#couldn't be bothered to write all those spells

[bones4thecats]

Their S/O Is Related To Their Enemy

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: Their S/O Is Related To Their Enemy Characters: Toffee of Septarsis, Bill Cipher, and Lord Hater Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: Much like with my Vivziepop pieces, I will have the species of the reader underneath their header images. I had no ideas for HIM since I couldn't find a good connection for a reader and him in the relation to the girls context. I hope you do like this first creation of mine! Have great rests of your nights/days!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Mewman! Reader ; Big Sibling of Moon Butterfly and Aunt of Star Butterfly

☄️ As the eldest child of Queen Comet Butterfly and Count Lazlo Marmalade of Lushreach, you were always held into high regards when it came to political affairs

☄️ While your parents mainly handled the more detailed affairs, you would watch over Moon as she aged. From looking over her when she was a toddler till when she grew old enough to organize herself into the many issues your kingdom faced

☄️ During those many years, you had held her hand throughout every single hardship that came her way. And you planned to hold her hand throughout this war that the Mewmans and Monsters faced

☄️ And even during these kind of dire situations, you always stayed strong to your family. But, when your mother and father decided to pass you up for your sister, saying she would fit better as the ruler, you snapped

☄️ You knew the only reason they chose her was because she was more like them; close minded on Monsters and Mewmans regaining trust in one another. While you were far more accepting and willing to work with the Monsters

☄️ Jumbling up all your stuff and jumped down from your room's window before sliding and sneaking outside with expect parkour practice, you landed by the woods and looked back at your sister's window, seeing the light turn off

" I am so sorry, Moon... but I cannot stay in such a corrupted land any longer... "

☄️ During your expedition to find some kind of Monster civilization, you had dodged many forced from your kingdom, each speaking of how your family needed you back home, much to your annoyance

☄️ It was during this travel that you came across an injured Septarsis, one that you learned the name of, Toffee. And, during your many years of living alongside one another, you shared your life stories, from your childhoods to your wishes, it was all out in the open to show your trust

☄️ Toffee wasn't very big on the royal family, viewing the abuse of power they held as illogical, and eventually viewing the magic they hold as overkill. But, for some weird reason, you didn't bother him

☄️ And he had to admit, watching the little offspring of his enemy Moon Butterfly look at you in shock as she tried fighting her blood made him smirk

" Uhm- Toffee? Why are you smiling at this? Isn't Y/N supposed to be just grabbing the wand and coming back here? " " Oh, you'll understand in a few seconds... "

☄️ Star was trying not to harm you, sending minor spells at you, trying to just knock you on your butt so she could just ask you why you had left and why you were siding with Ludo and the rest of his gang

☄️ Once she did, she was shocked to see that the markings on your cheeks, the ones that matched your mother's, but they were faded and covered with thin-lined x's

☄️ You then burst up and kicked the young girl away, bidding farewell as you pocked your cheek and stuck your tongue out mockingly before winking at where the camera laid for Toffee and the forces to see

" I-Is she...? " " I told you. You would find out soon... now! Y/N, I would like to congratulate you on retrieving such an important tool; Star's mistrust of her mother. Good job, my royal. "

☄️ Smirking at your husband, you pecked his cheek and looked at the boys as you handed Ludo a small portion of magic sealed from Star's wand, and just this amount would be good for now

☄️ Toffee then looked at your marks, which slightly glowed with magic... how troublesome could it be if that little brat got to your mind? He didn't want to even think of that...

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Human! Reader ; Older Cousin of Dipper and Mabel Pines (Early-30s)

👁️ Being only a baby when the incident occurred between your father, Stanford Pines, and your uncle, Stanley Pines, you had often questioned the point of why there were so many weird things happening in your small town

👁️ Gravity Falls always had small details that made no sense to you, and as you grew up being raised by your money-obsessed uncle, you had written these things down in a journal that you had numbered 4 with a hand-print that, by what your uncle said, was your father's

👁️ You always had these small visions growing up, from seeing some kind of weird gnomes around the woods to seeing a kind of large minotaurs (which were supposedly called 'MAN-otaurs for some reason?)

👁️ But none of those compared to the small triangle man that appeared in your dreams and would mess around with you from time to time as you grew older

👁️ And, when your little cousins, Dipper and Mabel Pines, had come by to spend the summer at the Mystery Shack with you and your uncle, these visions seemed to happen more often and get more and more vivid

👁️ This 'demon' has you labeled him, had been caught by you staring at your cousins as they slept for weeks, and because of the worry you felt for the two, you began to lose sleep, alarming your family and friends

👁️ Eventually, after being scolded by Stanley and having been forced by Mabel and Wendy to lay down for at least a couple hours, you had fallen into a deep rest as Mabel's pig, Waddles, laid beside you

👁️ You had awoken inside of a dark field, one that you had been in multiple times beforehand, and hearing the very light-sounding maniacal laughter of a triangle demon you called a 'friend', you turned around

👁️ A flaming yellow triangle appeared and allowed the 'one-eyed Dorito' as you called him to be summoned

👁️ He adjusted his bowtie and floated with his cane leaning against literal air as you groaned and motioned for him to come nearby, making him laugh and ask if you missed him

" Oh, I didn't miss you par say... I just missed doing THIS! "

👁️ Wrapping your arms around his frame you wrestled the three-sided demon into the grass and made him laugh at your actions, his arms and legs flaying about to try swatting you away without any use of his powers

👁️ Once you finally stopped wrestling the demon, or rather, stopped wrestling Bill, he had popped his hat of his head and began to ask you the questions you always said you had no comment on

" So, about the two flesh-bags your related too. " " You mean my cousins? Dipper and Mabel? " " Yeah! Pine Tree and Shooting Star! They've been getting far too close to my plans, and you know what happens to those who get too close. They go- "

👁️ Holding his palm up to the sky, he made a small figurine of an unknown man before lifting his opposite hand and smashing it, making a paint-like substance flay onto yours and his 'faces'

" SPLAT! And, I know how much you care about those life-forms. Now, since your father and uncle aren't in my reach anymore, I figured that you could talk to them about maybe taking a couple days off from monster-hunting, y'know, and allow me to work on this more~ " " Bill. We've talked about this once and we've talked about it a million times- " " Actually more like 7, but go on... " " A million times. Anyone with a somewhat functioning brain like Old Man McGucket's can notice how stubborn they- well, Dipper is on unraveling this town. It'd take a miracle to show him enough to get him to back away from his mission. " " Yeah, a miracle. Interesting point, human. "

👁️ Cocking an eyebrow and holding your hand out as if to grab something, Bill narrowed and widened his one eye largely as a small cat with silver hair and yellow highlights appeared in your hands, obviously with one eye that's colors were opposite (white <--> black)

👁️ Smiling and petting the demonic-looking feline, you looked back at Bill and held the cat as he made a ball of yarn to play with the animal, underneath his eye a small pink flush growing

👁️ You were by-far the most entertaining human he had ever met- even if you were related to that traitorous man you had to call your father

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Alien / Star-Nomad! Reader ; Wander's Older Sibling and Main Guardian

⚡ Your younger brother is a very energetic being, and if you were for certain, you'd call him the most energetic being in the whole Universe

⚡ You had spent most of your life watching over your brother as he and his friend, Sylvia, spread themselves around the many different worlds during their travels. With you being the one who had to get them out of many bad situations

⚡ But, a few years prior, you had given the two permission to travel on their own, meaning they could not afford to get into massive trouble since you wouldn't be there

⚡ They had been doing well as you traveled on your own, and during one of your more random leaps to another world, you had met a small eyeball with a tiny body who called himself 'Commander Peepers'

⚡ You had stared at the guy and cocked an eyebrow and heard a yell of Peeper's name, making you both look up in shock, though yours was hidden far better

" L-Lord Hater! To what do I owe the pleasure? " " You owe everything to this pleasure! Also, we're out of cheese dip. "

⚡ The cloaked man had looked up at you and lightly tilted his head before looking down at you and furrowing his eyebrows in both frustration and confusion

" Who is this, Peepers? " " I'm not sure myself, Sir. They had just appeared out of nowhere. " " You! Who are you?! " " I'm Y/N. Intergalactic Traveler. "

⚡ Lord Hater looked at you up and down, you looked like what the average Star-Nomad would appear, but you had a height advantage, maybe being a couple heads shorter than the Lord himself

⚡ You looked right back at him and scoffed lightly before asking him such a bold and broad question that not many would dare ask on that planet

" Why do you look like some kind of rock-emo with a deep voice? "

⚡ Commander Peepers looked at you in shock and back at Lord Hater, fear consuming his soul as he wondered one thing and one thing alone; How in the name of everything did you just ASK him that?!

⚡ Lord Hater began to chuckle and smirk at you, his skeleton eye glaring at you as they glowed lighter green in irritation

" Why do you look like some kind of wannabe villain? "

⚡ So, to sum it up, your first meeting wasn't the best one...

⚡ But, after a few more attempts to be civil to one another landed you a part as a new member of the Hater Army, your spot laying alongside Commander Peepers, though you were more of a spy than anything

⚡ And life was doing pretty well, you and Lord Hater had begun to court and try getting your traits to collide and mix well with your new lives together as Peepers had to keep you from snapping the hot-head's neck every week

⚡ When Wander, the brother that you had sent away, came back and found you alongside Lord Hater, his eyes sparkled; had you found someone that you loved like him?!

⚡ Sylvia and Hater do not get along at all, only putting up with one another for you and Wander, since they both knew how dear you guys were to one another

⚡ Commander Peepers and you always have to keep Hater from jumping up and trying to kill Wander for his antics, such as trying to play tag with him, resulting in you taking the day off and heading to a nearby planet

⚡ He and Wander see each other far differently

⚡ Wander adores your lover, whenever you ask him what he thinks of the Lord, he always laughs and gives you an honest and optimistic opinion as you smile and laugh at his small story of his last game with him

⚡ Hater on the other hand, does not share well things. Instead, it results in him whining about how annoying your younger brother was, and that turns into a sob story of a failed accomplishment, which led to him being curled in your lap with a large pink blanket around his frame

⚡ While they may not have the best bond, Hater can put up with your brother if it means you'll stay by his side. You're the best thing he had ever held to himself, alongside his planetary conquers of course!

[lecoindecachou]

Half the people who claim to have lost jobs "because they're pro-Palestine" didn't actually lose those jobs bc of Palestine at all...Like, I'm sorry but if you're even a little familiar with Amanda Seales then you know her reputation was shot to hell long before that and I'm willing to bet you if anything got her dropped by agents it was her bad fucking attitude and godawful personality. Edit bc I know nobody on tumblr has watched The Real since it doesn't involve straight white guys fucking each other but just look at the comment section from when she was co-hosting. Amanda was the worst host they ever had by far, she was just steamrolling everybody bc she loves the sound of her own voice so damn much. If I was her agent I'd have dropped her too.

Then there's Susan Sarandon, who everyone and their mother said was dropped by her agency for "supporting Palestine" and because tumblr can never be bothered to research anything they just bought it wholeheartedly when the truth is that she was dropped for her antisemitic remarks, that included, "There are a lot of people afraid of being Jewish at this time, and are getting a taste of what it feels like to be a Muslim in this country." Cause Jewish people have never been scared for their lives right? She also went on to share posts from Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters, who has been criticized over the years for his antisemitic remarks...But of course it's not as glamorous to be antisemitic trash as it is to be a crusader of freedom, eh, tumblr?

And then there's tumblr's favorite YA author, Xiran Jay Zhao, who's been claiming everywhere that their publishers are ghosting them "for being pro-Palestine" but also straight-up admitted that they missed their agreed-upon deadline for actually writing the book lol. That one is so obviously a cop-out I didn't think I'd have to spell it out for you but here we fucking are.

Must be nice to have Israel to blame for your own ineptitude huh. It couldn't be that you're losing jobs because you're either unprofessional or bigoted, oh no, it must be because Jewish people secretly control the world! Give me a freaking break.

[rottenherbs]

A Couple Firsts

Pairing: D.M x Reader Request: Maybe there’s an opportunity to slow dance somewhere, he puts out his hand and asks her to dance, but she is hesitant because she has never slow danced before. Maybe he can say something like “You just need a strong lead” and does just that. I just like gently taking control of the situation part, and I can see Draco doing that! W/C: 1.5k A/N: personally I did not spell check this. I am so exhausted LMAO but i had a fun time writing it. Also my requests are closed to finish the requests that are already in there!  [masterlist] Much love, Saige 

You and Draco had been together for a short period, each day full of firsts with each other. First time alone at Hogsmeade together. First breakfast in bed together. First late night in each other's dorms. First time sneaking out of class and kissing in the hall, unable to be away from each other for long periods of time. 

It felt like a dream with him. You were love struck, the idea of having someone to kiss, someone to hold, someone to talk to about anything. Your fears, your dreams, your passions. It was such an emotional outlet for both of you. The only thing was that Draco was your first boyfriend, you weren’t particularly his first girlfriend. 

That didn’t bother you; you were not the jealous type at all. Draco made sure to keep you secure in his love, his devotion to JUST you. It only was worrisome to yourself when those firsts happened and you had never done them before. 

The Yule ball was announced at the beginning of the year, happily taking the opportunity to flaunt his girl, Draco asked you extravagantly at the great hall. Balloons, a large bouquet, and little doves flying around. It was a little much, but you knew it came from his desire of flaunting wealth. Your Yule ball invite was definitely the biggest around and created a little hysteria. It wasn't his best trait but you couldn't help but feel special. 

The ball came closer and the preparation was more than you could’ve thought of. Draco's mother sent over a letter of your measurements and what colors you both were wearing in order to put in a custom gown with her personal tailor. You and the girls in your dorm did your nails together and helped each other with your hair. It was such a nice bonding moment for you all, happy to gawk and talk of who was taking who to the dance. 

As the moments passed, small butterflies began to swarm in your stomach, growing with each thought of the night. You had no clue where Draco was, if he was ready already, if he was as nervous as you were. You couldn't help but blush at the idea of such a romantic night.

Taking a final look in the mirror, you press down your dress, its amber beads shining off of the overhead lights, glimmering against your skin. 

I’m ready -  you thought to yourself, accepting that there was nothing to change, improve, or procrastinate with any longer. The time was ticking and you had to get out the door. Walking down the steps of your dormitory, your eyes scanned across the dimly lit common room, Slytherin students paired up and mingling together. 

You got to the bottom of the stairs, still unable to find your boyfriend before a strong pair of hands snuck their way around your waist, guiding you to a corner of the room.

”Don't you look ravishing.” Draco mumbled, his hands still firmly placed on your hips. He looked you up and down, placing a long soft kiss on your forehand. 

“You look pretty nice, all cleaned up.” You joked, brushing off fake crumbs from his lapel. He rolled his eyes playfully, his name being called from across the room directed his attention. 

“Oy, im busy!” His hand enveloped yours, shouting back across the room. He swatted the air, dismissing the student before turning back to you.

”Shall we?” He purred, extending his hand towards the door. 

“We shall.” You replied, smiling up at him. You both walked across the floor, Draco getting attention from almost anyone he passed, ignoring them completely and ushering you through the door. 

You walked together in silence, bodies as close as possible to each other, traversing up several flights of stairs together, audibly out of breath once you both arrived at the great hall, making each other laugh with whatever lung capacity you both had left. 

