#can you imagine how many times he probably got so so sick from his burns and could do nothing to soothe himself

[x-neurotoxin-x]

Can we all just take a minute to acknowledge how many times Touya should've been saved but wasn't?

Not even touching on at the home, that's an entirely other tragic situation, I mean the seven years he was on the street. It's such a messed up thing, because you're telling me there's this sickly teenager dressed in burnt up hospital clothes and no shoes wandering around COVERED in VISIBLE wounds all over his body (that only became worse with time as he started training his quirk again) and no one reached out to him? No one tried to help him?

You're saying for a damn near decade he lived on the streets, likely hungry and barely scraping by to get his needs met, probably frequently very sick due to his burns and the conditions he was living in, also in a terribly vulnerable situation where people probably did take advantage of and victimize him and you're telling me nobody helped him? They just ignored him? For nearly a decade??? Yeah, I'd go crazy and start plotting society's downfall, too, that's sick.

[diminuel]

Considering Crocodile likes the finer things life has to offer. I imagine he's a good cook (he's also paranoid enough to not trust many people to cook his food without poisoning him), but also if he's gonna eat it will taste good. I also see him as someone who has problems not being good or excellent at things, so naturally he at one point in time went on a whole hyper fixation induce time period where he got really good at cooking. Regardless eventually cooking becomes a nice relaxing part of his day, to destress and listen to music and he learns to love cooking. (He'd probably hate the monstrous appetite Monkey D's have though).

But when the kids get older, cooking becomes a time when they either sit/help their Baba in the kitchen. They talk about their days and work and anything else. If they had homework (do Crocodile and Dragon actually teach them or send them to school? Or they forever wild jungle kids?) they could do it then. Eventually when they are teens, I feel Crocodile makes it his mission to teach his children at least the basics of cooking. No child of his will not know how to season whatever they catch with spices or at the very least know when meat is cooked, what you can eat raw safely, and which mushrooms are the best.

This probably has varying degrees of effect. Ace probably has a tendency to overcook things by cooking them to hot or too fast. Sabo is fine. If Merry (Baby 2) is a thing (depending on AU) she might be the best or the worst. Luffy probably is okay maybe was taught some self restrain to cook one or two more complicated dishes that are his favorites Baba makes...I feel Luffy would have more restrain if cooking for others, by himself he'd just roast meat likely.

But imagine Sanji gets sick or hurt. The other strawhats are debating who should cook now, and without being asked or really thinking much about it, Luffy steps up and cooks for his crew, as his crew argues about who should cook. Luffy makes that one dish his Baba taught, that Luffy likes to cook. Maybe it's curry or something using those Alabasta spices as it's what Baba always liked to use or a simple stew to help Sanji feel better. But Luffy stepping up because he can and as Captain it's his responsibility to help his crew and Sanji shouldn't worry about the crew eating when he's not well. I don't know how the strawhats actually react to their captain doing this, but I feel it would be amusing.

Dragon should probably be banned from the kitchen. Burns everything. He can cook meat over a campfire, and that's it. The man burns his toast no matter what. Poor guy.

Oooh, I love it!

He does love to cook, but preparing Monkey D. appropriate meals is probably quite a bit harder due to the sheer quantity they consume.

I love the idea of cooking time being family time too (and yes, I do imagine that the kids get sent to school. Maybe Dragon wouldn't be too fussed about it but the jungle can't teach them everything they need to know so Crocodile would insist on school.) and that the kids would learn to cook.

And yes! Luffy cooking for his crew when Sanji can't is so good and I do think they'd be rather shocked about it because he never lifts a finger to cook otherwise so they just assumed he couldn't do more than put meat over a fire (which is generally the thing with Luffy, also in this AU I think. He doesn't share information that isn't relevant or do things that aren't necessary - why cook if they have a cook, why navigate if they have a navigator, etc etc).

Dragon's banned from the kitchen for more than one reason. Not only does he seem to be cursed to always burn his toast (maybe he actually IS cursed *lol* Garp has probably made enough enemies for one of the other curse aimed at his bloodline or firstborn to stick) but the curse will infect Crocodile too! (It's not because Dragon is so distracting, with wandering hands and kisses pressed against his neck~) If the kids don't want burnt food they have to get Dad out of the kitchen *lol*

(When it's Dragon's turn to watch the kids on his own they all know it's time to go hunt for food and cook it over a campfire X'D If they need something else they can go to Makino *lol*)

[coirinthyurilo]

Headcanon and explanation about Will's plague powers and how dangerous he can actually be, even if it's watered down.

Okay. So I get it. Will is the son of Apollo, and he's pretty OP in a sense. He can heal people, and that's like. Technically the most important thing in the Demi-god world. Due to the amount of injuries you can have.

You need a healer on bay. But Will is not only just a healer. He actually has plague powers as proven in TSATS. Able to give hay fever to a primordial that even Zeus fears? If your hink about it. If Will's plague powers weren't that powerful. Nyx wouldn't even have registered that she had gotten sick. But she did?

I doubt even a primordial goddess can even get sick. So imagine her shock when she realized she got sick all because some boy who was made from the sun gave him sickness in one of his domains.

And imagine that much power to even AFFECT Nyx? To a Demi-god or a simple fragile, can die at any-given circumstance, MORTAL. They'd probably have the worst known disease that not even mankind has even registered to know yet.

And I like to think. That as he grows his healing over time so does his plague powers. They're two sides of the same coin. Like they develop at the same time in the same way. Every time Will heals, it adds more power to his healing. With his plague powers it does the same.

That's also probably why he was able to make Nyx sick. Because if he had just found out about his plague powers wouldn't it be really weak at first?

So there. That's my explanation on it.

Now for the headcanon.

I like to think that in a future war or so, when Will is shoved to the edge, seeing multiple die at once. He just wants it to stop. He wants the war to stop. He NEEDS the war to stop. Especially when he finds Nico fatally injured.

And because of that desire and need for that to happen. The only thing his brain processes a logical answer. Is death. If the enemy is dead. The war will end sooner and no one that he cares about will continue dying.

So imagine seeing Will Solace walk into the middle of a battle. Many lay dead at his feet and there's an entire army in front of him. Out of pure fucking anger, he let's out piercing supersonic whistle that catches them off guard. And once they drop their swords to cover their ears.

Will takes a breath.

One single exhale leaves him. And green smoke erupts from his throat, like a poisonous gas. It didn't seem to bother then at all at first, it didn't even smell..?

And it looks pretty harmless, until people start to have burns and rashes, eyes turning red, as their legs give in, their Asaphogus shuts tight and they have the trouble to even breath. And they die. They die and they fall.

And the so called healer. Has once made an entire army sicker. That's how scary Will's powers can be if developed to the FULLEST of it's potential.

There's even a head canon I thought on how Will can drain people's life force and take it for himself to use and resotre his power to heal once he runs out of energy. That would be such a weird and cool concept.

Imagine some guy uses another person's life force and transfers that life force to you so can survive instead? What an eerie and such a terrifying thing to see and think about.

Especially when the harmless healer can most likely be fatal. It's just that no one has ever made snap. 🤷‍♀️

[uncannydevotion]

HI THERE I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO REQUEST THIS FOR SO LONG !!! Can you do a oneshot/fic of alex kralie killing a younger sibling reader (like, early 20s small age gap) who got operator sickness?

notes: the gasp i gusped when i read this request chat let me tell u. first request on the new blog kicking it off strong w a deep dive into the mind of alex kralie 💪💪 this is short and sweet and i hope u enjoy it

warnings: platonic, major character death, operator sickness and its symptoms, alex kralie kills u that's literally the entire plot, i haven't watched marble hornets in the hottest sec so sorry if i get smth wrong.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You weren't supposed to be involved. You were supposed to be off in college, working towards your dreams, not here. Fuck, he doesn't even know how you found him, but he imagines Jay played a part.

He had been crashing at a motel when a knock on the door of the room he was staying in set him on edge. It was one of those rare days where he was overwhelmingly paranoid. He had expected Jay.

Maybe his friend had found him.

Instead, he was greeted by his little sibling.

You had been so concerned when you saw him. He couldn't even get a word out before you were pushing yourself into his motel room, demanding an explanation on what the hell was going on.

From what he understood, it wasn't Jay who had contacted you. Someone had sent you a tape and Alex could only assume it was that hooded bastard out to get him.

Alex had begged you to leave.

Rather...

"I don't want you here, so would you just go away?" Is what he had said, his tone less than friendly.

He should've known you weren't going to listen. Even when you were both kids, you never listened to him. You always wanted to take part in whatever it was he did, even if he didn't want you to. It had been endearing back then, but now it was annoying.

Can you not understand that he is treating you this way for your own good? You needed to leave before you caught that things attention, otherwise he'll have to... deal with you.

You probably thought he was crazy, honestly.

And maybe, if he had been a little meaner to you when you were both little in middle school, you wouldn't be sticking by his side.

Or maybe you would be, because he's your brother. You always valued your family before yourself. It's something people praised about you, but now... now it's just the biggest flaw you have.

Alex tried.

He really did.

Even when you first started showing signs of the sickness, he tried so hard to ignore it, to get you to leave. You still had an out.

But then you saw it. You saw the faceless creature, and you coughed so hard you ended up throwing up, and you blacked out because of it. That was when Alex knew it was too late for you.

In a perfect world, he would've driven you to a hospital and left you there. But we're far from a perfect world, aren't we?

That's why he ended up driving you to the middle of nowhere. He wasn't thinking straight, and deep down he knew this was wrong. This wasn't right. But... he's too far gone. He's doing what has to be done.

Surely, you'd understand.

With Amy, he didn't have the luxury of killing her while she was unaware. It's the one thing he regrets. She didn't deserve to be scared. She no doubt felt betrayed, too.

But with you... he has that chance. And even in this state of violence, Alex didn't want you to see him as a monster. He's just an older brother, doing what he has to do to protect you.

The field he took you to was isolated. Not many people drove down this road because it was overgrown. Had he had the time, he would've taken you somewhere more... sentimental.

The gun in his hand had felt heavy. His head was pounding, hands shaking as he slowly raised it. You looked at peace.

Birds flew away from the surrounding trees as the gunshot rings in the air.

Your lifeless body was burned into his mind. Alex spent hours digging a grave for you, and even after you were long buried, he could still see you every time he closed his eyes.

Your death was nothing more than a tape now, one that Alex kept on his person.

This wasn't meant to happen.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

[torchwood-99]

Eowyn and Theoden Headcanon

My close reading of Eowyn and Theoden's relationship has left me a headcanon that they had dynamic so close it became almost co-dependant.

Theoden had several sisters, a wife, and a Gondorian mother. We know Theodwyn and Elfhild died young, and the absence of Theoden's sisters and mother in the text suggests they died as well. So by the time of Theodwyn's death, all the women Theoden was closest to had died, or had moved so far away they were no longer a presence in his life.

Theodwyn, Eowyn's mother, was his favourite sister, and Eowyn was also said to take after Theoden's mother, Morwen Steelsheen. As a result, you can imagine that after losing all these women he loved, and being left only with a little girl, left Theoden projecting his love for these women onto Eowyn, seeing in her all the sisters he had lost.

Eowyn had lost her father and mother. She was taken from Aldburg and brought to the king's house, which was probably larger than home, and altogether a new place surrounded by new people. She was almost certainly scared, lost and vulnerable. So any affection, any care Theoden showed her, would have been very welcome. Theoden's grandeur, his position as great warrior and king, probably inspired Eowyn as much as comforted her.

As a result, they rather cleaved together.

We see Eowyn waiting on Theoden and standing by his throne, so it seems she acts as his cupbearer. You can imagine Theoden giving Eowyn this role when she is quite young, in order to distinguish her and to keep her close by.

Not only did this mean that Eowyn and Theoden were physically very close together, and it was expected Eowyn pay close attention to Theoden and learn to anticipate his needs of her, it almost meant that Eowyn's status, her purpose and her position, were irrevocably tied to Theoden.

Theodred and Eomer were Marshalls and warriors. Theodred would be King, Eomer would be Lord of Aldburg. When Theoden died, Eowyn would lose her position, eventually supplanted by the next queen. She would be married, but there was no one in Rohan who could offer her an equal or greater position than the one she would be leaving. Unless she married outside of Rohan, Theoden's death would not only mean the loss of a beloved uncle, father and protector, but also a demotion.

Eowyn was proud, and proud of her heritage as a daughter of kings. To be asked to step back, to accept a lesser position, after being raised as the Lady of Rohan, could not have been a welcome prospect. So Eowyn's dignity, and her worth, would have hinged on Theoden, because she had no titles to inherit, and she wasn't permitted to ride out and win glory for herself, no matter how much she wished to.

Eowyn not only grew up depending on Theoden for love and protection, but her identity and sense of self revolved around him. And any glory that was to be hers had to be his glory. When Theoden fell into dotage, Eowyn felt Theoden's "dishonourable" state, his physical frailty, his lack of action, his poor leadership, as not only a cause of suffering for him, but a cause of shame for herself.

Coupled with her thwarted desires to set out and earn her own glory, to protect her kingdom instead of waiting at home for word to come, and then to be forgotten or left to burn, Eowyn's self worth was rock bottom. And when Theoden recovered, and was able to ride out and fight, Eowyn was in the same role, the same cage, she was in the day of Theoden's ailment, and so she was unable to "redeem" herself as Theoden had done.

Meanwhile, after losing so many family members, all but his father women, Eowyn ended up becoming an emotional, and in time, physical crutch for Theoden. He ended up in some ways as dependant on her as she was on him. In her youth, it was probably having a little girl, a child around, to cheer him up, to remind him of his lost sisters, to protect her like he couldn't protect his loved ones. However, when he got sick, his dependency on her caused a role of reversals, and she ended up becoming his caregiver and protector.

Perhaps this culminated in Theoden failing to think of Eowyn as a member of "that house", because whereas Eomer was a full individual with a role and position removed from Theoden, a scion of their house whose role is to serve their people, Eowyn he saw as not belonging to their house or their people, but belonging to him personally.

The patriarchy customs and attitudes of their society would have supported such a lens, as patriarchies do not accept women fully as people, but as adjuncts to male figures, like fathers and husbands.

An important part of Eowyn's arc is her (and those around her) moving past this attitude, and seeing Eowyn as a fully realised person in herself.

For Faramir to prove himself "worthy" of Eowyn, he basicall had to do a reading of her character, and Tolkien justified their relationship on the grounds her "understood her" very well. Eowyn's happy ending was contingent on her no longer being the extension of a man, which she might have been had she married Aragorn, in whom she saw the king that Theoden was failing to be, and so exchanged one man to judge her worthy by to another.

