#but sometimes i happen to read something that casually mentions how recent something is

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i read a paper today for uni that was written by i don't remember exactly who but one of the authors at least was a founder of google and they introduced google in the paper as this unfamiliar concept and they kept adding descriptors of what 'google' was to remind readers and it was surreal to read because it was only written in like, 1998 or something like that

i was born in 2000 and spent the first 10 years of my life barely aware of the world and i've had several moments over the past few years where i've gone oh wow. xyz really ISN'T that old. i've just never known anything different. i always struggled with this weird feeling in high school that the world was already well established and there was nothing new going on and i was born too late to make any new or valuable contributions anywhere. it turns out there's potential and growth everywhere and i just never had that reflected in my education. i never knew how recent some of the things i take for granted are. they never told us about new discoveries being made all the time. there's so much unknown and left to explore actually. i wish i'd known it earlier, but it always fills me with hope to learn it now.

sometimes the way things are just sucks. but sometimes a key piece of information was only discovered 20 years ago so there's actually still a lot of research and change going on. it's just not necessarily what you're reading in the news daily.

[mad-hunts]

as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.

since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.

but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.

he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞

jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.

julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.

he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞

Eigengrau.

A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.

The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.

"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"

The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?

He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.

… ohh, god…

He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.

A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.

Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.

"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."

He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.

Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.

"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."

The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.

“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”

[eroselless]

───────────────────somebody else // 4

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [2.8k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings: angst, mentions of sex

note: hi friends! I'm so sorry i've been a little awol recently. like i said before, I had been prepping for a big trip. I am studying abroad for a few months and I am slowly starting to settle in. this chapter is an insight on Lando's point of view, exploring his feelings and such. This does mean that this series will be coming to a close soon, one or two chapters at most will be added after this. Thank you guys so much again for reading and for being patient with me! Happy reading <3

Lando hadn’t been looking for anything serious. He wasn’t the type, or at least that’s what he told himself. He was young, successful, and people often told him how lucky he was to live the life he had. Fast cars, travel, a wide circle of friends—what more could he ask for? He wasn’t sure what to make of her at first. Their initial exchanges were easy, filled with harmless flirting and the occasional back and forth. Magui was gorgeous—there was no denying that—and they got along well enough.

Weeks went by with casual texting, late-night conversations, and occasional meet-ups whenever they could. They had met at a party a few months ago, and things had escalated quickly from casual texting to late-night conversations—the kind where they laughed a little too loudly, even over the phone. He met her when he could between races, and sometimes they kissed, letting the evening unravel into something more. The first time they kissed was in the darkness of a nightclub, lights flashing around them, the music loud enough that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts.

He kissed her because it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His lips found hers, and everything else fell away. The next thing he remembered was stumbling into her apartment, their lips barely separating as they fumbled with the door, their clothes falling off as they made their way toward her bed. It felt right. At that moment.

It was fun, exhilarating even. They knew each other on a physical level that went beyond any of his past experiences. In the dim haze of his newfound adulthood, this was what Lando thought he needed. And people thought they looked good together, so why not? It could work.

But something still didn’t feel complete. He began to wonder if he was missing something, something more.

Then he met you.

Lando had noticed you before he had even spoken to you directly. There was something different in the air around you as you moved through the hospitality suite. He remembered watching you stand near the garage, focused, observing everything but never really interacting unless needed. It intrigued him. You weren’t a fan, he could tell—not in the way some others were. Unlike most, you didn’t treat the drivers like celebrities; you treated them like people. It was refreshing. He watched you from a distance at first, trying to figure you out. You were polite but distant, professional.

You weren’t the kind of person to seek attention, and that intrigued him. You were there, working quietly, your head down, but always aware of your surroundings. He liked that.

After that first day, he found himself wandering back into the hospitality suite, dodging journalists and photographers as he snuck away to find you. He always made up an excuse to see you, not fully aware of the brewing feelings in the back of his mind.

You were friends, exchanging late-night calls, staying behind sometimes at the hospitality suite to keep you company as you arranged things back into their places. He’d ask you questions about your life outside of racing, curious about the parts of you that didn’t revolve around the sport. Over time, you opened up more to him. You indulged in his mannerisms, leaning into him when the opportunity arose. He gradually picked up on your habits, like the way you concealed your smile behind your hands or how you fiddled with the long ties of your work apron. Seeing you began to make his heart race.

The more you interacted, the more fascinated he became. Without even realizing it, you became someone he relied on. When he was feeling down after a tough race or just needed a distraction from the world, he found himself texting you, sending you stupid memes or random thoughts. And you always replied, often with that teasing wit he’d grown to love. It made him feel like you were more than just a part of his world—you were becoming his world.

The moments that made his heart race became more frequent—a photo of your smile, a teasing emoji after a flirty remark, or that time you sent him a voice note, laughing at something he had said.

That laugh... it stuck in his mind for days. He found himself cringing at the thought, comparing it to music. But truly, was a melody, a song he never wanted to stop hearing.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He hadn’t even realized how touchy he was with you until someone—probably Carlos—pointed it out. “Mate, you’re always finding an excuse to be near her,” he had teased, nudging Lando with his elbow.

Lando shrugged it off at first, but the truth was, Carlos wasn’t wrong. Whenever you were near, his hand naturally found the small of your back, his arm draping over your shoulder when you both walked together, or his fingers brushing against yours when you handed him something. The touches were light, casual—but they weren’t insignificant. You leaned into his touch, beginning to feel at home. It felt so natural, like you’d always been in his space.

Lando felt the shift long before he was willing to admit it. It was subtle. The way you began to pull away during team events, your texts becoming shorter and less frequent. Your touches were more hesitant, less willing to stay in his arms when they enveloped you. More quiet when others were around, and even more so when it was just the two of you. He racked his brain trying to figure out what went wrong, but every time he thought about asking, he stopped himself. Could he be imagining it?

He tried distracting himself, telling himself it was nothing. There was always Magui, after all. She’d been popping in and out of his life more times than he could count, and every time he thought he was done, she found a way back in. Sometimes, when he felt lonely or frustrated after another awkward interaction with you, he’d slip into old habits. He’d wake up in Magui’s bed, her arm draped over his chest, and he’d tell himself it didn’t mean anything. And it didn’t. Not really.

But it didn’t fill the gap. It didn’t make him stop thinking about you. No matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they kept coming back. He missed you, he felt lonely without you in the busy world you both found yourselves in. You were the one he wanted, even if he couldn’t say it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The night at the club was a turning point. You were there, a few drinks in, your inhibitions lowered, and for the first time in a while, you weren’t pulling away from him. He had to stop himself from kissing you when he first pulled you into his arms. Your perfume was one he almost hadn’t recognized, knowing you only wore it a few times when going out. He’d smelled it on you on the rare occasions when you weren’t working hospitality at McLaren dinners. It was so… you.

He spent most of the night watching you, unable to keep his eyes off your frame as you swayed drunkenly with Alex and Lily. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t tear his gaze away from the way you were so you in that moment. Every time you moved in time with the music, he could feel himself falling deeper under the spell you unknowingly had him under.

He had to stop himself from kissing you right then and there when he pressed into you from behind, taking your hips into his hands. Your flowery scent mixed with the tang of alcohol and sweat was intoxicating, and it took everything in him not to lean down and meld his lips to yours.

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as the bass of the music thumped in his chest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t dare ruin the moment with words, but he knew you could feel the way his body responded to yours. The tension was electric, each second of your closeness like a silent admission that neither of you could avoid anymore.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t tell him to stop. Your body felt heavenly against his, fitting right where it needed to. His hands were everywhere and nowhere all at once. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Lando’s thoughts were a mess. Every time your hips brushed against him, his breath caught, and his brain spun in circles, trying to make sense of what this was. Did you feel the same pull? The same desire that clawed at him every time you were near? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

The moment you stepped off the dance floor, Lando took your hand, leading you toward the darkened hallway. Neither of you said a word as you slipped into the bathroom, the music muffled by the walls around you. He pinned you against the cool surface of the sink, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation he hadn’t realized he was carrying. You kissed him back, just as hungry, and for a moment, he let himself forget the confusion, the hesitation, everything except the way your body felt pressed against his.

He wanted to take you right there and then, not wanting to wait any longer. Your soft moans sent shivers down his spine, and he wanted more—needed more. His hands slid down to the hem of your dress, ready to lose himself in you entirely.

And just as they did, there was a sharp, sudden knock on the door that had the two of you jumping. He cursed the Dutch driver as he pulled the two of you out of your lustful haze, grounding both of you back in reality. There was a sudden soberness instilled in your bodies as you left the restroom, only spurring him to drink more as the night dragged on.

The rest of the night was a blur. He remembered drinking more, trying to drown the frustration gnawing at him. But he knew one thing for certain: you had come home with him. He remembered your face hovering over him as he lay in bed, the soft light casting a glow around your hair like a halo.

You slipped under the covers beside him, and for a brief moment, everything felt perfect.

When he wakes up alone, he can still smell your perfume. It lingers on the sheets, the only proof that you were there the night before. He lies there, staring at the ceiling, his bed still warm from where you had been beside him, and he tries to convince himself that it doesn’t matter. That you’ll be okay, that things will eventually go back to normal.  

He sees his phone charging on the opposite bedside table and reaches across the bed to check it. It's almost dead, having just barely been plugged in. He reaches for it, expecting—hoping—for a message from you, but instead, it’s from her.  

already missing you, when are you coming over again? last night was fun ;)

It's a message he’s been avoiding, a message he’s been ignoring all night long. Lando swears under his breath, tossing his phone to the side. He hasn’t seen Magui in weeks, but she has a way of showing up at the worst possible times, like a ghost from his past that refuses to be laid to rest. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him. What if you saw the message? What if that’s why you left?  

But deep down, he knows that isn’t it. There’s something else going on, something more that you haven’t talked about, something you’re both avoiding. And he hates it.  

Sitting up in bed, he runs a hand through his messy curls, his mind racing. He can’t keep doing this—dancing around his feelings, pretending everything is fine when it clearly isn’t. He needs to talk to you, to figure out what’s going on, but the thought of confronting it scares him more than he’s willing to admit.  

Because what if you don’t feel the same way? What if this is all in his head, and you’re just trying to let him down gently? He can’t bear the thought of losing you completely, even if it means staying in this strange limbo where things are left unsaid.  

But one thing is clear—Magui isn’t what he wants anymore. Not really. She’s a distraction, a way to fill the void that has grown between him and you. But it’s not enough. You’re what he wants, the one who makes his heart race and his thoughts spin in ways he hasn’t felt before.  

Lando glances at his phone again, the urge to text you overwhelming. He types out a message, his fingers hesitating over the send button.  

Hey, can we talk?

Simple. Direct. But as his thumb hovers over the screen, doubt creeps in. What if you don’t reply? What if this is the end? 

Before he can hit send, he tosses his phone to the side once again, the message box now empty.  

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When he pulls you into his driver’s room, it’s not a decision—it’s instinct. Carlos’s words still ring in his ears, but it’s the image of someone else's hands on you, someone other than him, that makes his blood roar in his veins. His thoughts, his feelings, everything he’s been holding back solidifies in an instant. He crosses the distance between you, heart thrumming wildly in his chest. Without a word, his hands find your face, and his lips meet yours, slow and deep, pouring everything he’s never had the courage to say. You don’t pull away; you don’t ask questions. Maybe, somehow, you always knew.

It wasn’t like the kiss in the club—this one was softer, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. It’s tender, woven with unspoken confessions, full of the vulnerability he’s buried for too long. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and you match his intensity, your body melting into his, as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment forever. 

Neither of you speak—words would only shatter the fragile understanding that lingers between you. Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?

But as quietly as you slipped into his room, you slip out and away. He’s left sitting in the dim light, staring at the bed, his heart still racing but now hollow. You left without a word, but this time the emptiness feels sharper. You had clung to each other as though trying to hold back the inevitable, a storm of passion that left him breathless. Yet, as he had laid on your chest, listening to your heartbeat fade into silence, he can’t shake the feeling that this was an ending. That whatever it was you had—whatever it could have been—was slipping through his fingers like sand.

Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When the next race weekend arrives, Lando paces restlessly through the hospitality suite. His stomach is in knots, his mind spinning at a pace faster than he’s ever driven. He goes over the words he’s rehearsed a thousand times in his head, thinking about how he should’ve spoken sooner, how he should’ve laid everything bare instead of relying on touches and stolen moments to convey what he’s felt for so long. Fifteen minutes pass. You’re still not there.

In the time he’s known you, he’s learned that you’re never late. Even when you were nervous or uncertain, you would always show up. Maybe it’s just traffic, he tells himself, trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach. Maybe you’ll arrive later. But you would’ve told him, right? You always told him.

Then the doors open, and his heart stumbles in his chest, but it’s not you.

“Oh, she quit,” a colleague tells him when he asks for you. “Her contract was ending anyways, something about heading back to university.”

The words hit him like a cold wave, their meaning sinking in with agonizing slowness. You’re gone. Just like that. No warning, no farewell, no final glance. As he stands there, staring at the space where you should be, at the bar, at the tables you once hovered over, the reality crashes down on him with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

And in that moment, the depth of his loss becomes a stark, aching reality.

tags: @horseymchorse3 @bluebluesol @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @lipstickstateofmind @rafeyybabyy

a/n: hi everyone, thank you much if you've gotten to this point! I really loved being to explore Lando's point of you and seeing more of his side of the story. let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!