Being fashionably late, you were both able to slip into the dance after the ceremony, the music already blaring. Looking into Draco eyes you smiled, pulling him quickly onto the dance floor, his body loosely following you. 

The night flowed easily, the songs upbeat and tiring you both after a while. Slightly sweaty and out of breath, you both left the dance floor, itching for a break. Guiding you to an empty table, pulling out a chair for you. Taking a seat, Draco held your hand, leaning in to your ear to make sure you could hear over the noise.

”I’m going to get a drink for us darling. Stay here. If anyone bothers you ill be back in just a minute.” He kissed your cheek, turning away and falling back around the large crowd of students. The music was deafening, unable to hear much of anything except the live band at the front of the stage. 

You couldn't help but people watch, many students not being familiar to you. Tall boys and girls jumped to the beat of the music, different types of wizards and witches all together. You felt like the school house rivelry was on break, everyone’s colors now meshed into one. Over to the right of the stage was a few professors, awkwardly bounding on their heels to the music, watching the students like hawks. 

Like on que, you looked around for Draco, his bright glossy hair peeking out from the corner coming back to you, his hands holding two chalices of punch, smiling from ear to ear. 

“I hope you didn’t get lonesome.” He shouted, placing down the cup in front of you, its glittery contents swishing around invitingly. You picked it up, taking a large gulp, the icy drink flowing down your throat and cooling you immediately. 

“Thank you” You mouthed to Draco, unwilling to shout across the music. He smiled, taking a sip from his own cup, his eyes not leaving your face. The music slowly died out, the students in the crowd hooping and hollering with excitement. It had to have been around 9pm, wishing for the night to slow and more of a relaxing song to play to change the pace. 

Like you wished, a small violin began cascading around the great hall, its slow song pushing some students out of the crowd and inviting in many who have been waiting all night. Draco set his cup down, grabbing your hand quickly, happy for the opportunity to hold you close. Nerves hit your stomach as he grabbed you, suddenly realizing you’ve never slow danced, the steps more intricate, more thoughtful. You were clumsy and cranky, perfect for a large group setting, but the lack of students on the floor really opened up for scrutinization and attention. 

Draco tugged lightly, pouting down at you.

”I’m… nervous.” You mouth up to him, his eyes soften, pulling you up from your chair. Reluctantly you followed, knowing you would kill to have had your first slow dance, but the act grew an ache in your stomach. 

Finding a place on the floor, Draco directed your hands to his body, pulling you close, his head now next to yours. 

“Let me lead.” He whispered sultry into your ear, the hair on your neck standing up, happily shielding your warming cheeks with your hair, setting your chin on his chest. The song picked up slightly, Draco’s feet pulling and encouraging you to follow, only stumbling a few times before catching onto the pattern. 

“Left, right, left.” He’d whisper every once in a while, noticing your concentration. 

You realized after a while you weren’t thinking about anyone else, just you and Draco. No matter what would be said about you tripping, or how weirdly you danced, you'd only remember this moment. How he held you tightly and brought you around the floor easily. 

The song ended, but started another slow song. Now more confident in your abilities, you leaned back and smiled at Draco, your eyes sparkling under the hanging icicles above. He leaned down, kissing you passionately as the song swelled. Your feet moved in small spurts, but your lips did not part from each other. You both attempted to hold each other for as long as possible, knowing any moment you'd be interrupted. 

“MALFOY” Professor McGonagall shouted, immediately breaking the kiss purely out of fear. She was still in the corner, but her squinting eyes made you both cower slightly, your head hitting his chest laughing deeply into it. 

“First time getting caught kissing eh?” He laughed 

[sulumuns-dootah]

WHB characters meeting their Obey Me! counterparts pt.2

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Asmodeus is finally back in Hell and I'm finally able to make the second part to THIS post! I also included some more characters so it's not just the two leftover kings ^^

The scenario is still the same with OM!Solomon's spell going wrong and interconnecting the universes together

      ༺☆༻

Asmodeus

Okay, OM!Asmodeus has two reactions:

"Ooh? Such a brave outfit! And those thorns are so pretty!"

but then after a few seconds after he catches a whiff of the smell, he's about ready to die

If he manages to overcome this difficulty, they'd get along pretty well

WHB!Asmodeus doesn't really react... He does recognise OM!Asmodeus as another version of him and that's about it

Oh, but once they get to talking, you can rest assured that WHB!Asmodeus is pulling out the baby pics like the proud father of his little halfling army that he is

OM!Asmodeus' followers can also expect getting their timeline spammed with photos of these two because he just wants to commemorate this meeting as much as he can

      ༺☆༻

Belphegor

Depending on the time of day, both Belphies wouldn't even notice bc they're snoozin' the day away

But let's say they both happen to be awake at the same time

The first thing OM!Belphegor notices is the amount of piercings on WHB!Belphegor

Those must've been a pain to sleep with while they're healing

Also, once he finds out that WHB!Belphegor doesn't have to do anything and has people do everything for him, he's kinda jealous

WHB!Belphegor is kinda surprised to find out that another him is twins with Beelzebub

They're almost exact opposites, or not?

If their talk steers to the whole OM!Belphegor locked up in an attic thing, WHB!Belphegor will be kinda mad on his behalf, but secretly wish he was there so nobody'll bother him

A cute concept though: OM!Lucifer finally finds these two after dealing with the rest of brothers and sees them sleeping curled up together

OM!Belphegor curled up to WHB!Belphegor who's holding him like the bigger spoon

      ༺☆༻

Raphael

At a first glance, you'd think these couldn't be any further from each other, but don't let the look of OM!Raphael fool you

WHB!Raphael was quick to see through OM!Raphael's facade of cool and calm demeanor

OM!Raphael's critical eye immediately notices all the bandages on WHB!Raphael, but he chooses not to comment on it for now

...Somehow, he did not notice the blood splatters on WHB!Raphael's clothes, though?

Out of all the rooms with our guys seeing their counterparts, this is the one I'd like to be the least in

WHB!Raphael is a bit cuckoo and doesn't mind challenging his other self

And OM!Lucifer can't stop this from happening so, honestly, R.I.P.

There are no winners or losers

They fight until the whole thing is resolved and after that, the room is filled with OM!Raphael's spears and dead angels WHB!Raphael spawned in

      ༺☆༻

Michael

WHB!Michael at first thought he's just in a room with some other angel he didn't recognise

Until OM!Michael didn't speak up, that is

"I see, so this is me..."

"Wait, what tf do you mean me being you? You dare to think you're my equal?!"

WHB!Michael's short fuse is something that does surprise OM!Michael, but who doesn't have their quirks, right?

If OM!Michael manages to avoid triggering WHB!Michael, they could get along for the time being

Still, WHB!Michael doesn't want to believe there could be other version of him, so he suspects every action and word OM!Michael says

Afterwards, OM!Michael might even write a poem about their meeting

      ༺☆༻

Ppyong & Little D.

New besties for life alert!

These two little blob-demons instantly click and start sharing stories of their respective version of Hell

Don't tell Minhyeok, but Ppyong even forgets about him for a second

I'm not sure if Little D.s eat actual food, but I imagine that if Ppyong mentions how good sweets are, Little D. would tell other D.s about it and OM!Barbatos would get a heart-attack thinking rats got into his kitchen

But nope

Just a few curious mini demons, who heard that chocolate and other food is actually delicious

Oh, and if Ppyong is able to transform into Juno, I'm sure he'd do it just to flex on Little D.

Yes, Little D. gets jealous and once he's back, he's begging anyone and everyone to be able to do the same thing

Overall, these two are super adorable, and Ppyong is kinda like the older, cooler brother of Little D.

      ༺☆༻

Solomon

Two idiots trying to come up with a fix to the whole situation

(That was my initial note for how these two seeing each other would go and I'm keeping it :D)

Picture this: The room and everything is on fire, OM!Solomon's running around, trying to take the flames out and finish the spell that will undo his mesed up spell

WHB!Solomon is just louging on a sofa, unbothered by the whole commotion

Occasionally flirting with OM!Solomon

"Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?"

"There's fire everywhere."

"I've noticed"

"Are you gonna help me do something about this?"

"No~"

OM!Solomon knows OM!Lucifer will now hold this little mistake over his head for the next few centuries

There goes his chance to get a contract with him :/

      ༺☆༻

I also had an idea about writing the other demons meeting someone they have stuff in common with(Simeon&Gabriel, Cerberus&Naberius, Diavolo&All kings,...) but decided to not add it to this post, though if anyone wants that too, lmk ^^

[talesofesther]

the one who stayed

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: For a moment, Sebastian thought he lost you, and now the guilt for what happened is eating away at him.

A/N: Yes, this is very random. I debated a lot on whether to even post this here or not, but, this Tumblr is, before anything else, a library for me to store my own works. I post everything I write here, so I figured this one shouldn't be the exception because I did like how it turned out.

Masterlist

Cold. That was all your brain could register at the moment; how the ground felt so cold underneath you.

"She's not moving."

You could hear a familiar, urgent voice right beside you. But as the seconds slowly trickled by like blood dripping from an open wound, it became increasingly hard for you to understand what exactly that voice was saying. Yet you could still register the fear laced within the tone, you could feel it in the shakiness of his hold.

Trembling hands held onto your arm, one of them slowly brushing against your skin until it found your hand.

You wished you could see his face right now. Sebastian had always been bold, confident. Though you were almost certain there would be a faint blush hidden under his freckles right now because of the intimate gesture.

But your eyes were heavy. Try as you might, you couldn't seem to blink them open. Come to think of it, your whole body felt heavy, maybe that's why you couldn't move. Even breathing was slowly turning into too much effort.

The hand holding onto your own tightened its grip.

People were talking around you. You couldn't make out any words anymore, they sounded like nothing but faint noise. The tune of his voice still kissed your ears, however; even if you couldn't recognize the words, you knew it was him. And he sounded erratic, scared. There was a tightness to it, syllables getting stuck in his throat; it was all wrong, you didn't like to hear him in this state.

A deeper voice was there too — you instantly recognized the timbre that belonged to the man who was always crushing Sebastian's hopes — and in the back of your mind, it brought anger to your chest. But there was nothing you could do anymore. Wisps of remaining magic tingled on the tip of your fingers and held your heart in a tight, hurtful grip. Maybe you'd gone too far.

A pair of rough hands then picked up your body, taking you away from the cold embrace of the catacomb's floor.

And when the blood dripping from your nose reached your lips, coating your tongue with a metallic taste, you realized that maybe you did go too far after all. Part of you could already hear the keepers berating you for rushing your abilities.

Consciousness slipped from your grasp shortly after that. Your head falling limp against someone's shoulder, and feeling a hand still holding onto yours.

—

Hogwarts' hospital wing was pretty quiet most days, only with the usual first year who scraped their elbow falling from a broom or suffering the effects of a spell gone slightly wrong. They never stayed for long though, nurse Blainey was all too used to these types of encounters.

Yet every now and then, one of the beds stays occupied for a longer period of time.

There were several beds — their metal frame and pale sheets doing little to ease the hospital vibe — one beside the other on each side of the spacious room.

You were glad to be put on one which stayed further away from the main doors; it made for more calmness this way. You had no need to engage with the unfortunate first years and could focus on leaning back and feeling the soft wisps of sunlight kissing your skin from the high window behind you.

It bothers you that you can't exactly remember how you got here. The nurse hadn't filled you with much information either; she told you an older man had brought you in, talking about a casting exercise gone wrong and you overworking yourself; she also said you remained unconscious for about 15 hours before finally waking up — pale, weak, confused.

Most of those feelings still crawled under your skin. Your body is still feeling 10 times heavier than it actually was. You wanted to get up and run off to find Sebastian but you had a nagging sensation that, if you did so now, you'd fall face-first on the floor.

The fabric of the thin blanket draped over you felt soft as you worried it between your fingers, nearly tearing it apart. The last thing you remembered was being in the catacombs, with Sebastian, and wanting to do nothing but protect him — both from himself and his uncle.

His uncle.

Could it be that he was the one who actually brought you back to school?

You doubted Sebastian would have the strength to carry you all the way back here — as much as he might fight you on that argument.

Running a hand through your hair, you pulled at the roots. Your frustration escaped with a long sigh.

The old floorboards creaked under a new weight. At first, you assumed it would be nurse Blainey coming back to check on you. But, from the side of your eye, you caught a glimpse of green, and your heart fought against your ribs, trying to escape your chest.

Sebastian stood a few feet away from your bed, though you could hardly recognize him. The brown locks of his hair were all over the place, way messier than usual; his eyes had a red tint to them, mixed with dark circles of someone who hasn't slept in a while; his usual grin was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with a pained frown; his hands held onto his robes with a death grip.

"I heard you were awake."

His voice didn't sound like the one you had grown to love.

"How are you feeling?" The question stumbled past his lips and he avoided your eyes shortly after. He sounded as if you would yell at him to leave at any moment. It only got you more confused.

"Better, a little weak still," you bit at the inside of your cheek. This moment shouldn't feel as fragile as it does. "Care to tell me what happened?"

You didn't think your tone was harsh, but Sebastian flinched at your voice anyway. Bad memories washed over him like a bucket of icy water.

He met your gaze before hesitantly closing the distance between you, choosing to sit at the edge of your bed.

He looked worse up close. Eyes distant, trapped elsewhere.

"We were fighting against my uncle and the-" Sebastian gulped, guilt squeezing at his throat like barbed wire, "the inferi."

You acknowledged his words with a soft nod, slowly remembering things as he spoke. You pushed yourself up to sit straighter, just a couple of inches closer to Sebastian. He looked like he needed it.

The words lingered on his tongue. You never thought you'd see him this way; hesitant, lost, regretful. With tears on the verge of spilling over his freckled cheeks.

"You were trying to reason with my uncle; and me, for that matter," Sebastian chuckled halfheartedly, "trying to stop us from killing each other, when the inferi started to close on us. You didn't think twice, and all I saw were lighting strikes coming through the ceiling of the catacomb, destroying everything but us, and… you laying on the floor afterwards."

Memories were clearer now. Sebastian had attacked his uncle after he destroyed the relic and they started exchanging spells at each other while the inferi slipped from Sebastian's control. Everything could go very bad, very quickly. You remembered trying to speak with them, make them see past the anger clouding their judgment. But it was to no avail. What you remember the most, however, was seeing Sebastian so focused on his uncle, and unaware of the mass of inferi coming towards him.

You really hadn't thought twice at all. Ancient magic flowed through your veins like wildfire; it was all you could feel. The rumbling of thunder became your heartbeat. You killed each and every one of the creatures, burning out all of your energy in the process.

"And what of Solomon?" You found yourself wondering.

Sebastian pursed his lips. His eyebrows scrunched slightly as his body tensed for a moment and then relaxed again. "We stopped fighting as soon as I ran up to you. I- I begged that he'd help me bring you back to school. I'm not sure where he is now." His body shook with each intake of air. "Or Anne."

"Well, guess my plan worked after all. At least I got you to stop fighting," you tried to lighten the heavy air around you and Sebastian, mustering a teasing grin as you tilted your head to try and catch a glimpse of his eyes.

Sebastian worried his lower lip between his teeth to keep it from quivering. There was no witty remark, no ironic comment. Nothing. His tears were one blink away from spilling over.

Maybe if you listened closely, you'd be able to hear your heart shattering. For him. For this broken boy barely holding the last pieces of himself together in front of you, for this boy who stood so desperately alone in the world.