The hope here is that as a child, Eowyn had as happy a childhood as she could, after losing her mother and father. That the affection between herself and Theoden was then a cause for joy and comfort, and it was only when Theoden grew sick, at the same time she might have started wishing to have a life beyond serving Theoden, that her suffering started.

[uriekukistan]

HI RIN!!!

For the WIP ask: How about 3, 4, 10, 15, and 16? Hope you have a great day!

HIII THANK YOU FOR THE ASK :D sorry for the late reply i've been feeling kinda sick but i fear you've hit the yap button w these....though unfortunately i dont have enough of any of these written to provide a proper snippet my apologies </3 HOPE YOURE DOING WELL !!

3 - WIP I talk about (hasn't started yet)

this is a more recent idea that i just had and talked a bit abt on here i might refine it some before i actually start writing it, but in short i was thinking what if. when yuuji died at the detention center megumi accidentally cursed him? i’ve been thinking of yuuji as a rika-like curse or maybe (probably) something more humanoid but. imagine the GUILT that megumi would feel ooohhhggg it would hurt so bad i need to think more about this  but i have had the idea for a while about itafushi cursing each other at the detention center…..now that i have more time i can actually work on fleshing this out so 

4 - WIP that is secretly rotting my brain & 10 - WIP I started because because of a song

not to combine two asks again i SWEAR its related 

actually i don’t think i’ve ever talked abt this one before…maybe with like one person. and i haven’t started it yet either but it lives in my brain RENT FREE. but its a horror/angst idea inspired by jjk 266 because im EVIL

basically the idea is that in order to reach megumi’s soul, yuuji has to travel Through sukuna’s soul. in doing this, he basically experiences life as sukuna like all the atrocities he committed and cannibalism, some other things. and he’s conscious the whole time but can’t stop anything even he tried because he’s just living sukuna’s memories. ooooh the guilt the sickness the trauma i need to write this idea so bad

the reason i included 10 in this is because i first got the idea when i was listening to “talk” by hozier and the line about the voice that urged orpheus and the choiceless hope in grief. the fic doesnt really align with erm the rest of the song but like the idea of yuuji going through literal Hell to save megumi (like he didnt go through enough already) and the way i saw that in the jjk universe was sukuna’s soul

15 - WIP that is just all my favorite tropes bound together with the power of love

i would say koi no yokan but since i finished editing the last chapter today i feel like that doesnt count as a wip anymore :( 

now i’d say it’s my (unstarted) actor au because it has slow burn elements, historical elements (IM SO EXCITED ABT THIS), secret/forbidden romance…probably lots of meddling (/affectionate) nobara. i havent fully planned it out yet bc i don’t like to have too many active multichapters at once </3 but i love the idea of writing itafushi falling in love twice in parallel stories 🥹

16 - WIP that has an audience of 1 and it is me

is this an appropriate time to talk abt original work……………………………i’ve never talked abt that here before omg

it’s still in its infancy im talking world and characters barely in existence (i’m better at plotting first and building as necessary but idk idk) but this morning i actually came up w a title for it and a vague beginning and ending so i can start building more from there but. 

its a fantasy story set in a fictional kingdom (wow big shocker /s) and the idea that i’ve centered my plot around so far is this doomsday cult. here’s a lil peak into my lore doc (hides faster than the speed of sound) (yes i named the cult before the kingdom what about it)

the story is tentatively named (though i will probably stick with it) "when the sun bleeds red" after the first line of the prophecy. which to me not only refers to the prophecy but the type of imagery i'll be striving for with the more violent scenes kjdgfhfjdh

i'll be running away and hiding myself in a ditch now cant believe i spoke abt my original work publicly

[yellowcry]

Fighting for the new day to come

Somebody tried to attack Encanto! And, protecting her family means Luisa had to do whatever it takes.

TW: Deaths, violence, blood

Luisa sighed, wiping her forehead. What time was it? It's should be an hour or two before her lunch break. Her stomast grupled, imagining a good yammy portion of the food that Mirabel would undoubtedly bring to her.

Her heart jumped at the scream. Old Arthuro yelled at the street, attracting attention. "We're under attack!" Luisa's eye twitched, fists tensed. Okay, don't panic. What was happening? Her blood pumped fast, warming her with adrenaline. "Doña Alma demanded for everyone to get to safety."

Encanto was attacked? By whom? Luisa's chest ached. The cold fingers of dread clipped her shoulder. She could almost feel their invisible weight grabbing her by the throat. Shoking her. She knew Abuelo Pedro died in attack on their village many years ago. Were everyone okay? Oh no,.what if they will be murdered the same way. The fear twisted her stomach, making Luisa gulp to hold back disgusting sickness. Shit, the situation was really bad. Luisa's own heart was pounding way too fast. "Where are they?" Luisa's throat felt way too dry. Her teeth gritted, craking against the pressure. Somewhere, under the panic and fear for the safety of the people, Luisa felt rage bubbling up. Somebody dared to some here, in her hometown and try to destroy it? No fucking chance in the world she would let it slide. 

The old man breathed out, almost relieved at the sight of Luisa. "Good, you're here... Can you.." He took off his sombrero vueltiao, holding it tight. 

Luisa took rapid breath, clenching her fists so tight that her knuckles paled like a moulded cheese. "I will deal with this." She was protector of the family, of the Encanto. It was a titular she wore with a big pride. The promise to ensure everyone's safety. "Where are they?" Luisa let out a low guttural sound. Her muscles tensed so much that a vein popped out, swelling from the iced pressure. 

The fear of what would happen if Luisa didn't  interfere was breaking her bones, twisting her inside out. Tiny drops of the burning sweat ran down her forehead. Her chest felt tight, anxiety wrapped it like a wrong-made corset. She needed to keep everyone safe. It was something she wished to be as long as she could remember herself. Keep everyone safe, protect them. 

Luisa's legs scudded too fast, way beyong anything  of a human ability. Which was probably because of her gift. And also from feeling bottling under her skin. Steaming like a boiled coffee. She heard a bang. It rang in her head with more strenght than an endless list of chores. She felt the smell of fire ripping inside her nose. There were several of them, wearponised. "You think it's blue hideover?" One asked, presumbably so someone who was their commander. At least if Luisa judged by the gold trimming of their suit. More proper than so the others had.

"We had no information about this place on the map. It must be a criminal place."

Luisa narrowed her eyes, gnarring throught her teeth. Did they just accuse Encanto in being a bad place?

She jumped onto the closest person to her, making them yell in surprise as Luisa twisted a muzzle pointed at her. Crashing in under her fingers in just mere seconds before they could even react.

The bullet cut into her skin, ripping the back of her blouse. The injury stinged with a nettle burn. Not too bad, somebody without her gift would have it way worse. But still barely pleasing. The fabric got stuck to her skin with sweat. The closest person to her, the one whos gun she broke was sent to the bright grass. While Luisa slammed his head against the hard ground. Seeing how it was swelling red with the blood.

"What the fuck is this thing?!" Somebody yelled so loud that Luisa's head ached. Luisa heard a numerous gunshots but wasn's sure how many was in total. 

"Stay away from my home!" Luisa growled, rushing into attack again, not paying attention to insults. Her opponent managed to turn to the side  just mere second before Luisa would've launch at him. They pulled out a slasher, scratching her side. It dig deep, drawing the blood out. Luisa twisted the blade on instinct, breaking it in just mere second. Her free fust tried to him the person next to her, who again, jumped back just a moment before it would happen. Not for long because Luisa pushed  herself forward, sending her opponent fly for several metres. Probably cracking several bones in the process. 

Another shot came to her head. "AHH!" Luisa yelled, gripping her head, while a bullet got stuck in her head, cracking her scull. Not even crazy amount of adrenaline she was on could wash away this amount of pain. It popped in her head, rising in agony. 

She grit her teeth. It wasn't  a proper time to cry about pain. Luisa rose up, just slightly trembling. At least of before the attackers looked afraid, now they were outrage terrified. Some part of Luisa's mind that wasn't  busy with the fight could understand it. Most people probably wouldn't be alive after getting shot in their head. 

"This isn't a human!" One of two yelled, trying to shot her again. Just for Luisa to fling to the side, only allowing it to sligtly scratch her cheek. Unpleasant, but nothing  compared to the shot that blew her brains up. Luisa let out a low breathe, annoyed.

Another hit, Luisa ran with a wind speed. Not thinking about anything  else. That one was blocked with a gun. The metal cracked from her strengt. But Luisa's fingers twisted, now drawing with blood. The same gun hit her shoulder. Probably  leaving some bruise with the cold metal. At the same time it got snapped in two, killed to the end. While Luisa's another hit got blocked again. Unluckely for them with their arms this time.  They uelled in horror as the bones snapped, breaking against Luisa's strength. Not for long until the strenght of the hit pushed them down. Luisa stepped on them, cracking their ribcage.

She had washed the last one of them down the horse they tried to climb on, ripping the fabric of their clothes in the process. Most likely to get away. Not for long. Luisa pulled them of, squeezing their neck so tight it cracked. 

Luisa looked around, panting through wide open mouth. She pressed her palms against her knees. Trying to see if there still was any danger. It seemed safe. Good. Luisa grinned in relief. It was over, everyone was safe for now. She just needed to get home and break the news to Abuela. That’s, of course, if Dolores hadn’t told them already.

Luisa wasn’t sure how she got to Casita. Now, as immediate danger had stopped beimg a threat, adrenaline stopped running so much inside her body. And when the hormone stopped controlling her body, pain that was drowned in the sea before crawled over, rising all over. And, hell, it hurt. Luisa’s blouse was soaked with blood, her back was getting red. The trickles of thick blood ran down the muscles of her arms and clung to her brown hair, which now were wet. The agonising pain jumped inside her head, making her feel like her brains were smeared out of her scull. Yes, her head was definitely the one that was killing Luisa the most. More so compared to the rest of her body combined. Unable to feel or think about anything else. The blood drawned out of the injuries. Luisa felt like she was a balloon about to pop out.

Luisa groaned, trying to keep her eyes shut tight. Light outline of pain was left inside her. Not hurting too much, but reminding she was not so long ago. What happened?Her head was foggy, but memories were crawling outside. A fight, yes. Luisa’s brething shortened as she practically jumped into sitting position. Were everyone okay? What if somebody else was hurt?

“Luisa, mija!” Her Mama placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re awake, how do you feel?”

Luisa stared up at Julieta, looking around the calm blue tones of the room. Her parents’ room. “I’m okay, was anyone else injured?” She asked, ready to get up if anything was wrong.

The healer shook her head, petting Luisa. “Everyone is safe.” Luisa brethed out in relief, allowing herself to relax against the fluffy bed once again. “Do you want to rest? I can call your sisters if you want to.”

“Yes, please,” Luisa would love to see them and know they’re okay. She could probably just go herself. She wasn’t in any discomfort after being healed. But there was something cozy and home-sweet in laying in her Mama’s room like this. It’s been a while since Luisa was resting like this. She remembered being a little girl and curling between her parents after a nightmare. It’s been a long time since then. The probably wouldn’t even fit in the bed together.

It didn’t take long. Mirabel had clung to her in the moment she saw Luisa. “Lu, how are you? I was so worried.” The teelager felt Luisa’s back, making sure no damage was left untreated. Even is Mama’s food would’ve made it impossible for Luisa to still be hurt.

“Better than ever!” Luisa smiled at her to assure her little sister. Ruffling her curly hair before scoop into a hug. Heavens, she was so glad everyone was okay.

Isabela sad to the bed next to them. “Dolly is such a bitch!” The eldest sister chuckled, ignoring Mirabel’s demand to use proper language.

Luisa blinked, rasing her eyebrows. “What have she done?” Tilting her her head, and hugging Mirabel even tighter.

The youngest girl muttered, choking on her words. Okay, maybe Luisa held her just a bit too strong. “She tied us and Camilo to chairs. Said it was ‘so we wouldn’t get ourselves killed’.”

“Yes! Can you imagine?” Isabela made a theatric gasp, pressing her hand against her forehead. “I’ve lost my chance to be abadass in a very cool fight!”

Luisa couldn’t help but laugh at her sister being a drama queen, she couldn’t be surprised in the slightest at Dolores’ actions. Isabela wouldn’t miss a chance to throw fists, Camilo would treat it like some performance, and Mirabel… Well, Casita’s fall spoke for itself. Mirabel sniskered too, but hid it with fixing her glasses. Here Isabela herself was giggling. 

“But, if serious,” Her tone became more serious. She placed her hand on Luisa’s shoulder, sitting closer to her. “Are you okay? You were in am awful state earlier.”

Luisa’s eyes glimmered at the care. She could imagine, concindering how she didn’t even remember getting to Casita. “It really wasn’t that bad.” She assured Isabela. “It’s really only my head that caused problems.” She knew she had to thank her gift for this. Anyone else would’ve been dead on her place. Nothing else wasn’t coming beyond a simple discomfprt that a nornal person would get from a scratch. But all the other injuries probably weren’t making her family happy by looking at them.

Isabela and Mirabel seemed relieved by this. Luisa chuchkled, pulling her older sister on a hug with her free arm too (that’s why she has two arms). Everything was okay…And Luisa felt calmness spreading throught her body. She handled it well, her family was safe. And she couldn’t ask for more.

Luisa had to admit she felt strange about what she had done. Killing. The word tasted bitter on her tongue. She could never imagine she would have to do something like this. But did she regret it? Not in the slightest. These awful people would do the same thing to her family if Luisa didn’t stop them. She was protector, and everyone knew it. And she would do whatever it takes for everyone to sleep safe and sound. Sometimes she had to do things that were consindered bad to be on the good side.

“You’re better to prepare for Abuela’s teaching you about self-preservation!” Mirabel smiled weakly, but still was looking closely in case of Luisa’s possible harm. The stronger sister gulped. She remembered this with Mirabel. Damn, she would meet a long lecture of how worried she had made everyone by risking her life(which she actually hadn’t done!) and putting herself on danger.

“I’m terrified now.”

