#despite the fact it was what was keeping me reading bc the little hints of something more

[cinnabeat]

sometimes you read something and youre like why am i reading this what is the point and sometimes you read something and its like there is virtually no plot but i am simply reading to see this one guy completely fail at everything

[incognit0slut]

Angel

PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.

content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!

“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”

A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”

“I’m serious.”

“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”

His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."

“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”

“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”

“That’s kind of the point.”

And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.

How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?

Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.

He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.

Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.

Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.

It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.

The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.

Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.

His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.

“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”

“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Then please enlighten me.”

Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.

“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”

Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”

The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

“You… you mean you want… more than this? More than just us… here?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”

For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.

“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”

Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”

“Yeah.”

“As in… you have feelings for me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So you’re not just… turned on right now?”

“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”

His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"

"To avoid traffic?"

You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."

His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”

“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."

He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.

“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."

A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.

“I'm… glad you finally caught on."

"I'm catching on now.”

His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.

“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.

There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.

“Since when?”

You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.

“Since?” he prompts again.

You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."

He absorbs your words. "That’s… more than a while."

"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”

Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.

“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say…”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing."

He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”

You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.

"Remember when… you taught Violet how to… ride her bike?”

He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”

“The very first time.”

“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”

You nod. “When I… saw you with her that day, I-I… I got curious.”

His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her… and I started thinking about what it would be like… to have your kids.”

If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.

“You… thought about that?”

Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”

“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”

“Really?”

“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”

You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”

Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”

His jaw clenches.

He’s so close to completely losing it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.

“Why.. why not?”

“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.

“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.

“I do,” you manage to say.

“You want me that way?”

You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”

The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.

“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."

"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."

His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”

When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.

Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.

He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."

Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”

He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”

“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”

He nods absentmindedly. “We can… still grab the condom if you want…”

“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”

He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.

“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me…” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”

He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.

"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."

"Here's another thing you should know about me.”

He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.

A heartbeat in between.

“I really like it rough."

That’s all it takes.

He slams his hips into yours.

Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.

“Jesus… you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.

Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.

"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”

You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.

Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer… Please…”

He lets out a sigh.

No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?

What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?

He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.

He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.

You’re an angel wrapped in sin.

“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so… so deep.”

You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.

“Spencer…”

His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.

“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”

“Ngh.”

Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.

He needs to feel it more than once.

He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.

You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.

“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”

Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.

“I want to.”

And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.

Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”

Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?

You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.

It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.

It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.

His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”

You can barely feel your legs.

“Speechless,” is your answer.

His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”

“Please.”

A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”

“About taking advantage of you.”

You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.

And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.

“Say it again.”

He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”

He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.

You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.

“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.

You shake your head. “I begged for this.”

He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”

A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.

Angel, angel, angel.

He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.

The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.

His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.

He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”

You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.

“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”

Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.

When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.

His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.

He slides two fingers inside you.

Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh… I—I can’t…”

He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”

Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.

“Spencer…”

He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”

The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.

He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.

If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.

Spencer smiles wryly to himself.

Since when did he become so religious?

Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.

“…no more.”

He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.

Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.

Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.

“That was…” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “…very reckless of us.”

With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”

He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”

You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”

Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”

He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Which part? You said a lot of things.”

“You know what I mean,” he insists.

“I know. But I want to hear it again.”

The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every single part of you.”

You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”

“But... what if it changes things for her?”

“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."

You mull over his words. “You think so?”

“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”

He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.

He almost said it. He almost called you angel.

“What?”

He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.

And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.

But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.

He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.

He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.

And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.

[multifandombookstore]

ROTG x cupid!reader

pairing: platonic guardians x cupid!reader, hinting at romantic Jack x reader

genre: fluff?

warnings: very vague mention of your death to become a guardian 

growing up, you had always been very kind and just full of love

so, it was no surprise when you became the guardian of love, Cupid

everyone believes you to be this calm and mystical creature, but in actuality, you’re quite...chaotic 

if it wasn’t for North, who you view as a father figure, you’d be causing quite the stir with all of your chaos 

when you first became a guardian, you were confused as to why The Man in the Moon would want you 

aren’t guardians supposed to protect the children or something like that? 

well, apparently that’s not all they do

besides, your love isn’t just romantic love

you also do familial love and friendly love, even though you don’t dabble in those categories much since romantic love is where people mainly struggle

so, it makes sense that you can aide the guardians by helping children find love and be loved

North immediately took you under his wing, which you find out later he does for everyone

he explained the whole guardian thing to you and helped you find your way

Tooth ended up becoming a sister-like figure and Bunny a brother-like figure

despite Sandy being much older than you, you act like he’s your younger sibling, almost like he’s your own child. He’s just so sweet and precious, okay?

when Jack comes into the picture though, all bets are off on keeping you contained 

you two cause havoc together that even North can’t contain 

you two especially like messing with the elves and Yeti, and of course Bunny, to his dismay 

something funny you like to do is whenever anyone in your makeshift family starts arguing (read: Jack and Bunny), you’ll hit them with a special kind of friendship arrow where they basically will forget what they were arguing about and just stand there for a solid two minutes hugging

it’s even funnier when it wears off though since they’ll be disgusted at the fact they’re hugging (before they get mad at you and chase you around North’s shop)

everyone loves helping you out on Valentine’s Day!! 

Bunnymund is usually in charge of the flowers and making all the bouquets and arrangements

North is in charge of the little gifts that lovers will share with one another

Sandy is in charge of giving them all dreams of their sweethearts

Tooth is in charge of sneakily sliding love letters and notes where ever you tell her to 

and Jack is in charge of causing ‘accidents’ to happen. Oh, you thought your books just randomly got too heavy on one side, causing them to crash to the floor next to the hot guy standing beside you which just so happens to grab his attention and make him help you which just so happens to spark conversation between you two? Yeah, I have some news for you

all of them are there for you whenever you get sad that a couple didn’t work out, when someone abandons a child, and so on. They remind you that you’re only one person and that you can’t help everyone all at once 

as for Jack, this could go one of two ways

he can end up being like your brother and best friend combined, or he can end up becoming your lover

it’s up to you what to imagine ;)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLIST

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Tag List: @renatavieira, @jaeeyre, @faraum, @whyareyouhere66, @thatonedragonking, @lelelele00​, @fanfics-i-rb-bc-im-a-coward​ (some of y’all intereacted with my one post asking if I should post for JF so here you are lol) ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[blackjackkent]

Time for more Durge adventures! We've got Gale and Lae'zel so time to head straight for the grove and pick up Wyll to complete Rakha's starting party. (This might adjust over time; realistically Jaheira might be taking Gale's place at some point bc I love Jaheira and also [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS], and it's entirely possible Rakha will surprise me with who else she decides to get along with. But this is the starting plan at least. XD )

This of course means we kick off by spilling some goblin guts, which should make the beast in Rakha's head happy. o.o;

Before that, though, we get the same extra dialogue options with Lae'zel and Gale that we got with Shadowheart, so might as well start getting a gauge on what they think about their new traveling companion.

"My past is a mystery to me. Could the parasite have caused that?"

I find Rakha's relationship with Lae'zel already quite interesting, because Lae'zel's tremendous assertiveness and decisiveness allows her to get shit done while Rakha is going off the rails - but also serves as focus and direction, an anchor point for Rakha's instincts towards rage and violence. If asked who of her current three companions would provide her the most trustworthy advice, Rakha would likely - at least at this moment - answer Lae'zel.

This is partly interesting because, as we know, Lae'zel is actually young as fuck and perhaps has more confidence and training than actual wisdom of experience.

She doesn't really have any good answers regarding Rakha's past, though.

"Ceremorphosis takes all of you - mind, body, soul. An ordinary tadpole would eat at your memories until they were lost to the void. But our tadpoles are far from ordinary. I wonder if another factor's in play."

(A side note: Lae'zel was not present when Gale popped the word ceremorphosis, which means that she knows this word in Common, which is actually pretty impressive. I love that there is more than one subtle hint in the way she is written indicating that Lae'zel is actually pretty fucking smart despite her 10INT on paper. This was one of the things Hector liked about her too.)

"I've had these urges. I want to kill. I want blood." Just as she was with Shadowheart, Rakha is matter-of-fact here. Little point in hiding the matter.

Lae'zel seemed unbothered by Rakha's burst of chaotic violence against the tieflings, and is no more phased by this admission either. "Many a good warrior savors the scent of blood in the air. There's no shame in a capricious murder now and again. Too many, though, and you waste energy and dull your weapon. My suggestion: attack with purpose and savor your kills. And if the urge proves too much... well, I'm sure we can find you a goblin or two to carve up."

This is not, strictly speaking, healthy advice from an outside perspective; however, Rakha listens with surprisingly rapt attention.

Attack with purpose. She carves the words on the inside of her own skull. Yes. This is what troubles her about what she has come to term "the beast" - the blinding gleeful destruction that takes over and relishes death for its own sake. Her own rage has its place; it will keep her alive, and those who seek to stand in her way will do her world no harm by leaving it. But the beast silences what little is left of her own mind. It controls her and uses her and seeks only blood, and blood, and blood, and blood, and blood...

Lae'zel's words carry the first truth she has been certain of since she woke up. Attack with purpose, and savor your kills.

Yes.

-----

Her similar conversation with Gale is a bit more of a mixed bag.

"My memories before the nautiloid are shrouded in darkness."

"Memory loss isn't usually a symptom of ceremorphosis. If it is, they've forgotten to write it down in any text I've read on the subject. Then again, our case isn't exactly usual. Perhaps whatever's causing our tadpoles to remain in stasis has also affected your mind. If ceremorphosis takes place, all trace of your former self will be subsumed into the mind flayer's hive. So to still be here, if a mite forgetful? Still a win in my book."

An optimistic outlook, under the circumstances. On some level, Rakha was hoping that Gale might have a more specific answer to what happened to her, and that he doesn't is disappointing. But as she doesn't have any other better explanation, she still assumes this whole mess is the tadpole's fault until she figures something else out.

"I have violent thoughts. Depraved thoughts. Ones that refuse to go away..."

"We all have those from time to time! I once wished a most impure demise on a colleague of mine who bought the last remaining copy of Etheril's Enchiridion of Enchanting Easements. First edition, too. As regards your own morbid little fantasies, I'm sure they're nothing to worry about - so long as they remain fantasies."

Rakha lost track of everything he was saying somewhere in the middle of this paragraph, but she picks it up again near the end, and frowns. She remembers the intellect devourer, newborn, crunching between her fingertips. That was no fantasy, whatever Gale might think she meant.

[quodekash]

A Way Too In-Depth Over-Analysis of Sorvus

I apologise in advance. For all of this. There’s a lot. These guys have inserted themselves into every empty renting space in my brain and uprooted all the taken spaces and moved in to everything. So to appease my brain I had to do this and then it just kept going. Also I’m Australian, so I have different spellings of some words, like “favourite” and you’re just gonna have to deal with that. Also also warning for very long paragraph rambles from me.

You’re literally gonna get the entire story here but with commentary at every paragraph. And sometimes four times in one paragraph. Anyway. 

1. “For weeks” means they’ve spent heaps of time together, and using this instance as a guide, probably with no one but them. They’ve progressively learnt more and more about each other, yet later Soren is still super bright and excited to learn that Corvus’ favourite season is autumn, and that’s just so pure.

2. I would like to see this please. 

3. “[…]lost most of the time” implies that Corvus won sometimes. teLL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT EVERY SINGLE ONE PLS I NEED TO KNOW WHICH ONES CORVUS WON (and yeah I also just need more Sorvus content but what can I say, they mean everything to me) 

4. Corvus could probably just not participate, or tell Soren he’s too tired, or something along those lines. And yet he always tries his best, he still does it despite knowing he’ll probably lose. The fact that he’s not avoiding the challenges tells us that Corvus truly appreciates Soren’s friendship/companionship/company/etc and is fully willing to do tasks that he’s not great at to spend time with Soren and put a smile on his face. And you can’t tell me that’s not love, whether romantic or platonic or whatever. Honestly, if Corvus’ top love language is anything, I’d say it’s quality time. The other four just don’t quite fit, and, from the little we see of Corvus on screen, it seems like he’s most content when spending time with his favourite people. As for Soren, you could argue his love language is literally any of them. But I think his top two are words of affirmation and quality time - he was always so invalidated his whole life, mostly by his own father (I swear I’ll make a post of this at some point). His mother left, his father neglected him, his sister betrayed him. That’s gotta bring trust issues. So after all that, he’d appreciate someone telling him he’s worth it and telling him they love him. He’d appreciate spending time with those he loves, not even doing anything, just sitting and enjoying each other’s company, without his flaws being pointed out, without the stress of trying to keep his family together, just sitting there and loving and breathing and being. 

 1. This part could be a metaphor?? Corvus wants to go further with relationships at an easy pace where Soren wants to speed it up? Corvus is more of a peaceful person and Soren is scared of losing people and missing out on particular moments of relationships so he tries to experience it all at once?? It’s entirely possible I’m reading too far into this but I’m treating this like a school assignment, where you have to read too far into everything. You decide whether this is a good interpretation or not, I can’t decide. 

2.a. If Soren has mentioned it “every time”, that implies a few things. The first is that they go up there enough for Soren to mention it a lot. Soren has a favourite place in the entire castle, and he wants to share it with Corvus (and there’s no one up there but them ;] IM KIDDING- or am I? Honestly I can’t tell, you decide.)  2.b. The second thing is that Corvus has heard Soren talk about this part of the castle  a lot. But there’s not even the slightest hint of description of Corvus’ annoyance at having to listen to Soren constantly say this is one of his favourite places, he just lets him tell him, over and over. It’s getting little personal here, but Soren totally has ADHD, which makes my job easier bc I also have ADHD.  2.b.ii. I personally forget all the time if I’ve told this particular person this particular story/fact/whatever it is or not, so I constantly tell the same story over and over. It feels exciting bc each time it feels like I’m telling them for the first time, since I don’t remember the previous times. So when the person/people I’m talking to don’t lost their patience or get annoyed or anything when I tell them something I’ve already told them, and instead they just react like it’s the first time they’ve heard it, it feels really validating. So I’m thinking Soren feels the same, and Corvus not showing a hint of annoyance despite hearing this a lot feels really good to my neurodivergent brain and probably feels good to Soren’s, too. 

1. Corvus. Notices things. About. Soren. And not just recently, it’s “a long time ago”, meaning he’s observed Soren and committed his habits to memory for years. I love them. 

2. ADHDDDDDDD 

3. He ✨cares✨ 

1. Something about the way this is worded is so beautiful. A sentence of peaceful description in the midst of casual dialogue. It makes it feel like they’re one person, staring at the beautiful view, taking it all in, together with each other but alone from anyone else to distract them from the gorgeous autumn horizon. 

1. Like I said earlier (by earlier, I mean the literal first thing I said. There’s still a lot to go. This thing is called a way too in-depth over-analysis for a reason), Soren is so purely excited with the knowledge that Corvus’ favourite season is autumn. Autumn, the season they’re presently in. Meaning, for a few months, Corvus is always experiencing his favourite season, meaning he’s probably always feeling some amount of happiness/content, and the thought that Corvus is happy makes Soren happy. 