You reached out, your hand closing tightly around Sebastian's — because you couldn't bare seeing him alone one second more. Your thumb brushed against his skin. You could feel his trembling. "We'll find him, and Anne. I promise we'll figure things out, Sebastian."

He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking, squeezing his eyes shut and causing a single tear to roll down his cheek. "No, you don't understand," his broken words fell from his lips at the same time he pulled away from your touch.

"I never-" Sebastian stood up then, choking on his own breathing as he looked at you with a mix of longing and anguish. "It was never my intention to hurt you… I'm sorry," he whispered, so quietly that if the hospital wing wasn't as empty as it is, you would've missed it.

"Sebastian, you didn't-" you cut yourself off when he abruptly turned away from you and started marching towards the main doors of the spacious room, putting as much distance between you and him as he could.

The fatigue still gripping at your muscles was the last thing on your mind when you threw away the covers and stood — albeit on shaky legs — to go after him. "Sebastian, please wait," you called, grimacing as he took your heart with him.

Ultimately, you didn't go very far. Nurse Blainey stopped you in your tracks before you could even reach the middle of the room.

—

The sun rays shining through the tall stained glass windows were warm against your skin, doing little to help with your current sleepy state as you tried to at least pretend to be paying attention to class.

"It's been nearly a week, Ominis." You groaned, folding your arms on top of the table so you could lay your head down, "do you think he's mad at me for trying to stop him?"

The boy sitting beside you chuckled quietly, twirling his wand in his hands. "Darling, I don't think Sebastian could be mad at you even if he wanted to."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, Professor Binns walked by a little too close for comfort; his ghostly form sending a shiver down your body.

"He's been spending most of his evenings hiding away in the Undercroft," Ominis felt around on the table until his fingers brushed the fabric of your robes, he gently closed his hand around your wrist and squeezed comfortingly. "I believe it would do both of you some good if you went to see him."

—

It was mostly dark out already. The sky slowly filled with stars as night settled in and a soft cold breeze hung around the DADA hallways. The pristine floors reflected the image of your shoes, pacing back and forth restlessly.

You were having second thoughts. Apprehension tugged at your heartstrings because as much as you didn't want to admit it, the sight of Sebastian walking away from you so desperately that day had stung.

Though no matter how much you stalled, you knew you'd relent. The sleepless nights you've been going through lately are enough of a telltale of the effect Sebastian has on you.

A deep breath filled your lungs and you closed your eyes, pleading for your heartbeat to settle as you pushed open the door to the Undercroft.

The familiar warmth hugged you instantly. All of the candlelights dimly shining against the stone walls forced away the frown that clung to your brows. You'd never blamed Ominis for being so protective of this place, it really was the perfect hideaway.

You found Sebastian pretty quickly. He sat on the floor against the far wall to your right, knees tucked close to his chest as his wand moved delicately, making a paper bird flap its wings and fly around in front of him. The bird fell limply to the floor when Sebastian's eyes landed on you, however. You thought you saw him gulp and straighten his back too, but other than that, the Slytherin boy expressed no other reaction upon seeing you. It felt almost as if he was expecting your arrival.

Your feet were momentarily frozen to the stone floor, Sebastian's gaze burning through your soul. You also couldn't help but notice how lonely he looked, just sitting there by himself; it made your stomach turn unpleasantly. You wondered if he considered himself deserving of it.

It was as if you spoke with your eyes for a beat. You saying that if he wanted you to leave, you would. And Sebastian pleading for you to stay.

All that could be heard were your steps echoing through the Undercroft as you carefully came to sit beside him. Your shoulder just shy of touching his.

The silence wasn't a comfortable one, but it also wasn't awkward. It was just heavy. There was a tension in the air that none of you knew how to address.

Sebastian's knuckles were white around his wand, he sat stiff beside you, not once glancing your way.

You figured that if you didn't speak, you'd be sitting in silence for hours. You glanced down at the paper bird that lay discarded on the floor, your lips quirking up just slightly as you picked it up; "you know, my mother taught me how to make these when I was younger. Without magic, that is." You chuckled. You rarely spoke about your parents, it was a sensitive topic. But it was your way of trying to make Sebastian feel more comfortable to share what he was feeling with you; what was bothering him.

"I used to get rather frustrated when I couldn't get it right the first times," you gently inspected the small bird with your fingers, thumbs running along the smooth white paper, "but she'd always tell me to take a breath, count to five, and start again."

With your eyes fixed on the paper bird in your hands, you didn't notice Sebastian's eyes fixed on your profile. The grip on his wand loosened slightly as he committed every detail of you to memory.

A shiver ran down your back when you finally turned your head to face him again. He was close, your breaths mingling as the lines of your relationship blurred and burned with the candles.

"Sebastian…" You breathed, watching the way his eyes darted to your lips and back to your eyes, "about what happened at the catacombs, I'm-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry." He cut you off suddenly, voice quiet and a little choked, but firm.

"I am, though," you leaned your head back against the stone wall, involuntarily leaning closer to him as your body gravitated to his warmth. "I'm sorry things didn't go as planned, but I promise we're not gonna stop looking for anything else that might help Anne."

Sebastian averted his gaze from you, furrowing his brows. You saw tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of his eyes, despite his efforts to hide them. "Stop it," he mumbled.

You shifted in your seat, your jaw set tightly in place. The beats of your heart against your chest were painful. The thought of Sebastian distancing himself from you was painful. So much so that you fear you'd be willing to do anything to fix it, within reason or not.

"I mean it, Sebastian, I will do anything-"

"Stop it! You don't get it, do you?" He snapped, his eyes burning into yours again and shining under the candlelights. "I saw you laying on the floor of that damned catacomb and I thought you were dead!" The syllables broke and stuttered past his lips, the pain and fear he felt that day came back in waves and twisted his expression.

You were stunned to silence, watching as Sebastian opened his mouth, lower lip trembling as he searched for his voice again.

"Do you have any idea of what that felt like?" He whispered, words strangled and squeezing his chest until he had trouble breathing. You were nothing but a blur in front of him. Sebastian pursed his lips to try and keep himself from breaking. Speaking it out loud somehow felt like making it real. "I thought I'd just lost you, and… and it would be my fault."

The feeling of your gentle thumb carefully brushing against his cheek brought Sebastian back to reality, and he realized his tears were already dripping down his chin.

"I would never blame you for what happened," you shook your head, smiling sadly as you felt your own eyes sting, "you were just trying to help your sister, when everyone else had given up."

"I will cure Anne… but not at the expense of you," in some ways, he looked surprised at his own words; at the truthfulness of them. He gulped back a sob, "I thought I could control it," Sebastian breathed in sharply, avoiding your gaze but leaning into your touch, "I went too far, as Ominis has probably told you a thousand times already."

You chuckled softly, sneaking your fingers over his jaw and until they disappeared between the brown locks of his hair. Sebastian closed his eyes briefly at your comforting touch, allowing himself to melt against you. "He's more understanding than you give him credit for," you smiled.

That got half a smile out of Sebastian, his freckles highlighted by the candles around you. His hand inched closer to your free one resting on your lap, the tip of his fingers timidly closing around yours, craving more of you. His pupils were blown wide when he finally looked up at you again.

"I promise to never do anything this reckless again." His low tone left no room for doubt.

You leaned in slightly, feeling his fringe tickle your forehead. You thought you heard him trying to suppress a gasp, but maybe it was your foggy mind playing tricks on you.

There was a glint in his eyes you'd never seen before, still shining with remains of his emotions; but vulnerable, calm, loving.

"I am quite fond of your reckless side, though."

Your unexpected words brought an endearing blush across Sebastian's freckles. You felt the shape of his teasing grin when his lips touched yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Sebastian’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[taesanluv3r]

almost twenty

kim woonhak x reader

non-idol woonhak and reader anxiously holding onto their disappearing youth. kind of emotional, esp if youre aged 17-19, might make u cry (i did while writing it) idk. this fic is dedicated to everyone who's worrying so much abt the future (me) it'll get better i promise (telling myself this). lowercase intended. pls ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. enjoyy

wc: 2,365

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"so...have you heard back from any of the colleges yet?"

her mother's simple question alone was enough to ruin yn ln's whole afternoon. normally, it wouldn't piss her off that much at all, but the fact that she's heard the exact same words come out from the woman's mouth about a billion times this week alone was just the thing to fully pull on her veins. "i told you a million times already, mom!" she shouted, abruptly- and angrily- standing up from her seat at the dining table. "the schools will get back to me in two weeks. i just applied like two days ago! god..."

"...do you ever listen?"

the answer is no. what kind of parents were understanding enough to listen to their teenage daughter? in fact, what kind of adult would ever understand the way their kids, regardless of age, felt? maybe out there somewhere there was a family that were healthy enough to get each other that way. maybe out there somewhere an adult was caring enough to relate a little.

"tsk...yeah right...fat chance"

yn groans as she slumps belly first onto her bed. she turns over to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. her eyes almost water as they scan her surroundings. the glow-in-the-dark stars that decorated her walls, the baby-pink chair she had out-grown years ago, and the collection of stuffed animals that snuggled comfortably in the very corner of her bed-room; memories of the trajectory of her own life- well, the life she had up until right now, up until this awkward stage between teenage youth and adulthood.

she sighs as she gets up again, her fingers tracing against the gold medals that sat atop the floral wallpaper. she giggles, looking through every old photo inside each frame placed on her shelf. one of little yn holding up three gold medals, little yn with a big toothy grin only half the size of the cotton candy in her tiny hands, a slightly older yn when she had graduated elementary school, and one last image of a smiley middle-school yn, hands happily intertwined with her closest friend, kim woonhak.

the girl stops to stare at all her belongings a little longer. in just two more weeks she'd be hearing back from at least one of the colleges she had applied to. in just two weeks all of these things that surrounded her would be stuffed into a card-board box, somewhere far away from her sight. a sick feeling forms in the pit of her stomach. it's bittersweet. sure, she'd finally be free from the so-called shackles of her parents' constant nagging, finally having a life of her own...but at the same time, yn just couldn't help all the doubts that constantly clouded up her mind, those thoughts that made the sunny days look gloomy through her eyes.

she swears she might just start crying. not that it's anything new, the stress that comes forth from being on the verge of twenty always seemed to push a lever in the tear-making department in her eyes. she's interrupted this time though, by the unnecessarily loud ping of her phone. 'who could possibly be texting me now...'

'woon-not so-agi'

the contact name alone allows a little laugh to escape the girl's lips as she swipes her fingers against the screen to open his message.

where u at?? you aren't flaking on me are u????

his texts confuse her for just a moment, she had no clue what he was talking about.

hellooooo? don't tell me u forgot? we're supposed to meet at the tree remember?? hurry uppppppppp im not waiting long >:(

"shit is it 7pm already?!" without any more fuss, yn rushes to throw on her sweater. she doesn't bother to bid goodbye to her parents before she runs out the door- she's still upset at them, of course. the girl hastily climbs onto her bicycle, her legs pedaling the fastest they ever had. in almost no time, she arrives at the boy's backyard.

"what took you so long?" a male voice calls out from the top of the tree, woonhak's head peaking out from the wooden structure that sat between the branches. yn points a finger up at the air, signaling for him to wait for a second as she catches her breath. she could hear him laugh, followed by the rustling of leaves as a gust of wind flew by. "hurry and get up here" he said impatiently, prompting her to roll her eyes as she began to climb up the wooden ladder.

"finally" the boy said, smiling stupidly as the girl took a seat beside him on the tree-house-like space. it was a flat piece of wood, decorated with acrylic paints and a couple old throw pillows that his dad had installed for them on the tall tree in their backyard. they were about six years old then, just two little kids begging their parents every single day for a 'super ultimate tree-house' to pose as their 'super-spy head-quarters' on their silly playdates, having no clue that their favourite playing spot would hold the same purpose years later in their teens.

"what's up with you?" the boy's voice shakes yn out of the trance she didn't know she was in. "huh?" he laughs again, "you always look like you're about to jump off this tree" woonhak teases, and usually she'd tease back. usually, she'd say something too witty for him to understand, dying of laughter by herself while he sat there confused. that wasn't the case today though, instead, she stayed quiet, only the slightest smile on her lips.

in an instant, his face softened. "hey..." he began, shifting the weight away from his hands to lightly tap at her shoulders. his grip tightened, adding a bit of force to turn her around so they were face to face. "there really is something wrong, isn't there?" yn couldn't bring herself to answer properly, only a whimper of sorts coming out from her mouth- the quietest of noise before that lever inside of her eyes came loose.

"yn...what's wrong?" woonhak asked again, catching her body in his arms when she fell towards him, incasing her in his warmth. "i..." she manages to muster out, her voice muffled from the fabric of his baby-blue sweater. "...i don't know...i just..." once more, the words in her head failed to solidify, all her thoughts coming out as silent cries. he doesn't force her to speak anymore, just holding her tightly, rocking back and forth as if he were comforting a teen-sized baby.

it takes about half an hour for yn to gather herself and her thoughts up again. she had removed herself of woonhak's embrace, sitting straight up beside him. the shadow of their swinging feet moved with the grass below them, the afternoon sky creating a blue-ish tint and painting the scene like a movie. just the right atmosphere for the boy to open his ears up, all for her voice to enter right in.

"i just don't get it. i don't get why they keep pressuring me with all these questions! when are you going to college? you should start packing, have you found a dorm yet? have you found a job yet? when will you get your license? i just...it's just too much- it's like..." she momentarily stops her speech-like dialogue to think of the right adjectives. "like it's all going so fast? like they're rushing you?" woonhak completes the sentences for her, his eyebrows furrowing when she nods in agreement.

"exactly" yn says, bringing one leg up to rest her chin on her knee. "it's just so stressful...i guess i just can't believe it's all happening- i mean..." she picks up her speaking space, perhaps to stop herself from letting the tears take over again. "in two weeks we'll hear from those colleges...then we'll have to move and then start a whole new life and what if we don't end up in the same place? what if we lose contact? what if everything i've lived the past years of my life for..." her voice cracks and she pauses for a moment to look at the boy beside her.

"...what if it doesn't work out? what if it just all goes to waste?"

the water that had begun to well up in her eyes were a clear image in front of him now, only prompting him to start to tear up himself. their gazes lingered on each other for a moment, the vulnerability of it all crashing against the two teenagers like it had fallen straight from the sky.

"i get it" woonhak says, trying his best to stop himself from bawling like a baby- even if it meant breaking eye-contact with the girl and staring all too seriously at the leaves above him. "ah, being our age is so hard!" he yells this time, falling backwards to lay down on the wooden surface. his hands slapped over his face, the mere thought of the pair's coming adulthood far too frustrating for him. his slight temper-tantrum made her smile for the first time that afternoon- i mean, fully smile.

something about the boy's childish nature comforted her. like despite all these worries and all the stress about their coming twenties, whenever they were together they still had that little bit of youth to grab onto.

"hey...you're smiling again" she nods at his observation, moving to lay down on her back right next to him. yn lets out a sigh, watching as a flock of birds migrated over the skies above them. "yn?" woonhak calls out and the girl hums in response, turning her head over to face him. the boy's eyes are shiny and bright, despite the fact that the sun was long gone. she's confused when he moves to sit up again, but never breaking eye-contact.

