#but not really a drabble. it's something

[bloody--prince]

Trouble in paradise - Yandere! Regina Rejection x reader - Drabble - 💔

Reggie knows its mean, maybe even downright cruel, but those tears dripping down your pretty face are just delicious.

Really, he didn't think you'd get this upset over that trash hating you. Poor thing just can't take a hint, over and over you have to learn that not every relationship ends in sunshine and rainbows.

No matter, he'll always be around the corner to bask in the despair.

"My My, you royally screwed that one up, huh? I don't think you could do worse even if you tried, darling."

The scathing glare you give Reggie only makes him condescendingly coo, you're just too cute.

"What's that look for? It's not my fault you have the grace of a bull in a china shop, you broke your own little heart with that one."

He feighns disinterest as you babble out an explanation, examining his nails. Gods, you really were invested this time, weren't you? How foolish. Reggie almost feels bad for the way you seem so broken. Teasing you is just too much fun to resist though.

"You know, the common theme to me here is *you*, sugar. Your mistakes, your fuckups, you're the common denominator when things go wrong." He pouts in an exaggerated manner, batting his lashes at you. "No wonder you end up all alone when the day is finished."

Sweet, sweet misery. The sound of your little sniffles, the way your body trembles as you try to hold back the sobs desperately trying to escape.. oh, he could just eat you up. Devour you, that's more like it.

Reggie almost chuckles at how your breath hitches when he reaches out to delicately wipe your tears, "Can I tell you what the bright side is, puddin'? Me. No matter what, how horrible you are, I'll always be by your side. I'm here now, aren't I?"

He can see the conflict swirling in your eyes, the anger towards him and the burning need for comfort.

"C'mon, you're not going to stick your nose up when I'm trying to be nice, are you? Just let me hold you for a bit, it's not like anyone else will."

(Heart dividers made by the talented @/saradika-graphics)

[fbfh]

did you know that Dean wakes up one morning and realizes he has a fucking bombshell of a wife/husband/spouse, a cozy (slightly rural) suburban house, and not one but three fucking daughters???? Did you know that he woke up one morning to toddler giggles and little kid bickering and baby babbling????? and your girls come charging in hushing their little giggles so they don't wake up mommy and daddy and so OBVIOUSLY he has to pretend to be asleep so he doesn't foil their plan. he focuses all his energy on keeping his face and body relaxed, keeping his breathing even. they're whispering and babbling and Dean peeks an eye open and looks at the love of his life and these three angels with their daddy's attitude and their mama's heart. they have your eyes and his smile. they're... the best parts of both of you, and there's something entirely new and beautiful in each of them too.

Bobby Dean is your oldest, and her 4th birthday is just around the corner. She's 3 and 3/4 right now, and won't let anyone forget it.

Your second is Jodi John, or JJ informally. She's fought her way half way through the terrible twos and is already getting a head start on the whole 3 going on 13 thing.

Mary Cass, or Cassie, is your youngest. She's just over a year old, and wants to do everything her big sisters do.

And Dean is looking at your little girls, and at you. He sees the way the morning sunlight dapples in through the window and illuminates their tangled hair and disney princess nightgowns. Your face is all puffy from sleep, and you still smell like the apple pie you made yesterday.

it's real, he realizes. that pipe dream that apple pie life.

you gave that to him. you did that. you turned his deepest, most unspoken desires into a reality like it was nothing. and every ounce of joy and love and peace he feels every moment of every day, he owes it all to you. You try to tell him on occasion when he gets all sentimental on you, he deserves it. he deserves every good thing he feels, and he's so great with the girls, he's a natural dad and you couldn't possibly dream of a better husband to do it with.

Because at his heart, Dean is a family man. He's your family man.

[cynda-queer]

The unfortunate truth is I am a slave to positive reinforcement, so when I post things, I'm sitting there like a cat scratching at a closed door like "likes?" "reblogs?" "commint?"

[corroding-time]

STRESS RELIEF

Jason Todd x gn reader. based on this post. slight nsfw.

-

Jason Todd was never one to stay behind too long. And if he’s being honest, he never is planning to. With all the things he had on his plate, fighting crime, trying to cope with everything that weighed upon him, and rebuilding relationships he lost, why would he try for an established relationship?

