel pretty}

he is a very sensitive boy, also a crybaby. how cuuuttteee...

if Mr. Silvair gives him a body, {ignore that one ending... we dont talk about it} then he wpuld be even more excited to see you.

the moment he gets a body would mean so many hugs and affection as a thank you for saving him.

he gets picked on a lot by the others so he usually tries his best to come to you.

NSFW

sex...?

sex is definitely a hard concept with him.

while yes, it is possible, just not in the way intended.

you could see him more as a pure object for your pleasure honestly, and he wants that.

whether you are amab or afab, he is perfect for the situation.

ive seen this referenced by another writer, but he would be like a "rose toy" or a "fleshlight" as people call it.

its a secret pleasure to watch you go at it with someone else. {ex: Mr. Silvair or someone.}

if he is gifted a body though, he definitely will pay you back for saving him in the first place.

personally he would be a soft and sensual lover with his new body, rarely going rough unless specifically asked to.

he is more of a giving top. definitely not dominant but is a top. he cares more about your pleasure than his. though, he does get all giddy when you wish to go down on his or something.

he is open to literally anything you want, he would have very few limitations on what he would do, but everything is open for discussion.

again, definitely either wants to watch you have sex with someone else, OR wants someone else to watch you and him go at it. {he would prefer Silvair.}

he definitely likes when you pull his hair or use him. will be submissive sometimes.

he is the type to cry during sex...

omfmg i love him sm

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[meelusinee]

AN OPERA HOUSE ☆ T.N X READER

in which you’re Theo's girlfriend and went to visit him on tour.

pairing: singer!theodore nott x singer!reader

tags: band!au, mostly fluff

word count: 2.6k

warnings: none, just fluff! (and mattheo getting water bottles thrown his way)

author’s note: my first post! for starters, i made a small playlist for this fic if you’d like to check it out. theodore, who i imagine as a cigarettes after sex singer. secondly, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

AN OPERA HOUSE | T.N x SINGER!READER

God, he hated interviews.

The lights that were blaring in Theodore’s face, along with the sound of people walking around both in front and behind the set, were really starting to piss him off. Theo didn’t know how Enzo and Mattheo did it, both of them smiling bright as if they were having a nice fuck or smoking a rather heavy cigarette.

Theodore really could use a cigarette right now. Either that, or you.

Thoughts of nicotine and you had been running rampant in his mind ever since he had to leave you for his national tour, the tour that celebrated the release of the band’s newest album Cigarettes After Sex. A debut of sorts, Theodore wasn’t really sure what to call it. If he were to name it anything, he’d want to name it his love letter to you. But Mattheo had said he couldn’t do that, so he stuck with the band name.

“Today is a rather special day for you, isn’t it?”

Theodore’s mind zoned back in as Blaise gently nudged his leg, his posture straightening up as the interviewer finally started asking questions. Perhaps they needed time to make the lights even brighter, Theo thought, his hand moving to cover the frown growing on his face. 

“Very special indeed,” Mattheo said, his signature smirk that got a lot of people involved with the band plastered on his face. “We just released an album, did you hear?”

“Yes, I did!” the interviewer said, smiling brightly as she adjusted the notes in her hand. “I was hoping we could ask you some questions about it, the musical process and making it mostly.”

Theo hummed non-committedly as the rest of them nodded their heads. Questions about music production didn’t sound too bad compared to a media interrogation.

“Do you mind if we did an introduction?” the lady asked, her fingers patting the cards.

“Course not love,” Blaise said, waving his hand casually as he sat up straighter. Theodore rolled his eyes, looking down at the ground. Blaise was always the biggest player out of the four of them. And that said a lot, seeing as though Mattheo Riddle was in the band as well. 

Theodore watched as the cameras focused in on each of them, the interviewer putting her cards down momentarily to introduce them to the show. “Today is a very special day for all of us, I can imagine.” she said, smiling as she made some sort of dramatic hand gesture towards them. “Today, I’m here with the members of Cigarettes after Sex. We’re going to ask questions about their newest album.”

“I’m so excited.” Lorenzo squeaked, straightening up as he and Mattheo made funny faces to the camera.

“I wanted to start with the first question I had, which was how working on the album went.” she started almost instantly, sitting up a bit straighter. Theo rather appreciated that about her. “I mean, there’s four people in your band, and a lot of timing and other issues that you’d have to work on together. Does that stuff come easier to you than to others, do you think?”

“I think we work pretty well together, right?” Lorenzo asked, leaning forward to look at the other three before smirking in Theo’s direction. “Other than Mr. Grumpy over there, he gets pissy a lot.”

“Oh definitely.” Mattheo said, smirking as he ruffled Theo’s hair. “But it’s okay, because he writes us songs and mothers us whenever we drink. We love him very dearly.”

“It’s not my fault you decide to get concerningly drunk almost every time we hit a bar.” Theo grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter as he prepared to answer the question seriously. “We work as a team a lot of the time, especially when it comes to music. The only non-negotiable is the lyrics, which I write by myself. Other than that though, it’s free reign.”

“So things like instruments and rhythm are all decided by everyone in the band collectively?” the interviewer asked.

“Pretty much,” Blaise explained. “Usually Mattheo and Enzo make a starting beat for songs, and Theo and I usually build guitar chords off of that. Theo here has most of the control with singing though, rhythm and stuff.”

“That’s really cool.” the interviewer nodded. “I wish my family had that amount of coordination during the holidays.”

The four of them chuckled at varying degrees, with Mattheo winking at the interviewer after. “Maybe if we came over we could give you some pointers.”

“That sounds really lovely, actually.” she said, the comment obviously getting to her. Her cheeks became visibly more flushed, fingers tapping faster against her notes. “I wanted to ask you guys a little bit about the lyrics though, if you don’t mind.”

And here we go.

“That’s all Theo’s field.” Lorenzo said, all three of their fingers dramatically pointing at the top of Theo’s head. He really felt like walking out for a smoke, and maybe burning them all with the ashes out of spite for their existence. But he wasn’t going to let them know that.

“Now, I’m sure you can guess where this is headed,” she chuckled softly, flipping one of her flashcards over. “I was wondering what the inspiration for your songs was. Do you have a muse or anything of the sort?”

Theodore sighed, feeling the moment almost pause in time as he tried to think of an answer. He very much did have a muse, you were waiting at home in his bed. Even still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that public. Especially since the both of you were rather quiet creatures.

He supposed it couldn’t hurt too much though.

“I do,” he whispered, clearing his throat after he spoke. He didn't realize how choked he would sound speaking. “Yeah, she’s really pretty.”

“Theo’s got a girlfriend!” Mattheo teased, poking Theo’s cheek teasingly. “He’s got a girlfriend who he loves very much. That woman has stolen his heart from me!”

“For shame of her, the audacity even.” Blaise chuckled amusedly, both Mattheo and Enzo playing a heartbroken bit. Theo smirked softly as Mattheo dramatically rested his head on Lorenzo’s shoulder, fake sobs escaping his mouth as they mourned over the loss of a non-existent relationship. 

“You’ll be fine.” Theo said, gently patting Mattheo’s back.

“I’ll never recover from this.” he sniffled, sitting up a bit straighter. “Mark my words.”

It was a midsummer night, the sweltering heat doing nothing to deter the line of fangirls waiting at the entrance gates. The muggy and dense air seemed to surround everyone with a humid blanket, every bit of contact made as they tried to get through the doors like a match on gasoline. The concerts you went to weren’t usually this crowded and suffocating. 

Then again, you usually never went to such well known-bands.

Luckily for you, you had been able to sneak a VIP seat ticket for the higher tip-tops of the opera house, a fitting venue for the band that was playing tonight. Cigarettes After Sex was flashing on the monitor they had set up near the back of the stage, the camera zoomed in to focus on the currently empty microphone stand. 

Voices filled the area as everyone began to take their seats, some people pushing and shoving as they made their way around with water and sneaked in alcohol. Some of them had on merch for the band, some of them didn’t. Most of them wore darker clothes though, lots of black with leather jackets and heavy boots.

Your eyes zoned in on the screen as the lights began to dim, the voices all hushing as four men walked out onto the stage. Lorenzo Berkshire was the drummer, one of the most well-known band drummers that you could name off the top of your head. Mattheo Riddle was already stationed by the keyboards, his unruly curls already a little damp from the humidity inside the room. Blaise Zabini walked out with his bass guitar in hand, a role you knew he took on just so he could look hot while strumming the strings. Then came out Theodore Nott. 

Your boyfriend.

You could tell that the heat was affecting him the least out of all of the band members, his waterline covered in the tiniest bit of eyeliner. You smiled softly as you recalled the memory of putting eyeliner on him when you two first started dating, the giggling fit the both of you had broken out into as the other three begged you to do their eyeliner as well. 

He looked beautiful in the lighting too, his outfit framing his figure in an almost holy light. You were almost tempted to start writing a song about it right then and there. But now wasn’t your time, now was the time of the band.

You supposed the band thought the same thing as well, Blaise’s fingers beginning the strum the opening of their most popular song. Theo made his way up to the microphone stand, smiling softly at the crowd as he began to sing. His voice was just as angelic as his face, echoing through the opera house like the ghost of a long forgotten lover. He had completely captivated the room, the silence barely just quieter than the sound of his voice. 

“Your lips, my lips,” you smiled softly as he sang the lyrics, leaning your head on your hand. “Apocalypse.”

You remember the time when he wrote that song. Your tongue was barely darted out as you tried to focus on not messing up the edges of a painting you had been working on, the brush trembling with your hands focused. It was a galaxy, the blues and purples blending together in a  jaw-dropping beauty of a display. Mattheo had come into the room as you finished, a low whistle escaping his mouth as he glanced over at it.

“Looks like an apocalypse.”

Apparently, those words had rung through Theo’s mind for the week after that. He eventually sat you down on the bed, pulling out his guitar as he began to sing the lyrics to you. They needed a bit of polishing with the rhythm, his fingers plucking the wrong strings at times as he sang. But it was one of the most beautiful pieces you had heard regardless, tears welling in your eyes as you moved to hug him. That hug also ran through Theo’s mind for yet another week, in which he had apparently produced an entire studio album based on you. 

You smiled softly as the end of the song came about, the final string echoing through the silent theatre. Theo had gone to grab a bottle of water by the speaker, his eyes locking onto yours.

You winked playfully, smiling at the blush that covered his features. You also just remembered that he had not expected you at the tour. 

“You need to come get your lover boy,” were the words that rang through your phone speaker as you tried to press it against your ear.

“What?” you asked again, pen in your hand as you spoke.

“I said,” Mattheo’s voice rang through the speaker. “You need to come get your lover boy. He is really depressed right now, like, really. He’s missing you terribly and is currently refusing to work because of it.”

You heard him and Blaise beginning to argue in the background, the both of them knowing that Theo would eventually get up. But Mattheo seemed to think that you being there would solve every single one of his problems.

“I don’t know if I can go, Mattheo,” you mumbled, placing your notebook down. “I doubt I could get a spontaneous ticket.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I already sent a driver to pick you up, he’ll be there in about 10 minutes. I’m just calling to let you know.”

“You what?” you said, looking at the phone incredulously. “Mattheo, I don’t have any time to pack! What would I wear?”

“You say that as if Theo won’t buy you a whole wardrobe based on you liking a single piece of jewelry!” Mattheo said back, groaning as Blaise called for him. “I gotta go, make sure you get in that car and come over. He���s really, really missing you.”

“Mattheo, I swear to Merlin.” you began, but didn’t have any time to finish as you heard the beeping at the end of the line. 

(divider)

“Is that amore mio?” Theo asked Blaise incredulously, looking over at the other three before catching Mattheo’s smirk. “Oh, you bastard.”

“You were missing her!” he said, running away from the keyboard so Theo could throw water at him. “It's not my fault you got depressed!”

“She is meant to be resting, testa di cazzo!” Theo said, sighing as he put the bottle down. No doubt that would be clipped in magazine headers across the country. Theo looked over at you, a soft smile coming on his face when you came into vision. You still had that smile on your face, if not brighter now that you were giggling. He smiled back, picking up his microphone again.

“For our next song,” he spoke into the microphone, placing it back on the stand. “I think it’d be rather nice to sing something about the building we’re in as well. Something about the opera house.” he said, smirking softly as the crowd of fans began cheering. The lights dimmed again as the music began playing, his eyes closing as he let it run through his soul.

“Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle,” he began, the music coursing through his veins. The words flowed out of him like a waterfall, his voice sweet as candy as he began walking back and forth at the front of the stage. Though every time the chorus hit he found himself in the middle, eyes focused on yours as he sang the lyrics. 

“I was meant to love you, and always keep you in my life. I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight.”

The lights cut off completely as the equipment turned off, a smile growing on Theo’s face as the end of the concert came. 

“Theo!” you squeaked as you saw him, waddling up to him like a happy penguin as you embraced him in a hug. You hadn’t seen him in over two weeks, the longest either of you had ever spent apart. “I never want to abandon you ever again.”

“If anyone was doing the abandoning, it was me.” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead lovingly. “I missed you so much principessa,” 

“I missed you too,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest. “Teddy.”

“Are you calling me a teddy bear?” he chuckled softly, pulling away from the hug to cup your face lovingly. His eyes were filled with devotion you only thought possible in dreams and fairytales, that was until you eventually met him at least. 

“Yes I am.” you smiled softly.

“You are ridiculous.” he chuckled softly, pressing his lips against yours as he caressed your cheeks lovingly. “Merlin, I love you.”

“I love you too.” she whispered lovingly. 

The two of you stood comfortably in the silence, wrapped in a hug neither wanted to leave. That was until Mattheo popped in.

“Told you that you missed her!”

His face had rather quickly met two empty water bottles. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much for reading! i got kind of lazy during the end of this, i'm not going to lie to you (it's three am), but! if you want more of these two lovely beauties i might maybe make a part two! (i originally drafted this with reader as a singer in mind, so if you'd like to be singing some adrianne lenker songs to theo just let me know)

please like and comment and all that jazz, i practically live off of validation at this point.

[lurkingshan]

Hey Shan!! IDK if you're planning to do a BL wrap up or superlatives or anything like that this year so this question might be a bit too early but um...what has been a few of your favorite first watches for 2024 bls?

Hi Eboni! This is actually pretty good timing for a list because most of the shows that will end within 2024 are already over! The only two I could see maybe making my list that have not ended yet are Love is Like a Poison (Japan) and Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China), so I'll mention them here (fingers crossed they end well and stay favs).

That said, here are my favorite completed BLs of 2024 (alpha order)!

At 25:00 in Akasaka (Japan, Gaga)

Two actors who first met in college are cast in a bl together, old feelings resurface, and the lines between their professional and private lives start to blur. This show is super beautiful and moody.

Cooking Crush (Thailand, YouTube or WeTV for uncut)

Ten and Prem are my favorite of OffGun's many couples. Ten is a med student with food issues who wants to learn how to cook, and Prem is a chef in training. Their romance is super sweet and I also really like the side couple and friend groups in this one.

Cherry Magic Thailand (Thailand, YouTube or Viu, requires VPN)

I still can't believe this show happened. How on earth did GMMTV manage to make a superior version of Cherry Magic?? Tay Tawan had a lot to do with it, along with a very smart adaptation. It's so sweet and funny and perfect (if you just pretend ep 8 doesn't exist).

City of Stars (Thailand, iQIYI)

I was surprised by how much I liked this charming little Thai pulp. It had an interesting story with strong writing and the pair was very good together. More people should watch it!

I Became the Main Role of a BL Drama (Japan, Gaga)

This is a short and sweet and note perfect BL comedy about two actors falling for each other while making a BL. Loaded with meta jokes about the industry and stan culture and very loving about it.

Knock Knock Boys (Thailand, Gaga)

I am obsessed with this excellent Thai BL that not nearly enough people watched. Two couples, both compelling and sexy and fun, and amazing friendship dynamics. I want everyone to watch it!

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (S Korea, iQIYI)

My top BL of the year. It's a second chance romance, you see the characters both in high school and later as adults and I don't really want to spoil anything else about it. It's beautiful, the characters are so compelling, and the story is masterfully told.

Love for Love's Sake (S Korea, iQIYI)

This one is special and quite unique, and I also don't want to spoil much about it! It begins with a basic isekai set up that then goes to some unexpected places. Really, really beautiful show.

Love Sea (Thailand, iQIYI)

Definitely my favorite spicy romance of the year. I really loved a lot about the story for this one, in particular the class dynamics that defined the characters and their relationship, and Mahasamut (played by Fort) is on my list of favorite drama characters this year.

Marahuyo Project (Philippines, YouTube)

We didn't get much from the Philippines this year, but they did drop one absolute banger in this show about a fierce and proud gay kid who gets booted out of school in Manila and sent to live with his grandma and mother on a small island. He makes friends and enemies and starts an LGBTQ+ club, and falls in love along the way.

Mr Mitsuya's Planned Feeding (Japan, fansub)

An excellent age gap romance about a young editor and the chef who writes for his magazine making food together and falling in love. Lots of fun side characters, too. I loved every minute of this show.

Perfect Propose (Japan, Gaga)

Two old friends meet when one of them is in need of housing and one is on the verge of a nervous breakdown from a soul-sucking corporate job, and help each other heal. This one is short and sweet.

Ossan's Love Returns (Japan, Gaga)

This one is technically a sequel, but you can enjoy it without having seen the original (and might like it better that way, tbh). One of the funniest shows of the year and featuring a main couple that is a personal fav and are now on my ride or die list.

Takara's Treasure (Japan, Gaga)

This one is a simple story but so, so sweet. A cute little bean follows his mysterious idol to university and joins the hiking club to get to know him better. They get to know each other slowly and fall in love.

Unknown (Taiwan, Viki)

ALMOST my favorite bl of the year, but we had a few issues on the back end. Despite that, I still loved it a whole lot. A family drama and a love story about two chosen brothers whose relationship changes over time. Easily the best BL Taiwan made this year.

Looking at this list, I am realizing how absolutely invaluable my Gaga and iQIYI subscriptions have become; it's where nearly all my favorite BL is airing.

[cumikering]

Barista Keegan x reader

4.8k | fluff The barista at your campus library had the prettiest icy blues, striking against his black leather jacket

It was ten minutes to your next lecture. You gathered your laptop and notes off the table and took the last sip of your coffee – bland now because the ice had melted.

On your way out, you placed the dirty glass on the counter as you mumbled a thanks. The barista, always the same one with the prominent blue eyes, turned from the machine and nodded wordlessly over his shoulder.

The class was always slow, but the coffee helped you to not doze off. Besides, you had something to look forward to after. Outside the lecture hall, your best friend waved at you with a grin. You couldn’t help but return it. She linked arms with you and headed to the parking lot.

“I think I’m getting this,” Monty said as she held her phone out, showing you the birthday dress for her dinner the coming month. She’d been looking forward to the trip to the boutique for her dress fitting.

“Oh, that’s a lovely colour!” you gushed, admiring the pinkish champagne fabric. She would look gorgeous in it.

As you climbed into the front seat of her car, you stalled as you saw the barista again. It was your first time seeing him without his signature apron, but it wasn’t hard to recognise his jet-black hair and sharp jaw. He zipped up his leather jacket and swung his leg over his bike before looking up. The eye contact made your heart stop, but you quickly snapped your gaze away and strapped yourself in.

Monty chuckled, following your previous line of sight. “Is that the barista from the library?”

Out the windshield, he tipped his chin up slightly to fasten his helmet. It was enough for you to catch a glimpse of the movement of his thick neck. He leaned in, looking impressively built grasping the handlebar of his black motorbike as it came to life with a rumble. With the back of his boot, he flipped the kickstand up and rode away.

“I knew you always had a thing for bikers,” she teased.

You waved your hand dismissively, the heat creeping up your neck.

“Well, I was asking if you’d like a dress in a matching shade?”

“Of course! I have time this weekend, I can find-”             

“Great, because I was thinking you can try on some dresses with me too.” She beamed, starting her car. “The sooner the better, right?”

The outing lasted longer than expected - the both of you had too much fun trying on all the cute dresses. While Monty settled with her initial choice, you found a simple one in a complimentary shade. After dinner and a movie, she dropped you home close to 11. Unfortunately, it meant you had more schoolwork to do the next day to make up for it.

Last semester, the university got the library revamped with an atrium and a coffee shop. You’d made it a habit to study there, and inadvertently saw the barista a lot. You didn’t mean to. It was not your fault he worked there on the days you came in.

You usually came between classes, but that Friday was an exception. When you found yourself heading to the library after your only class, you told yourself it was because the atmosphere was less depressing than your cramped studio apartment. It didn’t hurt that the drinks were good.

Definitely not because of the handsome and tattooed barista with his pretty eyes. Or that his voice was ridiculously silky like he was purring when he repeated your order at the register. Did he always sound like that, or was it just his library voice?

“One iced caramel latte,” he called in a gentle tone.

From across the room, you made your way to the counter. When you looked up, he smiled at you.

Despite his deadpan tone and sharp eyes, it wasn’t that he was unfriendly. He was always polite, but it was your first time seeing him really smile – like he meant to.

You flashed him a smile in return as the butterflies stirred in your belly, but averted your gaze down to his nametag. Keegan R. Obviously still the same since you first saw it those months ago.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. You grabbed your drink and hurried back to your table.

You weren’t there to see him – wasn’t trying to. It wasn’t your fault he worked there, was it?

As you sipped between the pages of your textbook, you looked up to the darkening sky, the clouds swirling. The trees swayed in the wind before the first drop of rain splattered on the tall glass ceiling.

It looked like the rain would last a while. You pulled out your earbuds, preferring the pitter patter of the rain and powered through your essay. Thankfully, you weren’t stuck somewhere unpleasant, and you had almost two hours until the library closed. Surely the rain would have passed by then.

Wrong.

When a figure approached you, the rain had barely slowed.

“Just a heads up, dear, we close in 15 minutes,” the librarian said, always with the polite smile.

“Right. Okay.“

“Diana, mind if I lock up today? I’ll have to wait the rain out anyway,” Keegan chimed from his counter.

“Oh, sure,” she answered and looked back at you. “Well, you can stay longer then.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

As the last few students left the building, you thought it was Diana approaching your table once more, but it was Keegan instead.

“Would you like anything else to drink? On the house.”

“Sorry?”

“I get a free drink for each shift. I figured I’d make you something since you come here a lot.”

You didn’t know what to make of the fact that he noticed, but you smiled. “Dealer’s choice? Whatever’s convenient for you.”

You looked up when Diana bade her goodbyes to Keegan and dropped her keys off on the counter, leaving the both of you in the building. You supposed it was time for a break. You packed your books aside and pulled up a gameplay video of your latest obsession.

“One iced Franken-latte.” Keegan placed two cups on the table. “Or two. It didn’t fit in one glass.”

“A what?”

“Frankenstein latte. I’ve never tried it, but my coworker always makes it after his shift.”

So it wasn’t his library voice. His voice was that honeyed for no reason.

You tried to bite down your grin. “One for you then.”

“Why not.” He shrugged, blue eyes wondering to your laptop screen. “Is that A Way Out?”

“Yes! Have you played?”

He pulled out the chair next to you. “My roommate absolutely sucks at games so not more than an hour unfortunately. Have you?”

You shook your head. “Got no console,” you said, reaching for the cup. “Well, thanks for this.”

He hummed and followed suit after you took a sip of the unsuspecting latte.

You didn’t want to be rude, but your brows couldn’t help but knit. Your wary gaze slid to him. Was this a prank?

Keegan turned to you with a deadpan expression before sighing. “That tastes terrible.” He placed the cup back on the table. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have trusted Kick and his fruity, salted caramel toothpaste.”

You laughed. “What the hell is in this?”

“A dash of every syrup.” He got up, heat colouring his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. He swears it’s the best, but I’m not sure what he smokes anymore these days.” He gathered your cups and made his way behind the counter.

You followed him, still chuckling as he dumped the cursed lattes in the sink.

“Could I make you something else?” he called behind his shoulder.

“That’s fine.” You looked out the window. “I think the rain won’t last much longer anyway.”

He turned to you, seemingly wounded by the rejection. “I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t do it on purpose. I do hope that wouldn’t stop you from coming back.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be back, of course,” you reassured. “At least we can say we’ve tried every syrup.”