"can you promise me something?"

she sits up with him now, nodding along with his words. "promise what?" her words are quick, like she didn't have any more time left in the world. "that when we're away in college, even if we get too busy with whatever twenty year olds do, even if we barely have any time on our hands anymore..." his voice starts to shake, eyes begin to water all over again. "promise me we'll never lose contact. promise me we'll still talk every chance we get? please?" the weakness displayed on his face, a kind of look she had never ever seen on the boy before this very moment. he fully expected her to cry as well, to breakdown into tears as they hugged for the rest of the night. she didn't though, instead the girl broke into a small fit of laughter.

"what...why are you laughing?!" a massive frown decorated his complexion, tears streaming down both sides of his face. "oh, woonhak..." yn says, a smile on her lips as her hands moved up to cup his cheeks, beginning to wipe away his tears. "you're so stupid..." the boy furrows his eyebrows, "you can't seriously be bullying me in the middle of this right now-" he's cut off when her pointer finger presses against his mouth. "no, you idiot. i'm just saying you're so stupid if you think i'd ever be able to survive my twenties without texting and calling you every chance i get!"

his mouth opens to form an 'O' shape. she lets out a giggle and his own one follows. yn lets out a deep breath, "i'd be way too lonely without you, woonhak" the boy smiles, "yeah, you've got like no other friends anyways- ow!" he exclaims, rubbing the spot on his shoulder she had slapped. "meanie" her baby-like language only makes him roll his eyes, "how are you almost twenty and still calling people meanie?" yn pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. "i only call you that...and only cause its the truth!" woonhak laughs once more before suddenly pulling her into his chest, she squeals at the sudden force sending them to lay down flat on the tree-house structure again.

they stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms under the shade of their comfort place. "i wish we could stay almost-twenty forever..." yn says through a sigh. woonhak nods, a hand stroking through her hair. "yeah...i wish time froze at age nineteen or something...like at nineteen point nine nine" her eyebrows knit together, "nineteen point nine nine?" he nods again, "yeah, like the ultimate teenager" the girl laughs, hiding her face against his side.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" - "but where would you be without me, yn?" she agrees with him, "you're right...life would be so terrible without you- even if you're the dumbest person i know..." he rolls his eyes. "hey, yn?" - "yeah?"

"you know...later if we're away from each other, please call me. call me all the time. call me if you're bored, call me if you're happy, call me when you're sad, when you're stressed, and please..." the boy trails off, sitting up again and grabbing the girl's hands to pull her up with him. he stared deeply into her eyes, and she did the same as she bit on her bottom lip.

"please call me if you're lonely...promise?"

she nods quickly, "of course. i promise" the pair melt into each other as they hugged once more, the blue sky had darkened and the bright moon watched over them from the cracks between the branches of the tree. "thank you..." kim woonhak says, separating from her grasp. "for what?" yn ln wonders, tilting her head off to the side in confusion.

"for spending the rest of our youth with me"

just like that, yn's worries and all her anxiety flew out the window. in a time like this one, when it feels like their teenage years are disappearing far too quickly, when no one around them seemed to understand, when they've become all too sensitive to the concept of change...at least they've got each other to seek comfort. an everlasting youth whenever it was just the two of them. as though time had frozen and they were stuck in the in-between...

at 19.99.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

aaa i cried while writing and proofreading this TT 19.99 coming out the same time ive been the most stressed abt future-related stuff, the album is so amazing and relatable! its very precious to me, dont forget to stream!! ily bonedo, ily woonhak, ily readers! here's to growing up together <3 tysm for reading. love, kona.

[satyricplotter]

time lapse (you're always at the same place, looking the same)

pairing: tim drake x reader (kept gn, one use of they pronoun) word count: 2,804 words lol rating: gen notes: i finished writing this five minutes ago and im not gonna edit it :p i also wanted to make this WAY angstier which... i might stlll do... if i ever continue this... anyway, title from this song by miss never married but divorced three times kim taeyeon. used this map for the metro, and this map for the districts.

while working a case, tim runs into an old ex. not that he notices.

.

tim can sense the approach before the hand wraps around the back of the only other chair available. he doesn't look up —vainly hopes you're only here to grab the chair and pull it toward one of the very empty tables. who knows? maybe you just need an odd number of chairs to feel comfortable.

of course, he is not so lucky. you clear your throat, call his attention.

"hello, stranger," you say, voice wavering at the end.

he looks up, resigned to lose a few more minutes of his precious time. it's not your fault that tim's feeling so irritated right now. sleepless night after sleepless night pouring over this case have dragged him out to this café at a monstrous hour of the morning because he couldn't stand staring at the four walls of his bedroom knowing he's been getting nowhere. he's not getting anywhere here either, but at least the brew's better.

really, any other time, tim might've entertained it. straightened and smiled charmingly, gestured for you to sit, paid for a treat on top of the coffee you're carrying. you look very sweet and nervous—white-knuckling the back of the chair, smile straining but firm—which he likes. easy to unnerve, but with a spine. just his type.

not today, though.

"what is it?" he says, eyes flickering back to his computer screen. just polite enough not to get a scalding latte thrown on him. he does not need third degree burns right now. he's close enough to calling it quits and committing some murder as is.

even as the silence stretches, you don't leave. tim is not feigning disinterest—he is disinterested, he just wants you to leave, so he looks up again, eyebrow raised. you're staring at him, unreadable expression in your face. and the longer you look at him, the more something pricks at the back of his neck. an uneasy feeling washes over him.

then you grin. broad and amused. tim blinks, dumbfounded. what? he was just gearing up for those burns and now you're grinning?

"hey," you say, voice way lighter than before. maybe you take rejection super well? "can i sit here?"

of course not. tim sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose.

well, whatever. he can commend perseverance. maybe a little distraction won't hurt. he can always leave.

"sure," he says, gesturing to the chair. "just be quiet."

"you got it."

you make true with your promise. the table's big enough that you can sit across him, pull out your own laptop, and work in silence without bothering him, and as soon as you get in the groove of things, it's as though you're all alone in this café. tim's not so lucky. if you had cast a spell on him, it would not be quite as effective as your silent, unbothered presence is at distracting him. the fact that the case's not moving at all—no matter where he prowls, searches, spies—is not helping. after an hour of fruitless pondering and texting steph and duke (monitoring the switch in the patrols, more like), he gets up to grab another americano. whatever. it's cold outside.

you pay him no mind, only nodding when he asks you to watch over his stuff.

it's a little annoying, actually.

he studies you as he waits at the counter for his name to be called. that same sense of unease pokes at him, a thread waiting to be pulled to unravel… what, exactly? certainly what he is feeling now is a sense of recognition, but where has he seen you exactly? he tries to picture you in the places he frequents and fails miserably. then maybe he hasn't seen you in the flesh, but elsewhere… photos? just now he was going through the victim's family archive. again he fails to place you.

the victim is a 26 year old, white male doing a masters in arboriculture and urban forestry. he'd been working on mercey island to study the degradation of a specific type of tree around the sewage treatment plant. had taken line 1 on angelo and mysteriously wasn't on the train when it got to arena. police had determined the subject had gotten off in bolland to catch the ferry and slipped in the banks. (why would he even take the ferry? the connection with line 5 was two stations away and it would've taken him straight into newtown, a few blocks away from his apartment instead of going all the way round to rogers basin and then what? catching a cab? paying triple fare? c'mon. some of us aren't stupid.)

so the common sense explanation was they'd killed this guy to shut him up about something. the issue was what he'd found out and who had killed him for it. almost everybody in the family agreed with this. steph was of the opinion the guy had not really found anything, but he'd gotten close enough. he and barbara thought he'd managed to hide something given the general paranoia he'd exhibited in the cctv vids from his last few hours alive, but where he'd put it was far beyond him. even if he hadn't, the people who'd killed him certainly believed he had and it was a grave enough offense to warrant a rush job on this guy's murder. a visit to ivy was par for the course in flora related cases, but she'd refused to lend them a hand and so tim was drawing blanks on the hows, the whys and the where.

until you. a possible connection.

he looks at you again. his parents had been pretty important wall street brokers. your coat is tailored. your phone's seems like a recent acquisition.

maybe.

he settles down in his seat with his steaming cup and slides a raspberry croissant over to you with a smile. you stop typing, arch an eyebrow at him.

"a sorry for being rude earlier," he says, charmingly. raises his cup with a little laugh. "not a morning bird!"

you rest your chin on the palm of your hand, eyes twinkling in amusement. "is that so?"

tim nudges the pastry closer to you. "will you forgive me?"

your smile unfurls lazily and a little bit cocky as you take the croissant quite deliberately without touching him. "we shall see."

(kinda hot, honestly.

okay, focus.)

"are you an early bird?" he asks.

"mm, not quite," you say, peeling off the wrapper. tim knows it's still warm from having carried it over, but by the way it flops a little under your fingers, it must be from the last batch of yesterday's pastries. well, he would've bought you a new one if they had any.

he tries again. "so you've stayed up all night? you don't look it."

"you do," you say, popping a bite of the pastry in your mouth. a little bit of the raspberry jam sticks to your cheek. tim grabs his mug so his fingers he can't reach out to wipe it. what can he say. big fan of hygiene, him.

"big nights at work," he says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. "are you working overtime at your… job?" an embarrassed smile, well-practiced. "sorry, i don't actually know what you do."

"of course you don't," you say, simply. "i haven't told you."

tim's fingers tighten on the mug. "well, i am asking. in case it wasn't obvious."

you munch on another piece. the jam is still there. "why do you wanna know?"

right. why does he want to know? it wouldn't take that long to track you down and doxx you if he wanted to. would probably be easier. he could do it in his sleep, if that time were ever to come.

a man is dead, tim, he reminds himself. play nice.

"well, how am i supposed to pick you up after work if i don't know if you're working overtime?" he says, faux smoothly.

that shocks a laugh at out of you, and tim drinks only to hide the satisfaction of getting a hit.

"cute," you say, giving him a once over. "but i've got a boyfriend."

that's news. tim doesn't feel disappointed. not really. it's just another door shut in his face. he'll have to find another way in.

he shrugs. "that's a shame."

"well, don't play demure now," you laugh. "what are you working on? you've been staring the hell out of that screen."

tim smiles sheepishly. "do i look as stuck as i am?"

"little bit," you admit. "anything i can do to help?"

bingo.

"i can't say much," he says, "because the case is technically still ongoing, but i'm helping out the mayor's office trying to draft a proposal to improve the city's urban safety measures. coming up blank because i want people to be safe, but still be able to enjoy the city without everything being gated, you know? there's only a few pleasures in gotham, after all."

you nod, thoughtfully. "that's laudable. what are you thinking?"

"thanks. the most straightforward way—and cheapest, probably—would be to install railings, hire guards around the parks—"

"they're gonna be bought off immediately, dude."

"well, yeah. and the railings are not gonna deter anyone who's willing to gamble their life on line 1 being late. or jumping over to the beach and slipping down the bank, like that guy last week."

"slipping down… oh! you mean tony!"

tim blinks, affecting surprise. "you knew the guy?"

"yeah," you say, slipping into sorrow. tim shifts in his seat. well, of course if you knew him, you'd care. dude was dead. "we went to gcu together, got in the same study group for organic chem. he used to take the train with me every thursday, got off at the same stop and he'd walk me home. didn't talk to him much after college, but it's a shame he passed."

"must've been. he seemed young," tim says.

"he was! last i heard he was doing his masters. his poor mom's devastated."

his surprise this time is genuine. "you know his mother?"

"we didn't date, if that's what you're thinking," you rush to explain. "i used to live in chinatown back then, not so far from the banks, actually—the flooding was awful back in 2016, by the way, you should do something about that—and tony loves the sea, so he'd always take the ferry back home even though it was the long way around. i think he lived in the east end back then? but the ferry station was only like three blocks away from my apartment, and sometimes i'd make the journey over to his mom's house with him—just to see what it was like, you know? see the world through his eyes. tony loved nature. he loved it despite everything steel and concrete eating it up more and more. didn't even mind that the ferry had to pass blackgate if he got to stare at the open sea, even though i damn nearly pissed my pants every time we heard the noises—sorry, i'm talking too much, aren't i?"

"no," he croaks. clears his throat. "it's not too much."

"really? you look a little pale."

tim shakes his head. "it's fine," he says. "go on."

it is fine. he'd just forgotten. forgotten this guy was human. had friends. had family. people who missed him. who would continue to miss him even after the case was closed. forgotten what he was doing this for. not to solve a puzzle, but to give the people that he'd left behind the closure they needed. and the truth. always the truth.

"anyway, so we went a few times. we'd get off by loeb bridge and stay a few hours at his mom's house, and when it was about to get dark, he'd walk me over to grayson station and i'd take the green line back home. i sent his mom a message right after i found out—she really was distraught. the insurance company is making a right mess out of things. i hear they went to check over his apartment and apparently they left no stone unturned looking for the suicide note that was never gonna be there because when they left, it looked like they'd ransacked the place. it's disrespectful, is what it is, and just so his mum can't cash in the life insurance."

"the insurance company did that?" he asks. "are you sure someone didn't just… actually ransack the place?"

"who knows." you shrug. "but his mom said she'd left the place spotless before they came in, and i trust her. maybe you should tell the mayor about that. it can't be the first stunt those guys pull."

"no, probably not," tim says absently, tapping his fingers on the table. in fact, you've probably hit the nail on the head. it cannot be the first time they do this. he checks his watch. 07:34 AM. he can squeeze in a morning visit, why not? "listen, i gotta get going. i've got a meeting across town."

"oh, yeah, no worries." you wave him away. as he shrugs on his coat and stashes his laptop in his bag, you steal one of his pens to jot down something on a napkin. you slide it over to him. "don't be a stranger."

tim grabs it and turns it over. written on it is tony's mother's name and phone number. he knows this, because he already has them on file. he looks at you askance.

you wink at him. "help her make her case."

tim blinks, then grins. "will do!"

"it was nice to catch up with you!" you yell after him as he goes, waving. tim waves back, still grinning when he hits the asphalt.

two blocks away, stephanie pulls him into an alley. "you have the devil's luck, tim, you really do."

tim grins. "you got all that?"

"yep," she says, tapping on the comms device oracle gave her to upload the recording of the conversation to her server. "can't believe you had the comms on you."

he shrugs. "was listening on your patrol, that's all."

"ha! no one's paying you to babysit, control freak." she shakes her head. "can't believe you randomly walked into a lead when we've had no luck for days—"

"heh. what can i say? it's the—"

"—and coming from your ex of all people? dude."

"—talent of the master—what?"

"what?"

"what do you mean?"

"what do i mean by what? the lead? it's obviously the insurance company—"

"no, fuck that," he says. stephanie scowls, incensed at the nonsense and the interruption. tim doesn't care, he can't care, what does she mean? "my ex?"

"yeah? back in school—oh my god, you did not notice?" stephanie scrambles to get out her phone, furiously scrolling through her gallery, and then shoves a picture underneath tim's nose. "oh, you idiot—see?"

he sees. he sure fucking sees. right there, grinning up at him is.. you. the picture is one of an outing back in… what? junior year? it's you, and tim, and steph amidst a group of other high schoolers, absolutely demolishing the manbat special at batburger. he has his arm around you. fuck.

fuck.

"tim, tim, look at me, don't hide your face in your hands—you didn't notice you were talking to your ex?"

tim groans into his palms, slides down the grimy, disgusting wall onto the grimy, disgusting floor.

that's why you were familiar. that's why the sense of unease. that's why you were nervous—

oh, no, he'd been so rude. he'd broken up with you and then you'd tried being nice when you saw him again after all these years and he had forgotten about you.