Not like you knew about any of that, but it was obvious from the start, that he was looking for a smash and dash.

So you really, really, tried not to grow any more attracted than you already were. Really, you tried. You told yourself you were only going to be disappointed, heartbroken and hurt at the end of it all. But it was so hard. Every few days, without fail, he’d walk into your place of work, which was some shady building with too loud music, cheap liquor, stuffed into the back of some alley, and set his sights on you.

And no matter how you willed yourself to refuse whatever his request was tonight, you practically melted the second a greeting was muttered to you. Your cheeks warming up, head spinning as he talked to you. And it was never a long chat, just enough before he asked you the question, you mutter out a somewhat coherent answer, he grabbed your hand and dragged you to some rat hole motel. And there was where you’d spend your night with him, mercilessly pounded and used. And he always left before you got up.

There was one day, he was still there. That was your first night with him. Your breath hitched as you realized he was still sleeping. It was late, and he lay on his stomach, face towards you, looking tense even in sleep. Eyes moving rapidly underneath, he must be having a nightmare.

Your eyes traced over his body, drinking in as much as you could. His twitching muscles, the messy hair, the scars littering his body like an artist’s brush strokes. Where’d you get them? You want to ask but don’t in fear of overstepping your boundaries. Absentmindedly reaching out a hand, you barely touched a scar. His eyes shot open and he jumped up, grabbing your wrist. You got frightened, and scrambled to get back as far as you could, but his grip prevented you. Your eyes meeting, both of you silent. His were murderous, dark, matching his heavy breathing and tight grip.

He muttered something about having to go as he dropped your hand. As he got off the bed, he said something so quiet you barely heard. “Didn't mean to be rough. ‘M kinda stressed.”

So that’s what that was. That’s what you were. As he came and went, the thought ran through your mind every time. That’s all you ever would be to him. Stress relief.

Jason Todd was never one to stay long, and he likely never would.

[txmxkis]

you're the best one

pairing. kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader

genre. fluff

wc. 1k+

summary. all you're trying to do is make kuroo's birthday cake, but things can never just be straightforward.

warnings. nothing, really, just tooth-rotting fluff. kuroo is a menace as usual. very selfship coded as always >.<

a/n. i actually managed to do it i hope you're proud of me hopefully it's good idk. happy birthday to the #1 husband <3

there is flour everywhere.

you shouldn’t have expected anything different to come of this, really.

every time kuroo helps you bake something, he feels some sort of uncontrollable urge to make a mess, and since today is his birthday, it seems as if he’s leaning even more into that “i can do whatever i want, and you can’t get upset with me for it” attitude.

you always start out with good intentions and a plan… actually, you’re usually fairly clean and organized in the kitchen.

that is, until he comes blowing through like a tall tornado, leaving you with debris scattered everywhere. he just makes it so easy to lose all sense of control and let go of any reservations you may have had.

this cake has taken twice as long to make with him around, but you can’t necessarily complain. about the mess, yes you could, but you do like spending time with him regardless. since it’s his day, you can even let the mess go.

after a number of detours incited by the birthday boy, you finally got the cake squared away in the oven and got started on the frosting.

he was practically panting watching you mix it up, waiting ever so impatiently for the moment he could finally steal a taste.

of course it had to be when your back was turned to check the oven. obviously with his finger instead of a spoon.

“uhh… why is this frosting… salty?”

“are you messing with me right now.”

“not this time, taste it.”

he holds out a finger full of frosting and you give him a skeptical look, licking it off after a moment of hesitation.

“ugh! what the hell? hold on, i can fix it.”

you spend the next ten minutes adding other ingredients, trying to balance them out and mellow the bitterness, cursing every time you stop to test it while he watches you intently.

“i don’t get it; i followed the recipe exactly… i’m so confused.”

he just stands there and stares at you for another moment, face morphing into a sly grin. you’re oblivious, so focused on figuring out where you could have possibly gone wrong, giving him ample opportunity to swipe his finger through the bowl again and smear a dollop of frosting directly on your nose.

“tetsurou! wh—”

“looked like you could use a break.”

shocked, you just stand there dumbly while he laughs at you, face smudged. finally, you snap out of it and shoot him a menacing glare—half playing around, half ready to enact revenge.

the urge for vengeance wins, and the thought of contributing to the kitchen’s disarray does not even matter to you anymore.