His shoulders relaxed as he gave you a small smile. As he cleaned his station for closing, you leaned against the wooden counter and asked what he’d been playing on his console. You discussed your favourite games and upcoming releases, finding that you both had a common taste in games.

You made him laugh. The way the deep rumble from his chest made you bite your lip, it was just as well he had his back to you. At least he wouldn’t catch you staring at his muscles casually flexing as he wiped down the already-spotless stainless-steel counters.

“All done now,” he announced, taking one last look at his work. He reached behind to remove his apron before excusing himself to the back of the house.

You almost didn’t notice the rain had stopped to a mere trickle. You, too, retreated to your table to pack your laptop. Embarrassment flared at how much you enjoyed looking at him and his tattooed arms. You could only do it from across the room, so how could anyone blame you for being greedy when you could stand so close? But you weren’t supposed to be admiring him any more than you already did whenever you studied, yet there you were, fuelling your aimless infatuation.

Moments after, he joined you at the door, now clad in his leather jacket and backpack, his shiny black helmet in hand.

“Thanks again for the drink,” you said as he locked up. “Keegan,” you added, albeit a little too late for it to sound natural.

He turned to you with a sparkle in his vibrant blue eyes. “You’re welcome. I promise to make you something better next time.”

You only realised now he was a few inches taller than you. You smiled before shifting your gaze to your feet and nodded.

“Where did you park?”

“I’m walking home.”

“Do you want a ride?” he asked, not missing a beat.

Keegan rode slow the few minutes to your apartment. He wore his backpack in reverse and said you could hold onto its straps - out of courtesy you hoped. He’d been too nice with the drink and ride, but at least your place was on his way to his, so you didn’t feel too bad.

You thanked him in front of your building, earning you a nod. Or maybe more, who knew, he had his helmet on. With that, you turned, chewing on your lip. The flutters were more than just from the thrill of the ride.

Being so close to him, you couldn’t help but inhale him in the breeze.  The sweet earthiness of leather, robust coffee, a hint of sweat, and a dash of smoke and gasoline somewhere in there. The scent would haunt you for a little longer.

After two steps, he called, “H-Hey- uh, hold on.“

Keegan couldn’t believe it. He got your number.

Never mind that he stumbled over his words when he asked. It didn’t help that the wind had tousled your hair making you even more adorable. But you smiled so sweetly when you handed his phone back to him and he had your number.

For months, each week you’d come to the library two out of the four days he worked. Of course he noticed. You’d pick the table in the far corner and study with your earphones on. You were always a little shy, never meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds each time. No matter, it meant he had more time to look at your pretty face up close, because otherwise he could only steal glances from afar.

In his last year of engineering degree, he had far fewer classes and could work more hours. But when he studied behind the counter, it didn’t feel as lonely with you there across the room.

But you were always just that to him: a muse, a fantasy, a distant company. He didn’t know any more than your name. He didn’t know what you studied, if you had a boyfriend… He didn’t even want to smile nor acknowledge this - what if he got too attached?

But that Thursday when you tore your gaze away from his in the parking lot, something shifted. Maybe he wasn’t just a dude who made your coffee after all.

So on Friday the next day when you unexpectantly came, Keegan couldn’t hold back his excitement. You usually came on Tuesday and Thursday, he assumed between classes. It was just his luck you stayed until closing so he could make a complimentary drink for his favourite customer. Baristas did that all the time, right?

However, in the flurry, he didn’t think through Kick’s recipe. He’d always been skeptical, but why else would his colleague make it so often? He should have listened to his guts because it was repulsive. But you laughed, and- oh God, you were so pretty. And you liked the games he liked? It was unbelievable.

So with his back to you, he scrubbed and scrubbed the counters as you chatted until his arms ached. He didn’t want to turn to you and look creepy with his uncontainable grin. Would he ever get another chance to talk to you like this again?

He spent his entire weekend itching to say something to you, but he couldn’t figure out what to text and therefore was forced to wait until you’d drop by the library again. He didn’t see you on Monday, as he’d expected. But when Tuesday afternoon came around, the buzz in him intensified. Any minute now.

When you approached the glass door, he busied himself, not wanting to look like a puppy with its wet nose against the window as its tail wagged. But when you said hello, he whipped to you so fast, the grin already on his face.

“Hi. What can I get you today?”

You smiled, maybe even laughed a little. Did his voice crack?

Your gaze dropped to the summer menu. “One pink lemonade, please.”

He tapped on the tablet. “My treat. To make up for the other day.”

“Oh, no. You can’t do that-“

He turned to the fridge. “Coming right up.”

You placed the bills into the tip jar instead.

On your way to your next class, you placed the dirty cup on the counter. “Thanks, Keegan. See you around.”

He made his way to you and cleared his throat. “I can give you a ride home on Thursday if you want,” he said, remembering last week when he saw you at the parking lot. “I’ll bring my old helmet you can wear.”

“Oh, you’ve been too nice. Thanks so much, but I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I really don’t mind, but that’s only if you want to.”

You smiled. “If you say so.”

When your lecture ended that Thursday, Keegan was already waiting with a tumbler of lemonade and two helmets. You came out with a girl next to you, radiant as you chatted with her. She’d come to the library a few times with you to get her caramel macchiato with oat milk.

You did a double take, but your smile widened when your pretty eyes met his. You were supposed to meet him at the library, but he’d taken the liberty to surprise you instead. You introduced him to your friend Montana who didn’t bother to hide the knowing look she shot your way.

It only made his stomach flip. Was he being too obvious?

In front of his bike, you waved goodbye at Montana as she drove off. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea riding in the summer, a fact he’d never mulled over until he stood there as you sipped your ice cold lemonade. He gulped.

With a small laugh, you offered the last half of the drink, which he gladly chugged. It was just what he needed.

He handed you his old helmet, deep red - his first one. It was perfectly functional, albeit scuffed up from all the times he carelessly dropped it onto the grating pavement, or knocked it over tables and chairs over the years.

“Do you have anywhere to be?”

He zipped his jacket up. “No. Why?”

“You want to get something to eat?”

He smiled. “We can go anywhere.”

Keegan picked his favourite burger joint, the one at the pier. You chatted as you ate, and as pretty as the ocean was outside, the air conditioning indoors was too comfortable to pass up on. You shared another serving of fries, and he wished the table was smaller so he could be closer to you.

Why did it feel so good being around you? There was no awkward silence even when no words were exchanged. The quiet was easy; on his brain too, because he’d never been the chattiest in the room. You exuded serenity, the kind that gave him a dash of nervousness that kept his stomach tossing in delight. He couldn’t look away - he wanted to lean in closer and closer.

You insisted on paying, and with a pleased smile, he let you. It would simply be an excuse to return the favour with more drinks.

Later when you hopped on his bike, he didn’t expect for your arms to wrap around his waist. His breath hitched. Was this really happening? Surely, you only did this for safety purposes. He shouldn’t be reading that much into it. Although it would be embarrassing if you could feel his heartbeat going crazy if you leaned in any longer.

When you got off his bike in front of your building, he turned to you and popped his visor up.

You took the helmet off and handed it back to him. “Thanks for today, Keegan.”

“You’re welcome.” He took it with a grin. “I had fun.”

You smiled. “Me too.”

“I was wondering… If you’d like to come over and play A Way Out tomorrow? Alex should be home too. We can get pizza for dinner after.” He was glad his face was covered because he could have sworn he was beet red under it. “Only if you have time, of course.”

You averted your eyes, but your smile only brightened. “I’d like that.”

“Then you keep this. For tomorrow.” He held out the helmet towards you.

And so it became a routine.

Some days, Keegan would wait with a drink in his tumbler in front of your lecture hall before heading to his own class. Once a week, you’d make him sandwiches for lunch and drop them off at the library. Sometimes you’d do schoolwork there together.

He tried to not make it obvious that every now and then he’d linger around to spend a little more time with you, be it to grab a bite or to simply give you a ride home – something he always did when your schedules allowed anyway. But on Fridays, you always came over to his place to game.

Not only was co-op gaming with you insanely fun, he also guided you on how to play some of his favourite single-player games. The way you’d laugh in delight, he could listen to you all day. And he did, sitting next to you watching you play. This was more his thing anyway: enjoying your presence without having to always talk.

Ajax, who was reserved (if he wasn’t, Keegan wouldn’t have been close friends with him since high school, let alone be his flatmate), didn’t take long to warm up to you either. While he was quiet at the first pizza dinner, he lingered whenever he emerged out of his room, standing by the couch munching on his potato chips as he nodded approvingly at each shot you got. Soon, he would wedge himself next to Keegan to cheer you on and hype you up.

You’d turn to him with a proud smile. Yeah, he could sit there next to you all day.

Meanwhile, something had been brewing in Keegan’s mind. He’d been wanting to take you to the helmet shop too pick out something you like, but he was worried it was too forward, too much of a commitment. What if you got the wrong idea? Well, evidently, he did want to articulate that idea, but what if he scared you away instead? He hadn’t even held your hand.

And so he did what he did best: be patient and wait. He’d rather be sure you were comfortable with him than rush into things and ruin any chance he had with you. No matter how subtle, you would give him signs, right?

The last Saturday before Monty’s birthday, you went out for ice cream with her before going to her final fitting. When she suggested dinner afterwards, you told her you’d made plans with Keegan.

“So what’s going on with you and him?” she asked as she smoothed down her dress, smiling teasingly through the large full length mirror.

“Nothing.”

“He’ll be your plus one at my dinner, right?” She twisted, inspecting the dress on her.

“What? No! He doesn’t see me like that.” You swatted your hand. “We’re just friends,” you trailed off, trying to not slump in your seat.

“He definitely likes you! Why else would you be out with him on Saturday night?”

“He doesn’t. He… He never makes a move.” Your gaze dropped to the ground.

Monty marched to you and gripped you by the shoulders. “Oh my God! How is waiting outside your lecture hall with a freshly made drink only to give you a ride home not a move?”

“But…”

“I would have believed if you told me he didn’t have the muscles to smile, until I saw him with you.” She shook her head. “The poor guy. Put him out of his misery already!”

When Keegan picked you up for dinner from the boutique, Montana was all smiles while you couldn’t seem to hold his gaze.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, handing you the helmet.

You shook your head, fastening the strap.

You’d tell him when you were ready, and he could be patient. But at the taco place as he stared at you staring at your hands under the table – it was uncharacteristic of him, the silence grated against him. Did he do something?

“Did I-“

“Keegan,” you started at the same time, eyes flicking to him before dropping back.

“Yes?” he asked hopefully.

“Would you want to come to Monty’s dinner with me?”

He grinned, relieved. “Of course, yes. It would be my pleasure.”

As if the tension had melted, you were your normal self again, giggly and warm. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but you held his gaze longer than usual. He liked it. He loved looking into your pretty eyes. He scooted his seat closer to the table, letting his foot rest against yours. You didn’t move away.

For dessert, he got you a churro from the food truck nearby. His stomach flipped when your fingers brushed his when he handed it to you.

On the way to yours, at the red light – oh, he’d been aching to do this for weeks - he finally plucked up the courage to squeeze his hand over yours as you held onto his waist. You held on tighter. He liked to think you smiled behind him, the shy kind perhaps. You always looked adorable with it.

Over the next week, you sat a little closer to him – maybe only an inch or two, but it didn’t elude him. You didn’t look away nearly as much as you used to either. He liked that you were finally comfortable enough with him.

In a burst of confidence, he grasped your hand as he walked you to class. It made his heart flutter whenever you’d look up at him with a smile like that. You walked closer to him, your other hand clasped over his tattooed arm. He bit down his grin.

Before Keegan knew it, it was Montana’s birthday.

That evening, in front of the bathroom mirror, he brushed his fingers through his hair and leaned in, inspecting his handiwork. Was it supposed to look this way? He hadn’t had to style his hair in such a long time (his helmet wouldn’t have allowed it).

“Dude, you look fine, I swear,” Ajax called from the couch. “She already likes you anyway.”

He stood in front of the doorway facing his roommate, voice hopeful. “Are you sure?”

He did a once over as Keegan smoothed down his crisp black button down and dark jeans. Freshly shaved, he’d also put on some cologne for the occasion.

“Affirmative. Just go already!” He slipped past him, slamming the bathroom door behind him. “I’ve been holding my piss in for half an hour!”