"ha, ha!" stephanie laughs. is she recording? fuck, she's recording. tim tries to push the phone away, but she's quicker. "cass, can you believe this doofus?"

"badly done," cass says. oh, they're facetiming.

tim groans again, stands up to walk away. "i gotta—i gotta apologize— i have to—"

stephanie holds him back by the scruff of the neck, which is to say, the hood of his sweatshirt. "no can't do, mister. we've got to pay a morning call to that lovely insurance company playing whack-a-mole in our crime scenes. that's why you got the mother's number right?"

"oh, no," tim says, freezing. "was it… was it obvious i didn't know? is that— do you think — do you think that's why i got—"

"do i think the fact that you did not recognize your ex in the flesh directly influence the fact that you got the victim' mom's number instead of, you know, theirs? uh, yeah. man, you're hopeless."

"yep," cass echoes.

tim slumps back down to the floor in despair.

"man," steph cackles. "i can't wait to text jay about this."

[naomihatake]

Solitude

you can find other zoro fics here: Naomi's archive

pairing: zoro x fem reader

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, consumption of alcohol

summary: One would expect the swordsman to unwind after a battle, but there are times when he can't help but think. Alcohol doesn't always come in handy when a specific crewmate he grew fond of cuddled a tad bit too close to his heart.

word count: 3.3k

theme song: 'Daylight' by David Kushner

A/N: It can be imagined with both anime and opla Zoro. I don't know if he's slightly ooc or not, but I genuinely wanted to dig into this side of a relationship with the swordsman. The awkward times when he's getting used to it and simply accepting everything as a new part of his life.

I didn't forget about my multi chapter fiction, I just didn't find the inspiration for the 8th chapter. I couldn't help but write this for my own comfort and I want to mention that this original art of @tea917339 inspired me (check it out, it's absolutely amazing!!!)

I'm always open for your opinions and comments, so don't be shy about sharing your thoughts with me! <3

Usually, nights with the Straw Hats were lively, even after battles that left the crew members injured and bleeding. They would pick each other up and cheer up by simply bickering — that's what Zoro thought. 

The same way Luffy's hand extended to help him back on his feet after he plopped down on the ground to rest. The same way Zoro reassured Chopper after the kid tried his best not to get emotional afterwards. The same way Sanji threw some remarks and the swordsman spat back in annoyance. And, for fuck’s sake, Nami reminded him for the tenth time that day he owes her berry for something he completely forgot about. Usopp was sighing in relief every time he remembered they escaped with life again while Robin agreed with a soft smile on her face. Truly, it was almost insane — Zoro wouldn't exactly call that a miracle because he's doubtful of its existence. 

However, he couldn't bring himself to cheer up once the celebration of their victory was over and everyone went into their rooms. He was on the night watch and all he found himself capable of doing was burying in memories of all kinds, be it happy or not. With not enough alcohol in his system yet, it was rather hard to push those thoughts into the back of his head. 

The swordsman sat on the deck, his back resting against the wooden cabin. Hidden from prying eyes, he found peace in the temporary silence. Rare were the times when the crew was so peaceful and it was usually during the night, when they were asleep, because otherwise they would've caused a mayhem. 

The side of his mouth curled upwards at that thought. It was equally annoying and endearing, since in the months spent with them he found a lot of things about himself. Like the fact that he found his crew to be a family, like the way he sometimes found peace even in the chaos caused by them. 

Or like the presence he grew way too fond of along the way. That witch — she truly was one, judging by the effect she had on him. Only a spell could've made his mind get so clouded, only some unknown force could've managed to soften his edges so well. She joined the crew from the first day and he believed that a spell had been casted upon him since the first time they gazed at each other. 

Right. Zoro gulped down. The effect she had on him was equally annoying and pleasant. 

Annoying because he should've focused on his promise to Kuina, not get lost in between fairytales. He wasn't by any means the charming prince riding a white horse and he didn't intend on becoming one anytime soon. It filled him up with feelings unknown to him. Zoro might be a fan of adventures and he had rather insane ideas — as one might say —, but such sentiments were an entirely new path to walk on. 

First and foremost, it bothered him the fact that he wasn't sure he could fulfill both his promises and whatever the fuck was going on between him and the witch. He couldn't pinpoint what was happening, it was all in a blur, even if everything was clearing up whenever he saw her. 

That's when he's reminded why he likes their relationship — what kind of, he didn't know. When he saw her, there were always sparkles in her eyes and the smile on her face would grow wider, lines of happiness appearing on her cheeks. The curl of her lips would make his heart skip a few beats and he would relax his shoulders unconsciously. Eyes filled with joy looked at him as if he was the very reason behind her purest sensations. 

Also, not to mention how warm the depths of his chest felt when she was near. The heat would rise to his cheeks, which he sometimes found uncomfortable, but Zoro never ran away. A side of him wished so badly to go the other way and never look back, ignore her and those stupid damned feelings, but he never gathered enough courage to do so. Every single time, he would remain stuck, with his eyes stuck on her frame and fingers aching to touch and lips tingling to kiss. 

God fucking dammit. 

With a curse rolling off his tongue casually as he closed his eyes, the back of his head collided with the wooden wall he rested his back against. Zoro sat with his knees bent and feet planted onto the floor, only his Wado Ichimoji in his proximity. With its hilt glued to his shoulder, the sheathed sword was in between his fingers. By that time, he held it for comfort.

If that's what he could call it. The swordsman wasn't sure what else to associate it with. Or was it familiarity? The white sword was the only memory he had of a long lost friend and his first home at the dojo, by the side of his sensei. It was the only object tying him to his past, to his beginning, to times when he was much weaker, but determined nonetheless. 

To care about his promise was familiar. Zoro wouldn't give it up — proof was the simple fact that he still achieved to become the strongest swordsman in the world. One day, he will meet Mihawk again and when he does, he will be stronger than the first time he encountered him at Baratie. 

Looking back, it's been so long since. So long since a new life appeared before his eyes and he accepted it with no hesitation. He was a pirate, a Straw Hat, Luffy's first mate. The swordsman swore to help his captain achieve his own dream. 

Those promises were familiar. The erratic heartbeats caused by the witch weren't. The sensation settling in the pits of his stomach when her gentle fingers would brush over his arm weren't. It was foreign and it didn't sit well with him. 

Kuina. 

He still saw her face in his dreams sometimes and it was usually her ghost haunting him. Other times, in her place would be one of his friends and each time it was harder to fall asleep. 

When awake, memories of her replayed so vividly in his mind. Swords clashing together and whistling as they cut the air in half. A grin brightening up Kuina's face when he would fall on his butt and cuss her out again. They promised that one of them would become the greatest, but he was the only one capable of that, because her bones lay in a grave somewhere far away. 

Zoro opened his eyes and stared at the night sky with scars scattered all over it. A calming view, even if there was tumult inside of him, hidden in between ribs that broke with each new pump of his heart. His brown eyes fell to the floor and he crossed his arms on top of his knees, gripping the sword tighter. His chest puffed up with air when he inhaled and he let out a heavy sigh. 

“Zoro?” a soft whisper made him jump out of his thoughts. 

The swordsman snapped his head and he was greeted by the sight of someone he didn't even know he was searching for. A side of him wished to say something along the lines of “fuck off” while the other side desperately wanted to soak into her presence. 

A witch, indeed. 

His eyes ran up and down her figure. She didn't seem surprised to find him there, in a rather hidden spot, which meant she didn't search for too long. Did she even search for him or did she also wish to be alone for a while? The first place to search for someone during night shifts was the crows nest. 

She held two bottles of what he guessed to be alcohol and she swung them carefully before stepping closer. His chest tightened and he found it harder to breathe, even if it was inevitably easier than before at the same time. For some reason, she had that effect on him. 

Maybe he knew that reason all too well, but he just avoided thinking of it. 

“You told me we'd drink something together,” she reminded him in that warm voice of hers. 

The sweet melody that calmed his nerves. 

He didn't know what kind of energy radiated off him, but her behavior was far more gentle than usual. She wasn't hesitant, the witch never hesitated around him, she was just mindful of her actions and words. 

He didn't know why for a second he saw understanding in the curl of her lips when she crouched down. Unconsciously, Zoro knitted his eyebrows together in confusion at her gestures. 

The bottles hit the floor and she let go of them. Her eyes sparkled like they always did, but there was something different that time — a warmth they held only when she comforted Chopper or encouraged Usopp. Warmth similar to the shy rays of the sun of the morning, when the cold is still lingering and there's a specific scent in the air. Gentleness he only ever saw in her, because Luffy's kindness was different. 

A warmth so humane that was visible for the crew alone or those in need of it. 

The witch recognized something in his demeanor and Zoro had no clue what that was about. He could only see it in her gaze. 

“I suppose it isn't really the perfect time for me to butt in, hm?” she whispered. 

Like a promise only for him to hear. A secret. 

“How'd you find me here?” he found himself speaking before he thought it through. 

The question made her shrug. 

“I pick up easily on your energy. It's quite unmistakable, y'know?” 

There it was — one of the main reasons why she had the nickname of Witch both on the ship and outside of it. She's spoken about that for a few times and he had to admit he understood what she meant. However, the swordsman only felt those “energies” (as she liked to call them) in specific moments. He remembers that time in Lougetown when everything felt like energy instead of palpable objects, the reason why he won that fight. 

Sometimes he seriously wondered if she hadn't met his sensei at some point in her life. 

“What is it like?” once again, he asked before thinking. 

The witch pulled her lips in a tight line and hummed, gathering the right words to describe it. Her gaze bounced around and she grimaced once, when she probably found her choice of words to be unpleasant or inappropriate — she always scrunched her nose when it was difficult to find the proper terms. 

“It's sharp, but warm. Kind of steady, constantly flickering. For example, Luffy's energy is always all around the place and Chopper's gets out of control easily. Robin has the steadiest energy of all of us, even if it was kind of… strange lately.” 

Zoro arched his eyebrow at the last piece of information and only received a hand waving through the air. 

“Ignore the last part, I'm still figuring it out myself. No need to worry.” 

The swordsman knew the energy she was talking about was different than what he felt when she was in presence, but he wondered if whatever laid in her heart interfered with her ability to distinguish his being from the others. 

He watched as the witch looked at the bottles next to him and then clicked her tongue, deep in thought. 

“I don't know if they'd help you tonight, but I'll let you be.” 

None of those words were accusatory. They were all coming from a place of kindness and patience. 

Suddenly, her fingers curled around his bicep, below the bandana wrapped around his arm. Skin on skin, her touch was hot and pleasant, even if very confusing. 

What was she thinking? 

His puzzled feelings were written on his face. Uncertainty laid in his dark brown eyes and his fingers held onto the sword tighter. He didn't even notice when the grip on his Wado Ichimoji loosened up. 

Her gaze was reassuring as ever and she gently rubbed her thumb into his tensed muscles. 

Zoro had to at least admit to himself that vulnerability was uncomfortable. Without spoken words, she picked up on it. 

“I don't know for sure if I'll get to sleep tonight, so you could cut your night shift in half.” She's having issues with nightmares again? he silently wondered. “I'll be in my room, reading. Do what you see fit.” 

Instantly, she was back on her feet with her back straight and walked away. The swordsman didn't know what happened or what he should understand. 

He was utterly and completely confused. What just happened? 

Oh. The witch gave him space and time to think. She also told him where she was in case he decided to grip at the promise of comfort and hold tightly onto it. The opportunity laid right in front of him and he was the only one to decide whether he used it to his advantage or not. 

Zoro didn't notice when his shoulders relaxed. His body wasn't as tense as a few minutes ago, his back didn't feel as stiff. The exhale he left wasn't heavy anymore. 

The swordsman knew what this was about. Maybe it was the time to just accept his feelings and get on with it. He had to suck it up and deal with it, even if dealing with her wasn't the right way to word it out. It always felt more like she was dealing with him. 

With closed eyes, he remembered the last time her lips brushed by his. Gosh, it was so hot and his blood was bubbling like lava in his veins. It wasn't an accident, he intended on kissing her back with fever, but he had a hard time accepting everything. It was… weird. Facing that reality was troublesome. 

She has yet to lose her patience. The witch remained firm and each one of her questions were answered by gestures instead of words — something familiar for him. She was far more skilled with expressing herself even when sensitive topics came up. 

That was a miracle. Her presence alone could be compared to a miracle because it was completely unexpected and somehow always caressing him the right way. It was scary how accurately she could read him and the same applied to him. 

The sky before his eyes continued to sparkle with stars and he remained still in his place. His fingers caressed the scabbard of his sword as he blinked in the darkness, the chill air of the night invading his lungs. 

It was complicated and so simple at the same time. Zoro knew the answer — he just had to come to terms with it. 

Just as age promised, the witch sat on the bed in her room with a blanket warming her up. The lamp on the nightstand by her side casted a golden light over the pages of a book sitting in her lap. It was hard to focus on the story — a captivating part of pirate's history, sometime before the appearance of Gold D. Roger.

Her thoughts were followed by the swordsman. Zoro's mood was… sad at best. She didn't expect to find him in that state, but she quickly came to the conclusion that leaving him alone might do him good. 

She tapped her finger over the pages of the old book and clicked her tongue. Was it right to leave him? The witch never saw him in a similar mood and she also realized she didn't know how to help him. There could be a lot of ways to bring him back to earth or at least keep him afloat. Those ways were only known by him. All she could do was guess and hope for the best outcome. 

Heavy footsteps echoed on the other side of the door. When it opened wide, there was Zoro's tall silhouette, his white sword in his hand and one bottle of alcohol in his other. He came closer, his face hard as a stone. The pink hue painting his cheeks was the only detail giving away the fact that he drank one of the bottles she brought hours ago. 

“Why aren't you sleeping yet?” he said with a gruff voice as he plopped down on the mattress. 

There were only a few hours left before the sun would rise up from the sea. 

“You've probably guessed already,” she averted her eyes from his figure. 

“Nightmares again?” 

The witch only nodded, eyes focused on the book. Zoro let the sword against the couch. 

“I won't fall asleep, so you could as well take a night off,” only then she looked at him again. 

His darkened eyes have been locked on her since he entered the valley. The witch wanted to move, to eventually get away from his knowing gaze, but she knew there was no possible way to do it. 

“Are you alright?” she blurted out. 

She had to fill that silence with some kind of conversation. Maybe that wasn't exactly the wisest decision, considering his shoulders visibly tensed and he straightened his back. A frown appeared on her face. She regretted talking. 

The witch figured out he needed more time to sort his thoughts. 

“Why don't you go to sleep?” she tilted her head to the side. “The fight has worn us all out. You could rest for a while.” 

“And you?” 

“We'll be sailing for a few days. I can sleep ‘till afternoon.” 

“Nothing will happen for as long as you're on this ship with us,” the reassurance slipped so easily. “Do you trust us?” 

“More than anything,” the witch responded with a faint smile. 

Several weeks ago, her answer and reaction would've been so different. She made so much progress since she first met them, her trust now fully laying in their palms. Long ago, she would've backed away at such a question and, if they were lucky enough, the witch would admit she “needs time to adjust”. 