“ohhhh, you are so gonna get it.”

gathering two fingerfuls of frosting, you stalk towards him slowly, waiting for the right moment to pounce and make a mess of his face.

“really? seems like you’d have to catch me first.”

he feigns being lost in thought for a split second and then whoosh! he springs into action, using those stupidly long legs to his advantage.

you’re yelling at him to come back, or trying to yell through your barely contained laughter.

you start to chase after him, but, well, this is exactly the wrong moment to be wearing socks on hardwood floors.

suddenly you slip, and the floor is much closer to you than it was just a second ago. you’re fine, about to scramble back up and continue the hunt, but an idea strikes you.

surely he heard the crash of you hitting the floor from wherever he ran off to; surely he cares too much to not return to the scene and investigate, make sure you’re okay.

in fact, you don’t even have time to continue with your plotting before you hear him calling out to ask what that noise was, his voice getting louder as he reappears from around the corner.

you grin deviously. his weakness.

you decide to stay sitting on the floor where you fell, keeping your head down and your hair hanging over your eyes, waiting for him to get closer before enacting your plan.

“did you fall? are you alright?”

it takes everything in you not to giggle and give yourself away.

he finally gets to you and kneels down on the floor, putting a hand on your back and trying to get a glimpse of your face.

this is it.

you quickly reach over and push him down until he’s lying on the ground, moving to sit yourself directly on his middle.

“h-hey!”

“shouldn’t have let your guard down.”

“well, that was a terribly dirty trick.”

“just using the methods available to me.”

“doesn’t the fact that it’s my birthday mean that you should let me off the hook?”

you don’t speak immediately in response; just take the frosting that you’ve been so careful to preserve on your fingers and slowly smear it across his face in victory.

“nope.”

he puts a hand dramatically over his chest and sighs loudly.

“you’ve shown me your true colors.”

“horrifying aren’t they.”

you feel a hand on the back of your neck, and suddenly he’s pulling you down to kiss you, the taste of salt from the frosting that’s smeared across your faces intertwining with the taste of him.

“nope.”

heat rises to your face, the way he’s staring at you only aggravating it.

the timer for the oven promptly cuts through your moment, and you start to get up off him, only to be pulled back in for another kiss, this one slower and more languid than the last. pulling back, kuroo smirks at your slightly dazed expression.

“yum.”

you smack him on the chest, smiling shyly while rolling your eyes at his antics.

“shut up. let me up so that i can take care of the cake.”

“fineeee.”

the both of you get up off the floor, and you remove the cake from the oven to cool.

you give up on the frosting after trying it one last time, groaning in aggravation.

“we better at least make it look pretty, cause no one’s gonna want to eat it.”

he walks up and hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“eh, it’s fine. makin’ it was the best part anyway.”

reblogs & interactions are appreciated! thank you for reading! <3 — txmxkis

[popponn]

Seeing the esteemed Duke of Meropide eyes a pair of decorations curiously is an amusing experience, turns out. Even when your relationship with him is pretty much an unsaid ‘almost lover’ situation.

“So,” leaning against his working desk, you try not to smile too wide, “do you like them?”

Wriothesley continues to stare and blink at the black and white dog miniatures—intended to be placed on flat surfaces, however, your creativity is your limit, or so the craftsmen of Liyue said. Straightening his sitting posture, he then leans towards the objects that sit on his desk. “…this feels like a series,” he finally says after a long while, taking one of the two dogs. He once again takes in the merry dog figurine in his hand. Slightly bigger than his thumb, carrying a ball with a tail that is depicted to be in the middle of a swishing motion.

“It is. There are actually another eight dogs,” and also another twenty cats that are a story or, perhaps, a gift for another time, “but I don’t know if you will like it… or do you even have the space to keep all ten, so I just buy you two this time.”

“Hey, hey, since when do I seem like the sort of person who is unappreciative of something people give me?” Wriothesley put down the dog, only to take another one up. In between that, a smile and a glance are addressed to you humorously, yet as softly as always. “And also…”

You realize he purposefully trails off. “And also?”