[cocoartistwrites]

sooooo my dad is a white man and my mom is an asian. they have 11 years age gap. recently i found out that my dad purposely go my mom’s country to find a wife and he was practically grooming her bcs he met her when she was 17 and married her when she turned 19. ntm she came from a poor family and an orphan.

throughout my life i never asked my parents about how they met because i was a very tomboy girl who doesn’t like romance thing. now that im older and somehow my fyp has this asian woman-white man discourse that will not go away.

realizing this make me feel sick tbh. i wanna hate my dad but at the same time he treated her so well and she loves him. i think he loves her more because she is so spoiled by him. i used to look at them and think that they are couple goals. but now i have this mixed sickening feeling.

i can’t talk to my dad about this but i’m harboring this resentment towards him. and i find myself hugging my mom more and crying. she has a very good life here. i know and i’m aware we have so many privileges. my mom did get her bachelor’s degree and got a job here.

my mom is so kind, so so so so smart, so beautiful and clever and absolutely the best person in the world. sometimes i wonder if she never got married young what would happen to her? i know she will be the coolest and most compassionate woman. i know she will have amazing career like marine biologist or something awesome.

i have the urge to protect her even though my dad is not threatening and kind actually. but i resent him for taking away her youth.

i just don’t know how to behave when he’s around. he noticed i’m getting distant but i said it’s because of homeworks. help pls

This is a really tough one isn’t it. I don’t think you can be angry at your mum’s imagined lost future, firstly. She was young but she made a choice that she has chosen to stick with all her life, she went to university, she got a job, she found her own way out of poverty, she had you - she’s happy. Yes she was very young, but also it seems like this has worked for them. If she hadn’t married him she might have actually been worse off. Sure she might have done something cooler but did she want to? If she was living in poverty and an orphan I am sure her youth and childhood was taken from her very early. She would probably have been forced to grow up very young.

I think you really need to talk to her about it. You’re angry at shadows and based on current internet discourse and not on real people and you’re not being fair to your mum because you’re deciding how to feel for her, as if she somehow can’t make her own decisions.

As for your dad: one of the tough bits about growing up is that we have to learn to accept our parents as humans. The way you’ve presented what he did is uncomfortable. You haven’t spoken to him about it and you’re holding it up against a 2023 conversation so I don’t know what exactly happened between them. 11 years is a lot. I think you need to talk to your mum, really listen to her, then at some point talk to your dad. But not like presenting him with a load of internet discourse. Listen to him and see him in his own context and story and as a person.

I used to fight with my dad based on online discourse about feminism etc and it was incredibly freeing to realise that he doesn’t have to keep up with that, that he’s lived most of his life and lived it as a good and kind man and if he’s not perfect that’s fine. I love him so much and I’m so sad I had those fights with him because they weren’t fair and they were coming from my own anxieties and anger about the world. I don’t want you to do that because I think you’ll regret it. I know you probably have a burning sense of injustice but you need to think about whether that’s more important than your family being happy together.

When people say families are tough this is what they mean. But I do really urge you not to judge your parents too quickly. Your dad loves you very much, what good will it do to be angry about something you don’t really know anything about? You’re just going to hurt him and probably put your mum in the middle and hurt her too. But don’t bury this anxiety either! Talk to your mum. Just be really honest with her that you worry about white men and Asian women and their story sounded like maybe she’d got married too young and will she tell you more about it. Get to know her as a friend as well as a mother as you get older.

Sending you lots of love.

[boogiewuu]

Fortune's drop

This is a part of the backstory of one of my obey me oc, Desdemona, an angel with cursed eyes who soon will completely change her life.

Tw: mentioning of blood, gore, dead people

Please, remember that this is an Original Character's backstory, nothing here is canon.

I'm sorry for the grammar errors you might find but English isn't my first language.

You can find the complete cover post drawing here if you want to check out some drawings about it

«remember this...»

Why there are so many voices? What's happening out there?... I can feel the floor trembling under my feet... the cold wind crashing on me behind my back like an upcoming storm, this the first time I could feel this here in the Celestial Realms.

«...for any reason...»

My lungs are taking less oxygen by the time... Why my hands are shaking so much? The pressure on my body is pushing me down.

«...you must tell...»

Am I sick? Am I about to die? Is this the moment when your life is taken away from your own body?

«...that you're blind.»

.

.

.

For all my life, I was forced to wear a mask, or a "crown of vision" like my father said to me the first time I had to put it on. No light could go through the thin and metallic layer of that angelic artefact. Why do I wear this? Father said so... And he explicitly said I can't take it off, under any circumstances, my eyes must be hidden from the world. I don't know why... Back then, I was too little to understand the horrible faith my life was twisted on. I don't even know how I look, or how my family look because for it. I just know I have a very long hair because Mother loves to comb them for me, probably she even made me some strange yet angelic hairstyle multiple times without even got the chance to see that.

I hate this.

I hate all of this.

For all this lie, I can't have many friends. I met some angels who were kind to me and tried to make me more comfortable with my condition... but I always felt horrible, useless... I wasn't complete. How can I have friends if I can't even know how they look like? I can't see, so I can't fly like all the angels do or swim... How frustrating is it. I could hear their wings flapping in the sky while playing... And I was there on the ground, in silence. I was living a loop... From the minute I was awake to the moment I was asleep, because all the angels had one particular job... But what job could have a blind angel of fortune when there is another one who was actually able to see? When I tried to talk about it to Mother and Father, they said I shouldn't care about it... They could be my friends... I had already my twin who I can play with.

I'm feeling like another bird on a cage.

One day, something different happened, a break in the loop. There was too many strange sounds in the distance, so I tried to reach the source of it but, out of nowhere, an hand grab mine firmly and pull me on the opposite of my direction. «Follow me!! I got you!! Don't take off your mask!!�� the person kept yelling... It was my brother's voice. I couldn't stand behind his steps... We both started to running but he should be my eyes for see the safer path, but he was just... Scared... So his priority was survive, running as fast as possible...but I kept falling on the ground. I could sense the angelic aura of my brother growing... He's been trying to use the magic to protect us but seems like both my fortune and his aren't helping like it should be...

Interesting.

I didn't knew emotions like this could ever exist... The nerves running down your spine... The drops of sweat mixing with the dust painting your hot face... And the new sounds were something else too. I kept heard many times breaking sounds of all the type you could even imagine... I believe there were even the cuts of visceral material too. I could smell something burning like meat and wood. I could heard screams but they weren't joyful and the heavy breathing of many people... The splitting sound of some liquid crashing on some surfaces and the finals drops. Something surely was happening. All of this was new to me...

And my curiosity kept me hunger for new sensations.

But my brother doesn't want me to go where the sounds come from... I wonder why?

Aren't these sounds amazing? Why my brother wanted me to cover my ears and pretend I didn't heard a thing? They are so different from the usual stuff...

...why my brother was acting like Father? Why I can't see? And why I'm the only one who has the eyes covered? That's not fair at all!!

My head was spinning... I think I was still running, but all these questions about the forbidden stuff was taking control over my thoughts...my lungs were killing me and I could hear my heartbeat speeding up, I could feel it in my chest. I hit something with my feet and I felt faceplate on the ground... I searched the warm hand of Madoc, calling him back... But there was no response. I didn't have enough strength for get myself up, so I stand there like I was sleeping. My skin could feel the soft leaves landing on the floor and the wind come back running through my hair.

I was outside? I could hear them, the angels screaming and the clicking of the metallic weapons... And I was there, landing on the grass, with a weak body, vulnerable.

After some time, I took back my stamina and managed to stand up on my bare feet, waving my arms around to feel the nearest obstacles but I was in an empty zone... But where? I felt a warm liquid falling on my face, wetting my skin. What is it? I touched the tear with the index and put it under the nose... It doesn't have a smell. I tried to put it on the top of the tongue... It tasted sweet yet nothing came up to my knowledge. I tried to follow the trace with the fingers and there it is. A burning pain on the skin on my forehead but my fingers where full of that sweet liquid. My finger was barely touching a cut who seems incredibly huge... My face was half covered with it...

Blood.

Oh dear Lord... My tongue tasted my own blood? Angels shouldn't even touch or see the blood, and look at what I did!! Oh, if Father would've see me, I was easily grounded for the rest of my immortal life!!

Wait... My Father isn't here, no one is here except me. I was lost and alone, if everyone was running then there's must be a danger near us... I need to run...

I need to see.

My hands shakily took the corner of the metallic mask... My heart pounding on and on. My first time see the world where I lived until now...

I have to... Or I won't be able to survive

The mask went slowly separated from the bandages over my eyes and drop it on the ground making a little jingle with the pebbles behind the leaves. I'll finally be able to see everybody...

I started to unwrapped the many layers of the dirty bandages, full of dust, blood and sweat.

That's it. Now, the only thing between the world and my eyes were the eyelids. Nothing more, nothing less.

.

.

.

The bright light of the sun blinded me for a second. My eyes were never need exposed my the light like this... I had a hard time to make them get used to, but was worth it. The world was beautiful... All the colours I only could learn weren't just words!! Ohhh I'm dreaming!! The sky was full of dark clouds, making less light going through, white feathers were falling like snow and cover all the ground around me. I looked at my hands with my own blood stained on, painting my caramel skin with a dark red.

So this is the world I've been living on for thousands of years!! Why everybody tried to hide this from me??

I heard again that melodic screams on the distance... I ended up searching with my eyes. Look up. In that gray sky there were other angels with their golden bright armor and their weapon on their hands.

They were covered with red, their armor, their weapon, their skins... Even those beautiful white feathers on the wings had blood stinks.

Angels don't attack or hurt other creatures... But that blood surely wasn't their.

I was petrified... The world was always like this? That would explain why Father and my brother tried to keep me away though.

The Angels were up to me, they took a big opening of the wings and then down, targeting me with a surreal velocity, I couldn't move... My eyes were locked on them.

They seems so determined...

I'm about to die, aren't I?

The world become soundless. The spears of the two angels were one feet close to me, yet the world seems so slow... I wonder why.

The Angels were looking at me, directly in my eyes... They had an peculiar expression, a mix of surprise and pain, yet they were looking be enchanted by the meeting of our eyes.

My lungs were running off oxygen, it was hard to breathe, blood were running down their nose, then their mouth... but that gaze weren't going away. I could feel a shock down my spine, my hands shaking again and my facial muscles reacts, I couldn't help but softly smiles and that view. They were petrified like statues, their pupils disappeared, trembling under the layer of tears. I could heard the crackling sound of their jaws opened willing to screaming until their vocal cords would be tore apart.

That twisted expression... I never knew a creature could have such an expressive face. The time looked frozen but I knew this was just my perspective... Their body hardly avoided me, crashing on the floor with enough force to destroy the splendid grass near us. They painted the ground with a scarlet red and that wet breaking sounds again... But in a combo. They turned red and purple... But I couldn't help but notice the broken bones coming out the skin like spines...weird. They looked in pain... But right now, their body was twisted like an origami.

They're no longer alive, that's for sure.

The noises, the screams... That chaos never stopped in the distance. They were full of rage and fear, I could feel the fear in those... But they were full of life and colours too,and that was new.

A twisted way to show everybody that they were alive, and God only knows they will fight for that life with teeth and claws.

Those voices, oh I recognize those voices... My friends were living this moment against everybody else. They were fighting not only to survive... But to live too. To be free. Free like me.

I wasn't alone to feel this way, huh?i my gray sky... I couldn't fly so I had to help on the other half... but the curiosity and the fun was taking me over. Those angels understand my will... They'll having so much fun

I must join... I will join.

.

.

.

I kept repeating me those words... I was covered in all the shades or red the blood could take, I wasn't trained for battle so of course I couldn't survive without having several cuts. My spear was severely damaged by all the angels' bones I destroyed, my clothes were all ruined too, if I knew angelic clothes were this uncomfortable for fighting, I would change it many years ago. Angels couldn't recognize me, but one look and I'll found them dead on the ground like they've been in overdose.

So, the curse on my eyes was really this bad? A common folk you would stare at them for too long, they died in a pot of blood?

I was taking deep breaths, while my hand was covering a bloody cut on my shoulder, I was controlling around me and then I saw that scene...

Two angels, flying towards themselves... The bigger angel had ginger and short hair while the smallest had blue hair with some white hair on the bottom of them. The ginger one was flying holding the blue one, but the other angels was standing an hand on the back of the big one. When I looked on the same direction on the angel's hand, I noticed something else. It was a girl, flying near them... But the second I was watching, that same girl was hitting in the back, falling on the void like a dead bird.

And I was there... Watching in silence that scene.

She wasn't even fighting... And yet, she was hit by this war, and that same girl was falling into the void like she deserves it. How many angels had the same faith of that girl?

I couldn't move a single muscle... What a bad timing to stay there and think.

An enemy took me from behind, I woke up form the shocked and we ended up fighting. He had a Dagger and I had my cursed eyes. I got stabbed many times, but I managed to block his head with my hands and forced it to watch my eyes. Soon enough, he was screaming and vomit blood, but loosing the balance was a fatal act.

His body pressed me down, until we both fall from the edge of the clouds. My face turned pale as we were falling... I took off of me that body and tried to use my wings to reach the surface, but nothing was worth it. More we were going down, more speed we acquired... It was an endless fall, the air was burning my lungs. I couldn't breathe, the pressure was crashing me... My wings couldn't take this. An excruciating pain was hitting my back!! My wings!! I could feel them unravelling my skin... I couldn't hear anything, not even my screams and my cries. I could feel my skin burning, my halo were melting on my face.

All of this couldn't happen If I didn't took off my mask... I shouldn't been fight with those angels, it wasn't non of my business. My friends... Are they dead? I didn't hear them anymore... And I'm going to do the same.

Did I deserve it?

.

.

.

I lost consciousness for who knows how much days or years, I was rotting in the deepest seabed. I didn't know how I was alive or where am I... But something was telling me "someone had other plans for me." Something grabbed my arm and pulled me up, reaching the surface. When I was feeling the ground again, I put my face on the ground, starting to coughing, let the water free my lungs. «where am I?» the only thing I could say. An unfamiliar voices started to talk to me «you're in the Devildom, the reign of demons. You're lucky to be alive.» says the voice. It was a deep male voice, one of that voices you can hear trembling inside you, and I doubt it was an angel...

«Are you... going to kill me?» I asked, trembling, making the demon laughed «I can... but why should I do that?» he asked, but I couldn't reply «what's your name, fallen angel» «...I have no longer a name...» I reply, I know my name... But why should I keep using that name? «...then, how the others angel used to call you?» «The Fortune's pearl... I used to bring good luck» I whispered with a low profile «looks like your luck didn't make it... you looks more of a misfortune demon» commented the demon, I felt a touch on the back «what happened to your wings and your eyes?» asked in a low voice, I let out a single gasp «I... lost my wings during the fall. And for your safety, I need to cover my eyes.» the demon didn't reply, but I felt a strip of cloth on my face, that startle me for a moment, but as soon as I felt my eyes been covered, I slowly high my head towards the demon and thank him «...You're a demon now, you're under my responsibility. Come with me so we can heal you from your wounds» says the demon «for now on, you'll be Desdemona... the misfortune's pearl.» a little giggle escaped from my mouth, a little tear goes on my cheeks, I'm finally worth it for a job

«seems like you really have plans for me...»