[krowlovesinazuma]

I posted this by accident... ;-;

Check out this prologue and this post for context!

Scenario: Talking to them about modern wars

Characters: Kujou Sara, Sangonomiya Kokomi

With your appearance and needing to protect you, combined with all the things she already has to do as part of the Tenryou Commission, you shouldn't expect her to start this conversation. She can't help but be curious sometimes, but she won't tell.

The conversation would probably start with you making an off hand comment about wars in your world, which would lead her to ask, just for the sake of it. After all, information was never bad to have as a militarist... At least, that's what she thought.

She couldn't help but wish that it was a bad joke at first, but she listened intently, and asked many questions. Some were for precautions in her line of work, others were slightly more for curiosity's sake. It's easy to tell which is which from the tone of her voice, much to her dismay.

She wanted to hear you talk about battle strategies, but sadly, the battles themselves were never the focus of general history much, to her dismay. You were able to tell her about larger strategies, however, which she did wish to hear more about.

What scared her the most were the motivations. She understood that wars were not a fight of good against evil, but even she was appalled when she heard the political issues that led to these conflicts.

Well, either that, or the sheer mass of numbers related to everything. Millions of deaths across the world, all just listed as data and passed off as history... It was terrifying for her to think about such large numbers.

And then the weaponry... She was actually interested in hearing about this quite decently, but after hearing the first few details, mainly gigantic bombs or mechanized guns, she was done.

As soon as she's done with this break of hers she's going to thoroughly rethink aggressive politics and the dangers of large-scale conflicts. Partly for her country, but she couldn't shake this fear for her men, herself, or even for you...

"Please excuse me for having interrupted you, but I do not wish to know more. It's... Unsettling to think about, especially how you just mention it so casually. I know we may have a dark past as Inazuma as well, but I assure you, we'll maintain this peace, for all our sake."

Kokomi loves reading about old warfare and similar tales in her downtime, so it was a simple matter of time before she asked about it when the two of you were just relaxing in down time.

She couldn't lie, she was half expecting you to not know, as many in Inazuma didn't know many specifics about old wars, especially since they were so many centuries ago. When you told her that the ones you spoke about were only about a century old though, she was curious.

The large scale of everything did take her off guard however. While she read of warfares, none she knew involved such large countries, especially not any that were that recent. She realized how serious of a subject this was, and yet you were so casual about it...

She asked why you treated it as common knowledge, and to her surprise, it was apparently supposed to be? It saddened her to hear that it was all just data for most people, but the thought of hearing more details kept her hooked.

The first thing that truly unsettled her were the origins of the war. She understood that it was the reason why it was spread as common knowledge, but the fact that it happened either way was more than troubling, especially as a leader herself.

She couldn't even imagine the aftermath that you described. She had gotten used to taking losses and learning to overcome them in her time as a leader, but never had she faced something so devastating as the things you describe.

And then of course, the weaponry. While she was mostly intrigued by the use of firearms and how advanced they were from swords and shields, but when the theme switched to nukes and bombardments, she was very much intimidated.

She tried to act the same after that talk, but she couldn't help but feel worried for both you and her island if tension ever came to rise. Sadly for you, that means more effort into her work for her.

"Huh? Of course I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me so much. In fact, I'm thankful for you telling me all of this. I know that we don't have numbers as large in our humble island, but it's better to be safe than sorry... What do I mean? Well, treating my leadership with more care, for starters."

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, talk of mental health (past suicide attempt mentioned), more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

Things Aren’t Always Black and White

Noah was right. Sometimes it was okay to tell a lie. She would never admit that to him, though. He would hold it against her, for sure. A lie by omission was probably her worst sin. Every time she told him she loved him it was under the guise of them being best friends. Always left out the part where she was completely head over heels, so obvious it smacked you in the face, in love with him. She lied to him just the other night when she told him that it was all fine, just fine. And as she stared down at him lounging on the couch so casually, she was prepared to lie to him again.

“I wasn’t making a point, Noah. We were slammed at work.”

“Then why have you been avoiding being alone with me?”

Exasperated she tipped her head down, eyes squeezed shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose. That part she could admit. The rest? Maybe not so much.

“Because you want to talk about things like it meant something, Noah. And it didn’t. I’m not stupid. I don’t need you to coddle me and spew the same shit every other man does. I’m a big girl, Noah. At least respect me enough to just fucking be honest.”

“Be honest? Okay. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day we fucking met. But I haven’t acted on it. Outside of recent events. Why? Because I do respect you. And you would know that if you didn’t keep avoiding me!”

“Well that’s fucking news to me. What, did you want me to move in here because you wanted a fuck buddy on call?!”

She watched as his jaw flexed, hands fisting in his lap. Watched the way his eyes narrowed, how his nostrils flared just slightly. She was equal parts scared and thrilled. She had never seen this side of him before. Noah had always been careful to keep his anger hidden from her.

“Do you remember what happened before I asked you to move in here? The phone call I got from the fucking hospital? Come on, Quinn. You’re a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

White hot rage flooded her body, heating her from the inside out. How dare he bring that up? Slowly she stepped forward, leaning down until she was an inch from his face.

“You don’t get to throw my one moment of weakness in my face. Fuck you,” she hissed, fighting the urge to draw back and punch him.

“Quinn. You can’t accuse me of something, then get mad when I tell you how wrong you are. Yes, I want to fuck you. I also actually give a shit about you. And I don’t want to lose you! All of these things can be true at the same time!”

Tears pricked at her eyes, begging to be let free. Her chest ached something fierce and she wanted to throw up. How did they get here? A door clicking shut upstairs followed by footsteps to the top of the stairs drew her attention.

“Everything good? Lots of yelling happening.” Folio. Of course it was him. Lightest sleeper in the damn house.

“Yeah,” Noah answered almost immediately. “Just a misunderstanding.”

Not another word. Just the sound of footsteps retreating followed by the click of a door being shut again. Quinn stood over Noah, chest heaving, heart racing.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Noah.” Her voice cracked on his name. “I hate fighting with you. Why can’t you just leave it alone? Just leave it alone, please.”

Noah’s eyes softened, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek in his palm. He let his thumb absentmindedly swipe across her bottom lip, tugging it down slightly.

“Because even though you’re my best friend in this entire world, and it’s wrong, I want nothing more than to hear you moan my name again.”

Quinn froze. What did he just say? Surely she didn’t hear him right. There was no way. Slowly she straightened her spine, standing up fully again. That was the last thing she expected him to say.

“But I also don’t want to lose you just because I’m an idiot that couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @mrscevans @supersquirrel1996

[candycandy00]

Little Miss Nobody Part 3 - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic

You’re a weak, lowly sorcerer who barely qualifies as an assistant, but you get the opportunity to work on a mission that includes THE Gojo Satoru. Unbeknownst to you, he finds you incredibly attractive despite privately looking down on you as a nobody. On the last night of the mission, he invites you to his hotel room. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Any feedback or comments whatsoever is greatly appreciated! Thank you to @doumadono for the name Mystigram!

Smut. 18+. Gojo x short/thick/curvy fem Reader. Rough sex, oral sex (69), implied bondage/use of toys, mention of Gojo being bisexual. Just pretend the Shibuya Incident never happened!

You allowed yourself to grieve for one week. You took time off from work and spent those days crying, yelling at no one about how much of an asshole Gojo was, and eating ice cream from the carton to numb your pain. Once the week was over, you cleaned up, went back to work, and returned to your normal daily life. 

It still hurt to think about him, and despite your best efforts not to, you did still have the occasional intrusive thought. Sometimes you wondered if he regretted anything he said to you, or if he simply regretted ever meeting you. Sometimes you wondered what kind of mission he might be on and who was in his hotel room with him. Sometimes you dreamed about him, dreamed of his hands gripping your hips, his cock rough and powerful between your thighs. 

In a weak moment you decided to check his page on Mystigram. A few particularly tech savvy sorcerers had made a social media site just for Jujutsu sorcerers. It began as a way for sorcerers to stay connected to their coworkers and share information, but it had grown to be something used for networking, planning social outings, and getting to know sorcerers from different branches.  

You’d looked at Gojo’s page before of course, back before you met him, when you were just a curious fan. He mostly shared memes about Jujutsu society, pictures from the places he’d traveled for work, and photos of the various treats and desserts he discovered at different restaurants and shops. There were occasional selfies, almost always with his sunglasses rather than his blindfold, and a few photos of him with friends. He often had his arms casually thrown around Ieiri Shoko and Nanami Kento, with both of them generally looking annoyed. 

You scrolled through his page, feeling desperate and pathetic as you searched for any sign that he felt anything at all about what happened between you. Even him sharing a vague, sort of sad quote or meme would have satisfied you. There was a four day period immediately following your last encounter where he didn’t post anything at all, but he could have simply been busy with work. 

One of his most recent posts was a selfie of him pulling down his shades and looking at the camera with gorgeous, bedroom eyes. It was the first one you’d seen with his eyes clearly visible, and it made you ache in more ways than one. The caption read, “The real reason I keep my eyes covered is to keep the whole world from instantly falling in love with me!” What a Gojo thing to say. 

His students had responded with laughing emojis (and in a couple of cases, barfing emojis). Ieiri Shoko commented with only a gif of a woman dramatically rolling her eyes. Nanami Kento commented with one word: “Disgusting.” You found the interactions charming, but also felt sad when you realized you’d never be a part of that group, a part of Gojo’s life. You’d never be able to casually talk and joke with him like the others did. 

Just once, during a night when you couldn’t sleep, you actually wondered if you should have just let him keep using you for sex. You thought about the “weekend of debauchery” he’d mentioned and imagined what it would have been like. Did he really want to tie you up in his basement? And why did the thought of that make you wet? 

You finally fell asleep right after thinking these things, and had a nightmare in which he kept telling you how unworthy you were to be his girlfriend, as he walked off with a glamorous, powerful woman on his arm. 

When you awoke, you had renewed resolve that you made the right decision to walk away from him.

Nearly a month after your second time sleeping with him, you crossed paths with him on the street. He was wearing his blindfold, but he pulled it down as he stopped in front of you and asked how you were doing. 

You wished he hadn’t. You didn’t want to see his eyes. You gave a vague, cordial reply and continued walking down the street, taking deep and steady breaths to keep yourself from bursting into tears until you could get far enough down the street to dart into a cafe. You bought a coffee just for an excuse to be there, but left it untouched on the counter and instead rushed into the restroom to cry in private. 

Seeing him hurt. Hearing his voice hurt. The fact that he didn’t seem bothered at all, that he had absolutely no hesitation in speaking to you, as if you were just friendly acquaintances, hurt. Deeply. But you pulled yourself together, dried your eyes, and walked out of the cafe with your head up. 

It would take time to fully heal, as all wounds to the heart did. 

Three weeks later, you met a grade one sorcerer on a mission who asked you to have dinner with him sometime. His name was Haruto, and he was kind to you. Handsome in a completely different way than Gojo, he was respected and liked among the assistants for his down to earth attitude. You accepted the dinner invite, and soon after, the two of you began dating. 

You liked him, but so far you hadn’t fallen in love with him. You kept waiting to feel that burning passion you felt for Gojo, that ache to be in his arms, but it hadn’t happened yet. Still, a slow burn romance might be a better fit for you, and you enjoyed Haruto’s company enough to date him a while longer and decide how you felt. It was clear that he wanted to be intimate with you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do that yet, not so soon after your experience with Gojo. But Haruto was patient, never pressuring you. 

As time passed by and the season changed from autumn to winter, you thought less and less about Gojo.

****************

Gojo wasn’t dealing with the fallout from his last hookup with Little Miss Nobody very well. He’d went through several different reactions, from anger at her for saying the things she said to guilt for saying the things he said to her. At first he tried to convince himself that he’d done nothing wrong. He’d been honest with her about the sort of relationship they could have. His only mistake was in telling her that after fucking her again. 

Just like before, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Despite being busier than ever with missions and his teaching job, his mind kept wandering to her. He worried she would do something reckless on a mission. She wasn’t a fighter, but she clearly wouldn’t hesitate to endanger herself to save someone. He admired the courage that took, but he found himself wishing she would just be a coward from now on. She didn’t have the strength to back up that desire to protect. 

Sometimes he laid awake at night, jacking off while remembering their encounters. It was almost too easy to get off, picturing her with her hands tied behind her back, her face pressed into the pillows. Every time he wore his blindfold, he remembered how it had looked around her wrists. 

Then, he saw her on the street one day. He spotted her from across the road, but she hadn’t noticed him yet. She looked like every wet dream he’d ever had, jeans tight over her perfect ass, a form-fitting sweater with a cutout right over her ample cleavage. She looked soft and squeezable. Pliable. His first thought was that he wanted to pull her into his arms and just hold her. His second was that he wanted to hear her voice. 

He crossed the road and approached her, trying to act as casual as possible. When she looked at him, there was an instant where she looked stunned, but she quickly covered that up with a pleasant smile. He pulled his blindfold down and said, “Hey, how’ve you been?”

It was petty of him, he knew, but he knew she liked his eyes. He wanted her to see them again, perhaps to make her want him again. There were plenty of hotels in the area and-

“I’ve been good,” she said, her face frozen in that same mild expression. “Thank you for asking.”  

And then she was gone, walking away quickly and then going into a cafe down the street. He thought briefly of following her, trying to talk to her again, but abandoned the idea. She clearly didn’t want to talk to him, and he wouldn’t press her into a situation that upset her. 