With how entertained he is at the handcrafted woods, you think he will praise the craftsmanship. Or perhaps, it is time to recall that musing of his about wanting to keep a pet and how these two will be a perfect replacement. Or maybe, he will make another unpredictable joke one would never thought would come out from his mouth.

Yet, instead of all of that, Wriothesley merely reaches out a hand to take yours while his other hand and focus remain on your present. His tone is far from anything—as if he is simply stating a fact. Despite all that, the squeeze he gives as he intertwines his fingers with yours says enough.

“This is from you,” he states, finally shifting his attention to fully land on you. “There is no way I would dislike it.”

[aftxnrxbxtics]

I loveeeed your most recent post about William collaring reader😍😍😍 could you maybe do something similar where reader calls William daddy for the first time??

Hell yeah anon! i did a little drabble for you, hope you like it!! 💗

“i told you i’m busy” william groans as you hug him from the back, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your chin on his shoulder.

He’s not lying, he’s really been busy since the early morning, checking and arranging the piles of paperwork that were thrown all over his desk. Something that henry didn’t even bother on helping him with.

And you, well, you’ve just been watching him as he works on it, getting bored and also hungry as the hours passed. But you can’t go out, you know very well that he doesn’t let you roam around the restaurant on your own, so you try to convince him to take a break.

“Please, i wanna eat some pizza and then play on the arcade” you plead again with a high-pitched voice.

“We‘ll go once i’m done with this” he answers, not really caring about it, already way too used to your impatience and whims.

“Please daddy“.

When that last word comes out of your mouth, william freezes for a second, it’s the first time you call him something like that. You sound so innocent, and probably you are cause you have no idea just how quickly his bulge grew bigger.

“Alright” he grins, putting down the paper sheets that he has in his hands, not being able to keep telling you no after you just hit his soft spot. “Let’s go”.

Happy to finally get a break, you kiss his hairy jaw and then get off him, completely unaware of the effects that your words caused. You just think about finally eating some hot cheesy pizza and then playing a few rounds of fruity maze, trying to beat each other’s scores.

But william is definitely not thinking the same, his mind is somewhere else, and he can’t wait until you both get home to make you repeat “daddy” over and over again…

[buzzcutlip]

hiii can i request “i just wanna take care of you” with lip x fem reader? maybe he’s caught a christmas cold 🥺 he’s so pathetic i love him so bad!!!!!

Maggie, here it is. Short and Shamelessly dirty <3

Lip Gallagher x gn!Reader Rated E 607 words

“You’re the worst patient, Philip Gallagher!” “I didn’t ask you to go get me,” Lip shrugs, as much as he can anyway, with several bruised ribs and one broken leg propped up on a stool.

His answer makes the blood in you boil. “Oh. So next time you want me to drive Liam to the ER, or pick one of your siblings from jail, I’m not gonna bother,” you seethe. You don’t approve of Lip’s lifestyle. Or that of his family. But somehow, after sharing a few classes in college, Lip’s stuck to you. “I’m not your charity project,” Lip jerks his chin away from you defiantly, staring into the wall. The words cut through you like the sharpest knife. You’re speechless for a moment, staring at him being so fucking stubborn in his family’s living room. There’s no one who could look after him at the moment anyway. Even though you want to kill him, you don’t have the heart to leave him sitting here, on the ugly sofa, rotting away until one of his siblings comes back.

The silence stretches between you, thick and loaded. Lip doesn’t look at you, and you don’t trust yourself to speak. It’s not like he doesn’t have a point, but his stubbornness, his damn pride, makes you want to scream.

You cross your arms, leaning against the edge of the Gallagher's ancient coffee table. “You think this is fun for me? Hanging out in your roach motel, trying to keep you alive while you act like a petulant child?” Lip’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t bite back. Progress, maybe.

“I’m not doing this because I get off on it, Lip. I’m here because for some unfathomable reason, I actually give a shit. But you keep pushing me like—” You stop yourself, words catching in your throat.

Like I’m disposable. Like I’m just another person who’s gonna leave.

Lip finally turns to you, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I didn’t ask for you to give a shit,” he says harshly from where he’s sitting uncomfortably. “No, you didn’t,” you snap, stepping closer. “But that’s the thing, Lip. Sometimes people care about you even when you don’t think you deserve it. And you don’t get to decide that for them.”