[blipblooopp]

Let It Be Me

Summary: Choi San is many things. The most talented man you have ever seen. Be it on the dance floor or in front of a mic during a gig. He was the kindest person, always holding the door for the people behind him, helping the elderly carry things, even paying for strangers randomly. He got along famously with your parents and even better with your grandparents. He was charming like that, capturing the attention of anyone and everyone who even looked his way. He’s the love of your life, you’re sure of it but he’s also your best friend. Pairing: Boy Band AU!Choi San x F!Reader Words: 5.6k Genre: Angst/Smut

You’ve heard of a thing called platonic soulmates but it’s taken you years and years of watching Choi San grow to realize you weren’t. Well, you hoped you weren’t. Everything about him made your body erupt into a fire.

San looked at everything with adoration, finding all the good in life, including you. It was a double-edged sword, really. It made you feel special… important. But you could barely concentrate when his eyes were on you.

It didn’t help that he was gifted in pretty much everything; it made you nervous beyond belief. He’s pretty much perfect and as much as you wanted to be with him, you knew the odds of him liking you back were slim to none.

You’ve come to terms with it for the most part. It hurt to see him flirt with girls in front of you, hurt even worse when he started dating this awful girl named Areum. She didn’t give a fuck about him, actually. She barely responded to his calls and texts, going as far as blocking him one time. They fought nonstop. Every time you two hung out, San had a new dilemma to talk about. For some reason, San wouldn’t break up with her.

You had asked him after a night of you two getting drunk together, after another night of listening to his relationship problems. He laughed dryly, taking another sip of his beer, “I love her so much.”

Apparently, it was his “slow-motion” moment. He and his band had been wrapping up the night with their last song, soaking up every second they could have. Halfway through the song, San had noticed Areum in the front row. You were there too so you noticed the look on his face. A look you had never seen him make before. It basically tore your heart out when he told you that he couldn’t get “that beautiful girl” out of his head. She ended up becoming a dedicated face in the crowd so San asked her out.

You would’ve thought they were soulmates from the way they looked in the beginning. Lord only knows how they got to this point. How you got to this point, with San crying in your lap.

It was 10:00 pm when someone started banging on your door. You were enjoying a cup of coffee but you almost had a heart attack at that moment. You opened the door with shaking hands, hoping that whatever killer was on the side wasn’t actually a killer. Instead, you saw your best friend, with swollen red eyes, sniffling.

“Oh my god, San! You scared— what’s wrong?” You immediately dragged him in, locking the door behind you. He sniffled again as he slumped into your couch. You took a seat next to him and took his hand in yours. “Was it another fight?” You knew it wasn’t. In all the fights you had heard, San never cried.

“She was cheating on me… this whole time.” He hiccuped as he talked.

“That bitch.” You said under your breath. You held onto his hand a little tighter, trying to contain your anger.

“I went to her house tonight because she wasn’t responding to me again. I wanted to talk it out with her but she opened her front door in her underwear with some motherfucker sitting on her couch!” Although you had many words to say with Areum, you were speechless in front of San. What were you supposed to say? All you could do was scoot back on the couch and guide San's head onto a pillow in your lap.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You ran your fingers through his hair, “You can cry for as long as you want.”

And cry he did.

____

The next morning was hard. You woke up on your couch sitting up-right with a terrible case of stiff-neck. That’s not the only reason it was hard. No, it was worse seeing San still laying on your lap. He was wide-awake, dark eye bags contrasting against his face. His eyes stared deep into the ceiling.

“What’re you thinking about, Sannie?” You started to run your fingers through his hair again and watched as his eyes fluttered shut, his body instantly relaxing.

His eyes opened again, “Why didn’t she love me?” You couldn’t respond, not that he let you. “I knew we weren’t perfect, knew she wasn’t perfect… but we always made it through the end of the day. I can’t believe she would do this to me.”

“It’s her loss.” You finally said. “You don’t need her anyway. It was her decision to cheat and you had nothing to do with it.”

San didn’t say anything after that, just continued to stare at your ceiling.

___

The first few weeks were the hardest for sure. San had spent most of them at your place, barely leaving even for band practice. When he did practice with the guys he would leave early, only strumming a few chords on his guitar before deciding that it reminded him too much of Areum.

“He’s been really out of it.” Yunho, the bassist commented one time. San hadn’t even played that day. He just sat in the corner for an hour. You stayed behind for a few minutes and told San to wait in the car. You wanted to catch up with the other band members.

“Can you blame him? That bitch was… well, a bitch.” Wooyoung shot back, setting his drum sticks down.

“How has he been holding up?” Hongjoong asked.

You scoffed, “Have you seen the man? I don’t even think San’s there anymore! God, if I see her, it’s on sight!”

You did your best to help him through those weeks. You had been through a few hard breakups in the past so you understood that the early stages were the worst. You even used up all of your sick time to stay home with him. You had never seen him this gloomy. At one point, he went through five pints of ice cream in three days.

____

It took three months for San to be even remotely okay. He started going to practice more and this time, he actually played. You couldn't say you were surprised. San loved playing with the band and you knew it was probably the only thing that would bring him out of his funk.

"You look good, man!" Hongjoong slapped his hand on San's back playfully and for the first time in months, San had his usual dimpled smile.

"I feel good." He replied, setting down his guitar and taking a seat next to you on the beat-up couch. "It's thanks to you, y/n"

Your eyes widened. "Me?"

He nodded. "You stayed up with me, didn't go to work, even made me breakfast when you knew I didn't have the energy to get off your couch."

You couldn't lie; your heart was racing. All you could do was stare back into his eyes with a goofy smile painted on your face. San put his hand on your thigh, skinship being normal between you two, especially within these past months.

Your friendship remained just that, a friendship, for the next month. You were okay with this, though. At least you had a small sliver of hope now that he was single. That tiny bit of hope that he'd love you back was able to tide you over.

Until one night.

San had come over for your weekly movie nights, an event you had been doing since high school but stopped doing because his ex got jealous easily. You tried calming your nerves as you sat next to each other, his arm wrapped around you.

You were so close you could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating. Maybe it was the fact that he was newly single now, filling up your thoughts even more recently, but his entire presence was overwhelming tonight.

“You alright, beautiful?” Since San was single now, his usual playful flirty side was coming out again. Just like everything else about him, you had a love-hate relationship with it. It doesn't mean anything. You had to remind yourself. He talked like this with everyone, especially when he wanted to get a rise out of his bandmates.

You gulped when you looked up at him. How could a man have this effect on you? You would think that after years of unrequited love, you'd be able to at least contain yourself. “Yeah.”

San gave you a dimpled smile, shifting his gaze to a piece of your hair, moving it behind your ear. Your mouth parts, probably to say something but you can't be too sure right now. If someone walked in, they would think you guys are about to kiss. Maybe you are... you want to kiss him.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you slowly lean forward, keeping your eyes on his lips. They look too good not to look at but you're also scared of seeing the look in his eyes, the potential disgust that might be taking over at the thought of your lips touching his.

Everything is moving in slow motion. From your hand caressing his cheek to the moment your lips make contact. He's stiff against you and you can only imagine that it's because he's uncomfortable. You start to pull away, dreading the awkward conversation you're about to have but San is quick. His hand grips your thigh and he's kissing you back with fervor.

Your head is spinning, Is this really happening? These sparks you're feeling all over your body, does he feel the same way? You push away any thoughts you're having, trying to focus on keeping up with San. You needed to enjoy this moment. Without realizing it, you swing your leg and straddle San's lap. He groans underneath you but before you can question it, he's giving you a reassuring squeeze on your waist.

You don't want to take the initiative of going further, but man, your hands are burning to touch his bare skin. Your hands, instead, rest on his shoulders, gripping and releasing every few seconds. As if he was reading your mind, San's hands move to the hem of your shirt and for the first time, you break the kiss.

The second your shirt passes your head, San's moving to kiss your neck, occasionally sucking to leave hickies that are sure to last a whole week. You're breathless, taking this as a sign to take off San's shirt. Your hands are all over each other, San's going from your cheek to unbuttoning your jeans, your fingers feeling his abs contract under your touch.

It feels like a flash. San suddenly laying you down on your bed, both of your clothes littered behind you on the floor, his lips still on your neck. It's only when he's about to insert himself does he stop and look at you with dark eyes. He doesn't give you enough time to question it, pushing himself inside you. You both gasp at the feeling.

"Fuck, you're so tight!" He grips your hip with one hand, the other holding the headboard like his life depends on it. He feels like he'll burst any second.

You're right there with him though, the mere feelings of this moment making you sensitive. "You're just big. Holy shit!"

It takes him a second, taking a moment to give both of you a moment to adjust before he moves inside you. You can't contain the sounds coming out of you as he hits all the right spots with ease. You couldn't have pegged San to have this big of a dick, yet here he was.

Before you can realize it, your hands are finding purchase on his back and your nails are sinking into his skin. He hisses above you but his thrusts get harsher and the moaning in your ear doesn't get any quieter.

"You feel so good... so warm and tight for me." He's practically whimpering into your neck. You try to keep your cool, trying not to cum so fast but he's hitting that spot inside you with ease.

Your nails dig into him deeper, "S-san," You stutter out. "Close... so close."

"I know... but you gotta wait for me. Can you do that?" His thrusts get faster and deeper, you don't even comprehend his words properly.

"Can you do that for me, pretty girl? Be a good girl for me?" He's using both hands to clench onto the headboard now, the force making it harder to not cum. You just nod and wrap your legs around his waist. San is drilling into you with so much force and he's hoping that the bed isn't going to break. After a few more thrusts, he starts to get sloppy, and your vision's crossing.

"Alright, beautiful. Cum for me." He grunts out, trying not to cum at the feeling of you clenching around him. You finally let the waves of pleasure course through you, seeing stars. If you were lucid, you most definitely would have been embarrassed by the noises coming out of your mouth and your pussy.

With a loud sigh, San pulls out of you and releases onto your stomach. Almost immediately, he’s up and cleaning you, you’re body’s too tired to do anything but lay there. You’re surprised, because instead of leaving, San lays next to you, even going as far as pulling you close to him.

You have so much on your mind but you're too tired now.

____

This goes on for weeks. Sometimes you would hang out. Sometimes do other things. Everything happened so fast. The friendship that you held so dear had become a muddled mess of lust and confusion. You obviously still had feelings for San but you had no idea where he stood.

You'd never even talked about the first time you guys had sex. When you woke up he was gone and when you saw each other again, he acted like nothing had happened. You didn't want to be that clingy girl who expected a relationship so you never brought it up. Now you're in this endless cycle of sleeping with each other and never addressing the elephant in the room.

What didn't help was how San was acting differently. He was much more touchy with you, always having to touch you in some way whenever you were together. His hand on your thigh, holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, he did it all. Before the incident, you would have considered him touchy but that's nothing compared to him now.

Your hangouts started to become more elaborate as well. You guys were actually going out to movies instead of watching Netflix at your house. Small coffee shop hangouts started becoming intimate dinners. It was like you guys were dating. These dates gave you hope that he would eventually open up and ask you out properly but you didn't want to force it out of him. So, you just decided to go with whatever he wanted.

"Let's go ice-skating." The handsome man suggested his left-hand steering and his right hand on your thigh.

"You know I can't ice-skate." You deadpan, getting distracted by your fingers playing with his.

He glances at you with a honey-sweet smile before bringing his eyes back to the road. "I can teach you, ya know."

"Please, you just want to see me fall so you can laugh at me."

"That too."

San taught you how to ice-skate for maybe ten minutes. After that, he decided that it would be best to let you learn through trial and error.

"San, I'm literally gonna fall on my face!" You cried, your legs shaking as you attempted to walk on the ice.

"You're doing great. Just try skating to me." He held out his hand for you. Every time you got even remotely close to him, however, he would slowly start backing up. You were struggling around the rink but he made sure to sprinkle in encouragements so you wouldn't be too mad at him.

Just when you thought you were doing good, you got too cocky and propelled yourself towards San, wanting so desperately to close that gap. Your feet weren't pointed straight enough causing your left skate to hit your right, tripping you onto the ice.

"Holy shit, y/n! Are you alright?" San appears in front of you with seconds. Helping you up with ease. Your knees ache and you could feel the bruise forming on your hip.

“Did you not see me eat shit?” You bark out, now gripping his arm for dead life.

“I did but it’s always polite to ask.” You slap his arm playfully as he guides you off the ice and onto the benches. “Are you actually okay?”

You shook your head and pouted like a child. San chuckled to himself, seeing right through you. Instead of saying anything, he pecked your lips innocently and took a seat next to you. It was the first time he’s kissed you in public which only confused you further. Is he doing this on purpose? You really had to ask him.

You’re too lost in your thoughts to see San staring at you. It’s not until he’s moving a piece of hair out of your face that you’re snapped out of your thoughts. You jolt slightly and hum at him in response. He just shakes his head and returns his gaze to the people skating.

It was your turn to stare at him, to memorize his features for the nth time. He’s just as beautiful as he was two seconds ago and the butterflies are still strong. You open your mouth to question him about your relationship, finally building up the courage just when…—

“San? Is that you?” You freeze. Her, you think. That manipulative bitch.

“Areum?” San stands as if he’s been caught doing something bad like a child. She offers him a warm smile, completely disregarding you as always. You feel like you did during the concert. His eyes are no longer on you… but trained on her. You feel that distance he created on the ice growing bigger and bigger.

“What’re you doing here?” The man asks, still shocked to see her.

“Ah, I was just walking around.” The nerve of this girl to act like she didn’t do anything wrong. “What’re you doing here?” Her eyes land on you but she quickly looks back at him.

You stand this time. “We’re…” Don’t say it. Don’t be petty. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “On a date.” You entwine your arm with San’s.

Areum’s lip twitches in annoyance. “Oh?” She quirks a brow and glances at San. “Is this true?”

San freaks out without thinking and shakes his arm from yours. “No!— I mean like a friendly date, sure. We’re just hanging out like old times.”

There’s your answer.