He’d left feeling frustrated, in several different ways. Finally, he grew desperate enough to talk to his friend about what was going on. But when he’d gone to Shoko for advice, she had been blunt with him as usual. 

“Are you a fucking moron?”

He gaped at her. “Huh?!”

Shoko took a drag of her cigarette and regarded him with a withering stare. “You find a girl who’s sweet, brave, laughs at your shitty jokes, who fucking bakes, and likes it rough? And you manage to screw it up? You’re hopeless.”

Gojo was sitting on a bench in the outdoor area of the high school, near some vending machines. He leaned back, slapping his forehead as Shoko stood beside him. “I don’t know where I screwed up,” he said, “I just told her the truth.”

“You told her she wasn’t good enough for you immediately after fucking her. Do you think anyone wants to hear that?”

He glanced up at his friend. “I didn’t say that to her.”

Shoko met his eyes. “Did you deny it?”

He sat there silently for a moment, thinking. “I didn’t know how to respond to that,” he finally said. “I don’t think she’s not good enough for me. If anything, she’s way too good.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“It’s not about her as a person, or even me as a person. Maybe I’m being a narcissistic asshole. But I feel like I should be with someone closer to my level in terms of status, you know?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t know.”

Gojo sighed. “I just… can’t imagine myself with an assistant who can barely use cursed energy. She’s weak. She’s not from a sorcerer family…”

“Geto wasn’t from a sorcerer family,” Shoko pointed out. “That didn’t seem to bother you.”

Gojo looked at her suddenly. Shoko rarely mentioned their departed friend. “Suguru was strong. At one point as strong as me,” he replied. 

“So?” Shoko asked. “A lot of people would call me weak. I sure as hell can’t fight.”

He stared at her, realizing she was making excellent points. Why did it matter what someone’s status was? He never cared about status when it came to picking friends, so why care now? Maybe he had to face the fact that he’d gotten too full of himself over the years. He’d started looking down on those who were weak within Jujutsu society, even if he felt no ill will toward them. 

He looked at Shoko, who was a precious friend, and couldn’t imagine looking down on her, even though she was exponentially weaker than him. Then he remembered Little Miss Nobody’s crying face, and he realized how monumentally stupid he’d been. 

“I seriously fucked up, didn’t I?”

Shoko exhaled, smoke drifting around her face. “Sure did.”

He leaned forward on the bench, resting his hands on his thighs. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”

“For starters, you better be damn sure of what you want,” she told him. “I’m serious, Gojo. Don’t toy with her again. Don’t contact her, don’t stir up her feelings, and for God’s sake don’t fuck her unless you’re sure you want to start something serious with her.”

Gojo nodded. “I’m sure.” He’d never felt more certain of anything. He saw her face everywhere he looked. He heard her voice in his dreams. He hadn’t even been able to fuck anyone else since her. He’d tried once and couldn’t finish, and boy was that embarrassing. 

“Then call her,” Shoko said. “Apologize, tell her you were wrong.”

“I don’t have her number,” Gojo said, remembering with a small degree of shame how she’d shyly offered it to him after their first time together and how he’d rejected it. 

“We can probably find it,” Shoko told him, digging into the pocket of her white coat for her cell phone. “I have a couple of friends who work at her branch.”

Gojo perked up, listening as Shoko called someone and made a bit of small talk before asking if they knew Little Miss Nobody. Shoko gave him a thumbs up, and asked the person to text the number over. Then he heard Shoko say, “Oh, she is? Right now?”

After the call ended, Shoko said, “They’re sending the number over but they said she’s in Tokyo right now. She’s supposedly meeting some friends for drinks at that bar for sorcerers in Ikebukuro.”

Gojo stood up. This was the perfect opportunity. He could talk to her in person, apologize properly and see if this could be fixed. He knew exactly where the bar was, having gone there to hang out with Shoko and Utahime just one week prior. He thanked Shoko for her help and hurried over to the bar. 

It wasn’t very crowded yet when Gojo arrived. It was late afternoon, and customers wouldn’t start pouring in until at least seven. He scanned the room for her when he first walked in, and quickly spotted her sitting amongst several other sorcerers in a corner booth. She was smiling, and he was glad to see her happy. 

He took a seat at the bar and ordered a soda, then tried to keep from attracting any attention. It didn’t happen all the time, but occasionally people recognized him and acted like they’d seen a celebrity. He supposed he was the closest thing Jujutsu society had to a celebrity, and while he usually found it flattering to be approached in that way, today he hoped no one noticed him. He planned to wait for her to go to the rest room or even to the bar. He didn’t want to approach her when she was surrounded by people. 

So he sat, and waited, and watched. After several minutes, he noticed that the man sitting to her right was a little too handsy with her. The man kept touching her arm and subtly leaning closer to her. Gojo didn’t like that, but she didn’t seem to mind. She was a little naive about things like that, so maybe she didn’t even notice. 

But the more he watched and listened, the more a knot tied itself together in his stomach. She was also leaning toward the man, giggling at something he said, playfully slapping his arm. Then, the man threw his arm around her, and she smiled, doing nothing to push it away. 

The realization hit Gojo like a punch to the face. She was with this man, romantically. Gojo was too late. He’d spent too much time being an egotistical jackass, and now she’d moved on. He couldn’t blame her. She had the right to pursue happiness with someone else. But where did that leave him? He sighed and lowered his head. For the first time in his life he considered trying to get drunk. 

He heard chattering from her table and glanced over. Little Miss Nobody, as well as the rest of the women in the group, were leaving together. Something about going to see a movie together. Gojo moved to the other side of the bar before they got near, making sure not to be seen. He watched her walk out, and it felt like she was stomping on his heart with each step she took. 

The thought occurred to him that he could potentially take her away from the man. If Gojo talked to her, maybe she’d decide she liked him more. But should he do that? She seemed happy. What right did he have to burst back into her life and possibly screw it up?

While he sat there, deep in thought, he almost didn’t notice the man she’d been with coming to sit at the bar, just a few seats down. But he did notice, and he couldn’t help paying attention to him. 

The man’s friend, the only other man who’d been at the table, sat down next to him. 

“Any luck yet?” the friend asked. 

The man shook his head and took a drink from his glass. “Nope. She’s still holding out. I think she’s hung up on some ex boyfriend or something, but she won’t say it.”

Gojo’s ears felt like they were on fire. His full attention was now on this conversation, but he sipped his Coke and pretended not to be listening. 

The friend laughed. “Sucks to be you, dude. You score a hot girlfriend and can’t even fuck her.”

The man laughed too. “I’ll wear her down. She’ll be sucking my dick soon enough.”

Gojo’s hand gripped the glass so hard, he had to force himself to calm down to avoid shattering it. 

Then the friend said something else, and Gojo felt his skin prickling with rage. 

“Don’t forget to record it when you finally get her naked. You promised you’d show off the goods.”

The man nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve got cameras hid around my bedroom already. She doesn’t have a clue.”

“Good,” the friend replied, “cause I’ve been dying to see those tits for months.”

They both laughed, and Gojo stood up from his seat. He walked the few steps over to the two men and stood looming over them. He was wearing sunglasses instead of his blindfold, but he was still recognizable to most people who noticed him. The man she’d been with gaped up at him. “Gojo?”

Gojo grinned widely. “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys,” he said in a friendly tone. “Can you share those recordings with me when you make them?”

The men glanced at each other, looking like students who’d been caught smoking by a teacher who then asked for a cigarette. 

“You… want me to send you recordings? Of my girlfriend?”

Gojo’s grin was probably becoming more frightening as the moments passed. “Well you’re sharing them with your buddy, right? What’s one more?”

The man shrugged, still looking a little uneasy. “Sure, why not? Give me your number.”

Gojo kept staring at him. “So she has no idea you plan to do this?”

The man must have mistaken Gojo’s slightly unhinged expression for perversion. He laughed and said, “She’s clueless. Totally naive. Wait till you see her! Huge tits, fat ass, cute face. She’d be a perfect porn star.”

The friend chuckled and added, “Hell, I guess she will be after this. We could make a fortune selling the videos!”

That was enough. That was all Gojo could bear to listen to. He’d let the guy dig a big enough hole for himself. “Call her,” he said in a low voice, and both men looked at him with confusion. 

“What?”

Gojo’s smile was gone. He pulled off his shades and glared at the man. “Call her. Tell her you need to see her in private. It’s urgent.”

The man didn’t move, he just stared up at Gojo as if he’d sprouted another head. 

Gojo leaned down. “I think she has the right to know about this, don’t you?”

The man looked positively horrified. A bead of sweat ran down his face. “You want me to tell her? I can’t do that! She’ll-“

Gojo looked at the man the way he would look at a curse that had just attacked him, and the man’s words died in his throat. Gojo put one hand on the man’s shoulder. “I said call her. Right fucking now.”

The man’s fingers were trembling as he pulled his phone from his pocket. As he began dialing, Gojo pointed at the friend. “And you, if you ever so much as glance at her again, I’ll rip your eyeballs out of your fucking head.”

****************

You were standing in line with three of your friends to buy tickets for a movie when one of them asked how things were going with Haruto.

“Okay I guess,” you answered. “I’m still not sure how I feel about him. I like him, but I don’t think I’m in love with him.”

Your friend Sumi smiled reassuringly. “Give it a little more time. You guys are still getting to know each other.”

Aiko, another friend that you had been on many missions with, sighed and patted your back. “You’re still holding out for Gojo Satoru, aren’t you?”

Sumi and the third friend Keiko looked surprised, and you instantly reddened. “Huh? Gojo? What do you mean?”

Sumi asked, looking from Aiko to you. 

“They hooked up,” Aiko said, “twice.”

You looked at her with wide eyes. You’d never told her about that. “How did you know?”

She grinned. “Actually I just suspected it, but now you’ve confirmed it.”

You winced, but she laughed and went on. “The first mission we were all three on, you left the sushi joint with his arm around you on the last night. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened. Especially with his reputation. Then the second time, you two disappeared together in the middle of a mission.”

Sumi and Keiko stared at you for a moment. When you didn’t deny anything Aiko said, they launched into a string of rapid questions. 

“How was it?”

You shrugged. “Uh, nice?”

“Is he good in bed?”

“…. Yes.”

“Does he really have a huge dick?”

You blushed, but nodded, and the girls made a squealing sound. 

“I heard he keeps his sunglasses on during sex. Is that true?”

“I asked him to take them off,” you answered. 

“Can’t believe you scored him twice,” Aiko said, interrupting the interrogation. “From what I’ve heard, he never sleeps with the same person more than once.”

You blinked. “Really?”

Aiko nodded. “Yeah, he’s a one and done kinda guy. Guess he doesn’t want to get serious with anyone. Speaking of which, you should be careful. Don’t get too involved with him. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to settle down, from what everyone says about him.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.”  You gave a vague answer. Aiko had no idea what had really happened between you and Gojo. You hadn’t realized that being a repeat lover for him was so rare. You wondered what the girls would think if they knew he’d invited you to spend the weekend at his place. 

But all that was over, you reminded yourself. You and Gojo were over. You had more respect for yourself than to be flattered by a guy, even one as amazing as Gojo, wanting to use you as a sex friend. 

Your phone suddenly rang, and you fished it out of your purse to see who the caller was, thankful for the distraction. It was Haruto, and you felt a little guilty that you’d just been talking and thinking about another man. You answered, and his voice sounded strained on the other end. 

“I need to see you,” he was saying, the words coming out a little too quickly. “It’s urgent.”

“Right now? But we were just together,” you said, confusion building in your mind. You hoped he wasn’t just trying to get you in bed. His attempts had started to feel a little pushy lately. 

“It’s important,” he said. “I’ve rented a hotel room near the bar so we can talk privately.”

“Haruto, I’m really not comfortable going to a hotel with you.”

“It’s not what you’re thinking, I swear,” he told you, his voice sounding frantic. “I just… need to talk to you. And it has to be in person. Okay?”

You sighed. “Alright. If it’s just to talk.”

After you ended the call, you got a text from Haruto with the name of the hotel and the room number. You told your friends what happened and waved goodbye to them before heading back to see what was so urgent. 

As you walked down the carpeted hallway of the hotel, you felt a faint feeling of panic, like something might be very wrong. Had Haruto received bad news? Or perhaps he’d grown tired of waiting and had decided to break up with you. The thought made you feel relieved rather than worried, and you thought that was a bad sign for your relationship. 

You reached room 404 and took a deep breath before knocking. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Haruto stood on the other side. He looked terrible! His face was damp with sweat, his skin was pale, his eyes darted about like a frightened animal’s. “Haruto?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”

He stepped back and motioned you in without a word. When you stepped through the door, your breath caught in your throat. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed was Gojo. No blindfold or sunglasses, which was rare, and his face looked deadly serious, which was even more rare. He stood up as Haruto shut the door behind you. 

“Gojo? What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

Gojo’s expression softened when he looked at you. “I overheard your boyfriend talking to his buddy at the bar after you left. I think you deserve to know what he was saying.”

You looked curiously at Haruto. He wrung his hands nervously and looked at the floor. 

“Haruto,” Gojo said, and there was a coldness to his tone that you’d never heard before. It was like that one word alone was the most terrifying threat in the world. 

Haruto nearly jumped at the sound, then he finally looked you in the face. “Alright! Fuck it, I’ll admit it! I have cameras hidden all over my bedroom. I was gonna record us whenever I could talk you into sleeping with me!”