He blinks, and for a split second, you think you see something crack in that steely facade—something raw and vulnerable underneath. But then it’s gone, replaced by that familiar wall of sarcasm and self-preservation.

“Fine. Do whatever you want,” he mutters, slouching deeper into the couch. “Not like I can stop you.” “Damn right, you can’t.” You grab a pillow off the couch and toss it at him, though it lands harmlessly on his lap, wanting nothing more than to shut him up forever.

Taking two orange containers with painkillers from your bag, you put them on the coffee table, then set the bag down. Lip’s eyes are burning holes into you, narrowing as you take off your sweater, then unzip your pants. “What the fuck are you doing?” “Whatever the fuck I want.”

Lip shuffles on the sofa into a more upright position, hissing in pain as the movement jostles his broken leg. You ride him on that gross, dirty sofa, one naked knee digging into the cushions, the other one still clothed. You’re angry but surprisingly mindful of Lip’s injuries, careful as you bounce up and down his cock. He doesn’t say a word but he’s staring up at you, wide-eyed, as if witnessing an apparition.

It feels so good, and you almost don’t care when Fiona storms in with Ian in her heels, deep in a heated argument.

[dehydrated-turtle]

Happy Birthday

//warnings// +16, mdni, transmasc!reader

//a/n// AHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO LOGAN AND HUGH JACKMAN WOOO i find it very amusing that his birthday is 3 days before mine

Birthday sex with Logan Howlett is spectacular. I mean, he's always spectacular but theres something about it being a day about him and he hates it so he focuses solely on you and your needs. As soon as he wakes up that morning, hes kissing on your shoulder to wake you up and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you mumble a 'happy birthday' back. It quickly turns into some heated kisses and groping what ever skin you both could get your hands on, his on your thighs, making your boxers soaked. His hips grind against your ass, hard on growing against your ass. You offer to suck him off as a gift but he insists that eating you out is more pleasurable for him so his kisses make a tickling path down your body as he shifts toward the lower half of your body and slides off your boxers. The fresh air against your wet folds feels cold before Logan kisses the inside of your thigh so gently, teasing you but not for long. He takes your clit into his mouth, sparing not even a second as he works his tongue against the sensitive bud, eliciting a string of profanity and moans from your throat. two of his digits curling into you, hitting all the right places, repeatedly before a familiar sort of heat built up in your lower abdomen and you were screaming Logan's name. A clear stream of squirt came pouring out of your cunt, landing all over Logan's chest hair, "Now this is the best present you could ever give me, bub."

[spontaneousful]

"Is this really the world we fought so hard for?"

It was a question that always seemed to be on Blondie's mind lately. It was the only thing she could think to say as she stood in Ashlynn Ella's castle, watching the snow fall atop her fresh grave.

Apple, her friend her once-upon-a-time lover her, Apple White, ruler of Ever After, glanced over at her. "Whatever after do you mean?"

Blondie stared out the window and tried to bite her tongue. This conversation was pointless, nothing she could say would change what was. But that budding investigative journalist inside her, the one who wanted to change the world, the one she thought was stamped out long ago, couldn't leave it alone.

"Did we really fight for a future where our friends drop like flies? And condemn those who didn't agree to death along with them?"

She laughed. "Don't be silly. I haven't sentenced anyone to death."

Blondie turned around to face her. "What about Raven?"

"What about her?" Apple's gaze was piercing.

Blondie stared her down, but Apple didn't falter. Instead, she returned the stare with intensity. Blondie sighed and looked away. She couldn't stand up to Apple, she never had been able to. But the flame of anger in her still burned, and instead, she shifted the conversation.

"How many of our friends have to die for you to admit you were wrong? How many have there already been? Briar, Ashlynn, Ginger, Humphrey, Duchess, Meeshell, we're in our thirties, Apple. And yet, I'm attending a funeral every other week."

For a moment, there was no response. Then, she heard the clacking of Apple walking away. "The Ella estate is sorted out. I believe we're done here."

Blondie wanted to stop her. She wanted to scream at her. To curse the unfairness of it all. How hypocritical of her, when she had played no small part in the war of destiny versus choice.