His ex smiles with victory at your defeated state. “Well, we should catch up, San. I know we ended things on a bad note but I think we should talk.”

The car ride home was awfully silent. Usually, they were filled with laughter and off-key singing but tonight, you gave San short answers in his poor attempt to talk. When you entered your apartment, you told him you were going to bed early and that he should lock up when he leaves.

Instead, you feel his warm body climb into your bed and hold you at 12 am. As always, you didn’t tell him to leave. Because, as always, you couldn’t say no to Choi San.

____

You wake up and San's not next to you but there is a text.

San : Sorry I didn't want to wake you but I left to go to practice. It'll probably end late today so if you feel up to it, come hang out. :)

Should you? Maybe it's just better if you pretend like nothing happened. Obviously, that's what he's doing. Besides, it’s not like his bandmates gave you false hope just to reject you in front of their ex. You end up going to the practice, a huge lump in your throat. If you brought up the situation, you're sure that whatever you guys had would be over the second you said anything.

Jongho, the lead singer, greets you with a smile and a nod in your direction as he warms up.

"y/n!" Wooyoung calls out, getting off of his drum stool and engulfing you in a hug.

You giggle on command, loving his enthusiasm. “Wooyoung, why do you always act like we haven’t seen each other for years!”

He smiles and whispers, “Don’t tell the guys I told you, but you’re like… our muse!”

You roll your eyes and pull away from his chest just to look at him, “I think you’re the only one crazy enough to even consider that.”

Wooyoung lets you go completely and returns to his drum set, you follow suit. “Maybe but you’ve been our number one supporter since day one! Plus you’re beautiful and beauty inspires art, does it not?”

Laughter erupts from you again at his cheesiness and your feel an arm wrap around your shoulder. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, the signature cologne giving him away.

“What’s so funny?” San’s smiling but you can tell there’s something different in his tone.

“Just exposing how important y/n is to the band.” Wooyoung sends you a playful wink, your cheeks burning slightly. San forces a laugh, something you don’t notice, before sitting you down on the couch.

After practice was over, you waited outside of the room for San so you could go back to your place. That wasn't the original plan but San insisted. The chilly air made you wrap your arms around yourself, internally scolding yourself over not bringing a jacket.

Wooyoung was the first to come out, fishing his lighter out of his pocket. He wasn't the only cigarette smoker in the group but he was definitely the one that smoked the most. He grinned at the sight of you, resting his hand in his pocket instead.

"Why're you waiting out here? It's cold as hell."

"Yeah... But I didn't want to get in your guys' way." You rubbed your hands up and down your arms trying to create heat. Wooyoung took off his jacket and wrapped it around you without hesitation. "A true gentleman." You remarked.

He put his hand on his chest, his face contorting to look hurt. "I've always been a gentleman. Even when I'm freezing my ass off."

Your eyes widened, ready to give the jacket back. "Woah there, missy. I gave it to you for a reason. We don't want our muse to die of hypothermia." The joke makes you laugh lightly. "You waiting on San?"

You nod, staring at the ground and rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “It’s been a lot of waiting recently.” You accidentally confess.

“Uh oh.” He leans against the wall. "I noticed something was different."

"What do you mean?" You hear your heartbeat through your ears and you find it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

"You guys are a lot closer... You guys are best friends, sure, but the air's been different between you two. He still doesn't notice how you look at him."

You scoff, "That obvious, huh?"

"To everyone but him, it seems. Can I be honest?" Wooyoung rolls to face you. You nod, now looking at him. "Unless you tell him how you feel, you'll be doing nothing but waiting on him."

"But our friendship-"

"If you're about to tell me that it's enough for you, so help me God, y/n, I will kick your ass." You laugh for the first time since the conversation started. You understand what you have to do. You guys have already crossed so many boundaries and clearly, he feels something for you, right?

The door to the practice room swings open and this time it's Yeosang and San. San's bright smile seems to falter as his eyes instantly land on the jacket that's wrapped around you. His eyes shift between you and the drummer then he strides to you, grabbing your wrist.

"Let's go?" You don't have time to answer. San's practically ripping the jacket off of you and throwing it at Wooyoung who barely catches it. This time, you don't miss the change in his tone. He replaces Wooyoung's jacket with his hoodie, not saying a word as he puts it on you.

Just like the night before, the tension in the car is thick but unlike last night, it's you who's trying to spark a conversation. San's knuckles are turning white as he drives and it's starting to worry you. You've never seen San this upset before and you're still trying to place the reasoning. Was it jealousy?

You pull up to the house, expecting him to follow you like he always does but he doesn't. Instead, he leaves the engine running and his eyes on the street. For some reason, this sets you off. This man had the audacity to pull away from you, act like you were just a friend in front of the ex that cheated on him, but gets jealous over you casually talking to another guy?

You scoff and unbuckle your seatbelt, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door shut. San was feeling extra temperamental tonight. He couldn't understand why he felt like this either. Maybe he was looking for a fight. He turned off the engine and followed you inside. Before you could close and lock the door, he stepped into your house.

"What is your problem?" You asked venomously.

"What is your problem?"

"I didn't have any problem until you decided to get all confusing!" You dropped your tote bag on the floor, turning to face him fully.

"I'm confusing? Are kidding me?" He huffs out, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Actually, I'm not. You've been driving me nuts since we started hooking up. I'm over it!" His lip twitches into a sarcastic smile. "What the fuck was that with your ex? You completely pushed me aside. She treated you like shit, remember? She cheated, she lied, and she manipulated you. Do you want to get back to-"

"You're not my girlfriend, y/n!" He cut you off. "God, it's like you don't know your place." Tears pricked your eyes but you felt more angry than sad. Angry, you've never felt this way with San before. You're experiencing a lot of firsts tonight. San immediately realizes what he said, how hurt you were. He took a step closer to you but you put up your hands, putting up your boundaries for the first time.

"No, you're right. It's not like you hold my hand wherever we go or put your hands on my waist in public. You don't smile at me sweetly during dates. We're not completely vulnerable with each other, telling each other things we'd never breathe to others. It's not like we fuck almost every day! Do friends do what we do? Please, enlighten me. What's my place?"

"I'm sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have-" You're full-on bawling now, sucking in breaths where you can.

"I can't believe I've loved you for so long. I've torn my heart out for you and you just... you just throw it back at me like it's nothing!" His mouth opens but nothing comes out, instead he wraps his arms around you. You react once you feel him, trying to fight him off but he's stronger, trying to calm you down by hugging you.

You're screaming, all the feelings you've held inside bursting out of you, "Why can't you let me in?" You start to pound on your chest even though you know you shouldn't. You don't even notice that he's crying too. "Why can't it be me for once? Let it be me!"

"I'm sorry," He coos. You couldn't hold yourself up anymore, your feelings making it hard to focus. San catches you though, guiding you to sit on the floor.

San does his best to understand what you're saying through your sobs. He wants to understand what he's feeling. He thought he was doing this to get over Areum but why was he doing all the other things? He could've just stuck to the bare minimum but he didn't. Better question, how had he not noticed your feelings?

San was so caught in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed you had cried yourself to sleep. He was holding your head to his chest and he sighed, finally relaxing a bit. He couldn't really relax though, his mind still processing what you had said. He carried you bridal style to your room and thanking God that you had exhausted yourself.

San tucked you in and, after some hard debating, decided to lay in bed with you. He made sure that he wasn't touching you even though he knew he was going to leave before you woke up. He sighed to himself.

Even as you slept you were beautiful and he beat himself up for only now noticing how exhausted you looked. The man never understood why he was so willing and ready to sleep with you. He could acknowledge that there was steaming sexual tension but he never thought it would get this far. Nevertheless, you guys were in this situation; the very foggy area between friends and more.

Is this how you felt, absolutely terrified? You guys certainly couldn't go back to being friends after everything that's happened between you two. San's body started to shake as he silently cried. He couldn't even comprehend how much pain he's put you through these last few months.

____

You're not surprised to find your bed empty the next day; you wouldn't be surprised if San had sent you a message ending your friendship and promptly blocking you. You stare at your ceiling with tears already prickling your eyes. You weren't going to check your phone for texts. You just went to work.

The day went by fast, your boss giving you plenty of work to distract yourself. You were doing just fine until you pulled up to your apartment to find Wooyoung waiting to knock on your door.

"Wooyoung?" The man turned around, almost like a deer in headlights.

"Oh- Hey!" He quickly put his hands in his jean pockets. You walked to your door silently, unlocking the front door and inviting him in.

“What can I help you with?” You try to be casual even though all you’re thinking about is San and how you know Wooyoung’s here to soothe whatever problem you guys are having.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase. Talk to San. It’s only been a day of you two fighting and all of us are tired of him sulking.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“He came into practice looking all down and he didn’t talk to any of us. He just went through practice barely saying ten words throughout the whole thing.”

"How do you know this has something to do with me?"

“… Do I look blind to you? Everyone knows something’s going on between you two.” Wooyoung sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “Look, I don’t know what happened but I’m sure it was probably his fault. I’m not saying you should forgive him right away but just talk to him. Please?”

——

So now, here you are, outside his door. You took in a deep breath before knocking hard on his door. You couldn’t muster the courage to ask if he was home but there was no practice so you hoped for the best.

The door unlocked within a few minutes. “y/n?”

“H-Hi,” You stuttered out, feeling the weight on your shoulders get heavier. “Can I come in?”

San gestures you inside and you take a seat on his couch. There’s an awkward silence when he joins you and you can’t recall any other time it’s been like this. It was so easy to talk to San before but now you can’t even form a sentence.

“So—“

“What’d—“

You said at the same time.

“You first.” San breathed.

“I just figured we had a lot to talk about.”

"Right..." He brushed off his legs with a sigh.

"I like you, San- actually, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for so long and we slept together and it got messy. We've never talked about what we were after that night. You just made me a rebound and I turned the other way..."

His eyes burnt into your face and you were too scared to meet them. "I'm sorry. I never meant to put you in that kind of situation. I shouldn't have been so selfish. I didn't think about the way you were feeling."

San's warm hand grabs yours. "I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to see how you feel about me. I'm so sorry I said that you didn't know where your place was. Your place..." He takes a big deep breath, making you look at him, "Your place is right next to me. I lost you for one day and in that one day, I've realized what you really mean to me. I'm in love with you, y/n."

He places his hand on your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even notice. You're falling apart at his touch but you were so happy that he felt the same way and- Oh my god! Choi San was in love with you!

"You just said you were in love with me." You breathed, a smile breaking out on your lips.

"I did, didn't I?" He chuckles, closing the distance between your faces. Your breath hitches. "Are you going to give me a chance to love you for real this time?"

Your heart is going to burst and you don't really give it much thought.

"Yes."

[yandere-sins]

Hiii, it's my first time here !! I wonder if you could ask my question, if possible of course of Yandere Geralt of Rivia...

Imagine a scenario where the reader is from our world and went to Geralt's world, then the reader find him at him and tells his story and asks for help to return to his home... Of course, as time goes by, Geralt becomes "sick with love " for the reader to the point of becoming Yandere.

Note: the reader sees Geralt as best friend or older brother.

Thanks for your request ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

You were simply relieved you weren’t alone. 

There were a lot of terrible things that could happen to you, reaching from being mauled by a monster to cut down by a sword, and so, so many gruesome things more. Whatever Geralt saw in you, you were glad it didn’t make him leave you alone to your misery, no matter how strange you were.

Truthfully, you weren’t even a good choice as a squire, but aside from grumbling about your unhelpfulness when it came to battle, Geralt hadn’t driven you away. Despite being rough around the edges, he truly was the hero you needed in your predicament, and for that, you were thankful. 

Whatever you could do, you did, may it be fetching water or helping set up a tent. While the life of a traveling witcher was nothing you wished to pursue forever, you put up with everything you could so that you wouldn’t end up on your own again. The first week spent stumbling through the wild and running from monsters had been enough bad experience in this world for you. Now, your mind was only on one thing: Getting home.

It probably was a luxury to have Geralt’s help in not dying and achieving your goal, but all the more, you were relieved that whatever power made you fall into this strange world had enough mercy to send you this angel of a man. No matter how many dirty, uncomfortable looks you got for being with him whenever you two came into a town, you would endure them, knowing Geralt was the key to make this situation just a memory and send you back home to your family.

Home. It sounded heavenly. 

You sighed deeply, slowly awaking from your slumber. It couldn’t have been long that you fell asleep, the campfire still burning lively next to you. You still felt tired, but something was different than usual. Heavy even.

Pulling down the blanket you had wrapped yourself with, you saw the big arm laying around you, making you realized the heat of a second body in your back. Geralt never slept closer than necessary to you, but without the need to guess, he was definitely sleeping right beside you, spooning you from behind. 

With a flushing heat rising to your face, you were too embarrassed to say anything, even though his arm alone was too heavy to fall asleep with again. He might have accidentally fallen asleep next to you after having some drinks before bed and mistaken you for someone to cuddle up to. But waking him wasn’t an option. Geralt struggled with his sleep enough as it is; you wouldn’t dare to interrupt him and cause a scene. But the reality was very different from what you assumed. 

You heard him take a deep breath as he buried his face into the nape of your neck, not shy to pull away the fabric covering you and pushing his face into your skin. As you listened to him mutter your name, you felt a cold shudder run down your spine, but you tried not to make him notice you were awake. “[Name], [Name], [Name]...” he mumbled, and you bit your lip. The way he said your name always made it sound reproachful, despite you not remembering what you did wrong that day. 

“Look at you, letting your guard down. Don’t you know that I...”

His voice trailed off as you felt him shift suddenly. You reacted quickly, pretending to be fast asleep with your eyes closed and lips slightly parted innocently. Geralt let out a small chuckle before you felt him reach over you, dragging his thumb over your lip. “What are you dreaming about? Your heart is racing.”

Realizing you forgot the first thing about Witcher - their heightened senses - you didn’t know how to help yourself other than stirring a little in your sleep, putting on a frown. Sure enough, that made him halt in his tracks and back away a little, as if he feared you waking up. Only when you settled down again did Geralt relax as well, returning to his spooning position. 

“Seriously...” he kept muttering. “How am I supposed to go on like this? Every time we meet a Sorceress, I am afraid she will have a way to send you home.”

Something about his words gave you a sad impression. Almost as if parting would hurt him, but you weren’t sure if this was just your impression or if the tiny bit of his past that he told you about actually gave him this fear. In your eyes, Geralt was fearless and kept his composure no matter what, but what if you had misjudged him?