He laughed and bade his goodbye, not forgetting to pick up the keys on the table. Ajax had told him to drive his car for the night, an offer he gratefully took.

At your door, Keegan shifted his weight as he, once more, examined his boots, his hands shoved in his pockets. When you opened the door, his greeting wedged in his throat.

“You’re-“ His eyes scanned down your outfit, letting out an inaudible ‘wow’. “You’re gorgeous.”

You were stunning in your peach dress, the shade complementing your skin. You’d done your hair too, pretty in your heels and glossy lips.

You smiled, reaching to place a hand on his forearm. “Thank you. You look really nice yourself.”

At the venue, Montana lit up when she saw you, but clasped her hand over her laughter when she registered the large gift you carried. She donned a sequin dress, the shade similar to yours. You embraced and gushed over each other’s outfit before her attention turned to the Hello Kitty plushie you cradled. She wore a pink helmet and a matching racing suit - you told him she was a Formula One fan. He smiled. It was endearing how much you adored each other.

Montana had assigned her boyfriend, Troy, and you to sit next to her, with Keegan by your side. She would have liked the Hello Kitty to get her own seat at the table too, alas, she didn’t RSVP and had to sit among the other gifts. As you chatted with the neighbouring guests at dinner, your hand on his thigh comforted him. He didn’t usually like large gatherings, especially one where he didn’t know most of the attendants, but you didn’t make him feel left out as you included him in the conversation. His hand enveloped yours in appreciation as he tried to hide his smile behind his glass.

After dessert, the ladies got up to dance to the upbeat music. You and your girls laughed on the dancefloor, enjoying yourselves. He couldn’t help the grin that bloomed on his face. Did you always look that beautiful?

Focused on you, he didn’t realise Montana had made her way to him.

“Go dance with her.”

Keegan chuckled. He didn’t know how to dance.

“Come on, don’t make her wait too long now.” She walked away, shooting a teasing smile over her shoulder.

He let out a small laugh as he pushed his chair back. If he had to embarrass himself, you were the only one he wanted to do it for. As he approached, your girls stepped away with a giggle, making you frown in confusion.

At the sight of him, you relaxed.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

You nodded, your smile widening.

He took a step in, tentatively resting his hands on your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and started swaying. He followed, careful to not step on your toes, but honestly, he was content to bask in the proximity and simply stare into your eyes like so.

Just as he thought the electronic music wasn’t ideal, the song abruptly changed into something slower. You laughed. Montana couldn’t have been more obvious with this, huh?

Your thumb brushed the nape of his neck, sending tingles down his spine. With a shaky breath, he leaned in, forehead resting against yours before shutting his eyes. This close, he could smell you – sweet and soft.

Were his palms sweating? Probably, but he couldn’t tell with the way they fitted perfectly on your waist.

You rested your cheek on his shoulder, but must have felt his heartbeat picking up because you looked up at him with an amused look.

His icy blues were already on you, tender yet intense. “Can I kiss you?”

Your brilliant smile was all the answer he needed. Against your lips, he sighed deeply as his fingers curled over your waist, wanting to stay in the moment longer. You seemed to feel the same, your arms wrapping tighter around him as you pressed your body against his.

When you pulled away, he chuckled in awe while you looked away.

He tilted your face up to him, thumb brushing over your cheek. “We should get you your own helmet.”

“I’d like that,” your murmured against his smile.

Masterlist Tinder Keegan Neighbour Keegan Werewolf Keegan

Happy birthday to @operationdeadbolt my first ever Keegan simp friend!! You’re such a cutie bundle of sunshine. I adore the way you love so much, so generously, gushing over the things you like. Talking to you always makes me smile, and you inspire me to keep enjoying life, to be grateful. You gave me the moon and I always think of you when I see it

Thank you for reminding me there is joy to be found everywhere. I hope happiness and resilience are always with you every step of the way. Here’s to many more times we’re going to crush on cod dudes <3

[aryesdanger24]

I will be honest, I've seen the post a lot too and to me it has a different meaning. I think it is showing 2 different types of relationships. Not just wlw and mlm relationships, but the idea that there is a 3rd options that both are important. That even though one ship isn't shown in a physical way that doesn't mean it is any less gay than cannon ship.

For too long gay relationships were only shown through physicality, specifically gay men in relationships is always shown in aggressive physicality while lesbians in media feel overly said more than seen, less physical and more mental.

This feels like it flips the script on a lot of the stereotype that lesbians in films are always soft touches rather than heavy physical touches and quick to act like CaitVi (yes i know there is a joke about how fast lesbian relationships move, but i meant in media it often doesn't show that).

Men on the otherside often get straight (hehe) to fucking to 'confirm' their sexualitys or relationships whereas this with Jayvik is very much that soft word filled confirmations of love.

So this meme doesn't feel like a 'haha look at this and compare' as much as it feels like a 'id like to bring your attention to how these relationships went and how confusing this will be for the straights to compare'.

Also I think it is people just wondering why Jayvik didn't get their happy ending rather than just bypassing CaitVi and their more traditionally happy ending.

I think it's people who don't know how to process what happened with Jayvik so they are comparing how CaitVi got a normal ending and the confusion of how to deal with Jayvik.

In short:

Wlw relationships are much harder to come by and many people are happy that Caitlyn and Vi got all the good writing into their characters to really enjoy the progress of their relationship. Jayviks's ending is more confusing that people can't help but compare and wonder (in the words of Arcane) what could have been.

This post, to me, is subjective to the viewer. Some can see it as trashing on CaitVi or on Jayvik. Some may interpret it as a show to how different their endings can be in the media of today. Some may even view it as the idea that despite a ship not being cannon, it can be just as gay and important as one shown on screen.

I personally love both of their endings and hate both for different reasons. Their pros and cons to each and yet it fit for them in a way I can't be mad at BECAUSE they are so well written as characters!

P.S. I didnt make the meme at all but I simply wanted to not assume the makers goal of sharing it into one of negativity. Unless the main poster is definitely some mlm supremacist or lesbian hater or something because then, by all means, bash that bitcherous. Until I see some evidence against the original meme maker I will just see it the way I see it, a way someone is coping with their idea of an 'unsatisfying' ending for Jayvik by comparing it to the more canonically physical confirmation of CaitVi

(Personally, I don't find the endings dissatifying, though, but that's just me)

Someone else's post:

~

I have seen so many posts like the one above in the last 24 hours and honestly, it's starting to piss me off. I know the majority of tumblr users aren't wlw, but do you know how patronising this kind of thing is? This was the most beautiful, intimate, lovingly animated lesbian sex scene, between two rich, well-drawn, compelling characters, but over and over, I see people comparing it unfavourably to Jayce and Viktor's final scene. The story between two men is seen as more powerful, more meaningful, gayer, deeper, than the one between two women.

Look, it's fine to enjoy the mlm ship more. I support you! I think Jayvik is cool! But can you all please, please, stop acting like it's inherently better just because the lesbian story didn't happen to be written for your personal tastes, this one time?

(Also, to answer the question: as a lesbian, I promise you, the lesbian sex is much, much gayer. You're just not the target audience.)

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

attractive things that the blue lock men do.

itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[yuurei20]

I see you mention Magical Archives a lot. Is that like an official artbook? Can I get it in English somewhere?

Hello hello! Thank you so much for this question, I have been hoping to write about this for weeks 🥳

The Magical Archives Game Guide vol. 1 (full name: 『ディズニー ツイステッドワンダーランド』公式ガイド＋設定資料集 Magical Archives ) is maybe the single-most informative Twisted Wonderland resource available!

It includes a huge amount of extremely detailed information, from gameplay to the characters to early-stage development illustrations to a multi-page interview with Toboso Yana herself, only one of two that she has ever given on Twisted Wonderland.

While it may be described as an artbook it is also much, much more, and if you are only capable of purchasing one piece of Twst merchandise in your life, it is absolutely the #1 thing I would recommend.

First published in 2020 it is still available for purchase from outlets such as Square Enix's Online Store, Amazon, Rakuten, Animate and more.

It is not currently available in English, but for a brief while Aniplex USA was releasing "Player Guides" for free via social media:

These were multi-page PDFs that were, visually, quite similar to the first 1/3rd of the Magical Archives game guide, but with updated gameplay information.

These game-guide-inspired PDFs combined with how out of date the gameplay information in the original guide has since become makes me wonder if maybe there not are any plans for any official translation of the original Magical Archives :<

There has since been a second volume of the Magical Archives released (in September 2024), but it is not quite as detailed as its predecessor, including gameplay information and a huge library of game sprites but very few sketches from Yana and no interviews.

On the subject of translated art books, there actually is an official English-language book being released in December!

While its English-language title is "The Official Artbook," this is actually one of four books of a series called "Visual Books!"

Much like the magical archives the first volume is the most detailed, including pre-colored base art and the occasional messages from Yana to the colorist (re: a comment that there is no need to put any light in Rook's eyes for his labwear vignette groovy ww).

The Visual Book Series is not really comparable to the Magical Archives, consisting of pre- and post-groovy card art.

The "Design Note" might be the closest to the usual definition of "artbook," consisting of insight into event outfits worn by various characters and even including a few sketches of unused designs.

Unlike the Magical Archives, however, there are no behind-the-scenes notes such as "He has a black-hearted side, so he may laugh with a hint of that often" (about Trey) and "He has vertically-slit pupils that become round in dark places" (about Leona), which can only be found in the game guide.

There are also volumes 1 and 2 of the Art Gallery! These are collections of artwork by artists that are unaffiliated with Twisted Wonderland, depicting Twst's characters, much like Square-Enix-branded fan art (no contribution from Yana involved).

Lastly, there are the fanbooks! Contrary to their titles they do not consist of any fan-made content.

Volume 1 of the Fanbook mostly consists of character/story overview, but it also has some fascinating etymology information and exclusive interviews with several members of the voice cast!

The second fanbook focuses moreso on events, and also includes detailed recipes of Master Chef cuisine, a report on the since-concluded Twisted Wonderland Exhibition, a look into a Twst-themed hotel room in Tokyo Disneyland's Ambassador Hotel, and more.

And a third fanbook was just recently listed 🥳 (Amazon link), said to include event, card and story content from the 2nd to the 4th anniversaries.

I hope this helps! ^^

[slvtforfiction]

Stalker!Ghost (part 2)

☆ Stalker!Ghost X Reader

☆ Fluff

☆ TW stalking obvs

☆ New account layout,will try change old layout as much as possible,requests are open

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Divider creds @cafekitsune :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post | Part 1

☆ After a while Ghost seemed to be a bigger part of your life than you realised,a bigger comfort than knowingly willing.

☆ You seemed to find yourself excited to see when he would reply to your notes next,hiding off in your bedroom sometimes intentionally so that he would come into your house and reply.

☆ You had come to the conclusion that if he wanted to hurt you he would’ve by now. He had told you descriptions of how you looked at work,how the guy that yelled at you was ‘dealt with’ he knew everything about your life and seemed to protect you yet you had no idea why so whilst writing your next note you included the question.

☆ Hey Ghost, how come you chose me? Like why are you helping me? I would say you barely know me but you seem to know me more than I know myself haha.

Love,Y/n.

☆ You quickly scribbled out the ending,reminding yourself for a moment that this man was stalking you quite literally.

☆ The idea scared you but you supposed he was closer to a guardian angel rather than anything.

☆ After a few hours of listening to music in your room you slipped downstairs to grab yourself a drink,almost forgetting about the note you left until you saw it replaced with a familiar sticky note.

☆ Because you’re a beautiful woman,truly. I see what you do for other people even when others don’t. A beautiful person. I saw you scribble out the ending,don’t be afraid of me dove.

Love,Ghost.

☆ You stared at the note for a moment before writing out yet another note.

☆ Thank you haha,when can I know what you look like though? Can I not even get your phone number or something so you don’t have to break into my house every time I wanna talk to you?

☆ You wrote out the note before grabbing your original drink and heading back upstairs,hoping for a reply soon.

☆ In some sick way you had grown unscathed by the man that entered your house while you weren’t home,the man who entered your house while you actually were home,sitting upstairs oblivious to the rest of the home.

☆ In your mind you continued to remind yourself that he’s your stalker and he’s dangerous but there’s a part of you that just doesn’t believe that voice in your head telling you to run.