At first, all he did was lean close enough for his shoulder to touch hers. The swordsman only intended to enjoy some peace while he shared his booze with the witch. From time to time, she'd gulp from the bottle and then give it back to him before continuing her lecture. After each two minutes, the room would be filled by the rustling of pages. 

It didn't last long until he fell into her trap and tiredness dragged him glued to her. With his head in her lap, Zoro bumped his nose in her thigh. The witch's fingers ran through his hair and he let out an audible exhale, eyes closing instantly. Greeted by darkness, he felt warm not only on the inside. The blanket she curled around herself earlier was now covering his upper body as he sunk into the soft mattress and her. 

One of his hands curled around her knee and he dug his fingers into her flesh. Her leg jerked slightly at the unexpected touch, but when he tried to move away, she muttered a sweet “It's okay”, stopping his movements. 

The oxygen in his lungs was exchanged with her perfume and he bit back a groan. Her voice was like a lullaby, even if there weren't many words rolling off her tongue. Zoro wasn't bothered by the light of the lamp, completely forgetting about the world around him once her fingers continued running through his hair. 

His hand traveled up, until it fully rested on her thigh, the warmth of her body seeping through the thin material of her pants. Truth be told, he's never felt better. 

She was a remedy. His remedy. 

“Good night.”

Zoro heard her whisper solely because he was near her; otherwise he would've confounded it with the night breeze. 

Maybe giving in to her affection isn't that bad. 

[cannibal-witchh]

Broken Tea Cup

Written by cannibal_witchh

Contains: Alcohol, smoking, language, mental disorders, self harm, sex

Notes: Sorry, I have been infamously MIA as usual. I've been having a bad depression spell then I got hooked on playing SH2R and fell in love with this take of James. Because I've been down in the dumps I wanted to write on the perspective of being the one to love someone who is feeling sadness. Someone who battles with depression and guilt yet the reader will comfort and still see beauty in. It's always been a want of mine to expierence that kind of comfort when I have my depression spells. This does happen after Mary's death so just a heads up. Also, I haven't wrote in so damn long that it might show in my writing I'm pretty scattered brain. Thanks for checking out my story!

James. That name, that awful name. A name that drew from her chapped pale lips during her final moments. That name, which was accompanied with a desperate plea. A weak collapsing beg that was extinguished under goose down. James. That name drifted in the corridors of his dissociation, and reeled him back to reality.

"W-what?", James stuttered realizing he had another dissociative episode. Your eyes drew down to his hands, another cigarette was laced between his pointer and middle finger. His eyes followed your's, and shame spread across his face. " Y/N, I'm sorry...", his eyes darted to the ground, and he crouched down to extinguish the cigarette. " I'm having a really bad spell, Y/N. I'm so sorry...", his eyes grew glossy, you could see pink pooling under the skin of his nose, and his voice grew nasally. "James, please.", your hands reached out to cup his face. " You aren't a bad person. You are human. You may not have had the right to make the decision you did...but,", you were interrupted with a sniffle from James. His eyes shut tight, as tears began to run down his cheeks, and his hands met your's. You felt him tremble, his hands were shaking, tarnished with the scent of tobacco and callouses. " But, baby...thats your weight to bear. And everyday you punish yourself for it because you are sorry. This eats at you so much that you forget to live each day while you can. You aren't a bad person James. Give yourself some kindness.", you comforted him, bringing your forehead to press against his. His hair was matted together from anxiety sweat, and his eyes continued to remain closed. He refused to look at you. He was afraid he'd look back up to see her. See her in her frail and brittle state. How could he move on? While she was dead. Murdered. Move in with a healthy, warm, and lively woman. While his late wife was buried in the ground with her lasts memories being her worst. Move in with a woman, who possibly could bare children, dance, drink, make love, and who could give him comfort. Something she was unable to give him. He felt so wrong. How could he? All those memories were still there, yet he lives a new life as if none of it ever happened.

" I didn't show her kindness..."

" Love, please, you need to understand. There were so many emotions, and so much pain. I know you will never let this go but understand...she's no longer hurting. ", you couldn't pull anymore words together. Nothing would persuade him to move forward. He didn't feel a glimmer of comfort from those words. She's no longer suffering. That reverberated in his mind.

He let out a cough from all the weeping. His face reddened with grief and torment. " Let's go inside. It's about to rain.", you lightly held his hands and guided him into the house. His hands were clammy, skin stuck to your's. It didn't bother you, however, you didn't plan to release his hands from your's. " Sit.", you commanded as he sat on the edge of the bed still holding your hands tightly.

" I will never be her. I accept that. I don't punish you for still feeling the way you do for her. Things were complicated and difficult. You two had a life together. But James...I adore you. I want to be there for you until you are tired of me. Don't burden yourself with all these emotions. Let me take on some.", you felt his hands twitch, he seemed as though panic had spread all over his body. He finally looked up at you, sad glistened red rimmed eyes, and dried tears. " Ok.", was all he mustered in his response. His awkwardness still lingered even in his state of mind. He was never gifted with words. You knew this though. His actions showed his appreciation for you, not his words.

" I don't deserve another chance...another shot at having someone in my life like you.", he began fidgeting with your fingers. His eyes laying into your's. You could see all his brokenness. Every chip and crack inside him. All the hurt and ache bleeding through. He was a deeply broken man, and yet, you couldn't deny your adoration for him. " I wish I could promise you a wonderful life. But you...you've given me what I haven't given you. Unconditional love.", he felt so much guilt suffocating him, his heart racing with the weight of regret. Clawing at his ribs ready to burst, all the build up of hurt clinging under the shell of James. "James. I know you care for me. You've done alot for me. Please stop comparing how you and I love differently. I promise you, your presence and love is something I'm so thankful for. I only ask that you can eventually provide yourself that level of kindness.", you knew from behind his blue eyes that would never happen. His eyes clearly read there was no chance even a quarter of him could give himself love like what he scrapped along to give you.

His face looked defeated, he was staring at the ground, uncertain where his eyes should even rest. His hands still continuing to figet with your fingers. His leg bouncing up in down, slightly rattling the mattress " Y/N...can I please...touch you?", he awkwardly asked, his eyes tracing from the ground to your body to your eyes. He had always been touch starved. He would fall apart with hugs, kisses, and he'd lose himself intertwined under the sheets with you. You were lost at his question, he must've wanted to stop the conversation. It was traveling in a small circle. Be kind to yourself. Mary is no longer suffering. I can't forgive myself. I can't let go. You deserve better. All empty words and suggestions given at an already exhausted battle.

"Are you sure, we should?", you asked with surprise across your face. You didn't want to feel temptation drawing at your heart, but you couldn't deny...grief did bring people to want sex. The emotions with every thrust, every gasp, and every motion...it felt so genuine. Like the intimate acts the two of you indulged in was healing. Like he understood, he is allowed to feel pleasure. To be loved and held under such vulnerability. That even under such grim spells, he was still desired and loved in your eyes.

"I would like to...but only if you...", he continued his awkward mumbling. His eyes trailing away, trying to be discipline. and not draw his eyes to your night gown. The way it hung off your shoulders, scooping down to reveal so much chest, thin enough to show peaks forming when the temperature was low, short enough that it barely reached past your upper thigh, and barely giving modesty to your lace panties.

"Touch me.", you gave an approving look that sent him breaking from his refrains of exploring you. Your doe eyes gazing at him, exhausted from the tiring battle of begging James to allow kindness to himself. Maybe your body meeting with his would allow him this.

He let out a quiet mhm, and reached for your face with both large slender hands. He cupped both sides and led you towards his face. You saw his blonde eyelashes cover his sad blue eyes, before you closed your own eyes. A gentle kiss was exchanged. You heard him let out a low gasp. He brought one of his hands to the small of your back, bringing you into his lap. You could feel heat pressing against his jeans. A quick glance down, and you spotted small wet stain appeared beside his zipper. He was so easily excited, it didn't take long for him to leak desire.

He continued to kiss you, gently he nipped at your lower lip, and invited his tongue in your mouth. One of his hands reached to squeeze your thigh, his thumb rubbed circles along your soft skin. " God. I want you, Y/N.", apology could be heard in his voice, but also sincerity too. He did want you. He did find beauty in you. " Then show me.", you commanded as you guide your hands under his shirt to touch his bare chest. His heart raced, practically ready to burst from how fast it was pumping. He broke the kisses, his eyes half lidded gazing back at you. He brought both arms to hug you tightly, his nose pressed against the top your shoulder. His stubble tickled your skin. " Please lay down."

You obliged and fell slowly onto your back. James pulled his shirt over his shoulders, his body was lovely. It was realistic. Not some chiseled ab model. He had body hair littered from his chest to his lower abdomin. By no means had much toned mass, he had a bit of a lower stomach from drinking but he wasn't overweight. Just human. The heart breaking part of every time you witnessed James undress was what you saw on his arms. Deep scars. He used to self harm. He never liked visiting that topic but he would never deny that was a bad method of coping in his earlier years of grief.

You tried not to focus on that small detail of him. He was alive, that was a reminder of it. He unfastened his belt and let his jeans drop down to his ankles. He stepped out of them to crawl between your legs. You caught a glimpse of a very fevered erection. Reddened and dripping with lust. Or was it love? Maybe both. He hooked his fingers into your panties sliding them off you. " Please take off your top. I want to see all of you while I taste you.", his mouth was so close to it. His head so deep between your thighs, it was almost an art. You obeyed, your top flew across the room, until a gentle clash of fabric met the wooden floor. " Good girl."

He brought his lips to kiss your inner ones. His tongue traced the edge of your slit. Lightly it followed up and down until he started to softly tug on your labia with his teeth. He nudged your hips to lift a little more so he could savor your deeper. You followed, legs widened apart and your back arching up. Saliva ran down his chin, glistening his stubble in the dim light. He started to delicately suck on your labia and intermittently tease your entrance. Alternating between sucking and quickly lapping at your hole.

You couldn't resist a release of moans, your stomach rising and falling from your breaths increasing. You saw James occasionally glance to meet your eyes. It was like witnessing a starving creature consuming you without limitations. He moved his mouth to suck on your pussy, then tracing his tongue down to wriggle his tongue inside you. You felt your hips buckle, and your hands reached to grasp his soft blonde hair. You tugged it gently to get out a small groan from him. You felt his breath brush against your sensitive body. His tongue continued to press into you, his nose lightly rested on a patch of your pubic hair. James loved your natural side, if you missed shaving he couldn't possibly care. It was an opportunity to smell more of your natural musk. He felt more compelled to taste your pussy knowing he could smell your soft hair. Something about that interaction made him wild.

"Your a good boy, James.", you praised him. You saw him lift his face a bit with starry eyes. James had always been the more submissive one. The praise had always been a kink for him. " More, please.", he politely begged. His tongue dragged to your clit, circling it, and bringing himself to suckle it. " Sweet boy, you know how to please me so well. You are such a good boy.", it was hard to think clearly, with him roaming his tongue along your aroused body. " Am I really a good boy, momma?", he pushed himself up, until he hovered over you. His shoulders tensing from lifting up, his body towering over yours as he brought a hand to guide his dick into you. He brushed it along your slit, kissing your clit before he slid the head in. He was teasing you. "Yes, sweet boy, now go on, touch me as deep as you can.", you impatiently moaned, the rest of him slipped in. Both of you let out a loud gasp, your eyes both met. He brought his hands to lace with yours. " God, you're so beautiful.", his eyes watery with emotion.

"I could never stop fantasizing about you.", he was thursting relatively slow, just savoring you wrapped around him. It was a flustered feeling of craving him to go faster.

" Every day, I just think....uh...fuck..I think of how you're handcrafted for me. Your body sculpted to perfection."

" Aw, my sweet James.", your eyes grew emotional with his. Were you two making love? Was this no longer fucking?

"You're captivating. Every moan.", he thrusted deep.

" Every cry.", the thrust grew deep and you exchanged a yelp in return.

" Every time you shout my name.", he crashed his lips into your's forcing his tongue in. A guttural sound of satisfaction parting from his lips.

" Fuck. I can't take it.", you saw him tense, his eyes tightly shut. Hands gripping your's, nails practically digging into your skin. " Say your all mine."

" James. I'm all your's."

" Say you will have my children."

" I want to carry your babies."

A loud moan slipped from him, his thrusts were faster, the mattress creaked with each motion. You could feel his cock growing very hot as it stretched you apart.

" Can I...can I get you pregnant...now?", there was the awkward James. A few seconds of a dominant side came out and now it was back to the sweet shy man you knew.

You shot your eyes at his. He seemed as though he regretted the request, as if it was a slip of the tongue.

" You would be amazing dad, baby.", you gave a gentle smile. His eyes squinting as a smile formed across his face.

His thrusts were intense for several minutes before he grew sloppy. He brought his hands to slip under you body to bring you against his chest. He hugged you tightly as his pace became slower and drawn out. " I love you."

" I love you too, darling. It's ok, get me pregnant."

A desperate gasp slipped again, until it was followed with a hitch. His body tensed as you felt hot ropes deposit in you.

"Oh my god...I'm so sorry.", he panicked. His self worth reflecting back in his eyes. " James. James. James. Calm down. I want this. ", you grinned, pink dusted along your cheek and chest.

" You really want this?"

" I mean...its kinda a bit late. You already finished in me..."

"Oh....yeah...I guess that's...ermm..yeah. sorry."

" James...be quiet ok."

" Did you...cum?"

You let out a soft giggle and shook your head.

" Shit...I'm so selfish...I- I"

" We can go for another round in a bit, baby. Let's go grab some food."

" Oh...you want to go again?"

You nodded and rolled your eyes.

" Is this what you call pillow talk or after care?"

" Please don't say pillow talk."

Oh...yikes.

[icycoldninja]

I absolutely adore your DMC fics! If you’re up for it, could I request the DMC boys with an s/o who has nipple piercings? I just got some new jewelry for mine and I know those men would be absolutely *feral* about seeing it on their partner.

I love your writing and hope you have a good day!!

Oh thank you. And Nipple jewelry? Now that's something new.

Sparda boys + V x Reader nipple jewelry headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante caught glimpses of your new piercings through your clothes and was intrigued just from that--up until now, he had no idea nipple jewelry was a thing.

-He got you to reveal your new accessories later that night, and once he saw the shiny metal adornments clipped through your rosy pink buds, he couldn't control himself.

-He had to know what kind of sounds you would make when he tugged on your piercings. He was dying to learn whether or not they'd jingle as he fucked you.

-He had you on your back in an instant, his demonic strength suddenly surfacing. He was one boob-job away from Triggering and giving in to his animalistic urges.

-Looks like a lot of paizuri and a rough, sleepless night is in your immediate future. Good luck.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil never cared for piercings. Once, a long, long time ago, he got his ear pierced for earrings but let it heal because piercings are too uncomfortable in his opinion and too much of a hassle to remove.

-He didn't care that you chose to get some--it was your decision, your money and your problem.

-His attitude completely changed when you did the deed a few weeks after. For some reason, seeing shiny bits of jewelry attached to your erect nipples sent lightning down his dick.

-Naturally, he Triggered right then and there before folding you up in missionary position and drilling into you, his talented hands groping and grasping at your very sensitive boobs.

-Your breasts were so unbelievably sore the next morning--and you have Vergil to thank for that.

□ Nero □

-Nero thought your boobs were hot the way they were and was secretly worried they would lose some of their beauty once you got your nipples pierced.