“I’d like to keep you all to myself. Lock you up and never let you go. Maybe when we get to Kaer Morhen, I could--”

This time, his voice halted suddenly, and he rose again from behind you. “Are you awake?” he asked, quiet still as if he was hoping you were asleep after all. You simply remained in your pretend sleep, taking an audible breather and hoping it would fool him. He remained in this careful stiffness for a while before he finally drew back. Immediately, you were surrounded by the chilly air of the night as his body disappeared, but before you dared to attempt to move around, you heard more of his mumbles.

“No, I can’t. I shouldn’t... It’s not right...”

What couldn’t he do?

You were ready to blame all the gibberish you had just heard on the mead you two had before bed, but the questions didn’t seem to stop circling your mind. Geralt seemed to fall asleep somewhere a bit further away, while you felt wide awake now. You couldn’t believe that Geralt - of all people! - could have developed any kind of feelings for you. But why else would he be worried about your return? Why would he say those things about locking you up?

Way too freaked out, you tried to make sense of what you had witnessed. Certainly, he didn’t want you to be awake as it went down, but now that you knew, you were left conflicted. Part of you kept getting goosebumps as you remembered the feeling of his face pressed into your shoulder and his words echoing in your ear. The other part tried to justify it with any and all reasons like the alcohol, loneliness maybe. There was no sleep for you after all, and Geralt kept stealing irritated glances at you the following day until he finally asked, “Are you okay?” 

You flinched after being suddenly addressed, not even your exhaustion able to tear you out of your thoughts that still pondered about the last night. “Oh, yeah! I’m fine,” you tried to assure him, and he contemplated your response for a bit before replying, “There’s this place we should go to next. Maybe we can find some books on portals there.”

“Sounds good,” you chuckled. Nervosity spread inside of you as you hoped he didn’t mean the place that he was talking about last night. 

“I grew up there. You might even be able to sleep in a bed for a change. Kaer Morhen is also safe and...”

After that part, your mind simply shut off as the word kept repeating over and over in your head. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen.

Kaer Morhen, lock up, never let go.

“...and it isn’t far from here,” he finished his explanation, looking at you as he waited for an answer while you could feel the horror showing in your expression. The red flags were so abundantly clear by now, but you absolutely refused to think this way about him. He wasn’t a bad man, he would never... or?

There were a lot of terrible things that could have happened to you on this journey, but you had put all your trust into Geralt to keep you safe. To help you. To be a companion so you wouldn’t be lonely. And until the end, you hoped Geralt wouldn’t turn out to be the monster or the sword you feared so much.

But who could tell what he’d do when he finally had a taste of living out the things he desired?

[unwantedtomost]

it had been months — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 4,401 words

summery: it had been nine months since you and your first real long term boyfriend broke up. but as they say, time makes the heart grow fonder ... and it also made the lust build up.

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, cheating, kind of a breeding kink at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

a/n: i have never actually posted a whole thing on here before, so i hope this goes well. i know my writing can improve, but it’s pretty good i would say. enjoy!

It had been months since you had broken up with your long-term boyfriend. Your first long-term boyfriend you had since you arrived to the Hollywood scene. Nine months, to be exact. The same amount of time it would have been to carry a child. A hypothetical child. The same hypothetical child that ruined your relationship in the first place.

“You don’t want kids?” Sebastian questioned as soon as you entered the shared apartment. The topic of children came up at dinner with your shared friends. You, offhandedly said: “God, no,” with a laugh, not giving it a second thought. Not till now.

“Not really,” you said as you unzipped your heeled boots. “I never really have, not since I was younger.”

“Never?” He asked, heart starting to beat heavier.

You looked up to him, concerned when you saw his face. It was the same face he had on every time you guys got in a face, mixed with disappointment, maybe even hurt. You smiled, trying to lighten the situation.

“Maybe not never,” you said, putting your shoes away. “But not at least for ten years, maybe even longer. I mean, I am only twenty-two. I would like a good life without children before bringing them into the mix.”

Your warm smile and calm demeanor did nothing to elevate the tension, something inside you saying it did the exact opposite. He looked serious and upset, a combination you never saw much.

“In ten years I’ll be almost fifty,” Sebastian states.

“So? Guys never really stop shooting out good rounds. All my parts will still be intact by that time too.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?” You were confused. Why was he acting like this?

“I shouldn’t be old enough to be the kid’s grandfather.”

Anger started to bubble up as well. This tone that he had made you pissed off. He was talking like you were stupid like you didn’t get what he was saying. The brassiness you had in general not helping your temper.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating someone sixteen years younger than you,” you shot back.

Then the yelling started. Something that could have been a deep, meaningful conversation (one that frankly should have been had way before this point) turned into a full-blown fight. You both started going in at each other, picking at old scabs that you knew would hurt. That was the point, after all, you just wanted to hurt each other. Because you were mad and upset, you guessed, but by the end of it, you weren’t even sure.

The fighting ended two hours later, you sat, slumped on the couch, huffing. You tried to catch your breath from all the yelling. Your throat was hoarse, your cheeks sticky from dried tears.

“It seems like we’re not gonna work out then,” you said, numb.

“Seems so.”

And you left that night, grabbing nothing but your phone before making your way to your closest friend’s house.

After that, you cried for two months straight. You really thought that Sebastian was endgame. That you would be together forever. That you would be happy. Ever since you caught sight of him at your first audition, you felt that he was the one. Then the universe laughed maniacally as it showed you just how fucking wrong you were.

In the past nine months, you had seen him approximately sixteen times, most being in passing, a few being at parties, and one time being at a coffee shop that you both loved. You started to frequent it less after the breakup, too scared to bump into him. Little did you know, he was doing the same thing. The day you two saw each other was both of your first times in three months.

It was all stupid small talk until it wavered, forced laughs and fake smiles fading as the reality of the situation simmered in.

“Look, y/n—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. You simply couldn’t. “It was nice seeing you again, Sebastian. I hope you have a good life.” You took a few steps before turning back around for a moment. He looked at you like he was expecting you to run into his arms and make everything go back to normal. “And I really hope you meet a girl that can give you what you need.”

He tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn’t let him. You simply walked away and left him, alone. That was the last time you had spoken to him.

It was five months after the breakup until you let your friends talk you into going out again. And that night you had run into none other than the Timothee Chalamet. Numbers were exchanged then the next thing you knew, you were naked in his hotel room. After that, you went through a bit of a “hoe stage.” Every two weeks you were on a cover of TMZ, E!, or any other celebrity gossip magazine that existed with a “possible new thing.” The people ranged from Tom Holland to Madison Beer, and no one knew what was true or not. After the first few batches came out, you stopped giving a shit. You were allowed to rebound with whomever or however you wanted to, and you were taking full advantage of that.

You were so busy juggling so many people that you hadn��t even thought about Sebastian. Not till right now. Your eyes catch his from across the ballroom that you’re currently in. Your pulse quickens rapidly, you feel like you might even faint. If it wasn’t for Timothee’s hand on your waist, you were sure you would have collapsed on the spot. You watched as Sebastian’s jaw clenched just like it did whenever you did something he disapproved of. Just like it did every time he gave into himself and read one of those stupid gossip sights and saw you all over whatever arm candy you had chosen for the week.

“I’ll be right back, okay babe?” Timothee said, kissing you on the cheek. He waited for you to nod before making his way to one of his friends.

You don’t know what to do and those beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with all that time ago refuse to leave yours. You feel like you want to cry, or scream, or throw up, but you know that you shouldn’t actually do any of those things. You’d draw attention and you don’t want any more people talking about you.

Luckily, one of your best friends, Elizabeth, pulls you into a tight hug and brings you back to earth. Her body feels warm and it makes you feel safe, the smell of her strawberry shampoo bringing you comfort.

“I know,” she said before you spoke. “I saw. Are you okay? I’ll leave with you right now if you want to.”

It takes you a minute to process everything, and even though you’re running everything through your mind, nothing really sinks in.

“I’ll be fine,” you say with conviction, though you don’t know if it’s true at all. “Leaving wouldn’t accomplish anything.” You stop talking for a minute before smiling at Elizabeth. “Now, let’s go give the people what they want and take some pictures together.”

It had been two hours and the event was finally coming to a close. No more than forty-five minutes and the place would be cleared out. With that knowledge, you went to go take advantage of the free bar stocked up with expensive liquor. After schmoozing with people you did not even want to interact with, you deserve it.

“Two shots of tequila and a rum and coke, please,” you say to the rather cute bartender, shoulders slumping.

As soon as the two shot glasses were in front of you, you downed them. It burned like hell and you could only imagine the ungodly face you made. You tried to chase it with the rum and coke, but it didn’t help much. You heard a gruff voice beside you order something, one that was very familiar. When you heard a chuckle, you knew for sure who was right next to you. You froze again, that same dizzy, sick feeling coming back. You turned your head slowly to see those big blue eyes for the second time tonight, your heart surely beating loud enough that anyone in a mile radius could hear it.

“You look beautiful tonight, y/n,” Sebastian said, leaning against the bar, facing you.

“You do too,” you blurt out. Face turning red after you realized that you’re fucking stupid. “I mean, you look—shit. You look very nice, Seb—Sebastian.”

You’re so flustered and red, you want to simply sink into the floor. For a moment, you wonder why he isn’t acting the same way. It could be that he had already had some to drink or maybe he was just better at controlling his emotion. And the thought that makes dread flow through you is that maybe he is just over you.

“Are you going to an after-party?” He asks, sipping from his glass.

“I don’t think so,” you say. You were supposed to go to one with Timothee, where you were finally going to announce that you two had become official, but now you just want to go home. “Are you?”

“Probably not,” he said simply. “I’ll just have a few more of these back home and go to bed.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” you say, hinting. You know what you are trying to get across but you don’t know why. It’s like your mouth was moving before your brain could understand what you were doing.

“It’s not ideal,” he said. “But I really don’t have a date to drink with, unlike you.” He pointed towards Timothee talking to a director you hastily met.

“He’s not my date,” you shot out. “I mean, he is, but we’re not like, dating.” Why the fuck are you talking!?!?

“It’s none of my business,” Sebastian said. He didn’t sound mean, he sounded like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know … but we’re not … if you were wondering.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your elbow. “It was nice to see you again, y/n.”

He turned to start walking away but you called after him, making him turn back around. “Wait!” Once he was facing you, you felt like you were in a movie. “I could go for a drink.”

Sebastian smiled but his eyes dismissed you. “What are you doing, sugar?” He warned.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “But don’t shut me down.”

With a shared smile, he took your hand and you both left the party. On the car ride back to his apartment (that used to be your apartment), you thought briefly about how you would explain this to Timothee in the morning. Then you turned off your phone so you didn’t have to feel guilty if he decided to text you. Neither of you spoke much on the way. His hand never left its place on your thigh before you were finally there.

When he opened the door, you stumbled lightly into the apartment. Sebastian caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He lightly sat you down on the chair by the entrance (the same one you had sat at nine months ago). Once he had closed the door and put his things down, he came back to you to help slip off your heels.

“Are you already drunk?” He chuckled.

“No, just a wee bit tipsy.”

“Your ‘wee bit’ is usually a lotta bit.”

“Not this time, I really mean just a wee wee bit.” You suddenly burst out laughing at the fact you just said wee wee, giving away the fact that you are indeed close to being drunk.

“Maybe you don’t need anymore to drink,” Sebastian said.

“C’mon, Sebby, take that stick out of your ass,” you say, making him laugh. It makes you feel lighter like you weren’t fucking shit up again. Like you weren’t making a mistake you would regret in the morning. 

You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, pouring both of you a glass of red wine. Your favorite and most expensive red wine, the one that you had left at the apartment after the breakup. You wondered if it was the same bottle, or if he had done the same thing he was doing with you with another girl. When he came back, he handed you the glass which you placed down on the coffee table, realizing you were still in a designer white dress that you didn’t own.

“Shit,” you muttered after your realization.

“What is it?”

“This isn’t my dress.”

His eyes wandered down your figure as he thought. “You can take that off and I can hang it up for you. I’m sure there’s something here you can wear.”

You nodded before he was walking towards the bedroom, the one you once shared. You followed after him through the small hall. You looked around the room, noticing how boring it looked now. None of your decorations you had were up anymore, but the small mural you once painted in the middle of the night was still in full view. Did he think about you every time he saw it? If he did, why didn’t he just paint over it? 

Sebastian placed one of his shirts (that was your favorite one to wear) and a pair of shorts you had thought you lost on the bed.

“Well, you can get changed in here,” he stated before going for the door.

“Actually,” you called out, stopping him from leaving. “Can you unzip me please?”

He paused for a moment before nodding, slowly making his way back to you. The room went silent as he softly collected your hair and moved it to one side. Heat started to rise through your body at the close proximity he held. His hands grazed your shoulders momentarily before he steadily unzipped the expensive dress. You caught his eyes in the mirror in front of you, your cheeks immediately burning red. He finished unzipping the dress before helping you slide it off your arms. You had to cover your breasts with your arm since you hadn’t worn a bra. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen your body before, he knew his way around there better than you did, but not covering yourself just felt inappropriate. But, to be fair, the entire situation felt inappropriate. The dress fell to a pool around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lace black underwear, ones that Sebastian had bought for you one month before you broke up. You stepped out of the dress, eyes never leaving his. He bent down to pick it up, blue orbs never leaving your eyes.

“I’ll go lay this on the guest bed,” Sebastian said plainly before leaving the room and closing the door.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you let your arm fall. Even though you hadn’t even had a conversation with Sebastian in six months, being in that moment felt more intimate than anytime you had sex with Timothee—or anyone, for that matter. You pulled on the worn-out gray tee shirt that vaguely had ‘Coca-Cola’ printed across it before going out to the living room where you found Sebastian sipping on his wine, now dress in an old tee and grey sweatpants.

The next hour felt like a blur, it was filled with giggles and stupid comments. By the end of it, the wine bottle was empty and you two were officially wine drunk. Now, you were slumped on the couch (the one that you picked out), leaning towards Sebastian, hand dancing along the cushion space between you two.

“Have you realized we never had a goodbye?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?” He asked, not wanting his guess to what you were talking about to be right.

“I mean, we had a fight and I left then we were done. There were no ‘this is for the best’ speeches or attempts at a goodbye kiss. One day there was an us and the next it was … nothing.” You looked up at him, an innocent yet quizzical look on your soft features.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” he said.