☆ You fall asleep soon after writing that note though awake a few hours later to see a pile of your underwear,carefully folded and cleaned and you smile realising that Ghost has been in yet come to the horrific discovery that that man had seen you sleeping.

☆ If he was going to hurt you he would’ve done it by now. You remind yourself before walking downstairs to read his note again.

☆ You ain’t gonna see what I look like any time soon lovie,hope you enjoy your washing.

You can message me on this number.

1567-####-####

Love,Ghost.

☆ You smiled now that you had finally gotten even a little bit of information about him and you quickly ran upstairs as you grabbed your phone typing in the number and sending it a message.

☆ Ghost?

☆ You smile as the phone quickly lights up after your message was sent.

☆ Hey lovie.

Hey guys if you like this post you should follow my Wattpad to get a notification when I post my ghost fic! It’s Christmas themed,slow burn and I know you’ll all definitely love it - Char 💞

Wattpad

out nov 25th 00:00 gmt*

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing Homicipher Characters to Your Plushies - Pt. 3 !

The Homicipher Characters come to you in hopes for whatever insanity they plan to drag you into, you instead have a different plan! Showing them your plushies!

Notes: Gender Neutral Reader! This Part includes: Ms. Bride, Ms. Nurse, Ms. Blue-Clad, Hairdresser, & Adami ! Girls Round 🫶

Previous Parts: One & Two

Ms. Bride

So cute !!!!!! Oh my gosh !!!! She loves your plushies so much !!!

She immediately wants to put them in cute little outfits! Please let her do so she'll love you even more than she does now!

You both have so much fun with your plushies, she loves them as equally as you do.

She memorizes all the names and any lore you may have and also their importance to you.

If you so desire she'd love to see up little tea parties or something with them. It'd be a lot of fun! You could put together your own wedding with them as the guests as well!!!

She did not know how much she adored plushies until she met you and she's so happy that she did. Please get her some plushies of her own. She'll got absolutely insane dressing them up and will never let them go.

Ms. Nurse

She loves you and your plushies a lot !!! You're so adorable when you talk about them and she loves when you do !!

As a nurse she completely understands how plushies and other small gifts can help comfort a person. So she knows just how important they are to you and will never judge you for that ever.

If she ever sees you remotely upset she will bring over the plushies she knows that brings you the most comfort and place them on you.

She finds some comfort in the plushies as well, and she would be over the moon if you got matching ones for you and her.

I'm not sure how much she knows how to sew, but if she sees a hole or anything on one she'll wrap it up in bandages to make sure the stuffing doesn't fall out!

It's hurt after all! She's gotta take care of it and help it and you feel better in any way that she is capable of.

Overall, she's a huge lover of plushies, and loves that you love them too! 10000% memorized all their names after that day you told her about them.

Ms. Blue-Clad

She seems like the type to like plushies a lot. Though I think she prefers when they're smaller plushies rather than the bigger ones.

She'll listen to you talk about them but I'm not sure how much she's actually memorizing about them. If anything she's just looking at the different colors and creatures they are.

Any blue plushies you have she immediately adores. Those are her favorites.

Bonus points if you get her one later on.

That being said! She thinks you're adorable when you're talking about them!!!

She wants to smother you in kisses so badly!!! And she probably will.

Honestly so long as you are happy and smiling, I think she is as well.

Hairdresser

... Do any of them need haircuts?

If you say no she'll totally understand. But if you allow her to give one or two a haircut she'll still make sure they look super cute!!

I don't think she had deep thoughts on the plushies, but she will listen to you talk about them. Especially if you let her do your hair while you talk.

Might occasionally bring you one or two she comes across while looking for her scissors if she loses them.

I don't know if she'll memorize all their names but she definitely remembers the ones you talk about the most.

Decorate her little salon with plushies!

She will allow it only because it's you. Plus, she does really like the fact it adds some character.

Adami Adashino

Staring blankly. This girl walked into her partner's house covered in blood said partner just starts rambling on about plushies.

Honestly, she can't deny she's endeared.

10000% the type to get cuteness aggression.

Can and will start squeezing and pinching your cheeks and such. But she can't help it!!! Look at how adorable you are!!

She will learn their names for you but she doesn't always remember them very well.

But like. You still think she's cuter than your plushies right? Right?

If you don't say yes prepare for her to be jealous. Good luck!

[writingredrose]

for a good cause | Rollo x reader

summary : While having fun at the festival with your friends, you're oblivious to your own guilt and grudge. Luckily, he's here to show you the truth.

warnings : reader is Yuu and she's implied to be a girl ; swearing

a / n : HAD LOTS OF FUN WITH THIS ONE Y'ALL WO!!! Yuu betraying the NRC my beloved. Also I was definitely NOT writing this AND watching the event at the same time and that's definitely NOT why is it so short haha...

A TOAST TO @pomefioredove FOR INSPIRING ME!! Hope you like it <3 🫶🏻🩷

P.S : maybe some grammatical mistakes or weird wording, sorry, English ain't my first language :')

The horrors, the stress, the neglect about every single thing involving your mentality and your body... all of these curses that came upon you when you first set foot in the halls of Night Raven Collage could never be cured, could they? That's what you thought before you met him. He said he can save you...

Can he? Please, you have to let him save you...

The beautiful scenery in the main hall of Nobel Bell Collage never failed to catch your eye. The way the light of the sun illuminated the beautiful stained windows could never not be pretty. Compared to the dark halls of NRC, this school was twice as pretty, that's what you thought since coming here, but you'd never dare tell anyone, you didn't need another reason for people to look down on you as they always do.

“Something must've caught your eye for you to stop in your tracks like that, no?” The voice coming from behind you was as calm and neutral as ever. You caught with the corner of your eye the figure stopping right next to you, looking where your eyes did just a moment ago. “Well, you're never wrong are you?” You let out a silent laugh, at which the figure moved his eyes in you. “The glass...is beautiful. It never fails to amaze me. You don't see this at Night Raven” Your eyes went up to look at the glass again, the one next to you looking in the same place you were. “Hm, your comments make me think that Night Raven Collage isn't that amazing of a school that everyone would die to go in” You snorted at his snarky remark right before covering your mouth. You'd think he hates everyone from that school, but again, maybe he is, at how is looking at them, who can say he doesn't? “Didn't take you for the humorous type, Rollo„

Ah there it is again. Ever since you came here, Rollo can't seem to get tired of the way his name rolls off your tongue. He's heard about you, the magicless prefect who's came from another world. And goodness, you're... perfect. Everything about you, is absolutely perfect. Your face, your voice, your silhouette, everything about you... and on top of all you're so... pure. So pure, he can sense it, the essence of it right in your soul, he wishes to keep it to himself forever, he'd never let anyone touch something so pure and beautiful. Stain it with their dirty magic.

He looked at you again, your form snickering oh so close to his body. “Was it really that funny? I was simply saying what is on my mind...” Your laughing came to a stop, now having your attention fully on him. “I know, it's just the way you said it is all. It was funny. And I mean, you are kind of right. Sure Night Raven is a big school, no denying that. But! I guess you could say the inside is a bit... boring” At your words Rollo let out a laugh himself. “Hmph! Boring? I've known you for a day and I'm sure you can find a better word than boring„ “Meh, I don't wanna be mean is all” Your kindness was also something Rollo adored about you. He can see who you are under all that fake kindness you put on for your little friends at NRC. Right under all of that, the essence of your soul is naked under his praying eyes. He knows you're tired, tired of that school. Maybe he can use that for himself.

The songs and happy voices of the many people surrounding you were loud but not entirely unwelcome. After each group that was made earlier today finished their stroll through the busy streets, it was now time for everyone to gather in one place for the big show. You were currently sitting next to Rollo, watching from far away the boys who were having fun creating fireworks for the townfolk.

You couldn't help but scowl at the sight. It was so irritating, but why exactly...? “Are you alright?” Rollo's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Judging by that scowl on your face, I'd say you're ready to rip everyone's heads off” You looked at him, he was looking at you from the corner of his eye, and just for a second, you caught a glint of amusement in them. He was joking. How is it that he only does it when he's with you? You've been observing his actions ever since you came here and he seems to be a totally different person when he's with you. The handkerchief that always seems to be present when he speaks with other people, he never has it when he's with you.

Isn't it weird?

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'm ok. I just...well...” The silver haired boy turns his head to fully look at you, waiting for an answer “I just... don't like the loud music, at all. It always gives me the biggest headache” Rollo let out an almost silent hm, and looked in front of him again. A minute passed before he spoke again.

“Who are you trying to lie to? Me or yourself?”

...what?

The weight of his glace almost crushes you. You could feel his sharp emerald eyes looking at you, no... looking through you, you knew damn well that right now the one called Rollo Flamme was looking straight into your soul, ready to burn it to ashes at any moment.

You turned your head away from him, unable to return the gaze. “I... don't know what you're talking about, Rollo. I'm not lying to myself at all. I told you the truth” He didn't stop looking through you. “Is that so? Because when your eyes are directed exactly to your little friends over there, it's hard to think that it's just the music that's bothering you” You were at a loss of words.

He was right wasn't he?

He knew

Of course he did

After all why bother hide it anymore?

You hated their guts...

You HATED that school

You hate THEM

YOU HATE IT

YOU HATE THIS DAMNED WORLD.

This time, you looked him straight in the eyes. And he knew, Rollo finally realized he got it. He was almost shocked at how easy it was to crack your fake facade. You were like him weren't you? You hated magic just like he hated it. You loathed the evil-doers of this world, the magic users. He knew he was right, he knew he was right to fall in love with you.

He couldn't help but smirk when he saw your eyes. So much hatred. My, how he loved that look of yours. “And what do you plan on doing now?” Your voice took a much more serious tone than earlier. He simply let out a laugh. “Me? Why nothing at all. All I need you to do — Rollo fully turned his body to you, slowly leaning to look into your eyes — is to listen to what I have to say”

The music of the festival could be heard even from the depths of the wall of the waterway tunnels. Rollo was guiding you, with a lantern in his hand, through what seemed like an endless darkness. And after what seemed like an eternity, you were the first one who spoke. “So what exactly do you plan on doing? You haven't explained anything to me at all Rollo” He kept walking, not saying a word. More minutes passed and you were getting more and more annoyed, when was he going to- “Why is it that you hate your friends so much? When I first saw you I could hardly tell you hated their guts” You fell silent at his question, why is it that you hate them? After all ever since you came here- ...oh, that's right. You know don't you? “You want the truth? I'll tell you. I simply hate their guts. Ever since I came here I have been nothing but an obedient little dog to them. Cleaning all the mess they did after every overblot I was the one to clean the mess. Trouble? That idiot Crowley has me going to solve it. Students fighting? Of course, I'm the one to blame. I'm fucking tired, I'm so damn tired of all of them. No one, not a single one at that school has ever cared to check on me, because who cares?!? I'm a magicless student aren't I? I don't have feelings or anything right? I'm just a damn MAGICLESS HUMAN WHO LISTEN LIKE A FUCKING DOG!”

Rollo didn't flinch at the sudden punch you landed on the wall next to you. You stopped walking a while ago, fully turned to you, Rollo watched your actions carefully, seeming to enjoy how you slowly became a victim to your own hatred, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark hole you made for yourself ever since stepping into this world. Stepping closer to you, Rollo raised your chin to look him in the eyes, the light of the lamp allowing you to see his beautiful yet empty emerald eyes. “See now? That's exactly why I guided you here. Your hatred for them is exactly what I need. So beautiful and so dangerous it is” Moving closer, he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair. “What are you?-„ “So pure and so beautiful you are” You widened your eyes, your face growing warmer at his somewhat bold statement. He let go of you, grabbing your face once again, this time his being closer than it was before, the lamp illuminating half of his face as you saw the look in his eyes.

Predatory admiration. You could see it in the way he looked at you. Eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Raw hunger that felt almost otherworldly.