-He was thankfully wrong, however, as the gleam of shiny metal contrasted with your skin, and more importantly, your pretty, perky nipples.

-He is now drawn to them, like an enchanted mortal to a sorceress after being put under a spell. Nero wants to touch you so badly--no, scratch that--he wants to do more than just touch you.

-He'll put his vibrating arm attachments to work on your breasts, running the toy around the whole of your breasts before teasing your sensitive buds with the settings amped up to max.

-He'll also be tugging at your jewelry throughout the duration of your passionate lovemaking, pulling on your poor, aching flesh till it starts to hurt.

-He also likes it if you model different piercings for him as a type of foreplay; it gets him all hot and bothered.

● V ●

-V didn't know what nipple piercings were. He'd never even seen anyone with piercings until now.

-Was very curious, perhaps even worried, about whether or not getting the piercings hurt you.

-Once you give him the general rundown of the procedure, his fears are put to rest, allowing his arousal to take center stage.

-He'll be directing nearly all his attention to your breasts now. You'll find him licking the areas not covered by your nipple jewelry while tugging on said piercings--bonus points if they're rings or chains.

-He also likes those little barrette-like ones, the type that have words on them. He doesn't know why, he just finds them very enticing.

[tw1l1te]

blueberry₊˚✩⊹sal fisher x reader₊˚✩⊹

(Not edited, so please forgive men if there are grammatical/spelling errors. Random thought I came up with. Please let me know if you'd like more backstory/a continuation of this!

Sitting on top of Addison Apartments was a place to think. A place of silence except the sounds of breathing and the occasional shuffling around. You haven't been up here in a while, since the fight you and Sal had a few months ago.

₊˚✩⊹

"God you're such a hypocrite. You keep telling others to take care of themselves and not isolate, but yet you don't give two shits and don't even take your own advice. Not answering your phone or leaving your apartment for over two months? Do you know how worried Ash was? How heartbroken and distant Larry became?? We thought you were fucking dead Y/n. And after all that you decide to drop by and ask 'what's up'?" Sal seethed, his tone getting more hostile by the second.

You don't think you've ever seen him so angry.

"I'm sorry Sal, I didn't mean to make you all worry. That was the last thing I wanted you guys to feel. You know I don't handle my mental health well," you murmured, avoiding Sal's eyes. You could already feel the tears streaming down your face.

"Listen I get it Y/n, but you can't just cut us off like that. You made us all husks of what we used to be. Do you know how many nights I stayed up till the early morning just staring at my phone, hoping you'd at least call?? I couldn't even remember what you sounded like until today."

"Bluebe-"

"Don't call me that. You have no right calling me that after the months of heartbreak and worry you've caused us. Every time this happens, I get my hopes up in that you won't shut us out and disappear. I get disappointed every. Single. Time. You're lucky that Larry, Ash, and Todd are such forgiving people. You don't deserve them."

You mulled over his words. He was right. You didn't deserve them. All the affection and love that they gave you all for you to throw it down the drain when you got too ill. The hundreds of phone calls from Ash. The constant check-ins from Larry over the walkie-talkie, talking about stupid shit that happened that day or speaking softly about how much he missed you. Todd emailing you every few days asking how you were holding up and if you needed anything, but eventually those emails automatically went to spam. And Sal. Sal was probably the hardest to avoid.

He sat outside your apartment door for hours, talking, pleading you to let him in to talk. He brought snacks and slid them under the door, worried if you were eating enough. Playing his guitar for you through the walkie-talkie, hoping it would soothe you or cheer you up. Sliding random doodles and letters under the door so you had something to help remind you about how much they cared about you. How much he cared for you. You kept them all under the bed in a shoe box, reading over every word and cat doodle every single night.

"I can't do this again, Y/n. You've hurt me over and over and over again. Each time I expected it to end different."

He took a pause, waiting for a reaction or a word from you.

"We're done. I don't know about the others, but don't bother writing or talking to me. I can't do this anymore."

And with that, he headed downstairs, not sparing you a single glance back.

₊˚✩⊹

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the rooftop door creak open.

You don't look back, hoping the person would get a hint and leave.

You hear the footsteps get closer, and stopping right beside you.

"Didn't think you came up here anymore." he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

Fuck. He was probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

"I come here to think." you stated, looking out to the street and nearby houses.

"Y/n, I'm sor-" "I'm leaving." you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say.

You've thought about your time in Nockfell and decided that it was time for you to move on. You couldn't be stuck in a time capsule forever. The more time had passed, the more it had started to hurt being here and see reminders of what had happened. Reminders of him.

"What?" he whispered, finally looking at you.

"I need to move on. I can't be here anymore." you stated, trying to keep your voice level.

"You were right, I can't keep leaving people in the dark and constantly worrying them. I'll keep doing that if I stay here. I need to be somewhere else, I don't know where, but I'll figure it out."

"Y/n. If this is about what I said, I'm sorry, I was in a bad state too. I was just so worried that something had happened-"

"Sal, please stop. I'm not changing my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow morning-"

"What about Ash? Larry and Todd? What about me?? I need you here. It was wrong of me to shut you out, to ignore you. I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You finally looked at him, right into his blue eyes.

His hair had gotten longer, choppier, like he'd tried to cut it himself. No longer in the pigtails you loved. Seems like you'd both changed.

"I need to go, Sal."

You walk away, not looking back because if you did, you wouldn't be able to leave. You wouldn't be able to leave them. Leave Nockfell. Leave him.

"I'll see you around, Blueberry."

₊˚✩⊹

[chunkymamatam]

Apothecary Diaries! That’s a new one never seen anyone talk about shifting there. You got to share some of what happened I’m interested to know!

Only if you want to though.

The Apothecary diaries was really funny. Like I knew the servants were gonna be bitchy and mean but I need them to chill bro lmfao

First of all I was literally sold to the palace and marketed as an "exotic" courtesan. I put exotic in quotes because my mixed ass is not that special bffr Side eye

The whole carriage ride there, they were asking me questions about my skills and shit and my autistic ass was talking about my artistic talent and how I know bits and pieces of different languages(not fluent in anything other than English but I know enough) including but not limited to ASL(I can finger spell decently and know a decent amount of actual words), Spanish(I can only listen can't speak or write), and enough French to speak and write a little. Naur cuz the tension was crazy, why did they take my talk about knowing how to draw horny *fucking evaporates*

They just had me work my ass off cleaning shit, which I like cleaning so I didn't care so long as I didn't have to do shit with men lmfao. But yeah I was yapping throughout that ride with them(including Jinshi btw I don't think I mentioned that he was there lol) and those Eunuchs plus Jinshi were the only ones to know I wasn't a mute for a good minute there. I got in the damn place and why was I being side eyed so hard?? I did NOT like these hoes, they were basically mean girls on crack. Talking shit about how I'm so big, how I was tan, and my beauty marks were ugly or some shit.

Ngl it didn't bother me all that much cuz I think I'm pretty lmfao It was more annoying than anything really. Like why are you trying to talk about me? Do your job. Oh that's another thing, I'm not getting paid. Like.. at all. Crazy sob. Anyway my silence didn't go unnoticed by Jinshi, but that's not what made him question me, yk what did though??? I cut my hair cuz it was long af there and when my hair gets so long it starts to overheat me so it had to go. This man pulled me to the side and had the audacity to be like

"You cut your hair.." and put his fucking fingers in my god damn hair.

Now I already damn well knew I couldn't talk back to him for real. So I was like "Of course. It was to hot and I need to work"

Bro was like "But I liked it."

"Can I get back to work?"

and then he let me go lmfaoooo I know he's a prince but the fucking balls on this man like he's doing physical labor like hand washing clothes, dishes, etc with hair that long. Bro is mostly doing paperwork and seducing staff by looking pretty. I got shit to do get out of my way. /pf

That's all I can type for rn This sinus infection is kicking my ass pfff

[melthe-greatestt]

IM FREE OH MY GOD

Swap!TGWDLM fanfic below, first chapter:3 just before emma goes to beanies

a few things ;

emma is swapped with paul

ted is swapped with charlotte

bill is swapped with henry

sam is swapped with jenny

charlottes a single loser

more stuff below

uhh yeah i hope you guys like this

did NOT proofread this so ignore spelling mistakes and grammar

first chap & a lil more info under the cut ;;

going insane

This fanfiction is NOT fully accurate to the actual musical. Dialogue will be changed, but scenes and such will remain the same. I lowk dunno how im supposed to write out a fucking song but it's fine

Melissa is related to Zoey, so her last name is Chambers

Melissa has been swapped with Mr. Davidson

Pete gets swapped with Steph

Max is now Alice ig idk (bc will is playing hidgens in the rerun) (his father is dead) (hidgens is Max's uncle its rlly confusing)

Deb is swapped with Ziggy bc fuck Ziggy (not my moot, the character)

Idk I'm suffering

Emma didn't like musicals, that's for sure. Being surrounded by people in the show-biz her whole life kind of… ruined it for her, to put it lightly. Just the thought of singing and dancing in front of hundreds — sometimes thousands — of people really gave her an off vibe. It was… uncomfortable, to put it lightly. Basically everyone she knew was an actor or an actress, which set them up better than others. Doesn't mean Emma liked it, but it was better than being homeless on the street. Sometimes she wondered what provoked Lin Manuel Miranda to come up with possibly one of the most repetitive musicals in the history of theater. All the songs sound the same, there's a bunch of reused beats, and just hearing the name made Emma want to crawl into bed and die.

Then there was Paul. He was your average worker at the nearby Beanies Bakery; a café with shitty pastries and even shittier service. The lot were forced to sing; Paul hated it, but the others didn't seem to mind obviously. He hated it, but he didn't necessarily have a problem with singing, he just didn't want to sing for those assholes. Especially when it was “tip for a song”, a sign plastered on a large glass jar which customers loved to use to make the waiters live harder than it already is for some damn reason. Hatchetfield was… something!

Though, despite their differences, something bigger than anything would bring the two together.

The office was quiet that day. With the occasional ring of a phone and a short conversation before hanging up, the work day was peaceful. There sat Emma in her swivel chair that was just a little too small for her, but she learned quickly how to adjust; mainly because Mrs. Chambers (first name Melissa), didn't want to put in a budget for new chairs. Who knew why? Probably because they already weren't making literally anything. It pisses Emma off, but she seriously needed a job; so she couldn't really leave to everyone's (her, nobody else cares) misfortune. Emma laid her head on her office desk, burying her face in her palms. Dealing with customers was annoying enough, but it was worse when they were assholes.

Then, her peace was disturbed; a knock on the cubical signalling an invasion of her… everything. She didn't necessarily like being disturbed. So with a huff she sat up, turning to look over at the little chunk of wall that was taken out to mimic a door. No one was there. Emma raised a brow. More knocking, and she realised it obviously wasn't coming from the door. Perking up a little, she turned to look, and hanging over her cubicle was her buddy Henry. Raising a brow again, Emma just stared.

“Hey, Emma?” Henry leaned down against the thin wall, his chin resting on the edge with ease. Emma stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to speak, but when she realised he wasn't going to continue without verbal acknowledgement — he was always like that, something about not wanting to bother women. — she let out a slow, long sigh.

“Hey, Henry. Did you need something?” The woman asked, and he looked down by her printer that was neatly tucked under her desk. “Well, I was trying to print off some reports and I might've accidentally sent them to your printer.” He inquired, and Emma looked down at said printer. She huffed and leaned down, shuffling through the tray before pulling out a few sheets of paper, handing them over.

“These them?” The brunette asked, and the older man smiled. He took them and looked them over, nodding in approval. “Yeah, these are mine! Thank you!” Hidgens beamed, and before he could lean back over to his desk (he was standing on his chair, very bad idea), Emma spoke. “Hey, just remember. You wanna print from the HP Laserjet, not the HP Inkjet.” She gave him a small smile and a thumbs up—he was one of her best friends, after all—and he nodded. “Right! Thanks, buddy.” And with that, he disappeared.

Another sizable bite of nothing. The office is silent, mindlessly clicking away on their computers and phones being rang up by either old people or people too young to understand how to do stuff. After a moment, Melissa poked her head into the cubicle, smiling uncomfortably wide.

“Hi, Emma!” The woman, her boss, grinned, standing while holding a pen in her hand. She was clicking it uncomfortably fast, and it was bothering Emma unbelievably. The woman plastered a fake smile, and she turned to look at her. “Hey, Melissa.” Emma replied, and leaned back on her chair. Melissa stared for a solid second before returning to her bubbly self. “Can you have those reports on my desk by the end of your shift? Thaaannks!” She chirped, before happily skipping off. Emma furrowed her brows.

In a cubicle nearby sat Theodore Spankoffski, senior technical analyst at CCRP. He picked up a phone and raised a brow, listening to the voice on the other side.

“Ccrp technical, this is Theo.” He spoke, fidgeting with a pen to the beat of his voice. After a moment of silence, he perked up, his eyebrows raising excitedly as he recognized the female voice on the other phone. “Jenny! Hello, I—” A beat of silence. “Oh… you're going to be late again?” He sighed quietly, smoothing out his mustache. “Wh- not coming home at all? But, honey..” he lowered his voice, “it's cuddle night.” Another moment of muffled chatter over the phone. “Well don't you think I'm tired too? The counselor says at least once a month! Gosh, Jenny… fine. How about tomorrow then? We can make it romantic! Go on a date, go to a beach… a hotel…” He went silent. “Oh… you're right, we should stick to the schedule. Good bye, Jen. Jen? I love you!” He quickly got out, before he was hung up on.

Soon after, Ted pulled out a cigarette from his coat pocket, shakily lighting it and moving the cancer stick to his lips. Emma caught on and turned to look over at him, her eyebrows raised as she noticed him with the lighter. “Ted, Ted..” she called out, and the man she called turned to look at her with such sweet puppy eyes. Emma hesitated.

“Yes?” He replied quietly, and Emma let out a low sigh. “You.. you can't smoke in here.” Spankoffski pulled the cigarette out from between his lips, his own eyebrows raising as if he hadn't noticed. He put out the cigarette on the desk before throwing it out, and pulling out a flask from his other jacket pocket. Emma sighed, but before she could complain, Ken Davidson appeared, clutching a clipboard in his hand.

“Hi, Emma.” The long-haired man smiled, his head lolling to the side as he admired the brunette in front of him. Emma sighed, burying her face in her hands as she just wanted to get to work. That's what she was being paid for, not to sit around and do absolutely nothing. Letting out a low sigh, Perkins turned, her soft brown eyes narrowing towards the man at the entrance of her cubicle.

“Hey, Ken.” She replied softly, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the clipboard in his hand. She didn't say anything, however, waiting for him to speak. Davidson’s smile continued to beam; you'd be able to see it from miles away. “So... would you want to join the company softball team? I have the sign up—” Before he could finish, Emma raised her hand, shaking her head as she reached for her thermos full of coffee, which she then realised is empty.

“Yeah…. no.” She replied, not missing a beat as she stared at the man through her eyelashes. Ken frowned, looking down at the mostly sign–up sheet, before looking back at Emma. “It might be fun.” He urged, and Emma shook her head again. “Yeah… I don't want to though.” Davidson pouted, before walking away. After a moment, Emma sighed, standing up from her chair and heading into the hallway lined with walls.