Why? Why had she ever agreed with the side of destiny? Why had she thought this was better? Why had her own happy ever after been worth setting up her friends for slaughter? Why? Why? Why?

[fishyvamp]

I was browsing Pinterest when I stumbled across this screenshot:

Warning mind the tags and before you click see more there is a really really bad joke in this drabble.

All I could think of was Ghostface and reader teasing Trapper. All three of them done with their trials for the day lounging in the workshop on the Macmillan estate. Trapper is repairing the traps that were damaged during his trials. He can here the two of you in the back cuddling, on the beat up old couch you two had scavenged from the fog, exchanging jokes back and forth. Some cheesy others just dark. Doesn't help that you both are competing for worst dirty joke. "What did the prince say to Cinderella?" Danny mused face resting on your chest as he listened to your gentle breathing. "Want to see if it fits?" His voice light as he fights back a giggle.

You roll your eyes, "okay I'll give you that's bad." You hum thinking for a moment, "a vampire walks into a bar asks the bartender for a boiling cup of water. The bartender looks at him confused. 'thought vampires only drank blood?' the vampire smiles pulling out a tampon, 'they do I just wanted tea.'" you hear a trap snap shut trapper cursing loudly in Scottish Gaelic. A blush painting the skin along his shoulders as he turned around too look you dead in the eye. "No more," he said curtly.

You Ghostface turned to each other for as if silently plotting against the now flustered Evan. "What it's a natural thing?" Danny mused rising to his feet fingers grazing the larger man's arm. In sync you move to the other side match Danny's movement stroke for stroke. "I thought you could handle the thought of blood." You tease, his body tensing with each movement.

You can hear a strain in his voice, "I can, but that blood is indecent. You don't talk about it." The two of you now sitting on the work bench arms crossed as you stay in sync with movements. "Why?" You hear Danny chuckle. Trapper can't even look at the two of you as you talk. "It just is." His tone sharp, arms folded against his chest as he leans back trying to distance himself. He shouldn't have to be defending himself you two should just know.

A smirk on your face leaning forward resting your face in the palm of your hands. "With everything we've done, with everything we've said to each other, a tampon soaked in blood as a joke is too far?"

The Trapper sighs looking at you both with softer eyes, "it's not something that one should discuss. Diamond." Danny and you both pause realizing that Evan is politely drawing the line. The safe word spoken loud and clear. The two of you sighing almost in sync, choosing to sit in his lap kissing him on both his cheeks. You can feel the large man relaxing hands resting on a thigh each. "Reckon it's time for me to stop and give you both some needed attention instead?" His grip possessive moving to your inner thighs. The tense fading as you both nod in agreement. "Good," He purrs.

[vinelark]

i’m giving the chapter 6 doc a beat to marinate before i jump back into wip wednesdays, so in the meanwhile here’s a snippet from my extremely self-indulgent side project:

“Tim!”

The shadows dissipate all at once, Tim yanking his magic back like he’s nine and just laid his palm flat on the stove. Light returns to the chamber, and he sees Bruce in the doorway—Bruce, not Batman—as a silhouette first, features coming into focus a moment later. His gaze rakes over Tim and then lands on the form hunched in the corner.

“Conner,” Bruce says in a blank, bemused sort of way, crouching down. The person lifts their head and Tim gets his first look at his attacker. And—

Oh, Tim thinks. His instincts definitely guessed wrong.

Superboy—because that’s Superboy there on the stone floor, leather jacket and curls and of course, the brightness makes so much sense now—sucks in a breath, one hand braced on the floor, face gray. “What,” he wheezes, raising a trembling finger to jab in Tim’s direction, “is that?”

[lovely-hikari-cosplay]

🩷💕We are so back💕🩷

•

Redrew my Legacy of Winx OC’s now that I’ve been studying the Winx art book more! It started as me just drawing Gladiolus (not pictured) since I’ve always been bothered by how difficult it was for me to draw Helia’s features, then it spiraled out of control kinda.

I ended up drawing my Legacy kiddos and so decided to splice them into a group photo like I did way back in 2018

I’m seriously considering making a comic or mini-comics since I’ve decided to make robust character sheets and bios, but we’ll see

Individual characters sheets under here, but I also plan on posting characters sheets and bios maybe every Friday or Saturday until I run out of them 🙂‍↕️

[ysaefinn]

lol yeah mommyguru brainrot so real I was too drunk last night and sobbing at every little thing and when I crawled into bed I was thinking about how he would take care of me 💔

Oh my god anon 😭😭 this is such a wine-drunk moment and we can both agree that he is a visceral fucking need for sad intoxicated reader....

HE IS SO GOOD AT TAKING CARE OF A DRUNK YOU HOLLLYYYY MOLLLLLLLYYYYYYYY suguru really just dies for the chance to slide in and wrap u up in blankets, surround you with the plushies he can't stop himself from buying u and suffocating you with his boobs and sweet lingering kisses :3333ccccc you obviously never lack but when you're emotional and not thinking straight it just...hurts his heart...and his womb, brain empty, only baby matters, he really goes on autopilot and immediately picks you up to cradle you :((

[vultursvolans]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 𝓻𝔂𝓾𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓶

there was an ache in my heart when i awoke in a strange, beautiful world that wasn’t my own. even as months turned to years, i still missed the familiar skies, the voice of loved ones and the home i had left behind. i wrote letters that went nowhere and whispered silent prayers that reached no one. it was like i was plucked from my own reality and placed in a world where i didn’t quite belong.

yet, as much as i longed for home, i was determined to learn in this new life. sumeru became my sanctuary and the akademiya, my solace. i learned their languages, customs, and secrets while sharing stories of the stars, landmarks, and beauty of my own world. the scholars listened, fascinated by the similarities and differences, but none more than al-haitham—a student assigned to guide me through this foreign land. he was a quiet presence. thoughtful and curious. he did not pity me.

and over time, he went from guide to peer to something more. over time, i wasn’t just seeking knowledge but also him. but what was the point? what was the point of falling for him if one day, i could just disappear—vanish back to my world, leaving him and teyvat behind? this could slip away at any moment. this might be as fleeting as a dream.

despite all reason, i still found myself loving him deeply. in a world that wasn’t my own, he had become my home.

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: very slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐒: 22.10.22 | playlist | genshinverse ryu | home for christmas (fic) | moodboards

𝐀𝐑𝐓: silk & moonlight | modern au | akademiya days | season of love | minecraft |

[eskawrites]

It’s 1979, and every day, Barb wears a dark purple bracelet around her wrist. It’s pretty, although a bit more basic than what Nancy would normally wear—just a simple band of woven fabric, and a little star charm dangling from the middle.

“Where’d you get it?” Nancy asks her one day out of the blue. She does that sometimes—asks people things without any lead up. Her mom tells her she’s inquisitive. Her dad just says she asks too many questions.

Barb never seems to mind. Over the last few weeks of getting to know each other, there’s never been a question that Barb isn’t happy to answer.

This one seems to make her sad, though. She holds her arm up and twists her wrist a little, watching the charm catch the light.

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” she says. Nancy is old enough to recognize the twinge of jealousy for what it is, but she isn’t quite old enough to understand why it’s there.

“With who?” she asks anyway.

This time Barb does hesitate. She looks around the middle school cafeteria, but they’re the only ones sitting at this end of the table, and the buzz of students is loud enough no one can really hear them even if they decide to pay them any mind. Not that they ever would. Nancy and Barb tend to fly under the radar.

“You know Robin Buckley?” Barb says, lowering her voice.

Nancy shrugs. She’s heard the name. It’s a small school, after all.

“She has the other one,” says Barb. “My parents took us to Indianapolis a few summers back. A lady at the mall was making them. I got purple for her favorite color. She has pink for mine.”

“And the star?” Nancy asks. She reaches out without really thinking about it, holding the little charm in her fingertips.

Barb smiles. “We used to stay out in the park for hours after dark, watching the stars. She knows all the constellations, and a bunch of old stories about them. She knows a ton of stuff like that. She’s pretty cool.”

“You guys don’t hang out anymore,” Nancy feels the need to point out. But Barb just shrugs.

“Yeah. We had all different classes last year, and I guess we just drifted apart. I say hi when I see her in the halls sometimes, but we just…don’t really talk anymore.”

“Oh.” Nancy lets the charm go. Barb lowers her arm and picks up her fork again. “We could get friendship bracelets.”

Barb’s eyes light up. “I saw some charms and stuff at Melvald’s the other day. We could make some!”

“Let’s do it,” Nancy decides. “When you spend the night Friday, we’ll ask Mom to take us to Melvald’s.”

“Deal.”

-

It’s 1983, and Nancy has a pink bracelet—with a pen charm, not a star—that she keeps in a shoebox of all of Barb’s things.

She only pulls it out and looks at it when she knows it’s a bad idea; when she’s already one bad thought away from breaking, and she holes herself up in her room so she can push herself recklessly over the edge.

She takes the bracelet in her hands and runs her fingers over the soft, time-worn threads. Pink for Barb’s favorite color. Barb had a soft, sky blue for hers. She thinks about that bracelet, dangling around Barb’s wrist while she drove them to Steve’s house, tied to her still, soaked in blood and rot as she decays in the Upside Down.

Nancy tucks the bracelet into her pocket. If Barb’s association with Nancy led her to her death, then Nancy’s association with Barb can mark her until the day she dies.

-

It’s 1985, and when a new girl walks up with Steve, Dustin, and Erica, looking terrified and in shock, the first thing Nancy sees is a pink bracelet around her wrist.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Nancy asks.

“I’m Robin, I work with Steve.”

But that’s not the answer. She’s not Robin who works with Steve. She’s Robin who carries stories of the constellations in her head and memories of Barb on her wrist. Robin, with a pink bracelet and a star charm that, quite frankly, looks ridiculous among the leather bands and thick rings she wears.

The group sits down once they’re finally all together. They exchange stories and make a plan, and all the while, Robin sits off to the side, on her own.

Nancy thinks about Barb sitting on her own by Steve’s pool, her gaze turned down and her shoulders stiff around her ears. She watches Robin curl up and hug her knees to her chest, and that damn pink bracelet is all she can see.

-

It’s 1986, and Robin complains every step of the way as Nancy wrangles her into a blouse and skirt.

“You should lose the rings,” Nancy tells her. “They’re unprofessional.”

“Gee, thanks,” Robin mutters.

“You can borrow some of mine if you still want to wear them.”

“No, it’s fine.” She pulls the rings off one by one, dropping them onto Nancy’s desk with small, satisfying clunks. She shakes out her hands when she’s done, and Nancy watches that star charm bounce back and forth along its soft pink band.

Robin notices her looking. She covers the bracelet with her hand and scowls.

“The bracelet stays. I’m not taking it off.”

“That—that’s fine.” Nancy thinks she should say something else—she’s not sure how they’ve gone this far without talking about it—but she can’t stop staring at it.

Robin’s shoulders slump. Her grip on the bracelet shifts and she runs her fingers over the charm, her expression turning sad.

“Sorry,” she says softly. “I just—I got this because of—”

“Barb.”

Robin meets her eyes.

“She told me,” Nancy says. “She—she still wore yours.”

And for the first time, it occurs to her that Barb was wearing a purple bracelet that night, too. That there has always been a part of Robin Buckley rotting in the Upside Down along with her, along with Nancy.

Maybe they were all doomed, intertwined, forsaken from the start.

“A purple bracelet,” Nancy says. “And a star charm. Because you liked watching the stars together. She said you knew all the constellations. She said—”

Robin’s arms are around her the second her voice breaks. She hugs her close, and Nancy swears she can feel that star charm pressing through her shirt.

-

It’s 1989, and Robin is moving box after box from her house with Steve into Nancy’s apartment.

It takes all day to get her clothes in the closet and her desk into the second bedroom they’ll use as an office and her frankly excessive collection of tapes onto the bookshelf in the living room. By the time dinner rolls around, they’ve both decided everything else is a job for tomorrow, or the day after, or next week.

But before they go to bed that night, Robin digs through a box of photo albums and picture frames to pull out a small, black shadowbox. She holds it carefully in her hands and walks over to where Nancy stands by the bookshelf. Nancy takes it from her with a soft, sad smile and reaches up to place it on the shelf. She feels Robin’s hand on her waist, and she steps back to tuck herself into her side.

They both look up at two pink bracelets, a pen charm and a star charm, hanging safely side by side.