You stared at him, hearing the words but not processing them. “Record us? What are you talking about?”

“I was gonna make videos of you without telling you,” he said. 

Gojo chimed in. “Tell her what you were gonna do with the videos, Haruto.”

Haruto was avoiding your gaze again. “I was gonna share them with my friends. And maybe sell them online.”

Ah. So that was it. He didn’t like you. He didn’t care about you at all. He just wanted to sleep with you, just like Gojo. Just like all the guys who approached you in high school and even now. Only this was much worse. He wanted to share your intimate moments with others against your will. Thank god you hadn’t slept with him. 

You glared at him, your face feeling hot with humiliation and your eyes becoming wet. All this had to happen in front of Gojo! Haruto took a step toward you. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t-“

“Stop,” you said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to hear another word. Stay away from me.”

He must have known you were serious by the look on your face. His expression changed from guilt to annoyance. “Fine. Whatever. I was only interested in you for your tits anyway. Not like you’ve got anything else I want.” 

Gojo stepped over to Haruto and shoved him toward the door. “Alright, you can get the fuck out now, you useless piece of shit.”

Haruto flinched at the harshness of Gojo’s voice, and was out the door in seconds. Now alone in the room with Gojo, you turned your back to him so he couldn’t look at your face. You were already embarrassed enough. 

“Thank you for warning me about him,” you said, trying and failing to keep your voice steady. You wanted to leave, but you also wanted to give Haruto enough time to be gone by the time you got down to the hotel lobby. You definitely didn’t want to run into him again. 

You heard Gojo’s footsteps coming closer to you, then his voice, so much softer than before, asking, “Are you okay?”

Wiping your eyes, you turned to face him, surprised that he was already so close. “I’ll be fine,” you said with a fake smile plastered on your mouth. Then you stepped toward the door to leave. 

Gojo suddenly grabbed your wrist. “Wait,” he said, “I was at the bar tonight because I knew you’d be there. I wanted to talk to you.”

You pulled your hand free of his gentle grip. Tears were still burning your eyes. “Please, I can’t handle this right now,” you told him. 

“Handle what?”

“You telling me again how I don’t meet your standards but you’ll lower yourself enough to fuck me sometimes. I get it, okay? Just please leave me alone.”

Gojo just stared at you, a hurt expression on his face. “I guess I deserve that,” he said. “But no, I came to apologize. I was wrong. I was an idiot, a dumbass, whatever you wanna call me. I said a lot of stupid shit that hurt you, and I’m sorry. If it’s not too late, could we start over?”

Your heart was doing flip flops. You’d longed to hear him say those words, but… after what just happened with Haruto, you had to be more careful. 

You looked away from him, not wanting to let him charm you with those beautiful eyes of his. “Do you want me as a sex friend?

Or something more?”

He moved closer, close enough to put his hands on your shoulders. “You’re all I can think about when we’re apart. I miss the way we talked during that first mission, the way you laughed. I want us to go back to that. I want to see where this goes. So I guess I’m asking if you’ll be my girlfriend.”

You turned away from him. “I’d love to, but I can’t be a secret, Gojo. If you can’t tell anyone about us-“

“I’ll tell the whole world!”

You looked at his face. “What?”

He looked totally serious. “I’ll tell everyone. I want everyone to know.”

You almost dove into his arms, but something held you back. “It’s easy to say that here, right now, in a hotel room. Will you still say that in the morning?”

He hesitated for a moment, and you felt that familiar sense of dread. But then he pulled out his phone and closed the distance between you. He wrapped one arm around you and pulled your face closer to his, then he kissed your cheek. At the same time, his other hand held up his phone and took a selfie of the two of you.  

He pulled away and began tapping on his phone, leaving you stunned into silence. Then, your phone chimed. You pulled it out and found a notification that you’d been tagged in a post on Mystigram. With trembling fingers, you opened it to see. 

Gojo had posted the picture of him kissing your cheek to his page, and tagged you in it. The caption read: “Me and my hot girlfriend! Try not to be jealous!”

Your eyes flew back to his face. He was grinning at you. The post started getting comments immediately. 

Itadori Yuji: Congrats, sensei! 😁

Kugisaki Nobara: Ugh, she’s way too pretty for you! 

Ieiri Shoko: Try not to fuck this up.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. But you had one more question. 

“What made you change your mind?”

Gojo was laughing as he read over the comments pouring in. “Oh, it just took Shoko talking some sense into me. I was going crazy, worrying about you being on missions, wondering what you were doing, craving your homemade sweets… so I went to her for advice. She’s always had a way of making me see logic.”

“You told her about me?”

“We’ve been friends since high school. Of course I told her,” he said. Then he laughed again. “I told Nanami too but I don’t think he was paying much attention. I was mid sentence when he said, ‘Please stop telling me about your sordid escapades. I’m going to vomit.’ And that was all he had to say about it.”

He’d told his friends about you. He’d been worried enough about this situation to consult them. And he didn’t mind those closest to him knowing about you, even before realizing he’d been wrong. Those thoughts warmed your heart. 

Before you knew it, you were crying again, so overwhelmed with emotion. Gojo dropped his phone on the bed and wrapped his arms around you. “So? Are we a couple now?” he asked. 

You nodded against his chest, and his arms tightened slightly. “Great,” he said, stroking your hair. “Want me to fuck you?”

A laugh escaped your lips, and the tears stopped. You pulled back and looked up at him. “So romantic.”

He leaned down and kissed you. “I’ve been dreaming about rearranging your insides,” he whispered, his voice tingling in your ear. “Have you been dreaming about me?”

You kissed him back, tasting his lips. “Yes,” you breathed out. 

“What were you dreaming?” he asked, his voice turning husky as his hands began to roam over your body. 

“Ahh,” you moaned as he kissed your neck. “It’s… embarrassing…” You had been dreaming about him. A lot. Most of it had been quite filthy.

One of his hands slipped under your dress, rubbing up your bare thigh and then squeezing your ass. “Embarrassing? Heh. I’m gonna have to fuck that shyness out of you.”

That sounded fun, you thought, raising your arms to allow him to pull your dress over your head. You unzipped his jacket, your hands desperately trying to get his clothes off as fast as possible. 

The jacket discarded, he pulled his black T-shirt off next, then stood back to look at you in your silky black underwear. “Seriously,” he said, “tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen, whatever it is. Any fantasy, any dirty idea that pops into your head. I wanna hear it.”

You looked at the floor and muttered something. 

“What was that?”

You stepped closer and met his gaze. “I said… I want you in my mouth.”

His beautiful eyes widened, and there was a glimmer of excitement in them as he grinned and said, “Holy fuck, I hit the jackpot!”

***********

Gojo was lying on his back in the bed, completely nude, his naked girlfriend halfway across him, her warm, wet mouth greedily sucking his cock. He raised his head up to watch. He couldn’t imagine a more lovely sight than her soft, full lips sliding down his shaft. 

He moved one hand down to touch her hair, just happy to have her within reach. She glanced sideways at him, her face tinted pink. How cute of her to be shy even while deep throating him. 

He’d had plenty of blowjobs in his life, even given a few, but this… this was different. Was it because he’d formed an emotional connection to her? He felt so much affection for her that simply being touched by her at all felt far better than anything he’d experienced with anyone else. 

Well, with one exception, but he wasn’t ready to think about that, to compare them. He’d tucked those memories into a neat little box in the back of his mind where they could remain untouched and protected. 

But this wasn’t enough. He wanted to taste her too. He grabbed hold of her legs and swung them up and over him, so that she was lying face down on top of him, her head at his groin and his at hers. She gave a little cry of surprise and drew her knees forward to lift herself off him, but that only spread her thighs apart and gave him easier access. 

“G-Gojo, what are you doing?” Her voice sounded so flustered. He could practically hear the embarrassed arousal. 

“I thought I told you to call me Satoru,” he murmured, pressing his lips ever so gently to her heated, quivering flesh. She jerked, but he grabbed her hips and held her in place. He waited, feeling her taut legs relax slowly, giving her time to get used to this extremely intimate position. 

“Don’t stare at me,” she said in a shy voice, then he felt her lips around his cock again. 

“Oh I’m gonna do so much more than stare,” he said back, using his fingers to open her folds. “I’m gonna do so many embarrassing things to you…” He ran his tongue over her open slit, tasting the plentiful juices. She was drenched, and deliciously sweet. He felt her body twitch nervously, but her mouth never slacked off. He felt her tongue lapping at his tip, her soft hands squeezing wherever they could. 

Her clit was so cute, sitting there so glossy with his saliva and her fluids, completely defenseless to him. His thumb rubbed over it, then he prodded it with his tongue, drawing circles around it. 

She shifted, her mouth leaving his dick long enough for her to moan out, “Satoru… I’m… I’m about to…”

He licked her clit again, slowly. “You can cum first,” he said.

She wiggled a bit in his grasp, but then took him into her mouth again, stifling her own moans. She took him so far in it felt like he was being swallowed, and the little gagging sound she made sent shivers through his entire body. Now it felt like a competition, and Gojo never lost. 

His tongue was on her clit again, and he pushed two fingers inside her, curling them in a way that made her thighs tremble on either side of him. He felt himself slide out of her mouth, and then her tongue was gliding over him from base to tip. He could feel his cock twitching under her touch, but he kept himself under control. Then, he heard her sweet little voice say, “Satoru… cum in my mouth… please?”

Fuck, she wasn’t playing fair! His breath hitched in his throat, a shudder rippling through him, but he wasn’t defeated just yet. He leaned up and lapped at her clit again, gently, slowly, feeling her clenching his fingers, and then he grazed his teeth over it, lightly pulling on the tiny nub. 

She moaned around his cock, her legs shaking, and he knew he’d won. He kept pumping his fingers into her as she rode out her orgasm, her lips still around the base of his cock. With no more reason to hold back, he let the feeling of her hot mouth overwhelm him, and he came straight into her throat. 

He let his head fall back onto the pillow as he panted, and she took the opportunity to turn her body around so that her legs fell off the side of the bed, her face still buried in his crotch. She waited until he was completely empty before she removed her mouth, but a few strings of cum were drizzling down his cock. He held his head up enough to look down at her as she licked him clean.

When finished, she straightened up, sitting on her knees beside the bed. She looked like an angel, or a goddess. How could he have ever thought he was out of her league? How did it take him so long to realize how amazing she was? He’d been a fucking fool. 

He sat up in the bed and smiled at her. “Take a shower with me?”

She blushed. “A shower? I guess so.”

He laughed. “How are you shy after everything we’ve done? I had my face shoved in your pussy just now.”

She turned beet red. “Ahhh! Don’t say that! I was trying not to think about it!”

He stood up from the bed and pulled her into a hug, their naked bodies pressed against each other. “Do you still doubt how hot you are? You can’t even imagine how many times I’ve jacked off while thinking about you.”

She looked up at him. “Really?”

He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Really.”

She smiled then, and took his hand as they walked into the bathroom. 

**************

You were still nervous about showering with Gojo. It felt like such a private thing to do, but he seemed really into the idea, so you agreed. He joked around as he turned the water on, pretending he didn’t know how to work the knobs and “accidentally” spraying himself in the face. He was trying to put you at ease, and it was mostly working. You found yourself giggling at his antics as you both stepped into the large, walk-in shower. 

Before you could even reach for the small bottle of shampoo sitting in a tiny corner shelf, Gojo suddenly shoved your back against the glass shower door and kissed you passionately, his mouth overtaking your own. The steamy water was spraying both your bodies, soaking his shiny hair, running down his torso. Without even looking, you knew he was hard again, the large erection pressing against your stomach. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands slipped under your thighs, lifting you up so that your legs could wrap around his body. You were pinned against the shower door when you felt him push inside you, deeply, roughly, the way you loved it. Your back collided with the glass with every powerful thrust, an ache you’d been craving building between your legs as he pounded into you. 

You were going to be covered in bruises after this, but that thought only turned you on even more. Gojo had that wild look in his eyes, the one that almost made you cum on the spot. You wanted him to break you. It wasn’t that you were a masochist. It wasn’t pain that excited you, but rather watching him lose control, seeing that unhinged expression and knowing you had that effect on him, that you could drive him mad with your body. The pain, the bruises, they were just the evidence. 

Burying your face in his neck, you tried to muffle your moans, your breaths shuddering. He was making such lovely grunts and growls, his fingers digging into your soft thighs. You chanced a peek at his face, and he looked like an entirely different person from the man who’d just been joking around with you. His wet hair was partially covering one eye, the other practically glowing with uncontrolled lust, his lips parted, teeth showing as ragged breaths pushed through them. 

God, he was beautiful. Frighteningly so. Inhumanly so. For the second time, you wondered if he actually was a god that had been banished to earth. He certainly fucked like one. 

Your legs slipped from his waist, the water making it hard to keep your grip, and they dangled helplessly above the floor. He didn’t even seem to notice that he was holding more of your weight as he plowed into you, every thrust feeling deeper than the last. Your arms were still around his neck, but your strength was failing you. You clasped your hands tightly and leaned your face up to kiss him. His mouth was hungry upon yours, his tongue shoving its way in. 

When you came, your arms fell to your sides and your body went limp in his arms, quivering with pleasure as he kept fucking you. His grip on you tightened, and after several more minutes of being slammed into the glass door, you felt his whole body stiffen. Then, you felt hot cum shoot deeply inside you as Gojo groaned. 