Not this shit again. “I know,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about anything. We’re not together anymore. We don’t even need to acknowledge each other’s existence anymore. But tonight, you did, and now we’re on your couch.”

“I don’t—” he started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“We don’t have to talk about it then. But, I do have another question. Did you ever fuck anyone here?” The words flowed out before you could think any longer, nothing but courage and alcohol running through your body.

“What?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, Sebastian. I just want to know if you ever fucked someone in my—our—this place.”

His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, voice sharp and clear. “No, y/n, I have never fucked anyone in this place. No one but you.”

That answer made you happy. This place, your place, was still pure. No random hookups had tramped through the place where you lived.

“Good,” you accidentally said out loud, making him upset.

“Why does it even matter? It’s not like you weren’t fucking those young things you were all over in public.” He started to get angry at the thought. “Who are you to question me about my sex life after you broke up with me then pranced around tabloid covers for months with different people each week?”

“Because this was our house, I just want to know it wasn’t tainted by blonde bitches with names you didn’t even remember in the fucking morning.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re the only blonde bitch I’ve fucked.”

Suddenly, your hand was moving and your palm was connecting with his face. It shocked both of you, making you both freeze in place. It took ten seconds before Sebastian grabbed the wrist you hit him with, yanking it so you were closer to him. So close you could feel his breath on your face.

“Slap me again and see what fucking happens, I dare you,” he spit out.

Then your heart was in your ass as your stomach erupted with butterflies and your panties soaked with arousal.

It was almost like you lost all control over your body as you smashed your lips against his. Your hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and tugging at the hair there. The intentional scruff on his face was harsh against your smooth skin, but it only elevated your pleasure. Sebastian’s hands went around the sides of your neck, one kind of cupping your face while the other was closer to the back to pull you closer. You felt like you needed to get closer to him, get as close as possible. You needed every single inch of him over every single part of yourself. Your leg swung, straddling him.

Without thinking, you rutted yourself against his thigh, a guttural moan coming from your lips as you did. It’s not like you hadn’t been touched in a while, you just got fucked a few days ago, but you hadn’t experienced something as hot as this in so long. It was rushed and needed, you felt like you would die if he stopped. Your hips absent-mindedly grinded down against his thigh again.

“Fuck, ride my thigh baby,” he ordered. You listened, slipping into your old ways. You continued to rut against his thigh as you kissed. He knew you were getting close by the moans you were letting out into the kiss. He pulled away from your lips, watching as you were losing yourself. “I want you to cum for me, sugar.”

Your hips slowed as your mind raced a mile a minute. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum from just his thigh. What would that do to his already inflated ego? It sounded like bullshit to give into him.

“No,” you mumbled out, your hips threatening to halt their movement.

“No?” He repeated.

You sat there for a minute, silent as his eyes frantically studied your face to see what the point was. He wondered if you wanted to stop, he would understand completely, but he knew that wasn’t what it was by the way you keep clenching your thighs together. Sebastian smirked as he realized what was really happening. He grabbed your hips and started to push you down on his thigh. The problem was that you wanted to cum, but you didn’t want to cum for him. Too bad he was determined on it.

You moaned loudly as he started to drag your hips. You were inching so close, the fact that you didn’t want to give in to the feeling made it feel like it was only becoming stronger. Your hands grabbed his old t-shirt as you frantically moved your hips back and forth. Your nose scrunched and your eyes shut tight, your mouth letting out a whisper of “oh fuck”s on a loop.

“That’s it,” you heard Sebastian say even though his voice sounded like it was miles away. “Cum like a good girl.”

Suddenly, all the pressure that was building up deep within your tummy snapped and you were on cloud 9. Your heat pulsed as you road out your orgasm, Sebastian's hands helping you immensely. It took a good minute of pants as you caught your breath before you opened your eyes and came back to reality.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you muttered to him when you finally made eye contact again.

“I know,” he smirked. “Now be a good girl, sugar, and take off your pants.”

You questioned arguing with him more, but you decided not to. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad. You stood up and pulled down your shorts, doing a little spin so Sebastian could marvel at how wonderful you looked.

“As beautiful as those look on you, darling, they’d look better on the floor.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you stripped out of the underwear as well, leaving you in nothing but an old grey t-shirt. You went back to your place on Sebastian’s lap, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. You felt like you were melting into him entirely as everything snapped back into place. Your hands roamed lower, palming him through his grey sweats. You smirked to yourself at the realization of how hard he was already and at the fact he wasn’t wearing boxers. He lifted his hips to help you pull down his pants. Just as you were getting ready to place his member in the place you wanted him the most, he halts your movement by grabbing your wrist.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom, y/n,” he warned. You frowned, upset that he had stopped you.

“I don’t care.”

“But you still have that IUD in, right?”

You grimaced because no, you did not. Your five years had run out two months ago and you hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment for a new one. You shook your head slowly side to side before he sighed. He went to pull you off of him but you stopped him by holding onto his shoulders

“I don’t care,” you repeated.

“Y/n, you know why can’t.”

“Why not?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “Besides the fact you could get pregnant?”

“I don’t care,” you said one more time. “I want you.”

He looked into your eyes, trying his best to decipher your intentions.

“Y/n …”

“Get me pregnant, Sebby,” you said, meaning it too. “I want you, I want your kids. Fuck, I want us back. I don’t care if that means kids and a white picket fence. I just want you.”

“Are you sure?”

In response, you slowly leaned down and your lips touched. It was nothing like the kisses you had shared preferably, it was slow and soft. He pulled you closer, finally letting you lower yourself down on him. You both let out loud moans as you sink down on his member.

It was like you had forgotten what making love felt like, probably because you did. In the past nine months since you had split, you hadn’t made love with anyone once. It was all just meaningless sex or hot fucking, but there was no love behind it. You didn’t love Timothee, you hadn’t loved any of your flings. Maybe it was because you never stopped loving Sebastian—you were almost sure it was because of that.

You moved up and down whilst Sebastian thrust up into you. The room was filled with moans, grunts, and praises from both ends. He started to kiss your neck as his thumb started to rub your clit. The multiple amounts of stimulation only brought you closer to your climax.

“I’m gonna, fuck—I’m close.”

“I know, babygirl,” he cooed. “Look at me.” You looked into his blue orbs, feeling your climax inching ever so closer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined out as your hips moved faster. “Cum inside me, Sebastian. Get me—fuck, god—put a fucking baby in me.”

With your confirmation, he flipped you on your back, thrusting harder. The hand that wasn’t toying with your clit interlaced with yours. Your grip on each other squeezed harder as you neared your finishes. You wrapped your legs around him as his hips started to stutter.

“Cum with me, baby,” Sebastian groaned.

You finally let the coil that built inside of you snap with his permission. Moments later, he busted inside of you, making you both yell out. He collapsed on top of you, trying his best not to crush you under his weight. You both panted for minutes before you finally spoke up.

“I love you,” you said. He lifted his head, looking into his eyes. “I never stopped.

“Neither did I,” Sebastian said. “Did you mean it, you want to have kids?”

“I want to do anything if it means I can be with you. Anything.”

[myckicade]

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

*

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

*

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

*

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

*

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

*

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

*

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[goldentsum]

━ submissives and overstimulation

CHARACTERS: bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku, and kirishima eijirou

GENRE: smut

TAGS: overstimulation (male receiving), slight bdsm, oral, penetration, pegging, submissive males 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: my first bnha fic please-! i missed bnha so i rewatched a couple of eps of s4 and i got an idea-- a sinful one anyway-

━ bakugou ♡

surprisingly submissive. you both know he can throw you off him if he wants to but bakugou lives for the dominance that oozes out of you. 

a kinky piece of shit 

in the moment, he has absolutely no filter and is a fucking brat about it, hips jerking and moans loud as fuck that after you two finish, his voice is all scratchy and raw. 

but when you two are finished, he will get all embarrassed and angry if you comment about it like he wasn’t the one humping you like a dog. 

overstimulating katsuki is always so fun! 

bakugou growls whenever you two do something sexual but after a bit, it slowly turns into broken whimpers and you take pride on that.

his voice is just so fucking heavenly, his dick heavy in your mouth, and he taste absolutely delicious. 

one of the reasons you love giving him head is his cum. his cum just taste so amazing. there’s a hint of sweetness to it that gets you hooked and keeps you wanting more. 

so when it’s the 3rd time he came in your mouth, his voice is all raspy and raw and his body jerking nonstop but did you stop? nope. 

he’s too fun to tease to stop~ 

“f-fuck, (y/n)! don’t... s-stop--!” bakugou gasping through his 3rd orgasm for the night, body all sweaty and sensitive, as he felt you swirling your tongue around his dick’s sensitive head. 

you let of his cock for a moment, a lewd pop echoing in the room along with bakugou’s heavy pants. you smirked up at him, your hand encasing around his spent cock and rubbed him softly. it gained you a broken groan and a full on shudder, hips not knowing whether to lean away from your touch or thrust into your hand. 

“do you really want to stop, katsuki?” you asked, taking the reddening head of his dick into your mouth and licking around it gently but even that was too much for bakugou

“j-just-- let me breathe a second... geez, woman--” he groaned out and sighed in relief when he felt you stop though you didn’t remove him from your mouth. bakugou closed his eyes, breathing heavily and trying to calm his rapid heart. but then he felt a harsh suck making his eyes snap open in surprise and sensitivity and looked down at you with wide blown red eyes. 

“s-shit” his eyes rolled back to his head when you started taking more of him, your pace getting faster with each moment.

guess he just has to cum again, not that he’s really complaining. 

━ todoroki ♡

todoroki is a brat. thank you for coming to my tedtalk. but seriously though, he really is. he likes getting on your nerves and testing you and your patience as he tries out different things to get you to punish him. oomf--

he likes seeing you angry and getting punishments. his favorite is over-stimulation and orgasm denial, either is fine but over-stimulation has a special place in his heart~ 

he is a masochist. periodt. 

you don’t really like hurting him or call him degrading names cus you just wanna love him and kiss every inch of his body but shouto has different plans from you. 

and as time pass, you kinda got used to it but never really full on be dominant and sadistic on him.

so when you snapped one day, it lowkey scared him but damn, the punishment was amazing. 100000/10 todoroki will repeat again.

ngl though, shouto loves your aftercare more than any kinky shit you two tried. even if his masochistic side just wants you to leave him aching and covered with cum and sweat as he feels so worthless like a used sex doll, your aftercare was everything. 

it grew on you too, seeing him all bruised up and messy with cum and all sort of fluids raised a sick obsession in you. 

just imagining the big powerful pro-hero tied up in your bed and letting you do anything to him was making you horny. 

bratty masochist! todoroki is one hell of a ride. literally. 

ragged breaths escaped you as you stared down at the male beneath you. todoroki moaning at the pleasure, his hips trying to match yours but it was a little difficult with all the restrains you have on him. the burning ache on his wrists and arms being tied to the bedpost for who knows how long as the build up for his 4th orgasm made him dizzy. 

you bounced on his lap, feeling his large cock twitching inside you as it threatened to fill you up once again with his thick cum. over the haze of pleasure, you continued to watch your boyfriend get lost in the pleasure with his mouth open as a thin line of spit trailed down to his chin. 

growling when you felt him cum again as you ride him through his 4th orgasm, letting your hands fall down to his bruised chest and scratched him, leaving angry red lines on his marked up torso. 

todoroki groaned at the pain, hips frantically thrusting up to you and letting the overwhelming pleasure flood his entire body. broken moans and curses escaped the man when your thrust didn’t faltered even after his orgasm. 

“if you think we’re finish here then you’re absolutely wrong, you fucking whore. we’re only gonna stop if you make me cum, got that. you’re nothing more than a useless fuck toy.” you spat out, gripping his chin to make him look at you. todoroki’s half-lidded and fucked out eyes stared at you, letting out moans in between words. 

“yes-... u-use me more, m-mistress--” 

━ midoriya ♡

this boy is one whiny mofo-- goodluck 

midoriya may seem innocent but do not be fooled, he’s a sinful one. he may act all cute and stuff like that but when you two are alone, he will jump your bones like it’s no one’s business. 

he completely trusts you so you two try all sorts of kinks even if the other is unsure. it’s not gonna hurt to try. 

one kink he never knew he’ll have is pegging and you’re damn good at it. midoriya just can’t believe how well you just swirl your hips around making the dildo hit every spot in his walls that makes him see stars.

he’s really not afraid to be vocal and try all sort of things so sex is verryyy interesting. 

everytime you fuck midoriya into oblivion with a strap on, expect him to cum multiple times until he can’t anymore. he’s super sensitive too so yeah. 

midoriya cries when he’s sensitive but goddamn he looks so pretty like that. 

tears spilling down his freckled cheeks, his lips swollen, and his muscles contracting from the immense pleasure you keep giving him. 

he’s a greedy man though, even if he came multiple times he still gets soooo needy. loving the pain over-stimulation comes with. 

you love seeing the number one hero putty in your hands~ 

sounds of skin slapping and midoriya’s loud moans filled the room, your tiring hips started to get slower making the man beneath you whine at the decreasing pleasure. you clicked your tongue at that, stopping completely and leaned closer to midoriya, your chest pressed against his strong back while he heave heavy breaths. 

“s-sweets.. please m-move” he whined, grinding his ass to your strap-on and arched his back as he tried to get you to continue while he leaned against the pillow next to his head. his cock hanging between his thick thighs, cum spilling down his skin and to the blankets beneath him. he was still hard like he just didn’t cum 3 times already. 

you bit the broken skin on his neck as midoriya moaned at your sharp teeth sinking into his skin and arched his back even more, grasping the blankets. 

“good boys should take what they are given. no asking for more or less.” you said, hands moving to his chest as you thumb his nipples making him jerk his hips back and a hoarse moan escaping him. 

you started to move your hips again while one of your hands went to his thick cock, pumping him with the same pace as your thrusts, and midoriya’s eyes rolled back to his head, loud broken moans escaping him. 

you leaned away and pushed his head against the pillows, muffling his screams as you quicken your thrust. the strap-on hitting his prostate head on. 