“Tell me now, Y/N. I can save you, get rid of all those dark thoughts from your head, give you a better life. I can protect you. All you need to do, is give me your word. Let me be your sanctuary” Your breathing became heavy...can he? Can he truly save you? You'd wished to escape this for so long, you're so tired. You'd let him-

“Please, Rollo... — you grabbed onto his clothes, afraid that if you'd let go he'd abandon you just like the others — I'll- I'll let you. Please, be my sanctuary” Rollo's eyes flickered with raw desire. “Very well then”

The lamp in Rollo's hands dropped on the floor as his hand held your chin so you could look in his eyes. His other hand entangled into your hair, finally pulling you for a long awaited kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, every ounce of self control disappeared. He'd been waiting for this longer than he dared to admit. If only you knew what you were doing to him. You eagerly returned the kiss, your hands diving into his hair, careful to not let his hat slip off his head, lips moving in perfect harmony as you've done this hundreds of times before. And when you parted for the first time, your panting echoed through the dark halls.

You looked at him with red cheeks, and before you could stop it you let the words “I love you„ spill from your mouth. You knew your confession came out in a trembling voice, even if you didn't know why. Rollo looked at you and once again he kissed you, this time harder and urgent. He knew you knew he was telling you the same, that what he can't put into words he'll put into this kiss.

A long while passed until you two parted. Damned oxigen, you thought. The silver haired in front of you brought you closer to his face so that your foreheads touched. “How can you be magicless when I can swear that you bewitched me somehow. I'm not myself when I'm with you, did you know that? The things you do to me...” You giggled at his remark, kissing him once more which he happily returned. “Yeah? Well, I'm glad it's me. I'm glad you chose me Rollo” He smiled softly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Picking up the lamp from the floor, he took your hand and guided you now towards the light that shot up at the end of the tunnel. “Come now my dear, I'm sure you'll like what you're going to see”

The many candles in the Nobel Bell Collage hall illuminated brightly. The students who came for the symposium were all gathered in the hall, waiting for whatever was to come. Suddenly, the loud sound of the bell echoed through the whole school. “The Bell of Salvation? At this time of the night?” Silver looked around him surprised by the tolls of the bell. “If I recall, we were told that the bell tolled there times a day no? Once in the morning, then evening and night. And I'm pretty sure we heard the toll for the night some hours ago. So what could the reason for this one be? Riddle's face twisted in confusion, his brows furrowing trying to figure out what's going on. “U-uhm, am I the only one who's seeing t-that?” Upon hearing Idia's voice, everyone looked in his direction.“What's that? A flower??” In front of them, growing from the ground, there was a beautiful crimson flower, one that had its petals beautifully colored just like wild flames. “What's a flower doing in the middle of the-” *crack* Another one made its way through the floor, cracking the tiles in the process. And then another, followed by thousands slowly covering the whole hall. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Sebek's voice echoed through the hall now full of crimson flowers. “Evreyone! They-they passed out!” In the blink of an eye, every single student who got close to the flowers had passed out cold and they couldn't be woken up.

Fire Lotuses. Dangerous yet beautiful flowers that supposedly went extinct centuries ago. These flowers grew by feeding themselves with magic, sucking it out of people leaving them with no ounce of magic to live with. The methods of extinction were not revealed, therefore there was no way to stop them.

“Standing in this hall while everyone else is passed at your feet is quite pitiful. Don't you think?”

Fighting and fighting, the students tried but there was no end to those flowers, if they can't use magic then they can't do anything. “Y/N! Make sure you stay beh-...what?” Deuce had called for you, but he now realized...you were nowhere to be found. “Y/N?!? NO! SHIT! WHERE ARE YOU?!” Hearing his calls, the others looked around them, you were nowhere in sight. “GRIM! Did you not see where she went?!?” Sebek picked up the panicked cat, who had thought you came back with him, your quietness being a normal thing at school so he didn't bother checking if you were truly there, blaming himself for your disappearance. “I-I don't know! I thought she was behind me I swear!” On the verge of crying he started shaking in Sebek's arms, the boy putting him down taking pity on him. “WE NEED TO FIND THE PREFECT NOW! AND SEE TO WHAT CAUSED THESE FLOWERS TO APPEAR!” Next to the loud green haired boy, Malleus was looking up the stairs in the hall. “Hm, perhaps, we should ask him” Sniffling, Grim looked in the direction of Malleus' eyes. “Him? Him who?” And just after, steps could be heard on top of the stairs, indicating who was watching from afar.

And there he was. The students looked at the stop for the stairs that now revealed Rollo's steady figure stepping out of the shadows. “YOU HUMAN! DID YOU DO THIS?” Sebek's voice boomed once again in the halls, at which Rollo merely laughed. “Why? Well it's quite simple. I did so I can rid this world from this magic of course” “Riding the world of magic? THAT'S ABSURD!! You damn wicked villain!” “SHUT IT! — the first time Rollo's voice was raised, the halls trembled at the sound — ME?! I'M THE WICKED VILLAIN?? What about you? You mages tricking the world with your stupid little magic tricks?! You mean nothing but trouble! But I!- I will rid this world of your kind, making it a better place!” He laughed as he talked, the looks of the ones amongst the flowers now flaming with anger. “You're a coward! Come the fuck down and face us if you're so determined of getting rid of us!” “No time for that Deuce! — Riddle grabbed the first year's shoulder — we need to find a way to get rid of these flowers before their thorns find a way into the soil” Another laugh from Rollo could be heard. “Too late for that! Just as we're speaking, the whole city is getting covered in flowers, and soon enough the whole island! You've got nothing left to do!” The flowers slowly started getting closer to them, leaving them helpless, just then, Deuce had realized what was missing from Rollo's speech. “You- WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO Y/N?!” Rollo's calm and collected eyes met Deuce's angry ones, smiling at his expression he let out a silent laugh. “Hah! Ask her that yourself won't you?”

Step step step

One by one, the expression of the students went from anger to shock. You. It was you who was now next to Rollo standing straight and looking down on them from the stairs, the same flowers that were now surrounding them, was present in your hair. “Y-... Prefect...?” Deuce couldn't believe it, what were you doing, what-what are you doing with him? “Prefect?! What do you think you're doing?!” Sebek's voice boomed once again. “You're with the enemy you filthy traitor?!” Looking right back into Deuce's eyes seeing his despair, that didn't sit right with you, Deuce has never done anything wrong, but again, did he really care...?

“I truly am so sorry Deuce. You did nothing wrong, really. But I'm so tired you know?” “W-what is that even supposed to mean Y/N? Is it me? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did I'm sorry! But why would you do such a thing?” “Because I can't take it anymore. I'm done, Deuce. I've been treated like a damn dog every second I stayed at that school. No one, not a single person has ever thought of checking up on me, seeing if I'm ok, not even you did. I needed to be saved, Deuce, and Rollo, Rollo told me he'd save me. And he did! I feel so much better now that he did” Empty eyes were staring into scared blue ones. Deuce understood, in a way. And the fact that he hadn't even thought about checking on you earlier... maybe if he did none of this would've happened. “Grim. I really am sorry. This time I can't accompany you anymore. Seems like you'll have to become a great mage without me” Shaking next to Deuce's legs, was a crying Grim. “Hench-human...”

This time, the looks you gave to the ones left was boiling through them. “You all deserve this. You all are some egoistic monsters you know that?” Malleus' steeped forward trying to reason. “Child of man this is not the-” “QUIET! You don't get to talk Malleus. You're just like them after all, you've always been haven't you?” Rollo was enjoying this too much. The expressions those idiots Night Raven Collage students had on their faces was priceless. But as much as he'd love to stay more, you both had work to do. “Now now Y/N. I'm afraid we have to go. We have work to do, remember” He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you responded by putting one of yours in his. “Enjoy your last moments”

And with that, the floor around them was gone, leaving them to fall in complete darkness.

[cheshiresense]

Hello Anon, I hope you won't mind if I screenshot pieces of your ask, I read it but my muse vaulted over your first 3 questions and then took off on your 4.1, and now here we are, so I'm just going to chop these up and post them depending on what I can come up with.

This started out with TBTP!Shunsui never getting his memories and then kind of spiralled. He still doesn't get his memories but... well, you'll see. It really ran away from me lmao. No thoughts behind it, just vibes, I hammered this out in like fifteen minutes and it felt like a fever dream.

Starrk would definitely have complicated feelings about it. Like at the start when he agreed to go back, I think a part of him even then expected for the entire thing to end with his death, even if they manage to neutralize Aizen and defeat the Wandenreich, but whether or not he manages to survive it all, he definitely has no plans to get together with TBTP!Shunsui.

For one, obviously they're not the same person. I wouldn't say they're completely different, and I imagine TBTP!Shunsui would be a lot closer to Winter War!Shunsui, whom Starrk had met first. But TYBW!Shunsui is the one Starrk knew best, and TYBW!Shunsui suffered quite a few losses in a very short time. Like to Shinigami, even a hundred years probably isn't that much, especially to one who's already lived over a thousand years. But TYBW!Shunsui lost everyone he'd known for a thousand years in like the space of a week, he lost his mentor, he lost his closest friend, and on top of all that, he had the weight of a war fuelled by a grudge a thousand years in the making dumped on his shoulders, he had the duties of Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 dumped on him, he had the deaths of literal thousands of Shinigami dumped on him, and then in this AU he had to be the one to carry everyone else through another 7 years of waging an endless bloody war that after a certain point neither side was ever going to win, but he had no way of stopping it either.

That sort of thing would take its toll on anyone. TYBW!Shunsui was a man changed by loss and grief and more responsibilities than he'd ever wanted. I imagine he would've had very little time or cause to still remember how to be the person he was before the Quincy War when he still had it in him to relax and enjoy life.

But I also imagine that Starrk being there had helped. Starrk has always been a quick learner, and it's not like he'd really known anyone there save Shunsui. He stuck close to his Shinigami, watched and learnd the way Shunsui strategized for each assault and skirmish, contributed what he could where he could, pitched in by keeping the Fourth Divison alive and functioning, shouldered some of that weight by finally wielding all his strength and mowing down entire battlefields of Quincy on his own just so other Shinigami wouldn't have to and Shunsui would thereby have one less thing to worry about.

And in the precious stolen moments in-between, Shunsui had someone to go home with, someone who guarded him while he slept, someone to distract him from the war (from his failure to protect yet more Shinigami fallen in battle under his command), someone to sit beside who knew the same kind of loneliness and didn't recoil from it, who was content to hold him and share in his silence when he just needed a moment to breathe.

I imagine there wouldn't have been many things to be happy about, but I think they'd still manage to carve out some happiness between them. Starrk had known very little of things like human food and clothes and games and books. Shunsui had been delighted to introduce whatever he could to him. They learned about each other, about their similarities and differences, about their strengths and weakness and hopes and fears, secrets exchanged in the dead of night in the safety of a shared office, a shared bed, a shared home. And even in the midst of a war and so much death and destruction, they managed to build something beautiful and strong, something that would've been long-lasting too under any other circumstances.

Because then Shunsui dies, a year before the true end of the war, and Starrk had perhaps not seen it coming even though there was never any real guarantee on a battlefield, but it had also been an unspoken certainty of his, something he knew the way he knew bones were breakable and blood was red and murder was easy--the day Kyouraku Shunsui dies would be the day Coyote Starrk would also fall. With any luck, Shunsui would only die over his dead body, but fortune has never favoured Starrk, and he'd figured the other way was fine too. That way, Starrk wouldn't be yet another person in a long line of people to have left Shunsui behind and alone once again, and he'd thought it would make no real difference. If Shunsui dies, Starrk would surely be minutes behind, by his own hand or otherwise.

That doesn't happen. It doesn't happen because the rest of the Gotei had gotten over any qualms they might've had about working with an Arrancar or even Aizen's former Primera Espada years ago, and besides, Starrk had already broken all the known rules and beliefs several years back by becoming a whole soul and evolving into something no one had ever seen before. He couldn't really be considered a Hollow anymore, for all that there was no other name for him either. And with all that he'd done - following Shunsui into battles and meetings and everything in-between with the kind of steadfast devotion the tide held for the moon, burning the midnight oil right alongside all the other captains and lieutenants because even a hopeless war generated paperwork and headaches as much as it did low supplies and emergency triage and lists and lists of dead, powering through enemy forces to save even just one more Shinigami with the kind of firepower rivalled only by the likes of Kurosaki Ichigo and Aizen Sousuke, and carrying the Fourth on his back by sheer force of will and a truly terrifying mind that had soaked up every medical text he'd had time to read and every medical procedure he'd had time to learn or extrapolate or straight-up invent out of fatal necessity - Starrk had long become a pillar the Gotei 13 couldn't do without, a figure at their helm as familiar and reassuring as the long unwavering shadow Kyouraku had cast. And in the devastating wake of even their Captain-Commander's death, with only a handful of captains and their squads remaining, they couldn't afford another titanic loss on its heels.