He stayed inside you for several more minutes, even after he’d finished cumming. It was like he didn’t want to separate from you, but eventually he pulled out and set you back on your feet. You legs gave way immediately, as if they were made of spaghetti, but Gojo caught you. He held you gently until you regained your strength, then he reached you the soap with a grin. 

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine,” he said. 

You laughed, taking the soap from him as he turned his toned back to you. 

An hour later, you were both dressed and sitting on the bed in the hotel room, talking about what each of you had been up to lately. During a lull in the conversation, you leaned your head over on his shoulder and whispered, “Is this real?”

“Hmm?”

You hesitated, then said, “I keep waiting for you to say this won’t work out.”

He wrapped an arm around you. “I’m not gonna lie and say this will be easy. I travel a lot for missions, and my teaching job is important to me, but we can make it work. We’ll spend time together whenever we can. Speaking of which… wanna come to my place next weekend?”

You laughed, feeling the tension dissipate from your body. “For pancakes? Sure.”

“And debauchery,” he said. “Don’t forget the debauchery.”

****************

Epilogue:

The first thing you thought when you arrived at Gojo’s house was, “Holy shit, it’s huge!”

Gojo stepped up beside you and gave you a peck on the cheek. “That’s what she said.”

You giggled at his silly joke and let him lead you inside. The house was of an old fashioned design, with a closed in yard, sliding doors, tatami floors, the whole works. It was a sprawling estate that looked as if it would have dozens of servants roaming the halls. 

“You really live here all by yourself?”

He shook his head as he laid out some slippers for you to change into, then pulled off his own shoes. “I have an apartment near the school that I use most of the time. I don’t use this place often, but this is a special weekend.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said, looking around. Despite the classic design of the structure, it had modern furnishings. You were admiring a lovely vase on a glossy wooden end table when you noticed a large cardboard box sitting just inside the living room. It looked totally out of place, and Gojo noticed your interest. 

“Go ahead and look inside,” he told you, a strange smile on his lips. 

“Okay…” 

You approached the box and pulled the flaps open, squatting down to get a good look. Inside was an assortment of items you couldn’t quite identify at first. But as you began pulling them out and looking more closely, your face began to burn. 

“Are these… all sex toys?!”

Gojo laughed at your reaction. “Well, not all of them. There’s some costumes, handcuffs, edible underwear…”

You grimaced as you pulled out what appeared to be a riding crop, then the biggest dildo you’d ever seen in your life. There was also a skimpy maid costume, among other bizarre garments. “Why is all this stuff just sitting here in a box?”

Gojo rubbed the back of his head, messing up his hair a bit. He looked oddly shy. “I ordered it all. I figured we could have fun trying a bunch of stuff, see what we like.”

That did sound like fun. You examined each item, sometimes having no idea what its function was. 

Gojo sat down on the floor beside you, watching your face as you looked though the box. “If there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable, just put it back in the box and I’ll toss it. Or better yet, I’ll have it delivered to Nanami’s place.”

You laughed then, imagining the strait laced-looking man you met a few days ago opening a box full of items like these. 

When you were finished sorting them into piles of “will definitely try”, “might try”, and “hard no”, you and Gojo both stood up. “So, are you going to give me a tour?” you asked.  

Gojo gave you a somewhat menacing grin, his dark sunglasses blocking out your view of his eyes. “Sure. Let’s start with the basement.”

The End. 

Tag List:

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for yelling at my friend?

this ones a long one.

bg info

so we're both 15, and he's done this thing a couple times where he'll create a new groupchat and exclude certain people who he's not as close to.

to me, this is mean, and i've spoken to him calmly about it before but he kinda just brushes it off and says he's just including close friends.

its also relevant that previously i may have enabled him. like, theres a girl neither of us like and we'd make fun of her sometimes, though not to her face, which is probably worse. i'm trying to be nicer to her but i dont get along with her very well.

on top of that, the origin of the gc we use now is that there was a bigger one and he told me "i just don't feel comfortable with some of these people". so i created a new group chat and let him pick who got added, with the agreement that we'd have to come to an agreement before adding more ppl, just for the sake of everyones comfort.

not sure if this is actually relevant or if im just salty but he doesn't spend time with the people in the gc at school, he sits with a group of juniors n seniors for lunchtimes and only comes around every so often. not sure if he's just spending one-on-one time with everyone or if he's actually not hanging out with us anymore.

into the actual inciting incident

today, we were talking about the groupchat to a friend we'd made recently and added today. he offhandedly mentioned one of the smaller groupchats he'd made for closer friends, and how no one had used it. i got really mad about how casual he was about something i thought was mean of him to do, so i told him something like "i just think that it's a rude thing to do."

and he said something like "well im just including our close friends", we kept going like this for a bit, and I yelled at him "why are the only people that matter the ones YOU like?" and there was more of a kerfuffle i don't remember, but i did in fact cry (self-provoked, he didnt say anything). i apologized for being so dramatic, and he left. it was class time so i left too, and my sister drives me and she had work so i left school really fast.

we have a little routine where we watch a show together on call though and he said yes when i asked about that. after asking him abt our show, i texted him n apologized for yelling at him n asked to talk but i said that i still thought that the way he treats people kinda sucks. no response.

what people irl said

like one person said that i was brave? and that they shoulve said something. the girl we added didnt say anything, and my other friend asked if i was okay after it was all over

why i might be an asshole

i think im being kinda on a moral high-horse when ive enabled and even kinda participated in this behavior before and ofc, yelling was very much an overreaction on my part

additionally, its not exactly a choice to not get along with some people?

why he might be an asshole

excluding people on purpose and ignoring my attempts to talk things out.

with the bias filter on, this behavior is pretty self-centered, because he doesn't hang out with us much at all, and he's never very invested in any of our interests or issues, but he still gets to dictate who gets to be in the "close friends" group chat?

for any advice

i really don't want to drop him as a friend, not just because i like spending time with him, which is most of it. the other part of it is that im really scared of what will happen if he gets mad at me, because i don't want to break up the friendgroup into people taking sides, and to a lesser extent im scared that if that does happen no one will take my side in that conflict. it just doesn't seem worth it to get into a blowout with him about this when i don't want to lose anyone.

thanks for reading all that, this is mostly just to organize my thoughts. render moral judgement at will.

What are these acronyms?

[fatuismooches]

After reading about reader being excited discovering new stuff after their coma....

I cannot find exactly when he got expelled, but i think it's around 400+ hundred years ago or something right??? And that is wayyyy so long ago so like language definitely evolves and changes slightly. So imagine Zandik and reader casually conversing in like ancient old language because reader definitely need to get used to recent languages not to mention reader had to learn Snezhnaya's language because they are currently living in Snezhnaya

OH MY GOD SO CUTE... ❤️ And yes, we don't know exactly when he got expelled, or how old he is... we just know he's at least 400+ years old because that's when the Tatarasuna incident happened!

That's so ARGHHH CUTE I imagine you two would be talking and no one besides the clones could understand. And then when other people are talking you're just standing there confused and waiting for Zandik to translate for you.

Even after you familiarize yourself with the new terms and phrases in the modern language, you still talk to Zandik sometimes in the ancient one in front of other people. It's sweet, kind of like an inside thing that only the two of you know. You definitely flirt with him in the ancient tongue like the good old days at the Akademiya 😔 It's overwhelming at first but you have him and the clones teaching you so it's not too bad! More time is spent by you asking questions like "people say that nowadays? back in our day..." 💀

[holdmymallowsweet]

sneak peek at "What are you doing here?" Ch 04

Ah, there it it, the chapter that had me agonize over it for months. I swear writing this one was like pulling teeth, why is it so much more difficult to write scenes that are already in the game than my own stuff?

But I think I managed in the end, here's your sneak peek and the full chapter should be up sometime early next week (fingers crossed)

As usual, if anyone wants on or off (no judgement) the tag list just let me know, (and here's chapter 3 if anyone who was interested happened to miss it)

Ominis loved the time around Halloween, or at least he used to, as the stabbing pain in his heart reminded him. He’d spent this time last year with a healthy Anne and a cheerful Sebastian whom he could actually stand to be around. Who wouldn’t constantly pester him about his family’s secrets, bringing back fears he had previously locked away. If only he could throw away the key.

The walk in the fresh air unfortunately gave him plenty of time to reminisce about the circumstances leading up to their most recent argument. 

“Have you ever read anything about a ‘scriptorium’? A secret study of Salazar Slytherin’s?”

If his father’s letter hadn’t mentioned it in the same sentence as Noctua’s name, he wouldn’t have asked. He’d been thinking with his heart, not his mind. And if he could have guessed the effect this simple question had on his friend, he would have let it go up in flames, along with the letter.

The second it had slipped out, it had taken root in Sebastians mind, growing into an obsession, and that’s when the constant nagging and questioning had begun.

“A Scriptorium? Do you know where it is? Any idea what could be in there?”

“I know it might be full of dark magic, but Anne was cursed by dark magic, so we might find out what happened to her and reverse it.”

“If it looks dangerous, we could just leave. If it’s protected by powerful dark magic, or something else, we might not even get in there but we should at least try. Don’t you want to help Anne?”

“Do you think I can’t be responsible with what we might find? Don’t you trust me? Is that it?”

Of course he wanted to help Anne. Of course he trusted Sebastian, or at least he thought he did. But the more Sebastian pushed for it, the more Ominis recoiled from the very idea. 

Sebastian didn’t know what they were like, not really. 

The Slytherins. The Gaunts.

Sebastian didn’t have to grow up with them, hadn’t experienced how cruel, how entitled they were, how convinced it was their birthright to mistreat and abuse anyone they perceived to be beneath them because in their inbred minds, their ancestry made them inherently superior.

But Ominis knew. He’d heard it countless times from their own mouths and from the portraits of his ancestors that lined the walls of his family home, how their views of blood purity and status were passed down by generations of like minded fanatics like grotesque heirlooms, originating from Salazar Slytherin himself.

And he shuddered to think what else they might have in common, a complete disregard for any and all kindness and compassion, a proclivity for casual cruelty, revelling in violence, even towards their own flesh and blood-

His chest tightened uncomfortably at the thought. He’d felt it, until it was etched into his very bones, and it was his duty to protect Sebastian from it.

If those traits of his father and brothers originated from Salazar Slytherin as well, there was no telling what might lie in wait for them, what price they’d have to pay for the dubious honour of gaining access to his ancestors' secrets. He was not likely to experience Slytherin’s hospitality merely because he was a descendant- only one in his family had ever thought differently, but he couldn’t bring himself to hope she was right.

[boxofthings]

My dumbass accidentally deleted the ask, but someone was asking for some GhostRoach hcs and how they'd show affection/spend their free time together so here are some that I have:

Mentioned in one of my fics but I hc that Roach just leaves sticky notes everywhere, and this is because I believe in mute!Roach. He does this usually when he's not in a rush to say something to someone, more like leaving lil notes around base for teammates to find (some "good mornings" or small reminders, or stupid doodles, etc)

If they're on missions, he still carries around a pad of stickies, just to doodle or scribble quick notes when he's bored or when missions are going slow. I feel like he's the type to just slap em onto people to get their attention. And he def has passed these stickies to Ghost with the most serious body language & expression, making Ghost think the note is something important, and he'll just look down and it'll be the worst joke he's ever heard of written down (either that or a really crude drawing of Ghost or anyone/thing from their surroundings lol)

Another hc I have (I think this was also in my fic idk for sure) is that Ghost will read to Roach, or at least read out loud when the two are alone. Sometimes it's either Roach sat/laid down close to Ghost, contentedly listening to Ghost's rumbling voice. Or, it'll be more casual, like they both happen to be in the same room, Roach is maybe writing in his journal or cleaning his equipment, and Ghost will just start reading aloud to fill the silence. It's something that I feel like becomes routine, like if Ghost is reading and Roach is near, then he'll just subconsciously start reading out loud :)

Affection-wise, I don't think these two would be a very PDA couple, but also because their relationship would actually be prohibited in the military due to their difference in ranks. So even tho they aren't touchy feely, I def do think they show affection through small actions, esp considering that they have to be subtle. I think these two would have a thing for each others' hands. Usually before every mission, when they're about to be deployed or when they're en route to dangerous territory, at least one of them will subconsciously fiddle with the other person's hands. Kind of like a nervous tick, they'll just slowly reach out for the other person.

If they're about to get sent on a dangerous mission or if they're about to be separated, they'll definitely show more affection either through more prominent touches, or softly spoken reassurances. They’ll probably sit just a lil closer to each other, and at least one of them will def appear more glued to the other person’s side. I think Ghost would be the one to pull Roach aside and whisper a tender "be safe" and I think Roach would place his hand on his heart and then point to Ghost as a way of saying "my heart is with you." Just a quick soft moment between the two in case it's the last time they ever see each other again.

Behind closed doors, they're definitely more outward about their love, I mostly think when they're alone they'll just lie together, usually with Ghost having an arm around Roach. Sometimes Roach might teasingly poke around/caress Ghost's face since it's the only time he'll get to see it, and Ghost will just stare at him exasperated (but lovingly). And this is usually when they'll talk about what ifs or any lingering fears they've been having recently. Maybe Roach will talk about the two living on a farm together, or maybe Ghost will suggest bringing Roach out on a proper date one day.

I do have more! But this is getting quite long so lmk if y'all are interested in hearing the others cuz I got some angsty ones too lmao

[markerofthemidnight]

Tozu x Anonymous S/O Headcanons!