“let’s see how many times you can cum before you pass out, izu~” 

━ kirishima ♡

red riot is a switch but leaning more into the dom side but this sweet boy loves getting praises and lives to please you. he will do everything in his power to make you satisfied and know that you are contented.

even when subbing, there’s still a hint of dominance to him. but! if you overstimulate him, his mind just melts and all thoughts and rationality flies out the window. 

his reactions are also so fucking yummy~ teeth gritting together, sharp inhales, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and hands gripping the covers of your bed as his quirk threatening to activate and just tear through the cloth.

i said it once and i’ll say it again, kirishima lives for praises. 

so please praise him. 

he’s also soooo sensitive. because when he was a teenage, he barely touched himself with how hectic UA was but when he finally had time and you came along, his libido just skyrocketed! 

at first, he cums way to early but do not fret, kiri will never never leave you unsatisfied. 

his oral techniques are top tier. you can’t change my mind. 

kirishima also is pretty quiet with just loud grunts and groans but when he already came multiple times, he really goes feral. 

he keeps on chasing the pleasure even though it probably hurts with all the sensitivity he’s feeling. 

his moans are broken and it only gets louder at that point. 

“baby girl, ahh- fuck--! you feel so good-” kirishima groans out, mouth open and showing those sharp teeth of his that you oddly had some weird fixation with. you looked at his lips, it was red and tender, as his teeth peaked out. you rolled your hips when you heard his small whine as your hand went to his mouth. shoving two fingers in his mouth, playing with his tongue that eagerly met your fingers. 

feeling his cock twitch inside you, you smirked down at the fucked out expression the man was giving you. you pressed down to his throat making him gag but his thrust never faltered and only quicken at your action.

“you look so fucking amazing, eijirou~” 

at your praise, his hips jerked and a loud moan followed it, a bit muffled by your fingers. riding him, you moaned at the pleasure he gave you as kirishima’s thick cock nudged your g-spot. 

the red-haired male groaned loudly around your fingers when he felt you clench around him, your velvety walls tight and warm as you rip an unexpected orgasm from him. 

hips jerking wildly when he suddenly came, pleasure coursing through his veins. a pathetic whimper escaping him when you continued to ride him. the sensitivity brought tears to his eyes but he didn’t stop you, body jerking when pain and pleasure hit him. 

“i wanna see you cum again, ei~” 

[mockingbirdshymn]

for someone who loves preston to hell and back i do not post about him as much as i should

OK dusts off jeans ITS TIME FOR PRESTON TIME (headcanons v2?)

he overthinks everything all of the time. like, all of the time. he needs things to Be Perfect, and he wont allow them to not be. he drafts and redrafts and redrafts every play he writes. this is potentially a reason his plays arent as... quality as they could be. he overthinks things and ends up with a rigid, rushed storyline, but at least it has proper grammar.

preston does most of the chores around his and gram gram's apartment, mostly because it hurts her hips/back to do them herself. she gives preston chore money in return.

preston has a photo album of his family dating back to his great grandparents. it has entries from them, their hopes for the future, and pictures of their lives. preston finds it interesting.

preston backseat drives pretty often. this is mostly due to the fact his grandmother is not the best driver out there and he often has to correct her.

preston gets very emotional over movies/games/books. especially dog movies. he loves them, but every time he rewatches them, he bursts into tears.

preston writes in mostly cursive, unless hes being rushed.

when he was a kid, gram gram knit/sewed most of his costumes for his one-man plays

preston loved english class in elementary school because of the poem projects. he always made wild interpretations of popular poems for these. most of them were wrong, but he got points for effort at least

preston would have a plant, call it his pet, end up killing the plant, then hold a funeral for it

he is very good at improv. this makes him very funny, because he easily expands upon already funny jokes.

preston's back hurt like shit after the wcc episode. you cant tell me his spine isnt severed in half or some shit

preston writes letters to himself a year in the future, asking himself questions and reminding him to do things if he hasnt already done them.

preston is very extroverted. he needs to be around at least another person or he'll get very upset

preston has a google document of blackmail (jokingly) of his friends

hes worried his gram gram is slowly getting dementia, because of her forgetting so much. he doesnt know if thats because of dementia or something else

whenever preston sends letters, he uses a wax seal. he got it from a kit off of amazon. its his favorite part of sending letters

preston has so many blankets. throw blankets, comforters (just ones in a closet, not even for his bed), fort-blankets, weighted blankets, super soft blankets, knit blankets, quilts, everything you can imagine. this makes blanket forts very fun with him

before wanting to be an actor/playwright, preston wanted to be a baker, then an artist, and then a singer. actor/playwright stays as his dream job after he gains it.

preston often sleeps in on school days by mistake. its rare he actually gets up on time. probably because he stays up incredibly late most days

preston would burn the house down in case of a spider, no doubt

preston was so upset at the dear evan hansen movie and how it turned out. he was So Angry

preston cant watch horror. if he does, he will faint

speaking of fainting, thats something he does a lot. he also has low iron. is that connected? he doesnt know

preston gets very motion sick, and he does not like rollercoasters at all

preston is very dedicated and stubborn. if you say "its nothing" in regards to something that is very much not nothing, he will find out what that something is.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E131 (March 30, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Liam O’Brien and Sam Riegel!

Brian points out that a lot of Caleb’s greatest fears have come to pass. Liam: “It’s funny, because he’d kind of believed for a while that those things weren’t going to happen. After a while, he got complacent.” He notes that it was extra wild because everything with Trent popped up again in the midst of that complacency. And how did it feel to be defiant toward Trent? “I think Trent successfully made Caleb question if Caleb really was in control“ at the dinner party. “I feel like anything that I do is part of his plans for me, or is that just gaslighting? I’m legitimately scared of that dude.” Sam: “Of Matt?” Liam: “Sure.” He highlights the disconnect between knowing that the M9 is mechanically powerful and could possibly defeat Trent in a dice-and-stats battle, versus fearing him in a story sense and being convinced he can do almost anything.

Sam, on Luc’s death: “That was brutal, man. Matt Mercer is a-- he hates children! Clearly. He actively sought to kill a child in the campaign in as brutal a way as possible. He hates children and wants them dead. Canon. No, but to RP, that was horrible.” He highlights that so much of Veth’s arc has been about trying to get back to her family. “We had to choose something and we thought we were making the right choice. It was all Veth’s fault, and it was pretty rotten. My heart was beating pretty fast, and I certainly didn’t want to have my son die live on the stream. I don’t know what Veth would have done. That’s the end, that’s over. It’s almost worse than when your own character would die. This is something that would also kill Veth.” After the episode was over: “just shaken. I also didn’t know what to do next! That felt like a turning-point moment for my character, weirdly so close to what we assume to be the end arc of this campaign. I texted Matt later that night and was like, that’s it, Veth’s out, I’m tapping out.”

There’s an interlude in which Sam discovers a new dream to record an episode of this show from his Peloton. Dani informs him that she will not be inviting him back.

On Astrid, Liam: “I literally don’t know what she’s doing. I know that she’s dangerous, she always was ambitious, and there’s not been a moment where Caleb let his guard down with her. He’s not trying to reestablish what they had. He cares for the both of them, for Astrid and Eodwulf. He thinks about it a lot, still. He can’t tell how much she buys into everything that she experienced and is now living as a full-grown adult. He suspects that she’s bought in and is not going to change things, because she believes in the system, as much as he’d like to peel her away. He does believe that they want what’s best for the Empire, and stopping whatever wants to come vomiting out of a hole in the frozen north is good for everyone. And they’re powerful. They’re not trustworthy, obviously. But there’s enough at stake to make it worth it. He could imagine a situation where they fight each other to the death.” He was convinced Astrid was going to stop them when they left the tower and was really shocked when she held back. Sam: “Not me! I’ve trusted Astrid since day one. She’s the greatest! I sent a letter to her, she’s very nice, I think you guys would be a nice couple. I believe every word she says.”

On having to decide on Veth deciding to go off and save the world after Luc’s death. “Like I said, I was ready to be done. And then I decided somewhere in there that that’s not very D&D. So I thought I’d leave it up to somebody else, so I asked Caduceus to decide for me, essentially. She knows she’s putting her other family in danger if she doesn’t go. It’s an impossible choice, you know?” Liam: “I love watching you grapple with it, because you’re a lovely father and love your kids.”

On the Sanatorium, Sam: “That was brutal, man. Matt lulls you into a sense of complacency. We’d forgotten that Caleb was a stone-cold killer! It had been a while since he went on a murder spree. Still got it!” Liam: “I never meant for this character to be perfect sunshine.” Brian: “You don’t say.” Liam: “He’s very not-perfect, and I think in his brain, he was going in with the impression that they needed to get in and get out as soon as possible. The place is crawling with people with magic ability, and I didn’t have faith that we wouldn’t be sussed out or something wasn’t going to blow an illusion.” Everything was about getting out of there as fast as possible.

Did the conversation with Yeza help with Veth’s decision? “First of all, every conversation with Yeza is a beautiful one. Every time she talks to Yeza, it makes her feel good. In some ways, she’s gotten to the point now where she knows Yeza’s going to be supportive, she knows he’s going to allow her to do what she wants, but maybe that’s too much. Maybe she needs to not listen to him, basically, and be like, no, you need to be selfish now, dude, you need to say ‘come home, I’m sick of you leaving’. At a certain point, being supportive can turn into being enabling.”

Cosplay of the Week: Jester in the snow! (liljerbear47, photography by kairiceleste on Instagram)

On Trent’s motivations for chasing Caleb: “I really don’t know. The simplest explanation is to just hammer down the nail that’s sticking up. It has crossed his mind that all high-level wizards are in danger of their own ambition and egos, so it’s occurred to him that Trent might have the same kind of ideas that Halas had in the past, and maybe Caleb was always meant to be another body to jump into. Maybe in some sick, disgusting, twisted way, he wants him to be his successor. I am thinking of the next campaign, without getting too deep in, trying to do something that is much more ride-along. Caleb is very, very specific, and I thought long and hard about all the different pieces on the chessboard for him. For campaign three, I’m looking forward to seeing what happens.”

Dani: “Do I need to be keeping lore on your fucking ads?”

On the cursed dagger: “It was a tricky one, because in campaign one, one of the characters was under the influence of a cursed weapon, but it interacted with him and he knew what it was and what it did. And it affected his gameplay as a character. For me, Veth didn’t know what it was, ever. I as a player knew what it was doing, but Veth didn’t know at all. So it was kind of like my dirty, dark secret for many months. I knew this thing was coming perilously close to killing me, but my character didn’t know enough to bring it up to her friends. Nobody ever asked! So I was like, well, I guess this thing’s just going to kill me one day, and it’s kind of going to be a surprise.” Liam: “Sam, you love danger and self-destruction so much, you might as well be Mollymauk.”

On the fight in Yasha’s sequence, Sam: “You gotta put a character in your storm giant creature. It was so fun! It was so great of Matt to involve us in this encounter. It would’ve been fun just to watch, because Matt would have made it amazing and Ashley was sweating bullets, which is always fun to watch.” Sam notes he felt guilty, but Liam was going for the kill. Liam: “Matt’s gotta be careful about giving me that kind of story beat. I do not fucking care, I just fucking flip, I’m like, well, I’m going to destroy you, and I have no qualms about it. It’s too much fun!”

The Beau/Yasha tower date was in part inspired by not being able to give gifts as easily this last year. “This thing that we do together is a gift, but I love finding these moments, like the book for Jester and the tower for Yasha and for Beau. I really just wanted to give both of them a little magic for a night. I wanted them to leave this-- we’re trying to be as entertaining as possible, but shit is having an effect on all of us too, and I wanted them to have an escape, a great place to escape to.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing group shot, plus Marion, Yeza, and Luc! (vocaz on Twitter)

On choosing Essek over Trent, Liam: “It would have been so interesting and awful and great! Essek and Astrid and Eodwulf are everything that Bren used to be attracted to that are terrible for him. Essek, hopefully he can with time find a way out of the hole that he dug himself into, but it was only two months ago where he was found out and his ambitions came crashing down around him. Long-term, I have high hopes for him, but I think it’s going to be hard.” In contrast, Astrid and Eodwulf are still “deep in the shit. It would have been really hard to navigate, but fun to play at the table. We made the right choice with what we went with. Essek’s just getting started, and Caleb doesn’t trust him entirely, because he was burned so hard not too long ago. He’s still more trustworthy than the other three. So it’s the better choice. While Caleb has all these ties on the other side, they’re really fucking dangerous. So if you have to choose, you choose Essek. But fuck that die.” Sam: “Veth, much like Sam Riegel, makes instant decisions about whether to trust someone or not and sticks to it forever. Astrid, 100% trust. Eodwulf, 100% distrust. Essek, completely distrust. I still don’t think he’s a good guy. Ikithon? Trust. 100%. Because you know where he’s coming forward, you know what he wants. I still want him dead, but I trust him.”

On Veth’s post-adventuring plans: “Veth is probably still too in it right now to think about what comes next. I, Sam Riegel, have a good idea of what I want Veth to do post-campaign.” Brian: “Maybe you shouldn’t tell us. Save it for the show!” Sam: “All she knows is she can’t do this anymore. It’s very unhealthy to be battle-wounded every other day. It’s fun for a while, but college has to end at some point, and she’s gotta go home.”

On Frumpkin changing appearance and returning to the Feywild: “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but the way it feels now for Caleb is that he feels too enmeshed in everything that has happened, and too much good has happened, and too much needs to happened, that that really narcissistic, selfish goal has the risk of harming everything else, which is more important. And that’s how he looks at it now. So he’s gearing towards letting everything from the beginning of the campaign, and where he started, go, and trying to figure out what use he’s going to be now and what he’s going to do if they’re not all dead. If Matt throws that shit down, I don’t know what I will do, I think about it a lot. But turning Frumpkin white and saying you’re free either way is him preparing to let go of everything he’s been holding on to for a really long time. He’s addicted to that idea that he can fix himself, and we’ll see if that hard choice gets presented, what he might do. But where he stands now, he doesn’t think that’s going to be reality, and he sees a way that he can be of use that he never really anticipated before, so he’s slowly shifting gears towards living with the pain he was trying to remove.”

On the last request scene and confidence heading into Aeor, Sam: “I feel like that’s a good request. I think all of us realized that if we die, that probably bodes badly for the world. I feel like all of us are at a point now as characters and as friends, that the first order of business would be to take care of everybody else’s shit, although we probably have different ideas of how to do that.” Liam: “I want the Empire to be healed, Caleb has all these memories of his parents and what they wanted for the world, and he wants that too. It’s clearly not in place now, the system needs to be broken and replaced. That could be a part of Caleb’s sunset. I don’t want Caleb to die, so maybe he can work on that after. As everything starts to shake out and we start heading towards our destiny, Caleb’s just free-floating. He’s not even going after the same thing he started for. So he’s looking at Veth’s family, and Luc specifically, and seeing that’s me, that’s a little boy in the Empire.”