2. They’re both just standing on a castle, next to each other, and staring out at nature. It probably feels like they’re the only people in the world. If they’re the only people, then to each of them, the most important thing in existence is (probably) the other. It also might be a metaphor to something, but I can’t figure out what it is. It’s possible the metaphor is something I’ve already mentioned. But if anyone thinks of anything, please lemme know, it’s an itch I can’t reach so if anyone can, please scratch it for me. (I made a metaphor about not being able to figure out a metaphor. Metaphor-caption or something, idk man) 

3. Such a simple statement. Standing in such a relaxed way. He’s at peace, while alone with one of the most energetic people like ever. 

1. That’s a date. Surely I’m not the only one seeing this, right? Soren, you’re describing a date. Idk if you realised, but that’s a date. You’ve just suggested a date. And Corvus will say yes. 

2. Soren’s horrified that Corvus would possibly be mistreated. He’s also, more importantly, scared that it wasn’t mistreatment but Corvus’ choice, because if it was a choice then Corvus might not like beds and castles and other people and Soren can’t handle the thought that Corvus might leave him, just like everyone else he’s ever loved and trusted. 

3. Help now I’m picturing little forest dates, with picnics and lying next to each other, staring at the canopy of leaves above them, and glancing at each other every time the other looks away and smiling and holding hands and Soren lying with his head on Corvus’ chest and a leaf falling right on Soren’s face and Corvus’ laugher rumbling his belly and making Soren sit up and throw the leaf at him and they laugh and smile and talk and they’re in love help 

1. I kinda touched on this earlier, but Soren can’t fathom the idea of being without Corvus. Probably because of losing his entire family so Corvus is just about all Soren’s got left. And he’s really scared that he’ll lose him, too, and losing everyone would make Soren lost; lost and alone and scared and vulnerable and he needs a hug i volunteer as tribute and shut up that’s possible this is my post i make the rules but if i cant hug him then i volunteer Corvus as tribute 

2. (Yes we’re talking about sentence structure. This is a way too in-depth over-analysis, get over it already man.)  It’s repeated that something is bothering Soren. Repetition means emphasis, that the author wants us to know that it’s an important thing, so they say it a couple times. Something is bothering Soren, and that bothers Corvus. He wants to help Soren and get rid of this thing that’s bothering him (probably). 

3. Let me translate what Soren is trying to say here: “What about me? Do you like me?” He’s seeking validating and wanting to get Corvus to stay, because without Corvus he has nothing. 

1. Translation again: “I like you. I trust you. And trust is really important now, with everything that’s happened. There was a war. Everyone I’ve ever trusted betrayed me or left me. So please date me join the crown guard with me so I have more opportunities to ask you to date me it’s really big that I trust you so much, because I’ve been having issues with trust.” 

2. I have asd!corvus head canons, so eye contact here is really important and rare 

1. He’s paying attention to him. 

2. I like to imagine he did finger guns 

1. Imagine how this went down. “I like corvus a lot�� “yeah, he’s great! I want him to stay in katolis but hes more at home in the forest-“ “corvus should be crown guard… I really trust him.” “-yeah, cos you’re in love with him- I trust him too. You should ask him to date you join.” (ez totally ships it and tries to set them up a lot and you cant tell me otherwise) 

1. He’s trying to avoid Corvus seeing the truth in his eyes; that he doesn’t want Corvus to go, that he loves Corvus, that without Corvus he doesn’t know who or even what he is, because Corvus is all he has left. 

2. I know this is like an emotional flicker or whatever, but what if it’s literally pain and wounds that are hidden behind his protective armour? Soren broke like all his bones. There’s almost no way he doesn’t still get flashes/twinges of pain (I feel like there’s some kind of medical term for that but I’ve forgotten what it is). He definitely doesn’t tell anyone about it, but probably gets flashes of pain every so often, and Corvus has somehow managed to pick up on that. Maybe. 

1. People with ADHD are often over-thinkers (at least I think so? I don’t have any sources for it but I’m an over-thinker and so is everyone I know with ADHD. So probably.), so Corvus said it “as plainly as he could” to stop Soren from over-thinking it and spiralling. He gets it out, doesn’t stall, doesn’t mislead, doesn’t confuse. Just says it, and there it is, and Soren is so happy

1. I’ll admit it, I’m still thoroughly confused by this part but it’s fine cos they’re both happy and that makes me happy. 

and that’s all the shenanigans i have for you today. if you made it this far, flipping wow, because there is quite literally more analysis here than there is story. 

but that’s not all from me. 

no, i have eight notes on my phone ready for things to be added to them, and theyll be here… at some point. if you wanna be notified when i post them you can follow me i guess. or go to the tag at the bottom of each of these posts, ‘tdp rambles with bj’ (hopefully it’s worked) and you can follow that or something? idk. sorry, im bad at self-promos. uhh. yeah. anyway this was fun, im so tired but so thrilled to finally have all my thoughts out in once place. stay calm and ship sorvus, everyone. 

Have a gay day!  -BJ

[threehuskiesinatrenchcoat]

Oh my gosh, Graves knowing Alejandro likes him and using that to his advantage!!! I am!!! So fuckin!!!! On board!!!!!! I generally only write fluff despite loving to read angst and this genuinely makes me consider breaking that rule.

Imagine after the betrayal, Alejandro is slowly coming to terms with the fact that another lover has betrayed him (the trust issues are gonna skyrocket) and Graves keeps up the flirting just to get under his skin? Him mockingly calling Ale by the cute nickname he had for him? Trying to rile him up enough to make him spill secrets?

In a very dark version this could definitely go into the direction of '141 never finds Alejandro and Graves keeps and breaks him through manipulation and just general mind-fuckery'. Do with that what you will :D

Going back to Spanish, in the version where Graves got forced by Shepard to go along with the betrayal bc idk Shepard was threatening the shadows or something, Graves could maybe secretly inform Alejandro about it and stuff (we ignore that translators exist or maybe the situation doesn’t allow it). And Shepard would be none the wiser that Graves spilled everything to the "enemy".

Also no worries! I know life can be a lot, so no pressure to answer anything I send you immediately. Hope you enjoy the bird :)

okay but the _impact_ it's gonna have on him because he was so sure he's not going to make the same mistake again and here he is. 141 being a little shocked because they didn't even know and rudy feeling so bad for him and trying to talk to him and get some weight off of him and i feel like alejandro would just brush everyone off and wallow in this hurt and anger by himself. and he would definitely feel so guilty for compromising them. because, again, he was so sure that this time is going to be different and he was wrong and it's on him. and everything graves does after this would _definitely_ get to him on a personal level even when he tries to keep the professional cool. like we all saw what valeria's words did to him and that was after some time had passed, in these circumstances he'd definitely lose it

but also. i am so gonna think more about the dark version. this made me think of another idea purely for the sake of a little ooc darker more unhinged version of alejandro?? imagine like. alejandro that just goes along with whatever graves says. maybe 141 couldn't get him out in time and he just decides that they gave up on him for the sake of the mission. maybe graves' reasoning got to him and he tries to help and convince others but no one listens because rudy did once and valeria still did what she did and they're not taking that chance again. maybe he's just so done and tired and hurt after this that he goes along willingly. maybe all of the above in that exact order so it has a bigger impact. i like twisting good characters to the darker side okay. the things that would get them to abandon their principles even if it's out of character are fun to explore. and maybe i enjoy the thought of alejandro becoming graves' right hand man guard dog a little too much?

and the last idea is pretty cool actually! like, what if they're monitored really closely to make sure he will comply. he could disguise some hints as some friendly meaningless banter too in hopes that no one would bother to check. like he at least tried to do something so the whole thing wouldn't turn into a total disaster. and the rest is up to alejandro to get it right, keep his emotions in check and not get furious, and discuss it with 141 to form a plan that hopefully involves helping both sides

[yonemurishiroku]

how do you feel abt dark!percy

specifically, annabeth dying n percy losing his shit

Hmm.

Well, ngl, it’s quite a popular theme in fanfictions, btw. I have encountered a few even when my reading rule is ‘if it isn’t about Nico then I don’t care.’

Though, most of them are Percy killing Anklys and Annabeth being scared of him, thus resulting in his descend into darkness. Huh. How interesting is that.

Tbh, I do sometimes see Percy with a hint of anger issue. As in: when he blows up, it’s just straight up catastrophe. And I suppose it fits him, really. There’s someone (it’s Happy) who once compared Percy’s rage to tsunamis, and ngl I have a whole thesis lined up for that statement, but let’s just keep it there.

Anw. What I’m trying to say is that: the idea I have about Dark!Percy is, in general, him already having antagonist materials which are simply waiting to be unleashed.

It’s not totally baseless, btw. Percy canonically tried to annihilate Anklys - and he might have succeeded had it not been for Annabeth. And afaik, Percy has to constantly keeps his water-bending in check and even then he sometimes blows up the toilets?

Furthermore, if we’re really looking into it, Percy didn’t volunteer to be the hero. Not by his own will, I meant. Doing it to protect someone is not by his own will. Idk. My recollections of PJO might be a little bit fuzzy - but Percy has always existed in my mind as someone who have been forced into the position of a savior despite the fact that he was still reeling from life back then.

He literally called out the gods. Fought Ares. And probably have sassed some to the moon and back.

What I mean to say is that - Percy, imo, might not be fully bound to goodness the way an all-glory hero is.

So really, I don’t blame him if he decides to lose his shit someday. He’s the ocean. He deserves to rage.

It’s quite a magnificent sight, ngl. The whole blood-bending and stuff. My point of view is downright bias bc I love Nico too much but yeah, I suppose Percy wasn’t born a child of the Big Three for nothing.

That’s Percy for you. I’m sorry but if you’re looking forward to me talking about Percabeth, I can’t. I just cannot. I’m a petty, vengeful being. I have nothing against Percabeth - please, by all means, get marry and be happy - but I would refrain from focusing on them as much as I can. I don’t have a reason and I don’t need one.

Love you tho, I’m sorry I can’t give you the answer you expected.

[rucow]

ok here's my interpretation of the phantom, specifically female phantom bc im a lesbian and i crave more women characters in fiction who have actual depth and are a bit unhinged :'D

(please keep in mind that i haven't read the book yet and that my way of seeing her is based mostly on my own imagination and also me projecting very hard on her😭)

putting this under a read more bc its Long long

first, here is my art of fem!phantom ! and one more art of her

to begin, i headcanon the phantom to be named erica with a c, like the flower that grows in harsh conditions and that's very enduring and requires little water to thrive. i think it suits her! please look up "erica flower" and see for yourself :)

i think 35 is a good age for her, the same age as how long the broadway poto has been running for before closing :')

let's talk about her early life. she was born to a loving mother somewhere in eastern europe (modern day romania perhaps 👉👈), and her appearance was indeed unique but not disfigured. she was born with a birth mark of sorts that affected half of her face and her hair as well, causing strands of her black hair to lack pigment and appear as white (im thinking maybe vitiligo? idk exactly but the point is she looked Unique). she has grey eyes. besides that, as an infant she had a very quiet and calm personality as well, not really crying loudly like most babies do and often staring deeply at people, appearing "creepy" to them. (hint: she was just autistic)

erica's mother loved her. she thought these traits made her special and beautiful, not strange or unsettling. her mother would sing to little erica every day and night, but thats something erica doesn't remember, because her mother died far too soon (i like to keep the cause of death vague) and so little infant erica ended up in an orphanage.

now, the caretakers in the orphanage saw these unique traits of hers differently than her mother did. where erica's mother saw beauty and something special, these people saw Evil and Wrong. they thought they could pray away erica's "affliction" and "cure" her, both her appearance and her quiet reserved odd personality.

she was only about one year old when one of the orphanage caretakers tried a new way of "curing" erica via pouring acid on her little face. the acid dripped onto her neck as well. erica doesn't know this is what caused her scarring. as far as she knows, she has always looked the way she does. she thinks she was born this way, that she was doomed in some way, and sadly she will never know the truth: that this was Done to her

erica spent her first years of life in bandages and healing. even after she had healed, the orphanage caretakers kept her bandages on because they didn't like to See her. they didn't want to acknowledge what they'd done, so they kept her hidden and covered up and pretended her skin would be fine under the bandages.

(this is based on the 2004 film) the travelling fair. members would occasionally visit orphanages and other institutions while pretending to be interested in adopting, when in reality they were interested only in finding children they could exploit. when they saw little erica, who was still only a few years old, they knew they could make money off of her. the orphanage's caretakers were most relieved to be rid of her.

and then we all know what happened, and how a young madame giry took young erica and brought her to the opera and kept her safe and hidden. but erica was deeply traumatised and acted purely on instinct, she was completely nonverbal and nonresponsive. to this day, erica and madame giry still don't speak; their agreements are speechless and they both prefer it that way. erica is very uncomfortable acknowledging her past, so she secretly appreciates madame giry for not prying despite the fact that she witnessed little erica Murdering a whole grown man (again, she acted purely on instinct, she was protecting herself)

the opera was all she's ever known, and she has watched singers and managers and dancers come and go, while she remained. art and drama are all she's ever known. she's never felt the breeze in her hair or the sun on her face. she has access to the opera's roof, but she only goes there at nighttime when she can't be seen, and only on extremely rare occasions. art is her only escape and her only outlet. she doesn't just create music, she also paints, and she can sculpt if she has the materials for it. she creates any and all art

erica is incredibly smart as well, and has a vast knowledge on many topics despite lacking any form of education. she learned to read by watching the operas, because sometimes there would be signs and written words on the props. she paid close attention to any and all information she could get, and there were a lot of old things stored down there beneath the opera house that helped her learn and discover new things. but even so, her knowledge of the real world is incredibly limited. she has no idea what the sea sounds like, or what mountain air smells like

having so little to do, she focused her attention on the operas and on studying them, seeing what could be improved and thinking of how to make them come to life. she found most of the singers and dancers lacking, she felt no one really understood the passion required to make a performance feel alive. but that is probably because the performances were just a job to most of those people, while for erica it was her entire lifestyle. at the end of the day, the performers and managers and whatnot would go home to their families and see to their lives, while erica can never leave the opera house. she's fixated on every aspect of it, from the music to the choreography to the management... she constantly sees things that could be improved, and that leads me to my next point.

she started disguising as the phantom in order to help bring her vision to life, by communicating what she wants changed in the operas. of course, her social skills are lacking, so she puts on an act when interacting with anyone, and she doesn't let herself be seen. acting is the only way she knows how to approach another human, so adopting the role of a phantom wasn't hard for her. its easier to be the villain than to be herself. she is, in both literal and autistic terms, masking. she also sees how women are treated, and how they're not taken as seriously as men, so she dresses herself as a man and uses her naturally deeper and lower voice to seem as one. she's also very tall, which really helps on the rare occasion that she's spotted, though it's usually only her shadow that gets seen

now, christine. erica pretending to be christine's father/angel. again, she did this because its easier for her to play a role than to be herself. she knows that no one would accept her for her true self. she doesn't even really know herself, she's never had the chance to discover herself.. what she's like when she's laughing with friends, or how she acts when caring for a pet or child.. she doesn't know herself at all, all she knows is her work, her passion, her escape: music, art, acting. dreaming.

at first, erica did use christine as a way of making her dreams come to life. she can't perform herself, both because of her appearance and because her voice doesn't allow her to sing as a soprano. so she sees christine, alone and aimless, and begins refining her talent. erica never realises how intensely she feels for christine until raoul comes into play. she's possessive, not really in a romantic sense, but because christine is all she has. christine is the only person who willingly meets with her and listens to her, even though she doesn't know her true identity

seeing christine face to face and in the flesh is what really awoke feelings in erica though, and what made her want to have christine to herself, though she doesn't know how to go about it other than pretending to be something that christine can find trustworthy and desirable (again, the whole masquerading as an angel thing). but erica tries, she tries to drop the façade and be herself. she tries to ask christine to trust and accept her, but you can imagine how difficult and terrifying it must be to be that vulnerable with someone for the first time in your life.

when the unmasking happens, erica basically goes into full panic mode, and can't regain her composure. she doesn't know that christine's intention wasn't bad, but she's truly deeply traumatised and acted on instinct once again, which caused her to lash out at christine as a form of defense. she was really really scared in that moment, and once she became rational again she felt immensely guilty for lashing out at christine and for frightening her :')

she pretty much hates raoul. because he's what she can't be: a safe presence for christine, someone she can feel protected by, someone who can OFFER her a life of freedom and warmth. someone who can be seen in public with her, someone who wont ruin her reputation. erica has nothing to offer but her creations, her music, her hidden passions. she hates raoul because she can't be him. because she can't compete with him. she feels this way about most men, its just that raoul just so happens to be the man that christine is closest to

the murder of buquet. erica had always despised him, for obvious reasons. he reminded her of the men at the travelling fair, with the way he would describe her just for shock factor, and she didn't know how to process that. he was always watching the dancers too closely. his death was a perfect way of showing that she should be taken seriously and that her demands should be met. his death also meant the death of any memory of her past. also, he saw her. she couldn't let him live anyway

the masquerade! don juan triumphant was basically erica's vent art/music (she needs healthier coping mechanisms /lh). erica declaring herself christine's teacher in front of all to see...a cruel act which served to humiliate christine and force her into being associated with her. with the phantom. a complete parallel to christine and raoul's secret engagement........

erica's SINGING. it's just as unique as the rest of her, each word she sings is filled with emotion and passion and meaning. she sings low, and her voice can be soft and forcefully powerful in the same breath. she sounds unearthly, especially since she has no training herself yet she knows how to express herself through song. if only she knew how lovely she sounds,,,,,

performing the point of no return with christine on stage was the highlight of erica's life. she had abandoned all fear and showed herself in public, in front of all to see, JUST to be with christine and to show christine her heart. yes, she knocked piangi out (she didnt quite kill him, because shes Not a mindless murderer) to steal his role, and she doesn't regret it. singing with christine is erica's favourite activity and she wants the whole world to see how well they complement each other. madame giry nearly had a heart attack when she saw erica on stage

erica didn't see it as herself kidnapping christine. in her mind she Had to do this, because it was the only way to make christine understand her and force her to SEE how she feels for her..... and she never intended on killing raoul. would she take her frustrations out on him and brawl with him and choke him and whatnot? yes. would she kill him? no. she can't do that to christine. but it Did feel good to fight him. fighting for her life is all she's known after all

erica was so desperate to show christine her heart that she was willing to say and do anything, and her making christine choose between raoul and herself was her last desperate attempt. though inside she knew christine can't choose and that it isn't fair to force her to do it. when christine kissed her, and comforted her, and told her shes not alone, it was like the heaviest stone was lifted from erica's heart. she snapped out of her desperation and let christine go, because she truly wants to see her happy and safe, even if with someone else. erica had always known she doesn't stand a chance, she knew she can't win christine over, but she dreamt of it anyway. and if she spent less time trying to manipulate christine, she would've seen that christine was always willing to know her and to be with her

also, for any astrology nerds out there: i hc the phantom to be a pisces (with a scorpio moon and capricorn rising) :') basically i made her be an emotional wreck who gets Very obsessive about her passions. art flows through her

that is all :) im sane about her (not true)

[mossible]

MOSSIBLE YOUR INSANE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU ARE INSANE!!!!!!!

That. Was so far the angriest I've ever seen these old men in any of the fics I've read featuring them.

The way the entire conversation/argument with pearl and marina started extremely one sided from marinas pov, because Octavio has heard this moral dillema about the octarians' authority over their lives multiple times before, he's become bored and numb of it.

Completely unfazed. He completely believes he understands this problem the most.

But only when Craig arrives did the conversation became so much more angry and petty and relentless. Because they lived through what caused this entire argument, the great turf war.

THEIR DIALOG AND JABS AT ONE ANOTHER WERE SO PERSONAL AND REAL IT HURTS.

You describing it as "an old language the audience don't understand" Is EXACTLY what it is.

God I hate it when old people have history /j

WHY ARE THEY LIKE THAT?

Just. The way this entire conversation escalated was . Just. UGH PERFECTION I LOVE THAT ANGST.

I'm so glad that this entire chapter was conversation heavy. It was so especially well written and captivated me the entire time. I couldn't imagine how long the brainstorming sessions for this chapter were!!! You chose all the right words and the characterization for pearl, marina, callie, all of the characters, agent 8!!!!- were so, so, good.

You knocked it out of the park, man!!!!!!

Holy shit!!!!

I find it suitable that callie was the one to let Octavio out.

She is objectively the most genuinely good person in the room. She is also the only one who truly sympathizes with Octavio, without any conditions or ill intent. Being the only one who actually lived along side octarians for a while. To fight for them the most.

She's also the only one in a while to befriend Octavio. And understand him.

Which is why she without falter let him go so willingly, cause she completely trusts despite everything, he loves and prioritizes his people above all else and what the best for them.

Speaking of empathizing with Octavio, I was so happy seeing someone point out the fact that Octavio took it upon himself to take care of and keep hundreds of thousands of people alive, UNDERGROUND. FOR DECADES.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW BIG OF A RESPONSIBILITY THAT IS?

He had to clean up the mess left behind after the great turf war, and then get ready to take control of how little him and his people have.

I'm honestly surprised Octavio hasn't snapped completely under all this pressure. Hardy old man. Fighting for his life every waking hour.

People so often throw away that aspect of him! How much he cares for his people, despite how much trouble that gives him! And this chapter did a really good job at presenting that part of him in his dialog!

I might be rambling a lot, but this chapter is just- so goddamn impressive!!! Oh my god mossible!!!

Keep up the good work!!!! Me and my sister are cheering you on!!!!

P. S... Hint for next chapter? Once again any form of hint will be fine

i am well aware that i am insane dont worry <3 the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma that nobody understands (ok nobody but like my gf and my longtime besties but still. twisted freacking cycle path over here)

thank you so much for the ask again omg!! along with putting this. long ass response under a readmore, i'll also requote everything i address here bc there is a Lot. if i don't address anything, assume that me not commenting either means that you nailed it right on the head, or that i would be spoiling y'all if i did say anything ;)

…because Octavio has heard this moral dillema about the octarians' authority over their lives multiple times before, he's become bored and numb of it. [ ] Completely unfazed. He completely believes he understands this problem the most.

this certainly will neither be the first nor last time i do this, but i am always tapping the silly little tag on ao3 that says 'unreliable narrator.' esp when it comes to how octavio acts in regards to things that he may seem familiar with to the reader! this man has been alive for over 130 (slutty, slutty) years, and has governed his people for only a little less than that. things that very obviously pose problems and challenges for those under his rule may often go entirely overlooked, both from his own prideful nature, as well as simply from an unwillingness to change his formula that has already worked for a century now. after all, if these so-called 'flaws' had been in his system since the beginning, why did nothing as detrimental as the inkantation happen BEFORE now? huh? what does marina know that octavio doesn't? (a lot. she knows a lot, for the record.)

I'm so glad that this entire chapter was conversation heavy. It was so especially well written and captivated me the entire time. I couldn't imagine how long the brainstorming sessions for this chapter were!!!

again!!! tysm for your kind words omg!! i'm glad i was able to get my points across soundly and that the change in structure paid off. was very very worried about that for a while before i ended up biting the bullet and just final-checking and posting it without more agony LOL

would it surprise you if i admitted that… not very much brainstorming was needed? i mean, obviously yes i brainstormed for this chapter a ton! but, i wasn't exactly in very much need of thinking of new ideas when it came to writing everyone interacting. when stuff like that (as in dialogue and interactions and the like,) comes into play, i often find myself getting carried away with both writing it and simply stringing the cohesion of the scene along, without even really realizing it ?? tbf, i'm one of those people who thinks at like a mile a minute, so by the time my body catches up to my brain to express what thoughts i have going on, i usually miss a few crucial words or phrases in my hurry to share said thought as quickly as possible. when i write without a concrete deadline, like i am now with cracked snowglobes, i'm able to elaborate WAYYY more on my process and be much more thorough with it all. …at the cost of chapters topping 10k words on occasion. another thing i will say about the brainstorming bit, less about the process and more about my inspiration for chapter 4, is that uh. ok the origin of it is kinda funny so, dissonant melody, right? i'd assume most people reading this ask answering questions about my cuttletavio fic of all things have probably read it? (if not, go give it a read here and follow the author here!) i adore dissonant melody! it's genuinely what got me back into brainrotting over these two little old awful men and inspired me to write this fic! hell, i've even referenced some bits from it here and there in cracked snowglobes and. sort of followed a lot of what it established! but. i always felt that marina had a lot more she could have dug into when it came to her seeing octavio again. we know that she worked very closely under him while back in the domes, to the point of "earning multiple commendations," assumedly from the man himself! however, i absolutely do not blame DM's author for not digging more into their dynamic, as it was intended to be an octavio and cap'n origins comic, rather than a solely octavio-centric origins comic. that, and around 2018 when the comic was first posted online, the fandom had… a bit of an issue when it came to incorrect details about the nature of octarian society running rampant in our collective knowledge. (a whole lot of us were under the impression that all of the octarians were mind controlled, and that marina had a much less… positive, we'll say, opinion of her former ruler.) so, what better opportunity to write what i'd like to see of that reaction than in my fic? it sure helps what development octavio's gonna have to go through before some of the stuff i have planned can come to fruition, after all ;)

I find it suitable that callie was the one to let Octavio out. [ ] She is objectively the most genuinely good person in the room. She is also the only one who truly sympathizes with Octavio, without any conditions or ill intent. Being the only one who actually lived along side octarians for a while. To fight for them the most. [ ] She's also the only one in a while to befriend Octavio. And understand him. [ ] Which is why she without falter let him go so willingly, cause she completely trusts despite everything, he loves and prioritizes his people above all else and what the best for them.

i won't pick apart this bit too much, because most of it is absolutely spot on! but i will point out a couple things, just to give you some food for thought. while, yes, callie did spend a lot of time with the octarians, by no means does she have as much experience with the conditions of the domes as marina and eight, who were both born and lived most of their lives there. think back to when octavio brought up who was currently in control of the domes in his absence; the council. while callie was present long enough to empathize with the people she met while on tour, by no means could she have fully undertaken the magnitude of troubles that they faced down there, let alone understood octavio's own defiance when it came to all of marina's gripes with how he governed the place. similarly, think back to when freeing octavio even got brought up in the first place! who was the first person to openly admit that she was on the side of letting him out? who was the first one to state her hesitation? callie and octavio are friends, the latter said so himself in his internal dialogue, but they do still have some core differences that put them at odds with one another. as much as callie may trust him, she struggles to fully commit to her stance until she receives support from marie. she's on octavio's side, but only under certain conditions. at least, that's the case for now. who knows what could happen the next time they meet!

ok ive written you like 1k words alone just for these responses, so i'll end this here. but ! thank you again for the ask, and for your next chapter hint; you're going to be seeing some familiar AND new faces next chapter! which ones? i'll leave that up to your imagination :)

[clouds-rambles]

Hands

I was going to just add this to the queue but I really like this so you guys get to see it now

Man am I in love with hands omg

please reblog bc hands

Pairings; (Seperate) Eula, Albedo, Beidou, and Xiao x reader

Warning(s); A little suggestive at times, but overall sfw, HANDS <333

Summary: Hands headcaons, just hands. Pretty hands. Hands. Let me kiss their hands. Hands <3

Keep reading under the cut!

Eula

Her hands are a lot softer than you ever imagine them. Not like there’s anything wrong with that, but you always imagined her hands a lot more calloused because of the claymore she lugs around.

‘Oh I’ve been wearing gloves since I started training in swordsmanship so I’ve never had to deal with rough hands’

Her hands are on the bigger side but they’re delicate and always look smaller than they actually are. Eula will sometimes just hold your hand and you’re just like ‘wow I forgot your hands are bigger than they look’

Eula loves fingertip kisses, be it when her hand or gloved or not. She just loves the feeling of featherlight kisses on her fingertips

Her hands are a little sensitive because of how she protects them in gloves so you like to just surprise her by running your fingers over her palm to see her cheeks turn a little rosy, it’s cute.

What mesmerises you as Eula dances is the way she moves her hands when she’s dancing alone and when she’s dancing with you, you can feel her delicate touch on your back.

Eula loves holding your cheeks with her hands and caressing your cheeks with her thumbs. The way you lean into her touch always causes a blush to reach her face.

Eula’s hands are cold (the same with her overall body temperature), and she loves the way you jump just a little bit from the cold contact on different parts of your body. If she’s really lucky you’ll offer to warm them for her either between your hands or on your shoulders where you can rest your neck on them.

Eula knows you’re obsessed with her hands and often finds excuses to just touch you, be it grazing her fingers against yours or tucking a ‘stray strand’ of hair behind your ear. She’ll do the latter even if your hair isn’t prone to falling into your face.

When the two of you sit together in Angels Share you often find yourself taking her hand and fiddling with her fingers as she and Amber talk about the favonious gossip

 Albedo

Albedo is naturally enamoured with your hands, he’s obsessed by the way they feel against his own hands, and the way they feel as you touch his face. And the strange obsession you have of tracing the outline of the mark on his neck.

Though Albedo has never gotten the hint that your love his hands has much as he loves yours.

His forearms and hands are often soft and sensitive because of the constant protection they have thanks to his gloves, there’s an odd scar or two on his hands, but nothing to disrupt the overall softness of his hands.

You love to just slowly pull off his gloves just to kiss the soft skin of his forearm and nuzzle your nose into his palms. The blush Albedo has whenever you do this is always more than adorable.

Albedo also finds himself doing similar things, he loves the feeling of your hands against his lips. He loves just covering your hand in kisses before he kisses your lips.

Seeing someone obsessed with your hands is so crazy to you, it never fails to make you blush like crazy, even at the simple movement of taking your gloves off.

The tips of Albedo’s fingers always feel perpetually cold even when his palms are warm. He enjoys watching the way your goosebumps react to the soft, cold touches of his fingertips.

Albedo’s favourite time to hold your hands are after long experiments, especially when he feels the cramp in his hands act up a little bit

Albedo is also obsessed with the way you massage knots out his back, there hasn’t ever been a time he’s come from a back massage feeling unsatisfied

Albedo often greets you with a soft kiss on the back of your hand, even if your hands are covered by a layer or two of fabric. He’s just obsessed with the way your hands look and feel

 Beidou

Beidou’s hands are calloused from years at sea, it’s only been in recent years that she has started wearing gloves. So many scars from various battles as well as general rope burns adorn her skin.

The texture of her hands against your cheek is always something to swoon into, especially after not seeing her for a long while, the way her rough thumb rubs against your cheek makes you want to kiss her until you can’t breath

Beidou doesn’t quite get your obsession with hands, but she’s always more than happy to entertain you with the grin she holds close.

The feeling of her ungloved hands against your bare back, or even your shoulders is enough to make anyone swoon for her

Considering the fact her gloves are fingerless Beidou loves to tease you with lingering touches of her hands as she goes about her business.

When Beidou holds your hand and rubs her thumb against your hand? Just say you’re in love already, you don’t even care if she teases you because damn he hands are just great

Nights that the two of you are drinking Beidou loves to just have some kind of connection to you, ranging anywhere from holding hands, to a supple grip on your thigh.

You enjoy kissing Beidou’s palms and leaving soft chaste kisses on them. Maybe Beidou doesn’t understand the hand thing, but she does understand raw affection when she sees it. So yes, Beidou no doubt about it always has a light blush on her cheeks after you kiss her palm, a darker blush if you tell her how much you love her as you do it

Beidou’s hands always seem to have a static current to them, her light touches through the day always feel electrifying, and not in the cheesy sense. You honestly believe that she uses her vision just to give you small shocks through the day. Not like you’re complaining though

 Xiao

Xiao is helplessly in love with hands, no matter how much he refuses to admit it.

It’s common knowledge that the adeptus is touch starved with all caps, and will often happily melt into a hug. But your hands on his skin always feels, different, they always feel more despite less of your body touching him.

He especially loves it when you fiddle with his own fingers, even more so when they’re ungloved.

Xiao’s hands are rough, not many new scars are apparent because he’s been wearing his gloves for some time, but they are there. Xiao enjoys the feeling of your fingers, and hands in general, gently grazing over the bumps of old scars.

More than once your hands just touching his own has made him more than content, if you whisper things to him his cheeks will flush a dark red

Xiao is a man that’s adept in the art of fighting and finds himself naturally excelling in the art of his job. He’s used to being strong, being alone, being the only fighter. So why does he feel the opposite when your hands are on him? Why does he feel overwhelmed with love?

Xiao isn’t so great at expressing his emotions, especially verbally. And even when it comes to gifts Xiao finds himself thinking too hard about something you’ll love anyways. So? The two of you found a way for Xiao to happily express his love to you without forcing him to say the words aloud.

Three simple taps ‘tap tap tap’ that’s all you need to do to say I love you.

You find him doing it everywhere, especially when your focus is either on his hands, or your hands are on him. ‘tap tap tap’ on your thigh as you hold his cheeks, ‘tap tap tap’ on your head as you delicately kiss his palms

That’s where you worked out his like of hands, he always seems to tap you more whenever your hands are involved. It makes you smile and makes you want to scream to the entirety of Liyue that your adeptus boyfriend is the most adorable, loving man you’ve ever met

[flamingo-writes]

It's Better When The Sun Goes Down — Nanami x Reader

This is a piece for the Anilysium Server NSFW Collab! Make sure to check the masterlist to see other writer's works! This month's prompt was: "I can't hold back anymore"

I'd like to dedicate this fanfic to one of my dearest and closest friends. I'm not a Nanami simp myself, but they are. And I have fun writing for Nanami, and also I love writing angsty things and flawed characters. Reg, I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoy my more casual writing.

(it's pink bcs youre Chancho)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: Mentions of breakup and heartbreak, alcohol and drug consuption, public sex, ghosting, lots and lots of angst. This does not have a happy ending. This is also non proof read bcs I kinda left it to the last minute I'm sorry, I'll go back and edit it when I am not in a rush dcj nd

Summary: Nanami’s return to the Sorcerer life wasn’t so bad. It could be better if Gojo wasn’t determined to get him back with his ex. As Nanami tries to get on good terms with them, things get out of control, only to end up where it all began.

I made this playlist while writing, in case you wanna listen to it while reading. Preferably listen to it without the shuffle, but you can hear it on shuffle, no biggie.

Nanami had forgotten how painfully unbearable Gojo could be. His return as a Sorcerer had been nothing out of the ordinary for a Sorcerer's standards. Missions here and there, or watching over some of Gojo's students. But God, he had surely stepped out of the line this time.

He couldn't even begin to explain how much he hated his current situation. Fighting by your side for the first time in years felt like rubbing hot oil on an open wound. The uncomfortable ignoring the elephant in the room between you two, as you two tracked and fought what felt like a million Curses.

When the adrenaline was at its peak, it felt almost nostalgic; though he'd then remembered everything else and immediately made his own reality bitter and awkward. Overshadowed by the advantage of years of experience ahead of him made him resent you even more. He knew it was childish and pointless to keep remembering everything that happened between you two, but that bittersweet memory would most likely keep him at bay.

You were still strong, witty, fearless, reckless and quick to act and defend yourself. The way you moved looked more swiftly and coordinated than you did back in your student days. Almost as if you were a professional dancer. He hated every bit of it. He couldn’t stop looking at you, thinking about you, and the possibilities of what you two would have become.

After the mission was over, no words were exchanged between you two. Aside from the: "Are you alright?" He told you as you simply gave him a thumbs up as you caught your breath drenched in sweat. An entire ride in an uncomfortable silence, until he reached the school and you got out of the car.

"Thanks. You did a great job. Keep it up" You said. Cold, and straight to the point. Closing his car door before he could reply. And soon, you were gone.

As Nanami tried to get his mind off the mission, Gojo made it difficult. He called him to ask for the details of the mission. He seemed amused and intrigued, as clearly you hadn't told him shit. And honestly, he could understand why. Gojo was meddling on things that weren’t his business, and things that had died a long time ago.

"Why are you interrogating me, Gojo?" He asked as he pressed hisnfingers on the bridge of his nose. "Ask your underling…"

"Because that jerk left for the bar as soon as they arrived" He explained. "And I know better than to annoy a drunk [Name], It took me a while but...I finally learned my lesson" He chuckled. “I knew they could hit hard, but damn, I had a big ass bruise…” Nanami could almost hear his stupid grin.

"You make it sound like it's a recurrent event" Nanami pointed out, slightly surprised as he didn't know you were a drinker.

"Oh, Nanami-kun, you really know nothing huh?" Gojo said, smiling widely as he had managed to manipulate Nanami into asking.

"Know what?" Nanami hissed as he now swore he could hear Nanami creepily grinning at his phone.

"No, nothing!” Gojo said as if it were nothing; trying and succeeding at peeking at Nanami’s curiosity “I'm not gonna talk over depressing things on the phone. Gotta go, bye! Kith kith, Kento-kun" Gojo sang and hung up, as he smirked, proud of his little mischief. He sighed deeply as he stretched in his bed. "Soon, those two will be back together" he smirked to himself.

Nanami hissed a curse under his breath as he locked his phone and threw it on his bed and went to the kitchen. If he had understood well, Gojo had just hinted at a possible drinking problem. He tried shaking his mind off of it. You couldn't, could you? You weren’t a drinker...You weren’t the last time he saw you. You were able to party and have fun without having to intoxicate yourself.

You were wild, cheerful, unpredictable. Everything he was not. And that’s what had made him fall in love with you back in your school days. You were so laid back, he could feel it permeating into him when you two hung out. The few times he’d broken rules was because you’d been the bad influence, however, you somehow managed to get away with it, and leave him with some distant memory in which he felt actually glad to be alive. He usually felt like he was walking on a cloud stuck in time, being present and enjoying the little things that made his everyday memories.

He’d really screwed up after breaking up with you...if he could call that a breakup... His life took a dramatic turn. And then, he turned his back to this world, and got immersed in the gray life the average man in Japan had. Away from what he's familiar with, away from his friends, away from you.

And now, apparently, you had a drinking habit. He wondered if he had caused it, or if he was one of the reasons behind it. The guilt started creeping in. The same guilt and regret he felt after ghosting on you. Not being able to bring himself to properly end things with you.

The guilt he’d managed to swipe under the rug for so many years creeped back out, and followed him around as the afternoon went by. After having a shower, changing into more comfortable clothes and in a lame attempt to cook dinner, he decided to test his luck. He put on a dark button down shirt and decided to go to the bar closest to the School. He felt the naive hope to find you there. However, if you had an actual problem, then his chances to see you there were higher.

Such was his surprise to find you there, trying to get rid of some insistent guy who kept talking to you despite your very obvious lack of interest. Before you could spot him, he watched you aggressively turn to the guy and talk to him in a rather rude tone. Sounding almost like a moody sailor as the guy’s face soon was washed with horror and disgust and walked away. As you turned your face back to your drink, your eyes scanned the bar, finally spotting him.

“Oh god” You whined as you pulled the glass to your lips. “It’s too early to be this drunk…” You hissed.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked, pointing at the chair in front of you.

“Tell Gojo to go fuck himself…” You snapped at him as you stood up and stumbled your way to the bar asking for a refill. Nanami looked at you, feeling slightly sorry for your tipsy state, as he’d never seen you like that. And he knew being mad and drunk was never a good combination. As you turned around with your glass and made your way back to your table, you gave him a slightly repulsed smile. “You’re still here…”

“Gojo didn’t send me here, if that’s what you’re thinking” He replied.

“He might as well have manipulated you into doing so, has that crossed your mind?” You said with a sassy tone as you sat back down. “Why are you still standin’?”

Nanami took that as an invitation as he ignored your last comment, trying to refuse the idea that Gojo had manipulated him.

“Rough day, huh?” He said as you nodded and stared at your drink.

“Look, Kento. I’m glad that you’re back. I really am. You’re strong, and you’re smart…” You began. “But I’m gonna cut the chase, I’m kinda annoyed too. Ever since you got back, Gojo has been sticking his snobby nose into my business” You explained. “Many of the missions he sends you in, I’m supposed to be there as well, but manage to get busy by then and not go”

“So you’re actively avoiding me?”

“Yes” You replied bluntly. “Mostly because Gojo is trying very hard to bring us back together. But no, I learned my lesson the first time” You said taking a sip to your scotch, feeling it smoothly sliding down your throat, no longer feeling the burn from the alcohol.

“I haven’t apologized for that…” Nanami began.

“Don’t” You interrupted him. “It’s better this way”

“Are you sure? Because you still seem to have an issue with it…” Nanami said, managing to read you like an open book like he always did. He still had that ability.

You glared at him, angrily as you opened your mouth to snap back at him, but your mind was foggy and a big portion of your brain was focused on the little details surrounding him. His black shirt, the first buttons undone. His thick wrists, one of them hiding underneath a fancy looking watch, his blond hair pushed back, his sharp features...And god, his smell. The smell of his cologne luring you in like a fly to honey. Since any words made it to your mouth, your next step was to take another sip.

“You’re drinking too fast” He pointed out.

“None of your business” You said standing up and taking your wallet out and leaving a few bills on the tale. “I’m out” You said coldly and walked out of the bar.

Nanami sighed, frustrated that he hadn’t managed to get anything out of interaction. Aside from the pretty clear fact that you disliked him. However, he didn’t think of the possibility of you resenting him so much because you still had feelings for him.

As you walked out of the bar, the chilly wind hit the back of your neck, making you shiver. You cursed, knowing it was going to make you feel drunker faster. You made your way to the school with long steps, trying to make it to your dorm before your last drink made it to your head. Despite the cold wind, the hot tears in your eyes in a way kept your face warm. As you tried to keep yourself from crying, you heard steps behind you.

“Wait” You heard Nanami’s voice calling behind you as you stopped on command, against your own will. You swallowed the lump on your throat and managed to keep the tears still in your eyes, as you refused to look at

him. “At least let me walk you home. You can’t walk on your own like this…”

“Oh, so now you care?” You said turning around and looking at him, giving him a smug smile. “You’ve changed” You scoffed bitterly.

“Please” He said, knowing better than trying to argue with you.

Your stare on him softened, as something within you urged you to say yes. To have more time with Nanami and maybe cling to the bittersweet memories you were constantly reliving since his return.

“Fine” You said, very much to his surprise. He smiled and walked closer to you with the gentle smile that had been haunting your dreams as of lately.

“C’mon. My car is not far from here…”

You stopped coldly as he mentioned a car. Taking a second look at him, you wondered how much he’d changed. He’d become an adult through and through, hadn’t he? While you were still a mess...Or so you thought. To Nanami’s eyes, you were a far better sorcerer and warrior than him. And he envied you for it.

“Are you actually going to take me to the school?” You asked, suddenly growing suspicious of him, as you’d had plenty of experiences with strangers on the street and knew better than going into someone’s car in a drunken state.

Not that you didn’t trust Nanami. You didn’t trust yourself drunk.

“I was actually thinking of taking you somewhere for dinner and then to the school” He said.

“Not hungry”

“No, but you’re drunk. It’ll sober you up, and tomorrow morning you’ll thank me when you wake up without a hangover” He said as he walked towards his car.

“I don’t have any more money on me” You lied, looking for an excuse to avoid spending any more than necessary with him.

“I didn’t ask you if you have money” He said boldly as he managed to make you smirk for the first time since his return.

“Smooth, Nanami. You’ve grown” You said as you followed him.

The walk to his car felt like your chest burnt far more than the alcohol ever did. It felt bitter, it hurt and was nauseating. Was it really it, or was it the alcohol finally catching up with you? Like flashes of instant memories being erased from your memory, the drive to a restaurant felt like a poorly edited foreign film. The car felt like some intense themed park ride as you felt dizzy with the alcohol whispering everything you missed about him. It was gross and it was sickening.

The Ramen sign on the outside on itself managed to sober you up a little by taking your mind off Nanami. As you followed him, clumsily standing on your feet, you sat on one of the tables and tried to make sense of the dancing letters in the menu. More flashes of memories were taken off your head, as you wondered what was happening and how drunk were you for you to start blacking out.

“Not good…” you muttered under your breath.

“Did you say something?” Nanami asked.

“No. Nothing”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m not”

“You’ll feel better in a bit. Don’t worry…” He said softly as he sipped from a soda you didn’t know he had. When had he ordered it? You looked in front of you to the nice surprise that you had one too despite not knowing how or when. “I ordered some ramen for you. Something spicy...It’ll sober you up faster”

You chuckled as you looked at him.

“And how do you know that?” You asked with a cheeky tone as he smiled softly.

“Went drinking a lot with friends from work” He said. “I learned a few things here and there”

More brief black outs kept lazily painting a rather miserable painting in your memory. As you ate your ramen, you found yourself relaxing more and more. Was it the hot spicy broth? In the beginning, the balck outs weren’t getting any less frequent, however, as the night went by, you found yourself sobering up like he said. Soon, the black outs were gone, however you were still somehow locked in a haze. Although it made sense. The amount of booze as well as the short time, it was going to take a lot more than just one hot bowl of spicy ramen to get you back to a sober state.

The conversation kept flowing comfortably as both of you ate. It was reminiscent of the old days, nostalgic and somehow morbid. As the both of you tried to grasp at the old days when your worries were limited to school work. Catching up like old friends who hadn't seen each other, as if you didn’t have hard feelings for each other.

After having finished your food, Nanami paid for both of your meals and went back out into the cold night. The sky black, stars hidden by the streetlights as you made it to his car and finally noticed the silver color in it.

As he drove back to the school, you noticed he took a small detour, instantly setting alarms in your head.

“Where are we going?” You asked, your voice considerably serious as he noticed the change in tone from the pleasant talk they were having in the restaurant.

“There’s somewhere I’d like to go…” He said as he briefly looked at you and gave you a tender smile.

That smile made your heart uncomfortably skip a beat as you hated the effect he still had on you. You didn’t dare to ask any further as you slowly recognized the route he was taking. As he slowly took one of the roads towards the edge of the city close to the coast line. He stopped in a rather deserted place, as he got off the road and stopped the car.

Despite the lack of light, aside from the few streetlights, you knew exactly where you were. A whole in your chest opened dramatically as you felt your eyes tear up and happy memories attached to the location flooded your mind.

“Kento…” You said chuckling bitterly.

“When I said I wanted to apologize, I meant it…” He said as you clenched your jaw and looked out your window, avoiding his stare.

“And I told you I didn’t want to talk about it…”

“You’re still upset about it, I get it. And I don’t blame you” He began as he felt his heart beating hard in his chest. “Look at me, please”

You wanted to say something to him. But you knew you would break down crying as soon as you opened your mouth. You took a deep breath and without saying anything you looked at him. His dark brown eyes gazing into yours, as he was looking at you with a rather pained stare.

“You remember this place, don’t you?” He asked.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clicked your seatbelt, getting it off.

“I’m done” You said dryly as you opened the door and got out of the car.

“No, [Name]. Please, wait” He said as he mirrored your movements and excited the car walking around it.

“Of fuckign course I know where I am, Kento” You barked as you walked away approaching the door. “I know where I lost my fucking virginity, okay?” You barked as you stopped coldly and looked at him, tears finally streaming off your face. “Look, I’ll make us a favour and summarize this conversation. Yes, you’re a fucking asshole for just taking off one day and completely disappearing. Yes, I’m still mad about it. No, I won’t take your apology. No, I don’t care about whatever shitty excuse you have for me to listen to you. You bringing me here out of all places isn’t going to change shit…” You spat all in one breath as you stopped and took a deep breath.

“I loved you, Kento. I really did. And it hurt to have you just dissipate like you were a hallucination or something...You were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything! And one day I lost all of that. You ruined sex for me!” You yelled angrily. “I could never hold, kiss or sleep with anyone, because at some point I’d see your stupid face, and then be incredibly underwhelmed because I would not enjoy sex. I can’t feel anything anymore, Kento...The only way I can actually enjoy those things is by getting drunk or high” You admitted. “I can’t walk into bookstores, nor eat sandwiches or diet coke, nor drink tea because all those things remind me of you. And yes, it’s lame that all these years later I still care about those things. And this is why I can’t forgive you” You cried, as your voice shook.

Nanami’s heart broke little by little at each one of your words. He knew he’d screwed up and had hurt you deeply. But he wasn’t aware of the actual impact. He clenched his jaw as he felt his chest tight and a lump on his throat. Now the drinking problem made sense. Gojo had painted it like you were an alcoholic, but it wasn’t exactly the case. So you’d gone to the bar to get it off with some stranger, probably pretending it was him.

The dizzying pain and weight of his mistakes blinded him for a second as he walked towards you as you kept bitterly complaining. As you tried to walk away, you made a very poor effort as he caught up with you and cupped your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him and shutting you up by pressing his lips against you.

The sudden surprise made your heart stop. Your mind turning numb and blank at once as you struggled to bring yourself to push him away. However, truth be told, you didn't want to push him away. The poor attempt to push him away was more than obvious. The strong fighter you were, barely making any physical effort. Nanami's hands wrapped around your back and pulled you close, squeezing you against him as he sighed into the kiss.

Finally kissing him back, you locked your lips against his desperately, eager to taste the lips you've been dreading in your dreams. Clinging to him like he was going to disappear again, a soft whimper escaped your mouth. Your chest pressing against him as he felt his own world getting blurry.

He broke the kiss pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how much I missed you” He whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I…” You stuttered, the words tasting bitter before they even made it to your mouth. “Fuck, I want you, Kento” You growled as he pulled you in, kissing you hungrily again.

His hands posessively clinging to you as he slowly guided you back to the car. One step at the time as you both melted in a hungry sour kiss. As you ran out of breath, you pulled away, gasping for air as you gripped his collar in your hands.

“I can’t hold back anymore” You said as you pulled away and grabbed his hand, walking back to his car.

Your words unleashed a shiver down his spine as his heart skipped a beat and raced like crazy, as his pants started feeling tighter on his crotch. He chuckled softly as he realized his own judgement seemed to have disappeared with that first kiss. And before you could even make it to his car, he gripped your hips and spun you around as he bumped his forehead against yours.

“I can’t either” He admitted as he guided you to the car’s hood and pulled you over it. Ass you sat on the warm hood, he got between your legs and you wasted no time wrapping them around his waist. He grunted softly feeling your crotch against his as you pulled him closer to seal your lips together.

As you soon were absorbed by the dizziness of your rising heat, his hand went to your bare thighs as he slowly caressed your skin, going up and lifting your skirt up in the process. A soft moan slid into his mouth as he gripped your ass softly and squeezed it. The way your skin got covered in goosebumps and how you jerked your hips made him moan in response.

It felt good, and intoxicating. The driving desire burning his insides. The feeling of desiring to taste you all over and have you shaking underneath him. God, he’d missed that particular rush of adrenaline. His body reacting to the deeply buried memories now loose. He felt like he was in the best high he’d experienced. Lightheadedness and presence in the moment, he hadn’t felt this alive in so long.

Your hands were slowly undoing his buttoned shirt and were quick to explore his warm skin. He pulled away from the kiss, gasping as he looked at you. Your devilish smile matching your hungry stare. You leaned forward kissing his neck, nibbling on his skin every now and then. His hand gripped your hair tightly, pulling it lightly, making you look up at him as he stared at you.

He leaned forward, kissing you once more, this time a lot more slow and a lot more tender. It was sweet and it was slow and it took you by surprise. You felt his sweet kiss begging you, still holding on to the feelings you both decided to drown unsuccessfully. It almost hurt. It was the kind of kiss that told you how much you missed and needed each other. How much you regretted the mistakes you’ve done.

As you melted against his lips, his hands slowly slid your panties off. You helped him lifting your hips a little but as you giggled against his lips.

“Eager?” You said with a playful smirk.

“You have no idea” He replied as he took off your panties and shoved them in his back pocket.

His hand made it back to your thigh, slowly going up until he palmed your hot sex. Stealing a gasp out of your mouth, he teasingly ran one of his fingers through your dripping slit, making him smile satisfied.

“I’m not the only one, huh?” He said as you looked at him with lustful eyes.

You took his glasses off and set them aside. You were about to go back to kissing his neck when he slid one finger inside of you effortlessly. A rather loud moan escaped your lips as you shut your eyes closed feeling your entire body tingle in a way you hadn’t felt in years. You smiled satisfied as you continued kissing his neck. Slowly, he got another finger inside. The delicious stretch of his second finger prompting you to bite his neck softly making him growl your name softly. His fingers explored the whole he knew so well, as he found your sweet spot almost by muscle memory. More moans came out of your throat sounding like music to his ears.

“Fuck, Kento” You hissed as you took off your top, not caring that you were outdoors and by the road. Up to this point, you were so pent up, you simply craved him like you’d never craved anything before.

Nanami wasted no time and kissed your neck, going down to your neck, gently biting your skin every now and then. Sucking delicately on your skin, leaving marks that wouldn’t last long. He pulle dhis fingers out of you, clinging to your body desperately. As you laid on the car’s hood, you devoured him with your lustful eyes, begging him to get on top of you. Wearing just your skirt by this point, Nanami groaned at the plain sight of you.

He undid his belt and his pants. Your hands playfully teasing your own body in an attempt to drive him crazier and crazier. He cursed under his breath as he couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled his painfully hard erection out of his pants. You watched hi, intrigued, stretching your hands towards him, gently gripping his dick. His breath hitched and you smiled proudly.

Nanami leaned over the car hood, slowly getting on top of you, his shaft resting on your belly as he looked at how much deep could he go inside of you. His tip almost reaching you belly button, as the idea alone made a shiver run down his spine.

"Please, Kento" you gasped, need dripping from your voice as you caressed his dick

He growled softly as he pulled away softly, aligning against your entrance and slowly going in. You gasped, pushing your head back and pressing your hips against his making him go deeper.

Hissing your name, he jerked his hips, his tip.kissing your cervix as sudden rush of pain jolted through your body, followed by pleasure. You dug your nails in his shoulders as he thrusted back and forth, hitting all the right spots. The sound of his gasps and grunts hypnotizing as you got wetter by the second. His length coated in your juices, echoing in lewd wet noises.

He was rough. He usually was. Back in student days, he was particularly rough. As quiet and collected as he seemed, he sure got his stress out if his body through wild sex.

Relentlessly pushing against you, stretching you in such a delicious way only he knew how. Strong and aggressive movements as your walls swallowed him whole every time, breathless moans escaping your lips with every push. The cool wind kissing your skin, only enhancing his warmth.

As you felt your orgasm progressively approaching, the realization of how addicted you were to him hit you. He was everything you desired. And it was wrong. Before the feeling of uneasiness started to sink in, a sudden electric rush ran through your body. Painfully and soothing, as you tightly clenched around himbsoon numbed your mind.

As you came around him, your walls sucked him in tightly, as he was right over the brink, your velvet flesh pushed him off the edge. He didn't have time to pull out. And honestly, he didn't want to pull out. The way your walls milked him felt delicious. As he rode you through your orgasm, filling you up as his head felt dizzy and the world was spinning faster than usual. His hot seed coating your insides, as you shut your eyes closed, feeling the very last of your orgasm fading away.

He pressed his forehead against yours. Loud pants echoing.

However, the world didn't quite return to its regular focus.

The rest of the night went by in a fuzzy hot mess of events. You returned to his apartment and kept feasting on each other, making up for the lost time. Both of you incredibly starved and needy, you desperately went at it over and over again. It was a rather long night. As you feared, no one made you feel as he did. All of him was addicting. His smell, his voice, his warmth, his skin...It didn’t matter how many strangers you fucked, or how drunk or high you were, he felt just right. He made you cum so easily, it seemed ridiculous everyone else couldn’t.

But you knew it was far more than that.

You were still deeply in love with him. No wonder why he had that effect on you. Just hearing his breathlessly gasp was enough to have you soaking wet and under his mercy. Between sweet kisses, fake promises and sweaty sex, he quite literally fucked you to oblivion. Until either of you could take it any longer and you two fell asleep in each other’s arms. It had been a long tiring night, as you knew many of your muscles were gonna be sore the next day. Your chest painted in red and blue bruises.

It was possibly one of the best night sleeps he’d had. In such a long time. The uncomfortable hole in his chest didn’t feel so wide now. Just like you, he didn’t know how much he actually needed you until now. His regrets, his guilt, the thoughts haunting him on how much of a jerk he’d been when he simply took off...All those feelings went away for a night. As he tasted the wonders of the universe under your skin. Feeling ecstatic and euphoric for the first time in years. However, nothing could’ve prepared Nanami for what he was about to experience when he woke up.

~

“What the hell is this?” Gojo asked as he waved around the folder you’d left a few hours earlier in the Headmaster’s office.

“Why the fuck do you care?” You said as you grabbed it, ripping it off his hands.

“You’re seriously leaving for Kyoto?” He whined.

“So my transfer was accepted? Great!” You said sarcastically as you opened the folder and saw the Headmaster’s seal at the bottom.

“What about Nanami-kun?” Gojo replied as the very last string of your patience snapped.

“Oh, fuck you, Gojo! You tried to force us back together, but it’s not going to happen” You snapped. “I’m done. I’m done with him, and I’m done with you sticking your nose in my business”

“Do you really think that running away will solve anything? You’ll still be depressed as hell”

“The less I know about him, the better” You said as you turned around, hot tears blurring your sight as you headed with long steps towards your room. “I don’t trust myself around him…” You whispered. “He’s my weakness Gojo, I can’t let that happen…” You said coldly.

You’d left that morning very early, before Nanami woke up. And you left leaving no trace of you ever being there. Unintentionally doing the same he did. It was unintentional because you hadn’t done it out of spite. Your thought process had been simply. You preferred to not have that conversation and simply leave without him noticing. You had had the exact same thought process Nanami had had all those years ago.

You didn’t waste time and soon started packing your things to leave for Kyoto right away.

[n0bamak1s]

drive you crazy - mai zenin x reader

request: “could you do mai’s reaction to silent treatment? can the read be gender neutral also?” - @hitchsimp

summary: after having to carry mai to the infirmary following the goodwill exchange event, reader finds themself in an argument over mais carelessness. this leads to mai wondering just why she’s so upset over being ignored like this. (genre: enemies to lovers, angst-ish to fluff, oblivious pining)

warnings: mentions of violence, some angst, swearing

word count: 2.2k

a/n: sorry i’ve been kind of slow with writing lately everyone! exams have me pretty busy atm but hopefully i’ll be in less of a slump after i’m done with that. i hope you guys enjoy this in the mean time! also criticism is greatly appreciated bc i’m still kind of a beginner on writing arguments and stuff like that ^_^

mai decided that she hated being ignored.

not that you two were anywhere near best friends or anything, in fact most of the time you guys were at each others throats over something trivial. at least when you guys argued, though, you still acknowledged her presence. she knew you couldn’t stay silent towards her forever, you guys would have to work together eventually, you were teammates of sorts after all.

you had started giving her the cold shoulder not long after the goodwill event. utahime had called you to inform you mai was out of the game, and you had to go retrieve her. you groaned at the idea of having to be her knight in shining armor, but reluctantly began to make your way to the forest that the group had split up in.

by the time you found her lying on the grass, unconscious, you were already irritated as you cursed whoever made these uniforms so stiff to run in. you crouched down to get closer to her level, lightly shaking her shoulder in hopes you would stir her awake. when that didn’t work, you rolled your eyes and picked her up, one hand supporting her upper back and the other tucked under her knees.

at first glance to anyone else who may have seen how you carried her, it would almost seem romantic. thought, their opinions would probably change pretty quickly if they saw how you lectured her when she woke up.

she stirred awake and blinked a couple times to adjust to her surroundings before turning to see your very tired and very annoyed face.

“you could’ve just stuck to the plan, you know.” despite the anger clear in your face as you stated at your lap, your voice had a quality of softness to it mai had never heard. before she could get any words out, you interrupted her train of thought and continued talking. “we made that plan for a reason. you knew you weren’t ready to take on maki, so why would you put yourself in danger like that?” you looked up to make eye contact with her, and she noted the subtle hint of gentleness in your eyes, but not before she jumped to defensiveness.

“what the hell makes you think you know why i wanted to fight maki?” she resented your concern in favor of starting an argument with you.

“have you ever considered that maybe you need to think about how your little revenge fantasy ruins our chances of winning this thing.” the warmth in your voice was now gone, replaced with a tone far from sympathetic. “we’ve all worked hard to get a chance to make it somewhere as jujutsu sorcerer, so it would be nice if you at least tried to care.”

for a moment, mai found it hard to come up with some kind of response. of course she knew how hard you worked to get here, not that she’d admit it. so why did she suddenly feel a twang of sympathy at how betrayed your words sounded?

before she could even think of how to counter what you said, you got up from the seat you had been in and strolled out, not even giving her the satisfaction of some kind of goodbye.

you guys weren’t even friends. she thought you were too irritable and you thought she was too full of herself. she shouldn’t care this much about whether or not she had hurt you. this feeling would probably wash over by morning, and you guys would go back to your usual bickering.

it only took one glance at you the next morning to see that, no, the feeling had not washed over.

for one thing, you had completely ignored her when utahime announced you would choose partners for sparring. normally, you would nod to mai wordlessly and stalk off in her direction so you two would spar together. it was the one thing you guys were good at doing together, maybe just because it was a way for you to get your anger out on each other from all the snide comments and annoyed glares you guys exchanges on the daily.

today, however, you turned to noritoshi and asked him if he would be your partner. when mai glanced in your direction, she couldn’t help but notice the soft smile that graced your face when you asked him, nothing like the stoic one you usually had when you guys partnered up.

why should she care about that? you and noritoshi were a couple of hard asses anyway, so why did it bother her so much if you chose to spar him instead?

she was currently paired with miwa, who seemed to quickly catch on to the quick looks she sent in your direction in between the punches thrown.

“did you get in a fight with them or something?” mai didn’t need to hear your name to know who miwa was asking about.

“something like that.” she caught her breath after dodging a kick at her legs. “apparently i’m too ‘careless’” miwa noted how her punches came with more force when talking about it.

“they probably just want you to stop putting yourself in danger, you know?” as much as miwa loved you guys, it was kind of ridiculous how much obvious stuff she had to say just to egg you guys on to make you realize how in denial you were about your care for each other.

“then they could just tell me that. maybe they should follow their own advice about caring.” she huffed annoyedly, eyes wandering back over to you sparring with noritoshi, seeing how you smiled so kindly at him as you helped him up. her eyes lingered on you for just a moment too long, studying the way all the tension in your face seemed to release, with your eyes growing shinier and the corners of your mouth quirking up without a care in the world.

why didn’t you ever smile at her like that?

your ignoring of her continued for the next few days. mai felt herself grow annoyed, because she had no idea how to get under your skin. she didn’t want to admit that she was bored without the pointless arguments, or baseless insults that you guys shared. now, when she joined you with the rest of your classmates for lunch, it was like she was invisible. instead of criticizing her aim during target practice, you would turn to momo and ask her about the new show she was watching, and it was like mai didn’t even cross your mind.

you couldn’t keep this up forever, surely. even when you weren’t trading insults with each other, it was obvious to anyone else how you would bite back calling out her name in concern when she took a particularly hard hit in training. regardless, you were still far too stubborn to admit how you missed talking to her, even if it was just to lecture her about paying more attention to her surroundings while she rolled her eyes about how you had stopped by the infirmary so late just to say that.

why were you so insistent on preaching to her whenever she went and got herself hurt?

it became rather monotonous for your classmates, watching the both of you glance at the other one with soft eyes when you thought no one else was looking. it was exhausting seeing how you guys grew tense at the mention of the other’s name, trying to pass off your embarrassment for anger.

it had been a few days more of dealing with your stubbornness before you finally managed a break from one another with mai and todo going out for a mission together. you knew them to be somewhat of a chaotic duo together, so you hoped this would work to your advantage in giving you a day of rest from all this pointless drama. you knew it was childish, sulking over problems you had caused entirely on your own, but with the time apart, you couldn’t help but become just a little bit self pitying. it was only natural when you had messed up your chances with the girl you liked because you were too scared to admit your feelings to yourself.

wait, what?

you probably would have sat and soaked up your startling revelation (well, startling to you at least) before you were abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door of your dorm room, followed immediately by a call of your name by miwa. she said something about needing help patching up mai, and you hated yourself for how quickly you sprung up from the spot you had been lounging on your bed. ignoring the strangely knowing look miwa gave you, you picked up your pace to the infirmary, feeling much more limber in your lounge clothes. it was hard not to notice the contrast between the last time you spoke in the infirmary when you swung open the door without even a knock, your eyes flooded with concern.

before mai even had a chance to process your disheveled state from running all the way to the infirmary, you spoke to her for the first time in a week.

“i’m sorry.” your voice was breathless as you leaned against the doorframe.

instead of pointing out the obvious fact that you had suddenly decided to speak to her again, she just adjusted herself so she sat up in the stiff infirmary bed, choosing to point out another obvious fact. “you know it wasn’t your fault i got hurt.” her words made you feel like a dunce, but her tone was earnest, genuine.

“but maybe if i hadn’t been ignoring you i could’ve been there to help you out.” made your way towards her so you sat at the edge of the bed, grabbing a small roll of bandages and leaning down slightly to observe where any injuries remained. “i should’ve been there to help you out.”

she raised an eyebrow. “i don’t need you to protect me.”

“i know that,” until then, you had your eyes trained on the papery sheets adorning the bed, but when you met her eyes, she could see the heartfelt look in your eyes “, but i want you to be able to rely on me.”

you broke eye contact momentarily, reaching for her slightly bloodied hand to wrap, resting it loosely in yours. your fingers settled around her palm so gently as you wrapped the bandages, she noted. it became difficult for you to stay focused with how her eyes watched you so intently.

was she smiling?

“quit beating yourself up over stuff like that.” her voice was hardly above a whisper as she leaned forward, using her good hand to brush away some stray hairs that had fallen in your face. “whenever you’re not there to protect me, you’re always the first one to ask what happened, the first one to come running with bandages, the first one to tell me to take care of myself.”

then she gave you that knowing look. the same one miwa had given you when you rushed to the infirmary, the one noritoshi had given you when you glanced her way during sparring, hell now that you thought of it, the same one todo had given you when he and mai had been paired up for a mission. the once small and nearly undetectable smile gracing her features grew into what was the closest thing you had ever seen to a grin from her. had her face been this close to yours the whole time?

“because i just drive you crazy, don’t i?” her eyes were half lidded as they stared deeply into yours. you couldn’t even be brought to deny her teasing, just nodding meekly at her announcement.

she leaned in close to you, if she just tilted her head, you guys could’ve been kissing.

“that’s good you know.” her voice was so quiet that you were sure had you been any further away, you’d never have heard it. “since i’d be lying if i said i didn’t miss you and that stick up your ass when you were avoiding me.”

you chuckled quietly, tilting your head down so it rested on her shoulder as you did, causing her to let out a soft laugh herself.

“you kind of scare the shit out of me sometimes mai.” you lift your head back up to look her straight in the eye. “but i think i’d lose it if i spent any longer pretending to hate you.”

it’s just for a split second, but in that split second you felt as if you two are the only people in the world. you barely even had to move before your lips brushed up against hers. it’s almost timid, the way you kiss her, as if she’s made of glass. despite your delicacy with her, she’s quick to lean in, as if she’s chasing the feeling of your lips on hers. her bandaged hand that still rests in yours squeezes your hand tightly in reassurance. when she pulls away breathlessly, her cheeks are flushed pink and her face is painted with a smile that you can’t help but swell with pride from knowing you’re the reason it happened.

that same knowing look is back on your classmates’ faces later that same day as they note you and mai exchanging wide smiles they had never seen from either of you as you made your way through the halls of school.

[howisavedtheworld]

i got you | matsukawa issei

genre: fluffy 2 the max, fem!reader x frat guy!mattsun (but not like the annoying disgusting frat guys LFSJDFJS) college!au  

warnings: alcohol/drinking, drunk ass reader sfsjdfsd, its really up to you if its underage LOL 

a/n: matsukawa is the love of my life. i know he would take good care of his gf if she was drunk as hell. im undecided if i like how this came out but im posting anyways! ty for reading :D

wc: 1.4k (crazy bc i wanted it to be less than 1k lol oops)

you are not a disaster drunk. 

at least, that is what you’d known to be true in all your years of alcohol consumption. oftentimes, you were the assigned mother of the group when your friends spent a night downing shots in a sleazy bar. you’d held back hair and kept a colossal number of heads from falling into public toilet seats when their escapades turned left. 

it wasn’t like you quite minded either. 

you figured it was better to be the safe haven than the one needing saving.

matsukawa issei, on the other hand, is a downright disaster drunk. 

every time he passes his limit, which he often does, he loses most of his motor functions, and becomes heavily reliant on anybody willing. every word he does manage to get out is followed by a hiccup. then a burp. and finally, a foreshadowing gag. 

you’d seen it before, and frequently had to drag his disorderly six foot frame to bed after he hurled into your toilet. 

you knew what you were signing up for. 

after all, you’d met him at his very own frat party. 

he’d been drunk enough to spill an entire white claw on you and promptly begged to make it up to you with your favorite drink of all time. you had to explain to him that it wasn’t an alcoholic beverage, but he still insisted on treating you anyways. 

eventually, he became your boyfriend and you adored him despite his inability to drink in moderation. 

the only thing that you found semi-endearing about his inebriation was the fact that he forgets that the two of you are separate beings. instead, he clings to you like duct tape, his burly arms clutching your waist and head lolling back and forth between your shoulder and neck affectionately. 

he especially likes to speak when drunk, slurring and whining things along the lines of: 

“you are so pretty, you do know that, right?”

“how did i get so damn lucky?” 

“you’re the best girlfriend ever.” 

a sliver of you considers that he says these things purely out of intoxication, but you like to believe a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. 

you never brought these moments back up to issei in fear of his dismissal of them. instead, you cherish them secretly, stroking his curls while he lays with his head in your chest when the night finally ends. 

you continue to indulge these whimsical scenarios in which he actually does mean the things he says, and it works for a while. the little untold truth feels harmless. 

it isn’t until the roles were reversed that you find yourself in a frenzy. 

hanamaki, issei’s best friend from high school and another member of his frat, decides to throw a party for his 21st birthday. that meant booze was oozing from every corner of the enormous communal house, and sweaty bodies were scattered around every inch. 

issei had told you prior to the party that he actually wasn’t going to drink, explaining that he was still recovering from the previous night in which he and hanamaki drank a dangerous amount that left him vomiting for hours. 

“this night,” he exclaimed earlier that day with a foolish grin. “this night is yours, babe.”

you’d had a stressful week anyways, and figured you might as well take advantage of the free alcohol.

it had been a while since you’d drank. naturally, you’d forgotten the importance of pacing. 

though the shots initially burned in the back of your throat, everything you downed started to taste more and more like water and the space around you felt less and less tangible. you were sure mattsun had been at your side all night, but time blurred to a point where you knew little of what was truly going on.   

unsure of how much you drank, your eyes eventually opened to see you were slumped against issei’s broad shoulders with your legs wrapped around his waist. 

“i cant believe it, babe.” a strong hand rubbed circles into your back as he hiked you up the stairs leading to his apartment. “i thought you only drank a few shots, but next thing i knew you were just gone. look how the tables turned, am i right?”

he let out a soft chuckle, finally reaching the door of his room. your head was spinning rapidly, and you groaned, trying to move back to make sense of the space around you.

he lets out a curious hum, but a hand moves to keep your head in place. 

“no can do, babe.” the sound of a key jingling and door shifting lets you know you’ve finally made it back. “i’m glad you’re up, but if you move too quickly, you might vomit. i got you.”

you let out a whine, but your head drops back into the dip of issei’s shoulder. 

how had you gotten this fucked up? 

again, you didn’t mind taking care of him or any of your other friends, understanding the nature of college, but to be on the receiving end meant to endure your self-inflicted humiliation. 

“alright, let’s get you some water. oh wait—no, i might have some gatorade left in the fridge.” he mumbles to himself, navigating around the kitchen island.

your eyes fluttered, far too heavy to open, and your body focused instead on processing the sounds around you. 

the fridge opening. 

a soft tsk. 

tap water flowing.

the soft pad of his feet.

a door opening. 

he had finally softly situated you (or at least tried to) in his bed, but a heavy pang ravaged your skull from the change in position, forcing you to loudly groan. 

issei hummed knowingly, and his hand quickly moved to support the back of your head.

“here, baby. here. can you drink this for me?” he coaxed. 

your eyes blinked open to see him holding a glass of water closely to your face, straw dangling in front of your lips. 

you complied, hoping the water would make your insufferable headache dissipate. 

“that’s it, thank you. drink it all if you can. if you want more, i’ll get you more.”

you do finish the glass, and your head falls back into the hand behind it.

you’re too ashamed to look at him, but you feel his eyes on you.

the empty glass against the table.

his soft breathing. 

“you feeling okay, baby? do you think you wanna throw up?”

you shake your head carefully, fearing too much movement would trigger another session of heavy pulsating. 

“okay, baby. i’m here. whatever you need.”

his hand behind your head tenderly found its way to your scalp, softly massaging the skin. 

you had no idea, but you were letting out appreciative sighs. 

“that feels nice, babe? okay, i’ll keep going then.” 

you finally got enough of a grip on yourself to glance up at him. 

he was staring down at you lovingly, lips turned upward in an unabashed smile. 

there was no hint of the shame or disappointment you feared he would have towards you. actually, the only thing you could sense from him was love. 

“i-issei.” you managed to whisper. 

“yeah?” he softly spoke, looking at you expectantly.

“i’m sorry.” 

he shakes his head in disbelief, immediately moving to sit in front of you. 

“sorry for what? for having a stressful week? being a college student?” he let out an exasperated laugh, fingers still rubbing your scalp.

“you don’t have to apologize to me. how many times have you done this for me? you’re my girlfriend. i’ll always take care of you, you know? i’m lucky i even have you. sometimes i don’t even believe it.” he murmured.

“that i got you. the kindest, most beautiful girl in this world. that you gave me, some random guy in a frat your time of day. i’m always shocked. thank you for choosing me.” 

your body froze at the impromptu confession, and your feelings of chagrin and fear dissolved into nothingness. 

it was evident that issei loved you, that his drunk words didn’t even compare to his sober ones.  

“i love you.” you weakly whispered back.

he leaned in to press a light kiss to your forehead. 

“i love you, too. you know i got you, babe.” he said, smiling. “forever.”

[firelxdykatara]

gods, ok, apparently i’m not done.

atla fandom? we need to have a chat.

(....ok that made me sound pretentious as fuck. and maybe i am, but this needs to be said, cause i’m getting....real, real tired of a Certain Corner of this fandom and as a result, this is gonna be a discourse-heavy post so feel free to scroll past if that’s not your bag. as always, my salt posts all carry the catch-all #salt for ts tag, which you’re free to blacklist/filter at your leisure. i’m Very Annoyed at the moment, which will probably come through in the following post, so just. yknow. be prepared for that. or ignore it, that’s perfectly valid too.)

under a cut bc i do care for my followers and their sanity i swear lmao

there’s a real serious issue in this fandom with not understanding what queer terminology actually means or implies, especially when applied to a fictional narrative.

i’m specifically talking about ‘coding’, here. (if i were in a more meme-y mood, i might have said ‘the atla fandom found out about the term “gay-coding” and haven’t shut up since’.)

to the people who say ‘zuko is gay-coded’, i have this to say: you keep using that word. i do not think it means what you think it means. because he isn’t. i’m sorry, but he’s not! and the fact that this is such a prevalent claim in this fandom is distressing, bc it says to me that none of y’all know what gay-coding is or when and how to apply it! please, i’m begging you, go and look up these terms and what they mean and when they should be used before actually trying to plug them into your critical analysis, because when you misuse them and then call other people delusional for disagreeing with you it casts a pall over the entire fandom and is, i think, the root of some of the worst toxicity this fandom has to offer.

and the thing is, there are cases where gay-coding would apply--for instance, a couple series that are famous for queerbaiting their audience by coding their main characters as being attracted to one another (sometimes even despite their openly stated sexualities) come to mind, but those shows bare no similarities at all to atla and how zuko was written and portrayed! (and it would be funny, if it weren’t so obnoxious and infuriatingly wide-spread throughout the fandom, because the only queer couple we actually seen on-screen in either show wasn’t even queer-coded in any respect, and they’re canonically bi! [yes, i’m shading korrasami, or more accurately i’m shading bryke for refusing to give ka the build-up and development they deserved].)

this absolutely isn’t to say that headcanoning zuko as gay is a bad thing or invalid in any respect. (although the tendency for zukka shippers to do this specifically to keep zuko away from katara and/or invalidate his canon relationship/attraction to girls is more than a little eyebrow raising. especially since sokka is usually allowed to be bi, bc fans have no problem letting sukka stay in the background bc it’s no real threat, while jetko shippers are happy to have both boys be bi. [possibly bc katara is less a threat to jetko bc jetkotara is every bit as valid as any single ship between the three, but zukka can’t exactly let katara join in, and if the potential exists for zuko to be attracted to her then canon giving them the far deeper emotional bond becomes a threat to zukka’s existence? idk for sure--you be the judge.]) i prefer to hc zuko as bi (and always have, long before the atla renaissance), bc i don’t think zuko being attracted to boys is outside the realm of possibility, and it isn’t a threat to my ship since zuko&katara had a deep and emotional bond in canon that is very easy to develop further into something that becomes explicitly romantic--but the headcanon itself isn’t really the problem (although what it’s often in service to can be).

it’s the strange insistence that this is the only way to read his character, bc he was coded that way and so anyone who doesn’t see it must be too straight to understand--and i really shouldn’t have to say why and how that is so incredibly fucking insulting. (the ‘hetero lenses’ comment wasn’t cute when it came from bryke six years ago, and the same sentiment being repackaged and delivered by zukka shippers ain’t cute now.)

calling zuko gay-coded not only demonstrates ignorance as to what the term actually means, and how to usefully apply it in critical analysis, but also validates the frankly bullshit insertion of institutionalized homophobia in the world of atla where it was neither needed, nor wanted, nor ever hinted at in canon. as a queer woman i’m still infuriated by one fucking comic panel shoving institutionalized and systemic homophobia into a world where it was entirely unnecessary (and doing this in the first installment of the franchise showcasing a queer relationship??? making korra and asami worried about ‘coming out’ when they could have just gone on to have cute adventures together and tell people ‘hey we’re dating’ and have everyone else be ‘that’s awesome =DDD’ [because it is, in fact, possible to just have a world without homophobia i promise!!!!!] double yikes, i’m still pissed at bryke about it), and i doubly hate that ‘zuko is gay coded’ has become so widespread that ‘ozai hates him bc he’s gay’ has become a staple in that part of the fandom.

not only does making zuko gay and implying (or outright stating) that ozai hated and abused him because of it completely undermine zuko’s character arc by making his abuse about his sexuality rather than ozai’s toxic pride and anger at seeing himself reflected in his ‘weak’ son, but it comes very close to outright stating that abuse and trauma are inherently gay experiences, and they aren’t!!! they really aren’t, i promise!!!

abuse and trauma narratives exist outside of ‘my dad hates me because i’m gay’. and, quite frankly, there are MORE THAN ENOUGH queer trauma narratives out in the world. we do not need to start trying to retroactively make them canon in a series where they didn’t exist! if you’re gay and see yourself in zuko and project your own experiences on him, that’s understandable and valid. that does not make zuko gay-coded. and honestly, the insistence that he is makes very little sense to me, because you’re essentially trying to give the show credit for work you put into interpreting the characters! why would you want to do that? why not own your own headcanons and take credit for them, rather than insisting they are canon and everyone else is wrong for not seeing them??? like, i’ve said before that i’ve always headcanoned zuko (and katara) as bi, and even support it with my interpretations of evidence from the show, but the difference between ‘i think zuko is bi’ and ‘zuko is definitely gay-coded’ is that i know that bi zuko is my interpretation of canon, and that it is work i’m putting into the show that wasn’t actually intended by the creators/writers, no matter how much sexual tension i read into the jetko swordfight.

and like, zuko’s character arc doesn’t actually parallel a queer one all that well to begin with. it’s easy enough to do the work and twist it sideways just enough to make the general points fit, but the fact is, zuko’s arc is not one of self-discovery. it’s not one of coming to understand something fundamental about himself that he can’t change, that he was hated for, and coming out to his father in a dramatic confrontation where he shows that he understands himself and doesn’t need his father’s acceptance to be fulfilled.

zuko’s arc is actually one of trauma and healing. and those can (and often are--like i said, there are more than enough queer trauma narratives in the world, atla really doesn’t need to be one of them) be part of queer narratives, for sure! but they aren’t uniquely queer. and zuko’s confrontation with ozai during the eclipse doesn’t read like a ‘coming out’ at all. (yes, i’ve seen that post. yes, i rolled my eyes and moved on, bc unlike some people, i’m capable of not clowning on correctly tagged posts i disagree with.) zuko is specifically confronting ozai over his abuse, because his arc wasn’t about discovering anything fundamental about himself (and therefore realizing that ozai was hating him for something he couldn’t change)--it was about realizing that he was not at fault for the way his father treated him. it was also about realizing that the fire nation was broken and corrupt at its core, and that his father was an aspect of that he needed to break away from so that he could help the world begin to heal.

he says it himself:

Zuko: No, I've learned everything! And I've had to learn it on my own! Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the War was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world. What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it! We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.

making this about zuko being gay and rejecting ozai’s homophobia, rather than zuko learning fundamental truths about the world and about his home and about how there was something deeply wrong with his nation that needed to be fixed in order for the world to heal (and, no, ‘homophobia’ is not the answer to ‘what is wrong with the fire nation’, i’m still fucking pissed at bryke about that), misses the entire point of his character arc. this is the culmination of zuko realizing that he should never have had to earn his father’s love, because that should have been unconditional from the start. this is zuko realizing that he was not at fault for his father’s abuse--that speaking out of turn in a war meeting in no way justified fighting a duel with a child.

is that first realization (that a parent’s love should be unconditional, and if it isn’t, then that is the parent’s fault and not the child’s) something that queer kids in homophobic households/families can relate to? of course it is. but it’s also something that every other abused kid, straight kids and even queer kids who were abused for other reasons before they even knew they were anything other than cishet, can relate to as well. in that respect, it is not a uniquely queer experience, nor is it a uniquely queer story, and zuko not being attracted to girls (which is what a lot of it seems to boil down to, at the end of the day--cutting down zuko’s potential ships so that only zukka and a few far more niche ships are left standing) is not necessary to his character arc. nor does it particularly make sense.

(and before anyone brings up his date with jin--a) he enjoyed it when she kissed him, and b) he was a traumatized, abused child going out on a first date. of course he was fucking awkward. have you ever met a teenage boy????)

anyway, uh, that was a lot of words, so have a tl;dr: zuko is not gay-coded. there is nothing uniquely gay (or even uniquely queer) about his character arc or characterization, and he was certainly not coded gay in an attempt to sneak a queer character past the censors. if anyone involved with atla was gonna try that, it would’ve been in lok, and as established, they didn’t even manage to queer-code the actual queer relationship before the last few minutes of the final episode. headcanoning zuko as gay is absolutely fine (though if it’s only done to keep him away from female characters he may otherwise be attracted to, that smells more like misogyny than anything else), but insisting that this reading is the only one that makes sense, and anyone who doesn’t agree must be straight (hello, queer woman here making this insanely long thinkpiece) is very much not.

ship what you like, but stop trying to invalidate other ships and other interpretations of characters just to make your ship seem more plausible. it’s really not a good look.

[palmett-hoes]

per your post "every single one of the monsters is autistic and/or adhd" will you elaborate on that?, if you do i will love you forever (not that i wont if you dont do it)

oh boy i would love to!!! unironically nothing brings me more joy than writing long, convoluted character analysis posts

---

okay so i’ve written several posts before about why andrew is autistic. his moral code, the roundabout way he communicates, his body language, his stimulation-seeking behavior, his strict adherence to transactional deals, the emphasis on honesty, and a dozen other details. at this point i just take andrew being autistic as fact, not just an interpretation

h o w e v e r  i also hc that andrew is dyslexic, which is also a neurodiverse condition

- - -

similarly, i’ve seen more than one person interpret kevin as autistic, and i absolutely agree that it fits. not just the hyperfocus on exy but mostly the way he communicates. he’s very indirect, especially in his affection but very direct with his opinions. he tries to be helpful in a material way to the people he cares about, even if he comes off as negative. he wants the people he cares about to be safe and successful so he pushes them to work hard and reminds them in measurable ways how to stay healthy. he doesn’t factor in a lot of room for emotions, so instead he focuses on quantifiable things that he can improve. i personally act very similarly. approaching someone emotionally is hard for me, so when the people i care about have problems all i can think to do is try offering solutions, check up on their well-being, etc. practicality instead of conventional sentiment is extremely common with asd

- - -

so now let’s talk about neil. i had to think on this one for a WHILE but ultimately came to the conclusion that neil is adhd, probably hyperactive type. 

like obviously neil is high energy. i would say he probably does the most exercise of anyone on the team. morning run, morning practice, afternoon practice, night practice with kevin and andrew, plus he doesn’t have a car so he runs to class (on a BIG ass campus), and goes for an extra run when he feels stressed. that’s... insane, honestly.

neil reminds me SO MUCH of this post that goes:

“Was just informed by my mom that I do in fact have ADHD and the reason I thought I didn’t was because ever since I was seven whenever I got super energetic my mom would have me go chop wood so now when I’m feeling The ADHD I go chop wood”

(phenomenal post) and that’s neil to a t. tell me this isn’t exactly how neil handles his problems and also exactly what mary would have had to do to keep her unmedicated and very energetic son focused on the task of staying alive

neil also definitely has that ADHD on/off switch with his interest. the obvious being exy which is like the definition of a hyperfixation, but you can see it in other things: the way he runs totally hot or totally cold with people, his complete disinterest in his schoolwork, the way he can’t seem to sit still long enough to follow movies. but then there’s also the hyperfocus. doing the same drill for hours on end. watching exy game after exy game. staring at andrew until time falls away

what’s more, neil on many occasions shows racing thoughts, both in an anxiety way (and anxiety often goes hand-and-hand with adhd) but also as a way to quickly and accurately take in details about people to build a character profile of them. this is what allows him to connect with the foxes, how he manages to get through andrew’s puzzles, and even how he knows what to say in order to knock riko down a peg. his brain just works so fast and it takes in a lot of very specific details and disparate information to make connections.

but also like,, neil has a HUGE problem with time blindness. like the instant he didn’t have his mother around to manage and direct him anymore he lost all sense of time. he stayed in Millport for a YEAR. and what did he keep telling himself during that time? basically “i really need to move on, but not just yet.” for a YEAR! then he gets to palmetto and he’s like “i’ll cut and run in a month or two” then he doesn’t “i’ll be gone by halloween” wrong again “i’ll leave by the raven’s game” nope. like,, the boy just has NO sense of time and he can’t seem to make himself DO anything outside of an externally enforced schedule. and even then,,, HE HAD 48 FUCKING DAYS TO FIGURE OUT SOMETHING TO DO TO NOT GET MURDERED! 48 WHOLE DAYS. he didn’t make a plan, he didn’t write down any letters with goodbyes, he didn’t GO TO THE FBI LIKE HE’D INTENDED TO THE WHOLE TIME! nah he just made out with andrew and when he finally got to zero he was just like “ah shit, that was fast. oh well guess i’ll die” and that’s time blindness, babey!

---

let’s move on to nicky. 

now i think it would be really easy to say nicky is just adhd because he’s high energy and forgetful but tbh,, i don’t think that’s all of it. like if you really look at nicky’s character and especially at his problems, he has asd problems just as much as he has adhd problems.

so nicky is dual diagnosis asd and adhd. also nicky reminds me a lot of a girl i used to know who was autistic/adhd

so, adhd:

very generally speaking, ppl with adhd will struggle with sitting still, listening to and following instructions, planning/organization, following a schedule, and some social boundaries like “appropriate” times and topics of conversation

i would say you see hints of this with nicky. he’s definitely a rambunctious personality, constantly on the move, constantly stimulation seeking. he’s very tactile. he likes to dance, he likes to party, he complains about it but he’s an elite-level athlete. he’s also decidedly very chatty, and doesn’t seem to really pay attention to what he’s saying. he distracts himself and the people around him have to keep him on track. he has some trouble with boundaries. he’s a little all over the place. he’s almost a bit of an adhd stereotype

also one thing i find interesting is that when neil sees him in the library doing work neil is surprised to see he’s capable of that, especially bc when we see the upperclassmen doing work they generally do it in their dorms or on the bus and/or with other people around. that hyper-social nicky would be alone in a quiet place is weird. but this is like the most common tip for dealing with adhd. don’t do it in a familiar space. have a designated space and time to do work. limit distractions. just a lil detail

so now, asd:

in all honesty, most of nicky’s actual problems in the narrative could be viewed as stemming from asd symptoms. his number one issue being that he has a lot of trouble with nonverbal cues (and tbh, verbal ones too). the twins are mostly quiet. andrew especially (when he’s sober) communicates primarily nonverbally, and nicky seems to have a lot of trouble with this. despite knowing them for the longest on the team, nicky honestly seems to have the least insight into the way either of the twins actually thinks or processes things. he loves them, and he’s very forgiving of them, but he fundamentally doesn’t understand them. 

the twins, andrew especially, put up a LOT of nonverbal boundaries, and nicky sort of inadvertently keeps trampling all over them. he’s touchy in a way they don’t like. he talks a lot about their personal lives to other people. he treats them like they’re joking when they’re serious. etc. and like,,, you kind of get the sense that the upperclassmen feel similarly about him. beyond the homophobia, beyond the fact that he’s loyal to andrew, the upperclassmen still treat him with this sense of,, bafflement, i suppose? it’s clear that they don’t really understand him and he doesn’t really understand them. although, nicky IS curious about the upperclassmen, while the upperclassmen are pretty dismissive of him. it reminds me of when my sweet, floppy dog tries to play with my cat. their body language is different; they’re each receiving different signals than they believe they’re sending out

only,, nicky loves people!! he likes being around them, he likes talking to them. he’s interested in their lives and stories, but it’s very clear that he can’t read between the lines on people. he has an incredibly hard time with people who expect their actions to speak for them, which is most people, but is especially his cousins.

actually this is very much also an issue that i have: things need to be spelled out for me. the way i deal with it is i ask a lot of questions. ‘how do you want me to react to this potential situation?’ ‘what are specific things that make you most comfortable?’ ‘please explain to me exactly how you feel and what has prompted those feelings?’ and i’m always communicating vice versa like that with other people. a lot of specifics in both questions and answers

and the interesting thing is, when i was skimming through the books reviewing dialogue styles for another ask, i noticed that, actually, nicky DOES do this. with neil and the upperclassmen, nicky asks a LOT of quick, clarifying questions. things that ask after tone, that ask after intent. it’s kinda sad that he does this for communicating with acquaintances, but with the twins, the people he’s closest to, he makes a lot more assumptions. and i’m really proud of nicky for having this coping skill, because i can’t imagine it’s something he grew up doing. there’s no way he was raised in an environment that fostered this kind of open communication so it must have been something he learned about much later, probably in germany with the kloses, which would also explain why he’s a lil imperfect about it

---

now last but not least, aaron

this is another one i had to think through for a long time before it felt like it fit

much like how i felt that it would be easy to read nicky as simply adhd rather than also asd, i think it would be easy to say aaron is autistic simply because he is quieter, less rambunctious. however, i actually think he’s adhd, likely primarily inattentive type

in all honesty, aaron’s #1 character trait for the first two books is basically that he’s disconnected. detached. separated both from his family and his team. not in the same forcefully apathetic way that andrew is, more,, spaced out. he’s just kind,, there. not really paying attention to what’s going on, tuning in every once in a while only if something really catches his eye/ear then tuning right back out again. just sits in his corner and plays on his phone. and the thing is, from the moments when he does tune in, you can tell that he actually does care. he backs nicky when seth insults him in tfc, and we know he cares deeply about andrew even if he’s become disillusioned with their fraught relationship. he even hangs with his family, doesn’t seem to really try and slip away to other friends besides katelyn, he’s fine spending his leisure time with the monsters. so it’s not totally apathy, he’s just,,, tuned out most of the time

and, yea, that sounds like adhd. it’s not the type that most people are familiar with, and for a lot of people this causes it to slip under the radar. it can make it hard to get help or a dx because it doesn’t fit with how adhd “should” look or how someone “should” act, but difficulty focusing your thoughts and staying in tune with the current moment is absolutely part of adhd

addiction is also a huge problem for people with adhd. a lot of stimulants affect people with adhd very differently than neurotypicals, especially in small doses, and an adhd kid who’s struggled their whole lives with the disorder might try speed or god-forbid meth or fuck even coffee and suddenly find that things are a lot easier for them. they start to self-medicate, they don’t actually know what they’re doing, and then they’re addicted, and everything spirals out of control. we don’t know too many details about aaron’s addiction other than that his mother enabled him, but wouldn’t this fit? it’s also an explanation for aaron still taking drugs at eden’s, given that cracker dust seems to be a mild amphetamine. (aaron talk to betsy about the neurocog and get an actual prescription please)

(total throw away but aaron plays videogames and videogames are like,, adhd culture)

[1800sunaarinn]

ADULT TRIO + KNIFE PLAY

anon asks:

tw. knife play.

lordie!! knife play is one of my fav kinks to read about, it makes me go whoosh in the tummy. oof, these headcanons are my view of them, please don’t take them seriously 💀 also, word of warning, i’m not that good at writing and describing knife play! it’s a fav to read but a pain to write hehe. i definitely got more confident towards the end, 🙂.

♰ Chrollo Luclifer

i think chrollo would definitely be the most tamest when it comes to knife play, only because he doesn’t want to mark up your pretty skin with thin scars

he wouldn’t use it as a form of punishment because he tends to go all out with his punishments, and there’s no telling if he would be to control himself when in that mindset

but, i think if you do ask him to go a bit harder with the knife, he would. he respects your wishes and places your want above anything else, so there’s that.

he’ll be sweet about it, but with an underlying hint of sadism, because this is chrollo we’re talking about. he steals and kills to get what he want!!

but,,, i do think he might go against his rule of not using it as a form of punishment when you’ve really made him angry.

he won’t slash and dice at you, lololol. but he would press the knife deeper against your skin, idk tbh!!

#///:!!! +

“So pretty, baby.” Chrollo’s gray eyes had their usual warmth, watching with a small cruel twinged smile as your body reacted to the fresh, long, thin line of cut skin. The warm blood pressed against the open wound and fell down like a curtain, quickly reaching your left breast and coating it the skin.

The pain didn’t register, only tendrils of pleasure warping around your body, causing a short shudder. Warmth filled your body, and the need to be cut at again had you begging for more. “Kur, more, I need more!”

“As you wish,” And, thus started a chain of thin cuts along the top of your breasts. Each cut causing a different pleasurable sound to escape you, and each sound turning Chrollo on even more than before.

Your hands were gripping the sheets, your eyes closed shut to conceal the watering, and your jaw slacken. It were simple cuts you were receiving, small thin cuts, yet it was enough to dampen your panties. The ache between your legs became more dominant, and you tried to close your legs only to remember who were between them.

Chrollo noticed the action, grinning with sudden mischief. He began to softly drag the knife against your skin, between your breasts, down your stomach and only inches above your lacy, red silky panties. Your hips jerked upwards softly, in a silent ask to get a move on.

“Kur, come on!”

“Are you going to ask nicely?”

“Please,”

He only hummed, one hand gripping your thigh and spreading them. You only watch in anticipation as the knife is brought closer to your soft flesh, mouth watering at the thought of feeling the pinch of pain and pleasure on your sensitive thighs.

You’re not left disappointed, as the knife softly traces against your skin. The cool metal sending shivers through you, the blade softly rubbing against your skin. The slightest bit of pressure was added, breaking the skin and sending blood spilling down.

You reacted with a soft moan, eyes trained on the knife and blood. The knife moved with the same amount of pressure along your thigh, unlike last time, he doesn’t stop with a single thin cut, he continued on with the knife. Only lifting it a tiny bit before reconnecting it.

Your head had fell back then, soft whimpers leaving your throat at the continued pain in your thigh.

“Hm, pretty.” Chrollo hummed, you look up then, noticing the mirth and excitement in his eyes. “You are mine, forever, now. You know that right?”

You only nod in agreement, not registering the kanji characters that spelled out Kuroro Lucilfer. “You are mine too, right?”

The knife cuts through the skin, presenting your wet and dripping cunt to him. He pressed the flat side of the knife against your cunt lips, trailing down snd collecting your wetness on the blade. “Right,” he answered back, looking into your eyes as he placed the wet knife in his mouth, licking your arousal from it with a hum.

He chunked the knife away then, it landed perfectly in the wall, but you ignored it in favor of diving your hands into his black hair. Sharply moaning when his eagerly leaned forward and attacked your aching cunt.

It was then you actually took note of his name against your thigh.

🃏 Hisoka Morow

honestly, this clown will definitely be the most sadistic one of the three. now, now, here me out! not only does he like that you let him fight you, sex you, but you also let him mark you up?! with a knife, no less?!?!

bloodlust bc he wants to kill? we don’t know her!! all we know is that listing to see your blood running down the valley of your breasts, and ultimately him licking it up.

but,, despite his obvious eagerness to do this act with you. he would be a little worried about your blood loss, bc bitch is not letting up on the deep ass cuts, and it’s not like you’re stopping him.

you’re much as a sadistic as him, so he probably have cuts everywhere as well. but with texture surprise, you both have most of those cuts concealed. this will definitely turn into some type of power olay on who can get the most cuts and the deepest.

hisoka finds pleasure in just about anything, so it isn’t surprise when he decides to fuck you while also cutting you.

like chrollo, his name will be somewhere on your body. and your name on his body, don’t forget that!!

#///:!!! +

You pant lightly, thighs tightening just a bit around Hisoka’s thighs as the knife along your collarbone drags down in a slow and tantalizing pace. It was a deep cut that sent a small abundance of blood spilling down, running along your chest and breasts, and eventually dripping onto Hisoka’s lap. The smirk plastered on Hisoka’s lips was enough for you know to that he was only getting started, but so were you.

“My turn,” You said, a smirk of your own appearing. The bedazzled knife in your hand was cold, the blade glinting beautifully in the light. You twirl the knife a few times before teasingly dragging it against his cheek and jaw, grinning when his smirk slip.

The knife drags pass his throat, and in between his collarbones. Then, you add press and drag the knife down. Blood immediately stains his skin and chases after the knife, collecting and doubling in size.

Hisoka overexaggerates his whimpers, barely concealing his excitement.

You barely had enough time to pull your knife away before gripping your hair, pulling back and exposing your naked upper half. His own knife teasingly smoothing across your expanse of skin, grinning with bloodlust as he makes small cuts along your stomach, watching in sick satisfaction when your hips jerks.

“Ah!” You moan, having nearly forgot that his cock was buried deep within you. The sudden movement pressed his deeper, and sent waves of pleasures through your body, your cuts tingling with the sensation.

With the knife dragging against your waist and hip teasingly, back and forth, not even close to cutting the skin but enough to keep you on edge. Hisoka leaned forward and latched his mouth on your skin, tongue lapping at the blood.

Your moans reverberating around the room as your hips move at a slow pace, as his warm tongue licked along your skin, as the cool knife teasingly drags along your skin.

“M-more, Hisoka!” You urge, hands settling on his shoulders. With a single push, he fell back against the back, the knives forgotten on the floor.

Both hands on his chest, and his hands on your hips, you began to move your hips quicker, chasing an orgasm. Both of your moans created a symphony.

Your own blood dripped onto Hisoka, mixing together with his, and outlining the characters that spelled out your name.

📍Illumi Zoldyck

first and foremost,, illumi would definitely be more than happier to extract his control over you. which is mostly way he’ll be the one to have the most marks, bc, one you a bad bitch and two he not finna extract any type of control over you

you built different. nobody finna manipulate or control you, and that’s just facts. and besides, illumi is fucking sub and if anybody tells me otherwise, you’re wrong❤️. idk idk idk, this man is a sub and i’m not taking constructive criticism.

he might look bad and tough, but that’s all out the window the second he under you!! i’m telling you, this man will be so pliant in your arms it’s crazy. ofc once he actually trusts you enough to be in this situation, duh.

he will definitely have that dumb ass look in his eyes ⚫️.⚫️, and you’re like 👁^➖ “i gotchu babe.” type shit. this don’t make any sense.

idk idk idk i think when he’s comfortable enough, he will definitely start moaning and whimpering when you cut him. but, like, knife play almost never leads to sex. illumi just likes to being cut at by you—!!

he wants you to cut him a bit too deep, but you’re like not too deep because you have no idea what type of relaxes might kick in if you go too deep. one wrong move and you dead, dead as a cockroach 🤪.

#///:!!! +

You were sitting on Illumi’s lap, perfectly clothed, a small twinge of cruelty in your eyes as you twirl the knife in your fingers. Illumi was only half dressed, his pants on, his shirt missing, and his long hair spilling over his shoulders and onto the bed.

“You’re mine, yes?” You ask, twirling the knife even faster before gripping it with a small smack. You stared into his black eyes, not bothered that they were as emotionless as always.

“I am to be your husband.” He answered, a bit robotically. You were working on that, though, safely and healthy undoing years and years of conditioning seemed a bit impossible. Especially for someone like Illumi who held his family’s traditional above anything else.

“Mhm,” You hummed, placing the knife against his neck and smirking when his breath hitched slightly. You trailed the knife down his shoulder blade, along his arm and dragging the smallest hint of blood. Then with a quickness that rival his own, your hand was tangled in his hair, wrapped around your hand and you tugged harshly. The knife back his throat. “You are mine, yes?”

You briefly imagined if this was hard for him to admit, he was use to being able to have his control on others, but you proved to be different, you brought out a different side of him. Had this been anyone else, he would’ve killed them. But you were you, his fiancée, the person he trusted with his life. The only person he will ever allowed this to happen. “I am yours.”

“Good boy,” You praise, kissing his cheeks before letting go of his hair. There was the faintest hint of blush on his cheeks. The knife dragged downwards, skimming over his collarbones and down his chest, smoothed over the rigs in his stomach before back up again. Only this time, with added pressure that caused blood to immediately spill over.

He didn’t show any indication that he was in pain, or pleasure for that matter. You took that as challenge, as you always do. Right underneath his left pectoral, you began to carve your name into his skin. Deep enough to scar over and show, and you relished in the sharp intake of breath from Illumi.

“Is that your name?” He asked, and you looked up to meet his eyes, startling at the sudden fire burning in them. He was looking at you as if you were meal ready to be eaten, the sudden emotion cussing you to pause slightly.

“And, if it is?” You raised a brow, collecting yourself easily and finishing off the last character of your name.

“Then, it is only fair that I carve my name into your skin as well.” Illumi stated, and quickly, the knife was snatched for you hands and your back was meeting the soft bed. You had no time to collect yourself, your pants being tugged off, revealing your lacy panties, and his large hand on your thigh.

“Aht, aht—!” You pressed your foot to his bare chest, eyes burning with similar fire. “Ask me first, Illumi.”

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Illumi, ask me first.” Your tone left no room for arguing.

He blinked once, eyes boring into yours, seemingly trying to assert his dominance. He definitely needed some more work, his lingering controlling nature still present. But, you weren’t going to back down. Kneeling over for a man is not something you do, something your mother always told you not to do.

You raised a brow.

“May I?” He asked, his tone the same flat number it always is. You nod your consent. He goes to bring the knife closer, but you stop him again. “Thank you,”

You smirk then, “you’re welcome, pretty boy.” And you watch as his cheeks turn a small hint of pink, and as the knife began to carve his name into your soft thigh.

📍. 20/13/11.

note — oof, can you tell who my favorite in the adult trio is? i definitely gained more confidence in this towards the end. i’m not fully happy with this, but i’m confident enough to post it??

requests for one shots are closed.

thirst anon, character anon, and regular anon questions are open.