Yeah, that’s right, motherfuckers. I’m doing these now. Consider it a Christmas gift from me to you: whether I’ll do more for anyone else… eh, we’ll see how I feel in the morning.

(Note: I said “anonymous s/o” because I want to make it more ambiguous as to whether said S/O is supposed to be a self-insert, or canon character, or what. Not that it really matters, but anyways.)

Tozu isn’t really a man of particularly high standards.

It could be said that he likes people with interesting stories to tell. Not born storytellers like him, that is, just people who have been through a lot of interesting shit, who have interesting quirks that you can take one look at and go “There’s an interesting story behind that.” How do you think he wound up with Mara? *COUGH* ANYWAYS

Other than that, he’s panromantic and asexual, specifically of the sex-neutral type. He finds it incredibly boring and is surprisingly oblivious to any innuendos people may make around him.

Of course, after a crush on someone starts to develop, he’d be really oblivious to it for a long time. It would likely take about a few weeks before he starts to realise something’s up with his emotions… and after that, it’s not long until he comes to the correct conclusion.

He’s nervous, to say the least! He’s usually got a very good grip on his emotions, but now? He can’t help but be so anxious every time he even thinks of his S/O, and he hates it so much!

After that, he does several “tests” which can be mistaken for short psuedo-dates to gauge whether his feelings are reciprocated. Even if he decides they probably are reciprocated, his emotions keep getting the better of him and he keeps backing out before he can confess.

Mutual feelings would only properly be established under two circumstances: 1. His crush confesses first, or 2. He accidentally confesses without really thinking about it.

The first time they kiss him he just starts bluescreening. He stays completely still for like two minutes before he’s just like “wait what just happened”. He hasn’t even taken off his mask at that point.

From then on, once an official relationship is established, he’s constantly switching between acting like the most formal, responsible husband you have ever seen, and just a straight-up puppy.

It’s all buying em flowers and rizzing em up at first, and then they disappear for an hour and the next time they meet he’s like “WHERE WERE YOU?! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”

He’s also a super clingy sleeper. Prepare to wake up to the feeling of your organs being crushed each day, S/O!

Oh, and they would also need to deal with the undertaking of listening to the plots of every book he reads recently. And the books he read up to 30 years ago.

As far as nicknames go? He changes it up sometimes, but his usual go-to is “dearest”. Just quick and simple.

He has mentioned the prospect of getting married multiple times, but it’s always just a regular thing in casual conversation. He’s not making a big deal out of it, he just wants to get married to his beautiful bride! What’s so special about that?

As far as children go? Yeah, he’d make a terrible father and he knows it. The only time he ever mentions the prospect of having kids also involves the idea of adopting 16 abandoned babies and raising them all to be cunning warriors to make the perfect killing game.

And yes, it’s always adopted kids. Not, you know, the other method of becoming a father. Asexual, remember? If that route was ever mentioned to him he’d just be like “Now why would I ever do that?”

No, the big, “final” step in the relationship to him? It wouldn’t be marriage or kids. I think it would actually be showing them his face.

There’s no reason for him to be so nervous about it, and he knows that. He looks pretty handsome under there, if a little old, and he prides himself on his beautiful face!… Or at least, he would if he hadn’t been wearing his mask almost non-stop for the past few months.

The constant build-up just gave him a bad case of the jitters, and it’s making him worry about something small. They’ve never seen his face before, but… he has to show them. They need to know.

He said it himself: slow burn works better as a form of medieval torture than a writing style. So the mask had to come off eventually.

…And when it did, the ensuing kiss- the real kiss, not just some mockery of a kiss against a plastic goat skull; the affirmation that someone was there, and listening, after so many years left in the dark to rot…

…that meant more to him than any killing game ever could.

…Goddamn it, why was my writing at the end kind of beautiful? Do I want to write romantic fics now?!

Uh, anyways, merry Christmas, fellow Tozu fans.

[cypheroo]

I am absolutely fascinated by the concept of matchups!

Mystreet/MCD or I saw you mentioned Sanji in your recent so One Piece I'd also be interested in 👀

I'm Logan, he/him, 21, I like men, I'm 5'1". I write a lot in my free time, I'm also an enjoyer of reading, casual gaming and theatre. I study psychology and want to be a teacher

Interested to see what you come up with..

DIARIES AND ONE PIECE MATCHUP! ~ ♧

(i'm gonna give you two matchups bc i have never gotten a one piece request before! So you get MCD and one piece!)

SO drumroll pleaseeee! Your matchups areeeee….!

One pieces Usopp!

And!

MCDs Jeffory!

Some headcannons for usopp!

Most evenings together are spent quietly together with both of you doing your respective hobbies or tasks! 

Usopp to me would be your biggest supporter with your dreams and wants to become a teacher so if you need any help with any of it he'd be the first to spring to your side.

You two would have to sleep in the same bed as I think Usopp finds a lot of comfort with having you just with him.

When he is working on stuff he just loves hearing you talk to him about a book you've been reading, or ranting about something that bothered you. 

While Usopp is definitely the type to miss you when you leave his side for more then an hour he just uses the time to make you small trinkets or get work done so when you are home he can spend time with you.

Need someone to read your work and give you opinions? Dude he's right there and more than willing to give an unfiltered opinion on what he thinks. 

He never plans the dates, they just happen, randomly you both going to a park or shopping together

He has oil, dirt, and a lot of stuff on his clothes so expect your clothes to be as well as he is a hugger.

He is big on physical touch so at first when you got together he was a little distant in fear of somehow making you uncomfortable, but he definitely got over that hump rather fast.

Small note here, whenever you kiss he cups your cheeks, with both hands or one, its dependant o how short the kiss is, its just what he likes to do. 

and for Jeffory! 

Capital S for sweetheart, because of his daughter he understands and fully respects you for wanting to be a teacher

The most playful flirting, like it's almost like every day you two meet for the first time with how much he compliments you.

The most random dates, you come home and don't look too tired? Hes taking you out on a date, usually calm ones that dont need either of you to talk to a bunch of people.

He isn't much into reading but he does look into the books you have and figures out what kinds of books you like, he gets them as gifts, so sometimes when you come home there's a book on the table for you and of course he acts like he never bought it for you!

If you're close to your family, he wants to be close to them too. He wants to know them and will do anything he can to be on their goodside, if not he is more than happy to have him and his daughter be that family.

Speaking of daughter , he won't introduce her for a good six months or so but he will absolutely be upfront about her existence and very transparent, he just wants to make sure both of you are serious before meeting her.

Unsurprisingly he is an amazing cook. He makes food for you a lot and is more than willing to learn any recipes he needs to to make your favorite foods as well.

He has these longer slender hands, calloused and scarred in places. His hand is almost always on you, your shoulder, hip. Even idly playing with your hair. It comforts him to always have a hand next to or on you.

He has a photo of you in his wallet just like he does with his daughter. He loves to stare at it when he's away.

He's snappy with people flirting with you. You wouldn't think that with him as he is usually a very calm and happy person, so he acts like that. Although he's not like that super often.

[akookminsupporter]

Hey

How do you get a balance between shipping 2 people (and I kind of 70-80% think that they're together or atleast are crushing hard) but at the same time not cross any boundaries? Their interactions warm my cold dead heart but sometimes I need to remind myself to take a step back when reading some of the discourse on tumblr. I don't think I just casually ship jk and jm but at the same time I can't relate to the way many bloggers here are super firm on their beliefs regarding this (which is absolutely fine, no hate to anyone).

Like the recent discussion on the what was said off camera during JK's live or the supposed voices off camera during Jimin's BB 100 live.. It's not really that far fetched but at the same time I can't get myself to agree with what most people are saying.

Any advise?

I can answer this from my experience or how I have handled this from the beginning.

To begin with, I have always left a margin of doubt that JiKook may not be real, although I firmly believe that the possibility of it being real is high, I also understand that nothing is absolute in this life, especially when you don't have all the information about something. That has helped me to try to see everything that happens in an objective way or as objectively as possible. I am very pragmatic, I believe in what is obvious, what I see and what I understand of course, as long as I don't have to go round and round in circles to come to a conclusion. In fact, it is something for which I have been criticised several times on this blog.

All that has allowed me to be rigorous perhaps, in how I interpret or take what Jimin and Jungkook do together or separately. I don't try to read subliminal messages into what they do or say, I don't try to read them into what people associated with them do or say. I think that is too speculative, even in the context we are in. I prefer instead to believe or emphasise the obvious or what is easy to interpret or understand in a certain way. For example, hickey-gate or the Vlive in new jersey.

I try to take certain moments as cute moments and that's it. I don't try or pretend that X interaction is proof of anything beyond the fact that they get along. Not everything is a clue. Not everything is a subliminal message.

In the specific example you mentioned, I simply listed it as something interesting but it's not something I will use as a reference for anything. The same goes for many instances in Vlives where many jikookers swear that Jimin or Jungkook were hiding, or whispering etc. It's too conspiratorial and therefore not worth focusing on.

Another thing that has helped me is that I do not allow myself to be influenced by what others say or conclude. I draw my own conclusions based on what I see and interpret.

So the advice I can give you is, look beyond what you want to see. Imagine that if what you believe means something, it would mean the same if it were other people. Take a step back if to conclude something you had to go around in circles to get there. Sometimes it's really simple, even if it seems complicated. Trust what YOU believe, not what others say that sounds convincing.

[curse-bearing-hips]

Brokenness is a form of art

Chapter Four

I wanna love you, but I don’t know how

Summary:   Like countless others, Delphine suffered at the hands of Hybern during the attack on Velaris. Two years later, she continues to rebuild her life and fight her demons. Reluctantly befriending the High Lady may just help her connect with her unknown, winged savior.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Word count: 4.1k

______________________________________________________

“So let me get this straight: the High Lord and his brothers were in this shop and you left me in the stockroom the whole time?”

Delphine spent the better part of the morning recounting second-by-second what happened during the High Lord’s visit to the shop to a shocked and angry Yara. She understood her friend’s frustration - she’d feel the same if she was stocking tea and the most beautiful males in history walked into her shop without her knowing. 

Delphine sighed, rubbing her eyes as she faced Yara’s accusatory stance.

“What was I supposed to do? Yell for you to come out and meet them? That wouldn't have been weird at all.”

Yara floundered at the logic, huffing as she twisted a coil of hair around her finger.

“You could have said something like ‘Oh, Lord Rhysand! Thank you for your patronage to my humble cafe!’ really loud so I could hear it in the back. I’d have been out of that storeroom immediately!” Yara argued as Delphine choked out a laugh, wiping down a table as the post-lunch rush waned. 

“Because I definitely talk like that.”

“Sometimes you bats have manners.”

“Not a bat.” Delphine pointed at her friend, rolling her eyes, to which Yara mimicked the action, “Besides, whatever insane sexual fantasy you have in your head is absolutely impossible.” Yara had a wild imagination that Delphine knew was full of salacious scenarios, exacerbated by the smutty novels she read (and forced into Delphine’s hands so they could discuss). She cringed at the thought of the High Lady hearing all of Yara’s explicit daydreams. Delphine was sure they involved a foursome.   

“Improbable.” Yara corrected, but her teasing smirk told Delphine that they both knew it was an impossibility. Delphine huffed a laugh, refilling the pastries in the glass case at the counter.

“Nyx was with them. And they’re mated.”

“Not the Shadowsinger.” Yara prodded in an annoying sing-song voice. Delphine thanked the Gods she was leaning so far into the display to hide the redness of her cheeks at the mention of the handsome male.

“He could be. He seems very private.”

“You’re no fun!” Yara whined, pointing an accusing finger at her friend, “Whatever. Next time someone famous comes in, I’m not telling you.” 

The two worked in companionable silence for a while, trading gossip and cleaning up the morning’s dishes. 

“When’s Varro coming back?” Yara asked casually, returning books to their shelves. Delphine stretched her spine, feeling the delicious cracking of her joints after cleaning up a spill beneath a table and snorted a laugh. 

“Whenever he’s done sleeping with the entire Summer Court, I suppose.” She said, shaking her head causing a few strands of hair to brush her cheek. Yara rolled her eyes, picking at some chipped paint on the shelf. 

“Sounds about right.”

“He travels there often enough, I should think he’s almost completed that challenge.” Delphine continued her duties, humming to herself. 

“What about your male?” Delphine asked suddenly, remembering why it’d been so hard to schedule time with Yara outside of work recently. Yara blinked and cleared her throat, her cheeks darkening at the question.

“What about him?” She hedged. Delphine rolled her eyes.

“Am I ever going to meet him?” Yara bit her lip and Delphine began to get suspicious. 

“Of course. Just not now. We’re…taking it slow.”

“‘Taking it slow’ means you can’t introduce me to him?”

“Del.” Yara whined, dragging out the nickname and dramatically trudging over to her friend. Delphine crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing Yara with obvious doubt. 

“It’s not you. I’m just…not ready to be public.” Delphine rolled her eyes, but acquiesced, holding her hands up in surrender. Delphine narrowed her eyes, feeling her friend wasn’t telling the whole truth, but let it slide.

“Fine. But I promise to be on my best behavior if you ever allow me to meet him.” Yara grinned, wrapping her arms tightly around Delphine in a bone-crushing hug. 

“Thanks, Del. I knew you’d understand!”

Yara let go, stepped away and gave Delphine a salacious grin.

“Now tell me, which of those three males was the hottest?”

Delphine’s cheeks heated at the question, but bit her lip with a sly smile.

“The Shadowsinger. Absolutely.”

______________________________________________________

“Damn it.” 

Delphine hadn’t expected a light shower of rain to become an absolute downpour. Springtime was quickly creeping up in Velaris. It was usually a beautiful affair - daffodils and tulips blooming in window planters as the tree-lined streets began blossoming with sweet fragrance. But flowers needed rain. The ankle-deep puddle that accumulated outside of the tea shop’s front door was a testament to the changing seasons. And a great annoyance she didn’t need at the end of her long day. The water was freezing cold as it seeped into her boots and soaked her socks. The walk home would be uncomfortable, at best. 

She tried to avoid submerging her other foot in the puddle, but that became a precarious dance as she fished the key from the pocket of her cloak. A cloak that was quickly becoming sodden the longer she fumbled for the blasted key. Rain drops slid down her face, blurring her vision as Delphine squinted in the twilight. She really needed to invest in a better awning for this place. 

Her triumphant shout as she seized the key was cut off by an undignified shriek of alarm as a membranous form shadowed over her head. The key fell from Delphine’s slick grasp with a pathetic plonk into the murky puddle below. 

Delphine hastily looked up to find a familiar Illyrian male towering over her, holding up a wing to keep her and himself shielded from the onslaught of rain. She could barely see his face in the shadow of his wing, but she knew the dark eyes that glittered in the faint faelights that illuminated the street. She hesitated a pace back, hitting the solid wood of the door and she nervously clenched her hands. Hazel eyes swept over the movement and he took a slight step away from her, still protecting them from the rain while respecting her space.

“Apologies, my lady.” Azriel’s voice was smooth like ice and just as chilled, like a frozen winter’s night. Delphine shivered at the sound and the huge wing above them twitched, “I saw you struggling and thought to assist.” 

“I - thank you.” Was her lame reply. Could you sound any more idiotic? Azriel shifted uncomfortably at her limited words, lips pursing. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” His contrite tone sent a bolt of guilt straight to her stomach and she frantically sought to correct his misconception, stepping closer to him.

“You just startled me.” Delphine shook her head quickly, sending several droplets of rain flying into his face. He scrunched his nose at the cold water and she stifled a laugh into an unladylike snort. Azriel caught her smothered laughter and returned a tentative smile, shifting more into the faelight. 

Delphine’s heart stopped at the sight - his smile was truly something to behold, a gift given by the Mother herself. How many people earned such a rare thing from him? His smile was the highest compliment, she thought. For such a stoic, aloof male, his smile changed everything. The harsh planes of his tanned, sculptor’s-carved cheekbones softened, a dimple hollowing out on his right side. His lips - Gods, those lips - curved in a fluid motion, revealing straight, white teeth. But his eyes were the most striking part; deep hazel, flecks of amber glittering in the faelights, mirth unabashedly shining through. For a moment, Delphine felt unworthy of this gift, unworthy of this magnificent male’s attention. 

Azriel’s smile fell at her prolonged silence, but his gaze remained on her face. He shifted closer, infinitesimally, and slowly bent down. Without breaking eye contact, she heard his hands slosh through the dirty puddle at her feet for her forgotten key. Bent down, he was now at eye level with Delphine and her heart hammered at his close proximity, her cheeks flushing as fire burned through her veins. The heavenly scent of night-chilled mist, a hint of cedar, and the spiciness of whiskey caressed her senses. Another smile curled at the corner of his mouth and she had the absurd curiosity about what it might be like to kiss it. 

Wordlessly, Azriel straightened, pulling one of her clenched hands with his own and opening her palm. He dropped the wet key in her hand, closing the fist for her and gave a huff that might have been a chuckle at her stunned silence. Her hand burned from the contact. 

“For you, my lady.” He said, the deep, rich tone of his voice warming her beneath her ribs. She was going to die. 

“Delphine,” She blurted out, unable to remember appropriate social cues by this point. His head tilted, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he quirked a brow, indicating that he remembered her name from yesterday’s encounter. He was clearly enjoying her embarrassment - how many other females did he reduce to one-word sentences? “Please call me Delphine, my lord.” She clarified, swallowing roughly and trying to blink away her haze. She stuck her other hand out to him, offering the most awkwardly-timed handshake in history.

He looked at her outstretched hand for a second and Delphine caught a brief nervous tightening of his lips. With a quiet sigh, he took her hand in a hasty shake and she looked down in confusion. The hand that gently grasped her own felt different, rough and ridged somehow. She couldn’t really see it in the darkness, but Delphine gripped harder, staring at his face. 

“Azriel.” He offered, retracting his hand and shoving both in his pockets. 

“I know.” She said quickly, pushing a rogue curl behind her ear nervously, “You’re pretty famous.” Delphine added, as though he didn’t already know. Azriel nodded, his eyes darting over her face in contemplation. Had she said something wrong?

“You should probably lock the door now.” He suggested, inclining his head to the shop door. 

“Oh! Right!” Her cheeks burned hotter, embarrassed again at being caught up in his presence. She hastily locked up and turned to him, expecting him to bid her farewell and disappear into the night. 

“May I walk you home?” 

Delphine’s stomach fluttered at Azriel’s request and she waited a beat to agree so she didn’t seem so desperate to spend more time with him. As if I could make a greater fool of myself. 

“Sure. I live a few streets over.” She dove her hands into her cloak, fingers beginning to stiffen from the spring chill, “But you don’t have to, if it’s out of your way.” She added, feeling guilty for interrupting his night. He cocked his head, giving her a thoughtful look. 

“I want to.” Azriel assured firmly and Delphine ducked her head as he continued to survey her. They began a leisurely stroll, avoiding puddles as they remained sheltered with his wing overhead. 

“Do you like running the tea shop?” Azriel asked and Delphine thought she caught a hint of discomfort from him. She knew the gossip about the Shadowsinger - he was quiet at best, anti-social at worst. She wasn’t sure if Azriel trying to make small talk with her was a good thing or if she just made him so uncomfortable he had to break the silence. The thought made her stomach squirm.

“Yes. Well, most days,” She replied, shrugging, “My customers are very kind, especially after-” Delphine’s sentence stopped short, her heart pounding at the thought of her old shop, now a condemned building on the other side of the Rainbow. She’d purposely found a new building away from the old one, her heart aching every time she had to pass by the ruined specter, waiting to be demolished and with it many good and bad memories. 

“I like the bookshelves.” Azriel said smoothly, bringing Delphine’s attention back to the present.

Delphine stopped in the middle of the empty street and Azriel mimicked her action, effortlessly changing wings to cover them. They stood, barely a foot apart from each other as she stared up at the Spymaster’s face, illuminated by the faelights like a deity chiseled from marble. 

How had he known? Had he sensed her bolt of panic, the fear that lived just beneath her sternum that waited for the right trigger to set it free? The scar on her side burned as a phantom blade teased the blemished skin beneath her dress. His eyes darted across her face as he held her gaze - did he know she was moments from the edge?

“You need more mystery novels.” 

Delphine barked a laugh, half amused and half pained. She hadn’t expected him to say that. 

“You only looked once.” She defended, narrowing her eyes. The Illyrian shrugged, the picture of innocence. A god of Death wearing a halo that made her bones melt just a little. 

“I was very thorough.”

“I bet you were.” She grumbled, though her slight smile gave away the facade. She began walking again and he stayed by her side, protecting her from the weather as they fell into silence. 

It was a surprisingly comfortable silence. As she calmed down, Delphine enjoyed listening to the rain pattering against the cobblestones. She felt Azriel trying to match his strides with hers - she was easily a head shorter than him and it must have been an effort to slow down to his pace. Varro always complained that she walked slow, but it was hard to keep up with long Illyrian legs. Azriel’s hands remained in his pockets, but she surreptitiously inched closer to him as they walked to feel the warmth radiating from him. 

“Are you cold?” He asked suddenly, halting as they turned onto her street. His unexpected stop surprised Delphine and she ungracefully stepped into another puddle. She cringed at the sudden shock, an unseemly squawk escaping her throat at the cold. Azriel unsuccessfully tamped down a smile. 

“I am now.” She groused petulantly, stepping back and shaking her foot in a feeble attempt to wring it out. He barked out a laugh and her head whipped up in his direction at the sound. Such a luxuriating, warm sound. Azriel didn’t seem like the type who laughed like that often and Delphine felt privileged to have witnessed it, her toes curling at the thought, icy cold water instantly forgotten.

The sensation of a warm cloak weighed on her shoulders and Delphine squinted in the dark to make out the fabric. She hadn’t noticed him with a cloak - he’d definitely not been wearing one when he’d found her at the door of the shop and she hadn’t noticed him carrying one. 

“My shadows.” He explained, half-smile still on his face but his eyes seemed tight, “I - you don’t have to-” Azriel sighed, eyes rolling up to the dark sky as he formed the thought before speaking, “I can remove them if they make you uncomfortable.” 

Delphine beamed. The shadows were odd - a strange combination of heavy like wool, but light as a gentle breeze. They were somehow both warm and chilled, though she felt the comfort deep in her bones. The shadows smelled like their master and Delphine took a deep breath, grinning as a wisp of one tickled her cheek.

She thought she saw Azriel’s eyes narrow at the playful shadow, but said nothing. 

“They’re fine.” She promised, praying that her blushing cheeks were lost in the darkness. 

“I’m over there.” Delphine whispered, nodding her head to the end of the street where her modest townhouse stood, a single faelight illuminating the front window. Azriel nodded, jaw clenched, but Delphine thought she felt his stride slow. 

Upon her doorstep, Azriel tucked his wing back as he stooped beneath the awning. The sight of him nearly ducking his head at her front door would have been comical if Delphine hadn’t been so unwilling to end the shared moment of tranquility. The shadows reluctantly retreated from her shoulders, tucking back with their master. Though the one rebellious wisp caressed her cheek, eliciting a small giggle from the female. At Azriel’s huff, the shadow snapped back to him and Delphine thought she saw it behind his ear, thoroughly scolded. 

“Thank you, Azriel.” She said quietly, looking up at the towering male. His hazel eyes scanned over her face, as though he were trying to work out a puzzle. 

“You’re welcome, Delphine.” He said, voice low. A frisson of excitement zipped down her spine at the sound of her name on his tongue. 

Delphine turned to unlock the door and the absurd thought to invite him in clanged around her brain. Would that be too much? What was she expecting? Nothing, if she were honest, but the thought of ending their time together made her oddly melancholy. 

As the lock clicked and Delphine worked up the courage to ask, the sudden whoosh of wind blew her messy braid and she turned to find the front porch empty. 

The Shadowsinger had disappeared into the night. 

______________________________________________________

Mondays and Tuesdays were Delphine’s only days off. At first, it had only been Mondays since it was the slowest day of the week, but then Yara had made her close on Tuesdays saying everyone needs a weekend off. Even though Delphine argued that they often closed early on Sundays, Yara demanded two full days of so-called respite. Despite that, Delphine often spent one of those days cleaning or stocking to prepare for the next open. If Yara knew that, she’d lose her mind. Which she had.

That was how Delphine found herself at the bookshop on an early Monday afternoon, the week after Azriel had walked her home (not that she was still thinking about it). However, visiting the bookshop on the Rainbow was both for pleasure and business. 

Delphine’s newest endeavor was gardening to grow tea-friendly plants. She’d often thought about trying it, but knew she didn’t have the space for a big enough plot to supply the shop. An “experimental hobby” she’d told Yara, who’d just rolled her eyes and reminded her that they didn’t pay their suppliers for nothing. 

And so, Delphine found herself in the nature section of the bookshop, bottom lip in her teeth as she scanned the spines, seeking any title that may be relevant to her new fixation. Delphine finally found promise in Edible Herbs for the Eager when a slender hand reached out for the volume just as she did. 

“I’m so-”

“My apol- shit.” Delphine pulled her hand back as though burned, face to face with the High Lady’s sister, Elain. 

Delphine had often heard whispers that Elain was the most beautiful of the famed Archeron sisters. She’d thought it treason, when one of those sisters included the High Lady of the Night Court herself. But, Delphine could see the appeal now that she was within a foot of the lady. Elain was beauty personified, the kind of beauty that poets pledged their devotion to, that artists made their muses. Delphine wouldn’t say she was more beautiful than the other two - just, softer. She reminded Delphine of a mother’s hug, the smell of freshly baked cookies, the sun shining in the summertime. Elain’s brown eyes said friend and for a moment Delphine had the absurd urge to beg her to like her. 

“My lady!” Delphine’s train of thought ended abruptly as she remembered who she stood before.  She dropped into a hasty curtsey, taking the moment to scold herself for looking and sounding like a fool. When Delphine slowly returned to full height, she found Elain pink-cheeked and looking a little bit embarrassed.

“Oh, please - you don’t have to do that!” Elain stumbled, eyes wide as she pushed a strand of hair behind a pointed ear, “I’m not - please don’t worry about that.” 

For a moment, the two females stared at each other, equally mortified by the situation. Delphine felt the bizarre urge to laugh. There was no way that Elain Archeron was as embarrassed as she was at that moment. 

“I - do you garden?” Elain quickly filled the awkward silence and Delphine let out a soft, defeated huff of a laugh, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“I’m….trying to?” Delphine offered, unsure why she phrased it like a question, “I’ve never done it before and I think I’d like to try.”