And, as Hirako had been the one to point out, all glittering ruthless eyes borne from desperation and pragmatism--Kyouraku Shunsui had protected Soul Society with his very last breath; if they were to ever meet again, would Starrk even be able to look Shunsui in the eye if he wouldn't even stick around to try and defend the place and people Shunsui had loved enough to die for?

(A year later, Mimihagi would use the exact same argument to receive the answer he needed to send the second envoy the Soul King had chosen back in time to save the world.)

(Perhaps the lesson Starrk had learnt best at Shunsui's side had been the one of duty. Or perhaps it had been the one Shunsui hadn't even meant to teach but Starrk had learnt anyway, had held closest to his heart, the one of love.

They were about the same thing in the end, when it came to what Starrk would do for Shunsui.)

Hirako had even dragged Ichigo to stand before him, Isane too, each and every last person Starrk would even nominally call a comrade and was still alive--Hirako had put them all in front of him, and then he'd asked if Starrk could really go to his grave in peace.

The bastard had gotten his way in the end, and Starrk had never come as close to hitting someone unprovoked as he had right then. He'd been left the sole survivor once again, left to soldier on alone, and some days, he has no idea how he keeps going.

(Some days, Starrk had wondered, still wonders, if Shunsui had known his death was coming, or had known what would happen should his death come to pass, so he had made… arrangements accordingly. Most days, Starrk knows it's best not to know the answer because it would probably be the one thing he would never be able to forgive Shunsui for.)

So Starrk had hung on for another year and done his best for what was left of the Shinigami, for the dwindling pockets of civilians, for Kurosaki Ichigo. Anyone with eyes could tell though, that he'd just been waiting until the war was over one way or another, until the day he could lie down and not wake up again.

Of course, as it turned out, he wasn't even allowed that much, and a lifetime later, Starrk is still alive because death just won't take him, or he just won't die.

He has zero desire to even look at TBTP!Shunsui. The first time he has to anyway and sees two eyes instead of one, it's like a knife to the gut. They're lighter too, somehow, without the void of grief and exhaustion and quiet despair bruising their depths. His gaze still holds a weight to it, he's still loved and lost before, he's still lived a thousand years with all the joys and sorrows that entails, but he hasn't lost everything, hasn't lost those dearest to him, hasn't had to pick himself up and force himself to march on anyway towards a dead-end future, and for a moment, it's like Starrk is looking at a stranger.

He thinks, randomly, bizarrely, in those first few minutes of their second first meeting, that it's a good thing he always wears gloves when he goes out.

He thinks, madly, nonsensically, that if he were to touch this Shunsui now, it would stain him black with desolation, or red with blood that would never run dry.

He thinks, abruptly, hysterically, that he'd somehow forgotten the hole Shunsui had left behind with his death, as if the past year had numbed him so thoroughly that it had frozen even his grief in its tracks, except it all comes roaring back now, an empty pit that's always been waiting for him to remember it, threatening to drown him whole. Frankly, he would welcome it if he thought it would kill him once and for all.

It's frighteningly easy to pretend nothing is wrong. Perhaps it shouldn't be. He's never been one to emote outwardly, always been good at displaying nothing but impassivity without even trying, to the point where Shunsui had remarked more than once that it was difficult to read him (and then pouted and asked what Starrk was thinking - don't leave him out, it's hurtful - and he'd always want to know even when Starrk was clearly thinking of nothing important at all).

He greets this Shunsui politely, with the courtesy an Academy student should afford a captain, he makes smalltalk as necessary, he doesn't look at anyone in particular but also doesn't avoid anyone's gaze, and then he lets himself fall silent as Ichigo draws everyone's attention again with no deliberate effort whatsoever when he blows up at something his cousin says.

It's easy to fade into the background after that, to fade into himself, retreating into his own mind with the ease of long practice. Once upon a time, he could spend years like this, buried so deep in his own head that when he surfaced and became aware again, the sand dunes would've shifted and changed, and new mountains of bones would've already formed around him.

The few times eyes turn back to him, he nods in all the right places and responds at all the right times and pretends the world hasn't become white noise in his ears.

(He'd had these episodes a few times during the war, never when there was immediate work to be done or a fight to be fought, but in their downtime, it would sneak up on him. It had never lasted more than a couple hours at a time, but he'd scared the hell out of Shunsui the first time, had found himself at the Fourth when he'd woken, but then he'd explained, and Shunsui's expression had been unreadable but his eyes had looked pained. He'd shaken his head when Starrk had said he could leave him alone or just smack him out of it, either way he'd come back sooner or later, but Shunsui had refused, and every time it had happened after that, Starrk would wake with his head pillowed against Shunsui's shoulder or chest or thigh, Shunsui's arm wrapped around him or his bulk at his back and a blanket draped around them both, warm and comfortable and never alone.)

(He is alone again now, and he doesn't understand why it's so difficult to relearn something he had known for far longer than he hadn't.)

He's here to check Fujiwara's Hohou - Shunsui's cousin, Shunsui never mentioned her, she must've died long ago in the future - so he does that when he's cued and works her through the problem and suggests a few exercises, and that's that. He practically sleepwalks through the rest of this little gathering, barely manages to feel vaguely relieved when it looks like they can all finally part ways, and hazily wonders if he can get away with booting Ichigo back to his own room for the night. He's pretty sure he's going to end up scaring the kid if he falls even further into his own mind.

Then Shiba Kaien does him a favour out of the blue, nagging Ichigo until the kid snaps and irritably agrees to spend the night at his family's compound. Distantly, Starrk is aware of being invited as well, but that's easy enough to refuse, citing an exam in the morning - or maybe he says assignment due, he's not sure - and the Clan Head says next time then, and- and-

He blinks and it's time to go. Nothing seems amiss so he inclines his head at the captains and lieutenant, bids Ichigo and Fujiwara farewell, and then takes his leave in a flash of Shunpou.

Starrk has seconds to feel nebulously pleased with himself, another second to remind himself to avoid the Eighth like the plague from here on out, and then even that's gone as he locks himself in his room, and the rest of the night is lost. He is more than happy to lose it.

He'd had exactly zero presence of mind to catch the way Kyouraku Shunsui had been staring - if discreetly - at him the entire time, from under his hat or out of the corner of his eye, and by the end of the entire encounter, the man had even shaken his kimono over his hands to hide the way they'd slowly curled into white-knuckled fists.

Shunsui doesn't know how no one else had felt it, bleeding into the air like a severed artery--a bottomless chasm of loneliness and grief that had felt like it should've been screaming with the agony of it, except there'd only been the deafening silence of barren wastelands, an emptiness reflected in Starrk’s perfectly blank eyes and perfectly sculpted non-expression, and Shunsui doesn't understand why he alone had evidently just taken a metaphorical dive straight into the man's very soul.

(Starrk would've, if he'd noticed. After all, a lifetime ago, Kyoukotsu had loved bringing his wolves back to her soulscape to play with, and Katen had often visited his soulscape in turn for tea and conversation. His and Shunsui's souls had long learned to recognize each other, mingling in a way that had transcended all possible boundaries, and in the face of that, what did a little thing like time and space matter?)

When Starrk had left, Shunsui had almost followed, had wanted to with an instinctual sort of urgency he couldn't even explain to himself, let alone anyone else. Several times, he'd almost reached out while the others were talking, to provide comfort perhaps, or to take some of the pain even, and it had only been the equally intuitive certainty that doing so would break something in Starrk that had ultimately stopped him each time.

"Kyouraku, is something wrong?" Ukitake asks once the others are all gone, because of course his best friend had noticed something off with Shunsui, even if not with Starrk.

Shunsui reaches up and tugs on the brim of his hat and doesn't know how to explain that wrong could not even begin to cover whatever the hell had just happened.

His insides are still shuddering like they've been ripped out very slowly. He still wants to run all the way to the Academy this instant. And he feels-

He feels inexplicably like he's lost something beloved and doesn't know if he'll ever get it back.

[animeomegas]

blowing some boys' back out please x3 your choice of 'em

that's 2 imprecise help neji gaara, sasuke, and minato? :3 bonus if the alpha is big in size. I'll be 🍷 anon if not already taken ! mwah

(Hey, welcome 🍷 anon! Let's see~)

N-sfw under cut

Let's set the scene!

It was a rough night last night, enthusiastic, hot, and very heavy.

And some soreness is totally normal after nights like this, especially when you consider your... greater than average size *cough*

But when your omega gets up the next morning, it's clear that the soreness is more than normal.

He's waddling around the house, holding himself gingerly, still kind of dazed from last night.

He probably has some emerging bruises in sensitive places, a few pulled muscles, too.

Maybe you were a little too enthusiastic 😅

But how does he react?

Neji

He is deeply unimpressed by you.

He's sending you dirty looks, blaming you for his current condition and conveniently forgetting how much he was begging for it to be harder last night.

"How am I supposed to go shopping like this? 😠"

You better be pampering him to say sorry.

He's going to settle down on the couch and you'll be doing all the chores and massaging the sore parts of his body.

Bring him snacks and butter him up with lots of lovey dovey apologies and he'll forgive you.

And then ask for that kind of sex again the next week smh.

Gaara

Concerned boy is concerned :(

Rough sex is extremely out of character for him, and so something must have triggered it. Perhaps extremely heightened emotions?

I'm not sure, but he's regretting it so much :(

He knew rough sex was a bad idea. He kind of feels bad about the whole thing.

For a shinobi, his pain tolerance is pretty low, but he still has to get to work because he has a village to run...

He keeps his composure remarkably well at work, but he goes home early and he expects lots of cuddles and kisses and gentle affection.

It's one of the only sex things that he won't overshare with his siblings because he's genuinely embarrassed by injuries that occurred from his perceived lack of control. He feels like he should know better.

Give him lots of love, okay?

Sasuke

He is SOOOOO embarrassed.

And he's pissed at you. But he won't say that because he's too busy pretending that nothing is wrong.

This lasts for all of 5 minutes before he realises that pretending he's fine means leaving the house like this, and he'd rather DIE.

So, the man who would try to train or take a mission while literally delirious with illness, actually takes a day off and hides in bed.

A bed that he kicks you out of by the way.

(but you can probably sneak back in with some well placed nuzzles)

What is he even so embarrassed about?

People knowing he has sex? Kinda, yes.

How fucking ridiculous he looks waddling around? Absolutely.

Not being strong enough to physically take his alpha without injury? Yes...

DO NOT tease him!

Just apologise once and then make him breakfast and don't bring it up ever again 😅

Minato

He's a bit sheepish about the situation, because he remembers begging for it to be harder, and he should have known better.

Oh well! Now he knows better, and well, it was pretty hot.

He gets a bit turned on thinking about it, which probably hurts, so that train of thought dies quickly.

He will probably tease you about being so big and rough lol

To be honest though, he's totally fine, and he'll say "you don't have to do that" everytime you try to apologise or make it up to him.

He would appreciate you running him a bath and making him some food though, just to show him that you love him.

Let's just hope that he's not teaching that day 🙏🏻 Because he is not as subtle as he thinks.

Or working as Hokage... Because his guard definitely know how he spent yesterday evening 😏

[olderthannetfic]

The question of deleting fics is an interesting one. Ive definitely felt the impulse before, i have LOTS of ficlets and unfinished multi chapter fics that i absolutely despise bc they dont meet my current standards/employ tropes + characterizations that would now be pretty dated or even offensive -- but my parents were the type to tell me to save everything i made, because art was the only thing i was ever passionate about, so i could never muster the will power too.

Nowadays ive decided to lean into the fact that i have so many abandoned accounts -- even if a few have dissapeared for good by now (rip Quotev - that site was So formative in my writing life lmao), i like to imagine that there might be a handful of copies hanging out in a few scattered hard drives around the world, by anyone who did happen to enjoy them. Whether its materially true or not, the notion sits very well with me -- and serves as another reminder of how much of a wonderful thing internet anonymity can be. The chance that my stories, however silly, could be datamined off what will be considered old devices in the future, and will only be connected to some silly username like 'nyanslenderman' or 'tordkin'-- i think its almost heartwarming. Makes those stories stop feeling so cringey in hindsight, just as like.. another teeny tiny part of human history, which ill be a part of whether i want to be or not.