“Hey, does anyone want anything from Beanies? Ted? Henry?” Emma approached Henry's cubicle, smiling. Hidgens sat there, mindlessly refreshing his page until he noticed Emma, smiling. “No, I have to stay.” He replied, “last week Chad took Max to see Hamilton in New York City just to show me up! So, when there's more, I'm going to take him to see Mamma Mia at the old Starlight Theater!” He exclaimed proudly, before turning to look at her.

“Hey, Max likes you, y'know. Remember how you used to watch him when he was little and I couldn't? Maybe you can come with, size me up? Make me look cool?” He crossed his arms slightly, and Emma quickly shook her head. “No can do.” She replied, and Hidgens raised his brow.

“Why not? Are you busy?”

“No, I'm not busy.”

“...So you'd rather do nothing, than go to see Mamma Mia! with me?”

Emma sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder with a smile. “I'd rather do anything than go see Mamma Mia! But hey, do you want anything from Beanies?” A beat of silence, before Hidgens spoke. “...I just want my boyfriends back.”

Perkins sighed, and she began to head for the door before being stopped by office sleezeball Charlotte Sweetley. Basically everyone on the floor knew that Charlotte and Ted were fucking behind Jenny’s back, and yet nobody said anything. They all knew Jenny deserved it when she used to visit the office — back when she cared about being caught — but they didn't dare tell her. Charlotte put a hand on Emma's chest, grinning smugly as she raised a brow.

“You going to Beanies without me?” She grinned, and Emma raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Char, can you please fuck off?” Unfortunately, Charlotte rarely took no for an answer (unless it came to sex). Charlotte shook her head, “no, no no no no. Y’wanna know what I heard? I heard that waiters are twelve times more horny than the average person!” Emma sighed. She really hated this chick. Shaking her head, she sighed, burying her head in her hands.

“Charlotte, I could actually give less than a shit about horny waiters, I just want coffee.” She sighed, and Charlotte didn't seem convinced. She cocked her head, and she seemed smug. “Really? Y’know, there's a Starbucks across the street… why don't you go over there? Is it because of the… y’know.” She stopped. Emma lifted her head from her hands, and she turned to look at her.

“The fucking what, Char?” She retorted, and the curly-haired woman laughed. “The latte hottay, obviously!” She cackled, and Perkins just sighed. “I'm leaving. See you in a bit.” She huffed, and Charlotte quickly called out to her.

“Hey! Get me a chai iced tea, eh?! Ah….”

[iamsoconfusedallofthetime]

Eternally grateful that I grew up WITHOUT ai so that I could, y'know, actually learn how to do shit.

Like- drawing?

Middle school me was on those Naruto art tutorials like no other. I used my good thin tip Prisma markers that my brother stole for me up on shitty Deidara and Urushihara drawings on the back of my English assignments, and pissed off my teachers cause I never paid attention. And now I can draw pretty fucking decently, both in an anime style and a somewhat realistic one.

Writing? Wattpad fanfiction both traumatized me (Citrus Scale will always stay in the back of my mind no matter how much I try to lock it up) and showed me- not exactly how to write but what kind of writing I enjoyed reading and what styles to copy until I formed my own. Like how to break up scenes and how to write dialogue and how to keep a character in character. I couldn't always do that last one well the first time but I learned to recognize when the characters i was writing would never fucking do that.

And now, other than my lack of self discipline, I'm pretty good at writing. At least I know where I struggle. I still need to remember that I don't always have to perfect the first draft and that sometimes first drafts can just be first drafts, but I'm doing well.

So damn grateful that I can write my own fucking essays and draw my own art and use my damn braincells to actually come up with something on my own instead of relying on a fuckass robot to predict pixels based on probability and smash stolen artwork together.

"Not everyone is privileged-" Art was never something being gatekept from you. The tutorials I used in middle school and a million other new ones are perfectly available to you. Poor artists have always found a way. Disabled artists have always found a way. Busy artists have always found a way. Don't type a prompt into a machine and call it "art" like you put an ounce of effort into it.

My cringe ass middle school sketchbooks and half written fanfiction has more value than something you didn't even bother to make yourself.

"I'm not that creative. I can't come up with a story or characters" dawg I was using fucking GACHA LIFE to make character designs! The first one was basic as shit! It was just a ginger fox woman with a black hoodie and ripped jeans on cause that's what I thought was cool! And that was ok, that was just where I was starting! You will grow! You will learn! Just put in some fucking effort and have some damn patience!

"my fandom is small and I want more fic/art to consume" MAKE IT THEN. No one wants something made by a machine. Most people have writing requests! Wait for them to open and request something! Or learn to write it yourself.

There are writing prompts that you can use to practice. No one is expecting you to become Mary Shelly overnight. Use them.

There are hundreds of "Let's make an OC" videos you can use. No one is expecting you to recreate the Mona Lisa next week. Use them.

Actually - here a quick tutorial on fleshing out ideas:

Throw out any fear if being cringe. Today's cringe is tomorrows skill

Start with something or someone small. Let's take, idk, a jacket?

What does the jacket look like? What does it do. In this step it usually helps if you decide on a genre. Is it fantasy? Sci-fi? Let's go with fantasy.

Fantasy jacket. Cool. Does this jacket do anything? Or does it belong to someone? Let's say the jacket itself does something.

The jacket can be cursed or blessed or have some type of spell on it. Maybe whoever wears it can't be hurt.

If whoever wears the jacket can't be hurt, then what happens when you take it off? Does it just remove protection or does all the damage you were supposed to have obtained while wearing it manifest all at once? AKS YOURSELF QUESTIONS!

Think about how it was made. Who made the jacket? Was it always cursed? What kind of world does it belong to that made it's existence necessary in the first place? Was it made as a gift for a prince or by an old mad wizard? Think.

Make a story. Maybe the jacket was intended as a gift and has been passed down a bloodline as a double edged sword; something that let this family win wars and topple nations, but seals their fates if they take it off. Maybe it was something shared among orphans in a slump and protects them. Maybe your story follows the current wearer of the jacket and the consequences it brings. Maybe your story is from the perspective of the jacket itself.

The world is your oyster. Think about something. Expand on it. Then write it. Draw it. Make a comic and post it or keep it tucked away in your notes app.

Don't give up after your first attempts turn out like shit. You're not gonna learn in a day, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Just create something! Go make a friend to bounce ideas off of if you have to!

Here's some art tutorials I like that you can use:

How to draw poses: https://youtu.be/4SHnOJGRmJw?si=cvjNGVt8Xs-YCSsd

How to draw character interaction

https://youtu.be/_XxjaH2dXR4?si=v17DjAeEKNBGxE_i

Drawing perspective:

https://youtu.be/g9ge4XBNRwA?si=QsC4rDfmARVYNVfx

Urban object sketches:

https://youtu.be/SDQEaJY291A?si=ID6jA_NCSMmkhIJe

Urban sketching (buildings more so)

https://youtu.be/yocInfqlYqw?si=krSQyWU8vLonwYL9

Drawing clothes and folds:

https://youtu.be/a1O1OQglA7w?si=oaqUusLMQPauI6ro

Find your art style:

https://youtu.be/hM_Mme3yvss?si=Tpt-ReJ4HMLFHfdH

Colors theory:

https://youtu.be/pAK0cvVQr_4?si=BI_zjp8RwgfIQhsP

There are hundreds of tutorials online. Find them and use them.

[soaps-mohawk]

Hehehe thank you for giving me the permission to yap. Idk how long this will end up being so grab a snack to read-

(and to my ask before. I agree with you. I was close to rage quitting SO MUCH but then I'd cry cause I didn't want to loose where I was in the mission so I cried my way through it. Darn you Kyle for falling out of that plane... and yes. I used youtube vids for the alone mission HELP)

Okaayyy my fic idea. Its possibly going to be a dystopien omegaverse fic, reader is a omega, Price and Ghost are alpha's and Soap and Gaz betas (I've always imagined them like that since reading ur fic, but i make them other things depending on the ship. and what the story is like. like nikprice, i oftern think of alpha x alpha or make John a omega heh)

So outline part 1 is, the worlds population has been greatly plumeting, since the old goverment wasnt strict as the new one. The new goverment takes over, and builds a intitute that forces omegas into it as soon as they present to teach them to be the 'perfect omega'. its one of those VERY messed up places, like the guards or workers dont give a damn, they get no help and are brainwashed to not tell anyone abt how it works. (This was one of the parts where i was scared it was close to urs, thats why im yapping now so if u think its too close u can scold me and tell me to think of smt else LOL)

As soon as omega's hit 18, they are sent out into a pack or with an alpha. betas can join a waiting list, but alphas get priority. Now, when the rest of the task force was offered, they declined. But poor Johnny just wanted his own lass, he didn't think it'd be bad. so he joins the waiting list, and ends up getting reader. And well the rest arent happy cause now they gotta help look after this traumatised lil thing.

What i was thinking, Johnny has never had a omega, because of the intitute and goverment. So he has no proper idea on how to care for an omegas needs, like heats and everything. so he ends up getting the rest of the team to slowly help (it overtime becomes a poly relationship) but as reader feels safer, she ends up feeling safe enough to talk about what happened in the institute (cause whos gonna come after a military pack, they're protecting her?!)

but ofc, the goverment finds out and like nup they aint having that, and they take her back. (this is sometime idk when) but they all end up turning against the whole goverment and yada yada. Theres prob A LOT i would change so far and add, but I havent gotten that in depth yet.

do u think thats too simular to CRCB... idk I was thinking about it once then i remember oh crap thats sounding a lil familiar- part of the reason i wanted to tell you abt it, also just bc i wanted to yap abt it bc if i end up writing/changing it its just rlly interesting. you dont veen gotta answer this if its too close just msg me and scold me HELP-

anyway ill stop my yapping before it turns into a novel.

Reminder to get a drink and a snack, I hope you can get plenty of rest <3 (apologies for any spelling mistakes, I'm half asleep and couldn't be entirely bothered to reread and Im just praying it makes sense. Grammarly dont like me)

I think that's a great idea!! Very unique!! I'm glad I could inspire you to write your own fic and I don't mind the similar ideas. (So long as credit is given where credit is due)

[coffeeailee]

hey miss ailee! nice blog you have here ^^

anywho, may i request your general headcanons for ranpo x reader? please tell me if you require more info! thank you and have fun writing! <3

———﹒♡﹒ as sweet as candy.

characters﹒ Edogawa Ranpo

fandom﹒ bungo stray dogs

genre﹒ fluff, romance

This post might contain incorrect grammar/spelling and out of character, it also might be a little bit too cringe, proceed at your own risk.

— ﹒﹒ Ranpo ☆

— When you first started liking Ranpo, it was the way your eyes always managed to find him in a room, the way your heart skipped a beat anytime you caught him stealing a glance your way-the little things that said it all. And Ranpo, sharpness of perception aside, noticed it the very moment it happened. He didn't need words at all, the way you looked at him said it all. But even then, he said nothing. Ranpo wasn't quite sure how to approach it, or how to acknowledge the fact that those feelings you had for him weren't one sided. So he kept his distance, held his usual aloofness close as though this too was a passing thought. But inside, a small part of him couldn't help it when you were around.

— As more time passed and your feelings for him deepened, the more Ranpo picked up on little things you did, how you'd always ask if he was okay, how you made sure he didn't work too much, or how you seemed to be that one person not fazed by his snide comments and straight forwardness. Slowly but surely, the walls Ranpo had put up started to come down. Not that he'd admit it, of course. But you were different, and somewhere along the way, he found himself drawn to you in a way he hadn't expected.

— It became painfully obvious to everyone around you. The rest of the Armed Detective Agency could see it, and even the most oblivious in the group began to notice how you two were constantly together. An undeniable bond, that was you and Ranpo against the world, no one could disregard it. It was because he shared snacks with you, because he did tiny, kind things that he didn't always do with anyone else, and it was in the softening of his eyes when he looked at you, in offering a smirk that was customarily yours alone. Dazai, keen as ever to observe such signals, could see that. "You two are so obvious, it's almost painful to watch," he'd joke, though Ranpo would just roll his eyes and change the subject, not willing to admit the truth.

— Whenever you had a mission, Ranpo was always the first to jump up, eager to offer his help. "Of course, I'm the best person for the job! Nobody's better at this than I am," he'd exclaim with his typical confidence and with a smile to match. Turn him down? Ranpo isn't really one to sulk, honestly, for his emotions readily flit into the open, dramatically flop himself into a chair, miserable as can be. The rest of the agency would most likely hear a grumbled, "It's fine, I wasn't waiting for you to need me anyway," followed by an exaggerated pout that would last for hours.

— But if you did take him up on the offer, well, things would go rather differently. You might think that you'd be the one doing the work, but Ranpo had other plans. He would suddenly take over the mission with a mischievous grin, leaving you to just watch as he did everything with ease. "Why bother exhausting yourself when the world's greatest detective is right here? ", he'd say, as if it was the most apparent thing in the world, and you'd find yourself getting swept up in his energy, letting him take the reins while you relaxed.

— He's always mostly worried that you won't get too tired, like there's absolutely no point in your doing something he can do so much quicker, and in his mind, better. Once the mission was complete, there was always one thing you could count on, Ranpo would drag you to a candy store. Or, if you were lucky, an ice cream parlor. You didn't even have to ask, he would insist that it was a great way to "celebrate" your successful mission. You'd find yourself smiling as he pushed different candies or snacks on you, his excitement practically contagious. "Here, try this one! You've never had it before, right?! " He'd grin like a kid in a candy store himself, enjoying the moment just as much as you did.

— Of course, you didn't mind. There was just something so sweet about sharing those moments with him, and he was practically radiating joy as you both indulged in the most basic of pleasures. The time finally came when you could no longer hide your feelings for him. You took a deep breath and confessed. The look on Ranpo's face was priceless, an amalgamation of surprise and playful disappointment. "Took you long enough," he'd tease, his eyes sparkling with so much warmer inside. "But it's fine. I like you too, y'know?"

— Ranpo wasn't one for dramatic declarations, but in that moment, his words held a volume within them. His feelings toward you were already so clear to everyone around him, even if he himself hadn't been aware of it. And with that, everything shifted. Since then, Ranpo made sure you were always paired up on missions. That is to say, not by chance but he'd go out of his way to request it.

— "It's gonna be so much more fun if we're together," he said with a mischievous grin. Whatever the mission was, he didn't care, just as long as you were there, he was fine. He had been more than happy to follow Fukuzawa's orders but with one condition, that he get to have you by his side. Of course, it wasn't just about work. Ranpo would introduce you to new snacks, always be on the lookout for new things to try, each time excitedly getting ready to share with you as he beamed with pride when you sampled something new.

— "I bet you've never had this before! This one's my favorite," he'd say, eyes sparkling with excitement. It was clear his joy didn't just come from the snacks themselves, it came from sharing those experiences with you. Your dates with Ranpo became a simple, sweet affair. Whether it was an excursion to the candy store, having a picnic in the park with snacks in tow, or even wandering around a festival enjoying the views and the treats, the best of it all was that you were together. Ranpo didn't need anything more than your company, the same went for you. He always let you be happy, always found new ways to make you laugh, and he always saw you never went tired or stressed because, for as long as the world's greatest detective was there, you didn't need to bother about a thing at all.

— Author's note

﹒﹀﹒ I am so embarrassed reading the previous one that I am actually shocked people liked it in the first place..

Somehow every time I read a story of mine, I always ended up cringing on it. No clue why.

Also this is kinda rushed so mb if I made a mistake...