Elain smiled softly at Delphine, nodding. She was wearing a yellow sundress made of eyelet lace that Delphine was deeply jealous of - she’d never been able to wear yellow, but Elain looked like the sun personified. 

“But the book is yours, if you want it!” Delphine rapidly recalled that they’d both been interested in the same tome. Elain quickly shook her head, pearl drop earrings the color of champagne swinging with the movement. She raised her hands in acquiescence, smiling shyly. 

“No, I insist!” Elain urged, holding the book out to Delphine, “I’m better with flowers anyway.” 

“If you’re sure,” Delphine said, eyes narrowed playfully at the female reluctantly taking the book. Elain beamed, a smile that nearly broke Delphine’s heart, “You’re more than welcome to borrow it when I’m done.”

Elain laughed, cheeks dimpling. She held her hand out to Delphine and Delphine couldn’t picture those delicate hands covered in dirt and mud. 

“Deal.”

“I’m Delphine. I run the-”

“Tea girl!”

A familiar friendly voice boomed in the quaint tranquility of the bookshop. Delphine flinched from the sudden volume, but Elain beamed as her sister’s mate, General Cassian, swooped upon the females. Close behind him was a faux-irritated Nesta, grumbling about his loudness.

“It’s not a library, Nes.” He scolded good-naturedly, pulling his mate to his side with a wide smile, ignoring her as she tried to escape his grasp.

“It’s a book shop. People are trying to read, you brute.” Delphine almost looked away from the couple as Cassian gave Nesta the most lovesick look she’d only ever read about in risque romance novels. Absurdly, she wondered if Azriel was capable of such an expression. 

“Ladies, this is our heroine and savior, Delphine the Tea Alchemist!” Cassian introduced her as though she were the leading hero of an adventure-filled epic. His attention made her cheeks heat, redness splotching the pale skin. Nesta raised an eyebrow at her and Delphine almost shrank from the female’s shrewd gaze. After a moment, Nesta nodded to herself and stuck her hand out.

“You’re a lifesaver, tea girl.” She commended and Delphine silently preened at the eldest Archeron’s praise. It had seemed like such a normal thing to sell Cassian the herbs to help Nesta during her cycle - she’d done it a hundred times to others. She worried for a moment that they were all just poking fun at her expense. 

“It was nothing,” Delphine said quickly, fingernails nervously drumming on the cover of the gardening book in her hands, “My mother taught me.” 

“Not nothing, Delphi. You saved the whole court.” Cassian grinned, pointing at her with a wink. The nickname nearly made her stumble backward. What the hell was happening?

“Is that a gardening book?” Delphine tensed at Nesta’s blunt inquiry, clutching the tome to her chest. 

“Some people read for personal growth, Nesta.” Elain shot playfully at her sister, who rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, Nesta’s books have plenty of growth in them.” Cassian waggled his eyebrows salaciously at Delphine while his mate’s face reddened. Elain barked a laugh covering her mouth with her hand as she hid an amused snort. Delphine grinned, enjoying the feeling of inclusion, belonging with these fae. The High Lord’s family had always felt like the unattainable - bastions of perfection - and here they were, joking about smutty novels with Delphine, the tea girl.

“No judgment here,” Delphine laughed, hands up in surrender, “I love a good romance as much as the next lady.” Nesta nodded again, blush clearing as she looked pointedly at her sister and mate.

“Finally, someone with good taste. You’re coming with me.” Nesta announced, grabbing Delphine by the forearm and turning towards the romance section. Cassian bellowed with laughter as his mate all but dragged Delphine to the other side of the store.

“Wait!” Delphine said between giggles, “I have to pick out a couple of mystery novels.”

Nesta stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Delphine, brows furrowed. Momentarily, Delphine thought she’d offended the female by her diversion. After another minute of silent scrutiny, a mischievous smile curled at the corner of Nesta’s mouth, as though she knew a secret Delphine wasn’t privy to.

“Mystery novels?” Nesta repeated and Delphine’s stomach sank, feeling like an outsider to an inside joke. She nodded, desperately wanting to know what the other female was thinking, “I can help with that.” Nesta said slowly, a cat-like grin twisting her lips. Delphine searched Nesta’s face for just a second, feeling like maybe they were having a different conversation now.

“You can?” Delphine asked quietly. Nesta squeezed the forearm she was still holding, an oddly comforting gesture compared to the devilish grin on her face.

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

______________________________________________________

Tag list: @azriel-luvr

Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to a tag list! <3 Jenn

[stwbrymilkiss]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍓🥛💋 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

24 Candles

↳ Characters: MHA (Mina, Jiro, Momo, Ururaka, and Tsuyu)

↳ Tags/TW: depressing thoughts, mention of suicide, angst, gender neutral!reader

↳ A/N: Hello! How’s everyone doing? Today just so happens to be my birthday so I thought I’d post something in relation to that. ….Though, it isn’t exactly a fluffy birthday post lol sorry bout that. I tend to get a lil angsty around this time of the year and wanted to play into that! It’s not all sad though! I hope y’all enjoy! ♡

You’ve done this for years. The only difference is that when you first started, you’d watch the candle burn right up until it grazed the top of the cake, mostly in fear of causing a fire. But now you don’t even bother watching it, sometimes even wishing the flames would consume everything around you and burn you up. It never happened, though. Because as soon as the flame touched fluffy white icing, it completely dissipated. Guess not every food is flammable after all.

You had just lit the lone candle that stood in the center of a small white cake. It was the only light that filled the dark vicinity, well save for the fairy lights above your window. Before you could even put the lighter down and fall into your very own pity party, a sequence of light knocks sounded on the door.

Raising an eyebrow, you sauntered over to the entrance wondering who or what it could be. You just moved in fairly recently so it could be the landlord or a neighbor, or even a package you forgot you ordered. A sigh slipped past your lips as your hand grabbed the doorknob. Whatever it was, it disrupted your very boring, out of the ordinary, birthday party for one. Which was welcomed, to say the least.

You were greeted by a girl that instantly reminded you of cotton candy or any kind of delicacy that had the word “unicorn” in it. She wore a bright smile across her face and her body language could be read as “talking to a stranger and hoping this goes well”, or something along those lines. She was in casual wear so you could only assume she belonged to one of the apartments along your hallway. She looked excited, but also a little nervous. As you were taking in her presence, she also had the time to peer into your apartment and her warm smile became strained. You pulled the door closer to yourself, the motion causing her eyes to shift back to you.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to overstep! I just saw a light and without thinking I was looking into your-“

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Can I help you with anything?” You interrupted, wanting to save her from possible embarrassment and you from listening to someone you don’t know ramble about anxiously.

That seemed to calm her down, reminding her why she showed up at your door in the first place, “Ah, yes! My name’s Mina and I live across and two doors down from you! I heard we got a new neighbor and just wanted to introduce myself. It looks like we’re around the same age, so feel free to drop by if you need anything or just want to say hello!”

“Oh. Okay, hello. Name’s (y/n), nice to meet you,” you nodded, “I appreciate the gesture.”

“Okay, well, uh, have a goodnight then!” she stammered, waving as she turned to dash back to her apartment.

“Goodnight,” you answered, but she was already down the hall so you were pretty sure she didn’t hear you.

When you returned to the living room, you noted that the candle hadn’t dwindled too much. Which was fair considering the conversation with your neighbor wasn’t as relatively long as you felt it had been. You stared at the flicker of the fire for a while, almost like you were entranced by its brilliance. Finally, you draped yourself on the couch, one leg off and one arm covering your face.

You were never good at keeping up with relationships. Whether it be your family, friends, or partners. Eventually, they’d get tired of you and leave. Sometimes you’d leave them. Either way, it never lasted long and you always wound up alone again. You just weren’t any good at it. Having to put in lots of effort when you felt completely drained of life or expected to be perfect and just like them. Nothing you ever did was good enough and when it was, it could’ve been better. There were times where you thought there’s just something wrong with you. Maybe you’re not like everyone else or maybe you’re not meant to be surrounded by anyone else but yourself.

You took in a deep breath, ready to indulge in your depressing thoughts when another knock sounded upon your door. You groaned. Will you ever get to hate yourself in peace?, you thought.

Mina was back. And she had friends. 4 of them, to be exact. And they had drinks and convenience store bags in hand.

“A birthday should be spent with others!” Mina exclaimed, shortly introducing her friends. They were all roommates and graduated high school together.

“How do you know it’s my birthday?” you asked. The answer was obvious, but you had the habit of treating people in that way.

“Because of the cake!”

“What if it was a cake in honor of someone’s passing?” Mina gasped and one of her roommates, Ururaka, lightly hit her. You chuckled softly, “I’m kidding. It’s my birthday.”

“Then, let’s celebrate together!” Jiro declared. The rest of them chimed in agreement.

When you hesitated, one of the other girls, Momo if you remember correctly, shyly held up a box of candles, “Um, we don’t want to pressure you, but when Mina was telling us what happened. I thought maybe that candle is kind of lonely by itself.” She gestured her chin to the lit candle behind you.

All these years, as far back as you can remember, birthdays had always just been you. Even as friends and lovers came and went, they never aligned with your birthday so you would end up spending it alone once again. But standing before you were 5 complete strangers that wished to spend this day with you.

“I suppose 6 is better than 1, huh,” you finally relented.

Cheers flew out among the group as you allowed them into your home. Watching them set up your space with drinks, food, and games, you thought to yourself. Even if this is the start of another relationship that will soon wither away, it’s the first one to include your birthday. Maybe, just maybe, this new cog in your broken clock, will be what was needed to fix it.

[angevon]

Books I read 2025 - 1

After not reading much of anything last year, I'd like to get back into it this year.

I went to the movies recently, and the trailer for Mickey17 played before the main feature. The premise looked interesting, so I looked into it further and found it originated from a book. Figured it’s best to read the book before seeing the movie, so I did.

Mickey7 is a science fiction story about a guy named Mickey who is part of the crew of a colony ship that recently landed on the ice planet they intend to populate. His role with the crew is what they call an Expendable. His mind and body have been placed onto something like a backup server, so when he dies, the colony’s body tank can create a brand new copy of him that retains his personality and memories. As an Expendable, it’s his job to take on the suicide missions, such as repairing the ship’s radiation core, testing medicine & vaccines, and exploring the hostile new planet. 

As the title implies, this is the story of Mickey7, the seventh incarnation of the man who once was original flavor Mickey. The book starts with Mickey7 falling into a deep hole in the ice outside the colony dome. His companion on the expedition figures he’s going to die and leaves him there and returns to the dome without him. 

Only, Mickey7 doesn’t die, and makes his way back to the dome with the help of a creeper, one of the normally hostile creatures native to the planet. When he reaches his bunk, he finds Mickey8 already there and uh oh there are 2 Mickeys and that’s a huge no-no. Since neither of them wants to give up their life for the other, it falls on them to sneak around and hide the fact there are 2 of them from the rest of the colonists.

It sure sounds like there could be some fun close calls and goofy clone shenanigans as they try and escape discovery. However, the story is honestly (unfortunately?) not really about that. I’m not sure how to explain what it is actually about, but I’ll do my best. 

First, we should note that the story has a very casual tone. It’s told from Mickey7’s perspective, which is rather endearing. He’s a fun storyteller. Sometimes his vocabulary feels too big for the person he presents himself as, but it didn’t take me out of the story too much.

However, Mickey often stops the storytelling to give you backstory. These scene breaks are abrupt, to give it all a sense of realism since it’s mostly told in present tense. The thing is,, it’s also a bit jarring, as something dramatic will happen, but then Mickey will spend the next 10 pages explaining why what just happened is so important. Like when he found Mickey8, he had to stop and explain why multiples are universally hated.

In this way, it kind of reminds me of the book Reamde, which isn’t in any way related, but also had a focus on infodumping things that turned out to be only tangentially related to the story. At first I found these interruptions to the flow of the story annoying, but then I realized something:

The side stories are all way more interesting stories than Mickey’s. There’s a story about another colony where the colonists keep dying off due to unknown causes, and so the management decides to clone their Expendable to ridiculous levels until he’s the last one left. Would make for a great horror story!

And the story with an Elon Musk-like guy murdering people for the raw materials to clone himself and then taking over an entire planet with his clones. This could be a best selling novel of its own. 

And then there’s the briefly mentioned planet of sentient cephalopods—hello! Why isn’t this book about that??? 

Instead we get Mickey7 and his colony’s problems, all told kinda superficially since he doesn’t seem all that invested in anyone/anything there, even his girlfriend. In fact, Mickey7 spends most of time talking about food rations, with highly specific caloric intake energy values. Now that Mickey8 exists, he’s going to have to share his rations with him(self). And then the commander keeps cutting rations since the colony isn’t doing well and they’re running out and he also just doesn’t like Mickey. There’s so much focus on the (lack of) food, with characters being protective of their rations and complaining about them, but at the same time, it doesn’t actually go anywhere, so it feels extraneous. 

The story is also very… straight? There’s not a lot of sex or anything, but Mickey implies he’s slept around a lot, because as an Expendable he’s like forbidden fruit (I will relent and give a bonus point for him having a threesome with 8 at some point). But many plot points are caused by bog-standard relationship drama and jealousy, which is super boring.

Overall, I think the story would’ve benefitted from more focus and a slower burn. It didn’t feel rushed, exactly, but I didn’t have the time to connect with the characters. The disjointed nature of the storytelling probably didn’t help on this front. I think I’ll give it a solid “it was okay. Not great, but okay.”

Will I see the movie?

I’m honestly not sure.