While i try not to /demand/ that people never delete fics or art, i wish people would consider that angle a little more... there's nothing wrong with something you wrote while inexperienced, or in a bad time of your life, being a part of your mark on the world -- especially if its hidden by a username instead of your real name. Its always a treat to see preserved children's schoolwork or passion projects, or an artist's earliest works + practice pieces, from decades to centuries ago -- so why would stuff from our generations be recieved any differently by our own descendants? Why not let it stay, for the chance of being remembered that way?

--

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 09

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

If that punching bag could speak, it would beg for mercy. Sweat heated my skin, and with every punch against the rubbery surface, an overstrained grunt sliced through the air.

"I think that's enough for today, Noah," someone said from a distance, but my focus was locked on the back-and-forth motion of my clenched fists, ignoring how they throbbed painfully with each strike.

This was the only way to unload everything consuming me without smashing my head into some random passerby while walking down the street.

The past few days couldn’t have been more hellish. I couldn’t write, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and all I was left with was being forced to see that woman at every rehearsal and act like she didn’t exist.

Impossible when she was everywhere.

"I just said it seems like enough for today, Noah!" The same voice broke the short space between me and the punching bag as it pulled me away from it. "What the hell is wrong with you today? You seem like you're on another planet!"

The trainer stood in front of me, arms crossed, while I slid down the wall until I sat on the floor. My chest heaved uncontrollably as I stared at his calves through the strands of sweat-soaked hair hanging over my face.

Training at night was good; I liked the empty gym, especially when I used it as an escape.

"My head's full of crap, that's all," I spat, removing the wraps around my fists.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Only if you can hit me hard enough to induce permanent amnesia," I tried to joke, but my voice came out more morbid than anything else.

"Actually... I might be able to do that!" The tall, bald man with bulging veins on his temples shrugged. "But forgetting, even temporarily, won't make your crap disappear."

"And who said I want anything resolved? The sooner everything goes to hell, the better."

I definitely didn’t mean to be so harsh, but it came out automatically, and he should ignore it. My good moods were so rare that, to him, this probably felt like just another normal day.

"It might be a relief for a while, but the body reacts differently than your mind. Even if your mind didn’t remember anything, you'd live with the feeling that something’s missing every time it relives memories, habits, interests, and tastes," he added. "Like when you touch an object and your body reacts instantly, or when you visit a place and your insides speak for themselves."

What utter nonsense, for God’s sake.

"Got it," I said, giving him a thumbs-up with a straight smile, as if that load of crap actually made sense.

"Fine, fine, call me crazy, Mr. Know-It-All!" He rolled his eyes, turning his back. My gaze swept the room, watching as he picked up gloves and bags scattered on the floor, placing them on the shelves.

Leaving the gym, I regretted not grabbing a jacket earlier as the wind hit me on the street. Walking to the parking lot, I unlocked the car with a click, and before getting in, I heard a brief cluster of voices in the distance. Turning around, I saw a group of four girls bundled up in band hoodies, phones in hand.

I couldn’t explain why, but a discomfort seemed to envelop me as they approached, realizing I wasn’t about to flee.

“Noah, would you mind taking a picture with us?” asked the tallest girl, her short hair tucked behind her ears.

Well, maybe there was no harm in that.

“Of course! Let’s do it!” I forced a brief smile as they gathered around me.

A guy passing through the parking lot helped take the photo, and I held the smile until he finished.

“Thank you so much, Noah. I hope you’re doing okay!” said another girl with colorful streaks in her hair, stepping aside.

“I am, thanks for asking.”

I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t that I hated my fans or anything. In fact, I’d always been able to separate those who genuinely appreciated the band’s work respectfully from those who felt entitled to my personal life, as if it didn’t belong to me or as if I wasn’t an adult capable of handling my own decisions.

But I couldn’t deny that most of the time, I wished to be a voice without a face. I loved writing music, I loved singing, and I never doubted it was for me since the first time I did it. I just wasn’t so sure that back then, I’d also wanted everything that came with it.

The way I felt uneasy in most recent social interactions made it clear how I felt.

“We just wanted to let you know that no matter what happened, we’re on your side. Always!” she emphasized, and my brows furrowed as my expression darkened.

“What are you talking about?”

“It was on a news channel—speculations that the Bad Omens vocalist’s overdose was her ex-boyfriend’s fault.” The information came with a phone placed in my hand. “They dug up videos of you two arguing at the festival, and now they’re blaming you.”

“They’re piecing together moments from shows where things seemed tense and comparing how she’s been since your breakup,” added a redheaded girl, taking the phone from my hand. “But we’re rallying in your defense. We know she was always the problem, and we won’t let her fans drag your name like that.”

Every misfortune seemed to fall short of what I deserved.

“Look, I’m sure you all have better things to do than worry about this,” I assured them, stepping back closer to the car. “I don’t need lawyers for the internet court. Take care.”

With a final fake smile, my eyes narrowed as I turned my back on them and got in the car. Before starting the engine, I still caught one last complaint.

“It’s incredible how he defends that girl even in the middle of this circus. I don’t understand what the hell she has!” she fumed, stomping her feet and crossing her arms.

That was an excellent question.

I was far too focused on the traffic, humming Sicko Mode by Travis Scott, tapping my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. I couldn’t help swaying in a little dance as if nothing was wrong. The sunlight was strong, so I pulled my sunglasses from my hair to better see the road.

For a fleeting moment of distraction, I glanced in the rearview mirror, and a chilling sensation washed over me for no reason. Behind my car, a dark-windowed SUV waited at the same red light. There was no reason for concern—I knew cars like that were common around here.

But the unease grew, gnawing at me, as I decided to test my suspicion when the light turned green. Casually, I turned the first corner to shake it off, but it didn’t take long for the driver of the SUV to appear on the narrow street, blatantly trailing me.

I pressed the gas pedal moderately, and the bastard matched my pace. He didn’t seem intent on cutting me off, maintaining a safe distance—just enough to let me know he was there, aiming to unsettle me.

I tried to keep control, ignoring my sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the mirror. Accelerating down the second avenue, I ran a red light, weaving through the crossing traffic to shake the pursuer, my pulse racing in rhythm with the car’s speed.

No time to think. I veered sharply into the opposite lane, narrowly avoiding a collision with another vehicle that slammed on its brakes. The blaring horn couldn’t even dampen the sinister adrenaline coursing through my veins, heating my blood alongside my labored breathing.

I yanked the wheel, swerving into the first open alley I spotted, slowing just enough to notice the SUV caught in the chaos I’d caused at the intersection, freezing the traffic behind it.

But what the hell was that?

After another meeting in the office, everyone was ready to leave. I was really determined to keep my promise when I said she had died to me yesterday.

Today, I only thought about her three thousand times.

When I passed through the door, I saw that she was right behind me, and it was incredible how every time things were tense between us, she somehow managed to look six times more stunning, as if just to provoke me.

The funniest part was that she didn’t have to try very hard to do it.

“Are you okay?” My steps instinctively halted when I heard her voice. “You seemed agitated when you got to the meeting, and…”

If I were speaking to her, I would’ve surely said that a big part of my irritation came from people spreading lies about us online again and some lunatic racing me on the road just a few minutes earlier.

“I really wanted to talk to you about something,” she insisted, gently touching my back, which I quickly pulled away from. Her fingers carried electricity, and just the slightest contact with my skin was enough to turn my brain into useless mush.

But I wasn’t about to break the silence game.

“Noah?” Gerard poked his head out of the room, interrupting the moment. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

Relieved, I exhaled deeply, keeping my back turned to her as I walked into the room. I hated the smell of cigars and strong alcohol that filled the place, and I couldn’t stop glaring disgustedly at the leather furniture, worried the scent would stick to me.

“Just seeing the number of attendees in today’s meeting told me your conversation didn’t go well, did it?”

“Did you call me here to talk about work, or are you looking to catch up on gossip? I’m sure any website could keep you more updated than I could,” I retorted as I slouched in the chair, legs spread, letting my head fall to the side.

Fortunately, I wasn’t very expressive.

“I called you because I care about you two, and of course, this news shook me—not just because it’s a sad decision coming from someone young like her…” Gerard paused dramatically, and I raised a single eyebrow. “But because I’m worried about you in all of this.”

Fascinating.

“It happened exactly as I imagined. There’s no way she could’ve handled another wave of hate after all these months being labeled as problematic. Noah, I knew she’d eventually find a way to drag you into it, to share the blame!”

“I don’t follow the news, so I’m out of the loop,” I lied shamelessly.

“So you haven’t noticed she hasn’t defended you or denied anything being said about you? Noah…” He took a deep breath, clasping his hands with a thick gold ring on his ring finger over the messy desk. “I’ve been your age, and I know what love does to people, especially when it’s one-sided.”

Nothing annoyed me more than people circling endlessly around a topic instead of just saying it outright. We weren’t at a lecture or a sermon, and outside this place, dragging things out made no sense.

It was impossible not to stare at him with more disinterest as I rested my hand on my chin.

“I know you probably think this is all nonsense, but I can’t let you forget what happened the last time an issue between you two crossed personal boundaries and hurt the band,” he stressed, drawing a line on the desk. “I took the hit, and you… well, no need to comment—just search your name online.”

“Every day revisiting the same topic. Don’t you have a new, important agenda to make my visit worthwhile?”

“This will remain the topic until you stop behaving like you’re ready to throw it all away for that disturbed girl again!” He finally bared his claws. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t, even for a second, think it was betrayal for her to throw you to the wolves and save her own skin?”

I’d reached my limit for the day, clearing my throat into my fist before standing and stretching my back. Slowly, I leaned over the desk, bringing my face close to his while locking eyes and moistening my lips with my tongue.

“Gerard, dear…” I whispered so softly it almost sounded like a song. “You can take my band, my money, my rights, my songs, even the damn socks I sell. But my personal life? That’s still none of your damn business!”

“It becomes my business when she manipulates every thought in your head and keeps you from doing your job!”

“As you’ve noticed, we’re no longer together. She made her choice yesterday, and now our relationship is purely professional. I couldn’t care less about what she does from now on, as long as it means she sings properly and does her job!” I declared. “Now, please stop bothering me with things that aren’t my responsibility or interest. I’ll keep ensuring my part is done.”

A strangely triumphant smile formed on his lips, and I watched as Gerard nodded slowly.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, giving two light pats to my cheek. “I knew I could count on you!”

Breathing outside that room again felt like being reborn, if such a thing was possible. The entire way out of the office, I tried to push his words out of my head, though they carried a shred of truth.

I couldn’t forget that when everything fell on her shoulders, I had the same reaction, if not worse, staying silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. But it never did, and now it made sense for her to use a winning hand against me.

She knew I couldn’t do anything on my own, and that gave her free rein to do whatever she wanted. But it was undeniable how bitter it tasted to feel like a stepping stone for her unstable ego.

Outside, I paused at the entrance as rain washed over the dry, empty streets of the city. It wasn’t heavy, but the few drops that hit my face were cold and powerful enough to conjure a mirage before my eyes.

Ahead on the road, there was nothing but trees past the shoulder. In the middle of the asphalt, two people—a couple—smiled as they ran, chasing each other like there was no fear of tomorrow. They danced even without music, and it seemed like the first time the boy had ever felt truly happy about something. He looked free.

Shaking my head to push away the revisited memory, I headed toward the studio, which wasn’t far. Outside, amid the laughter and the sound of guitar riffs, there she was, her voice like a spell capable of putting me in an automatic trance every time I heard it.

Passing through the gate slowly, I walked toward the back of the vast yard. She and my friends were gathered, Jolly and she doing a duet—more precisely, a cover of Decode. Even as they seemed to be having fun, she didn’t go off-key once.

The raspiness of her voice, the beginnings of delirium watching her sit there smiling between verses on a bench with the microphone in hand—it took me back to the bar’s back room, watching her sing in absolute silence. There was no technique, no production, no effect—nothing could compete with the absurd talent I desperately wished the world would know.

The same place where I first saw her and swore I’d never seen anything like it, the same place where I fell hopelessly in love with the insane woman who had a desperation for life, for proving how free she was, enough to infect me with the same poison.

I hated her.

I hated her so much.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ;