#don't ask about the logic i don't want to think too hard about it

[jade-of-mourning]

Tenzin stares down at the scowling, scrawny kid. He's dressed in a patched grey shirt bound hastily at the forearms, equally-patched trousers hanging off his frame despite the long length of his skinny legs, and his feet are currently bare aside from some more dirty wrappings around the arch and heel. A shockingly red scarf loops around his neck, several times too-big and frayed at the ends. He's maybe fourteen or fifteen despite the heavy grey lines underscoring his features, because there's a familiar despair written in the recurring story — prominent cheekbones sticking out of his thin, pointy face, lips chapped and pale from the freezing winter nights of Republic City, gold-flecked brown eyes glaring back at him defiantly. 

And he's in a pair of handcuffs.

"So this is the one, you say," he addresses to the woman standing next to him. Her arms are crossed against her chest, a glare plastered across her face — precisely mirroring that of the scrappy boy handcuffed to the table in front of them. They're having an intense stare-down.

If he didn't know any better, he'd almost think this was her kid.

(But he knows all too well that he's not.)

Lin Beifong scowls. "Fucker tried to hit Jian with lightning after spotting her during a stakeout on a Triple Threats warehouse. He then managed to single-handedly fight off three officers while the rest of the gang bailed, looking like a feral, lightning-happy pyromaniac while at it —" The feral, lightning-happy pyromaniac looks pleased for a moment, before promptly dropping back into a glower "— and when I sent a cable at him from the back, he shot a pillar out of the concrete ground to block it."

"How do you know it was him?" Tenzin asks. 

"I know the motions. I am an earthbender, in case you forgot."

"Perhaps there was another man waiting behind to assist his escape, who earthbent the ground upon seeing his comrade in danger."

Lin grunts. "The team split when the cowards scrammed, and managed to capture a few of the accomplices. None of those fleeing were in the vicinity by the time the incident occurred."

"There could have been more of them involved than just the ones you saw fleeing the scene," Tenzin suggests.

"We were in the middle of a stakeout, Tenzin. If you need a definition, a stakeout is a period of time where the police conduct surveillance on —"

Tenzin cuts her off, conceding before she can keep going on at him. "Understood. But how can you know for certain that there weren't other members coincidentally passing through who elected to lend a hand?"

Lin acknowledges the point; the outside world doesn't come to a standstill when there's a fight inside. "One of the captured men said that the kid is Zolt's protege, which adds up with the frequency of which I see him in the aftermath of incursions. They're shamelessly bitter about him being the boss' favorite, and they clearly don't hold any well-regards towards him, so they don't have reason to offer assistance, aside from attempting to curry favor from a fourteen year old — and no faces were shown to that point, so that's out of question. Besides, they're gangsters. What sense of loyalty to each other do you really think they have?"

"More than you've got to the city." Both Tenzin and Lin whip their heads around in surprise at the low, raspy voice, having forgotten of the boy's presence during their back-and-forth. He looks almost like he wants to curl inwards on himself, but instead raises his chin higher up and manages to glare at them with even more force, if possible. "You police ain't done shit for us. You're all the same purposefully ignorant bastards. That's how we get here, but you knew that." The subject of we goes unsaid; all three of them in the closed metal room know precisely what he's talking about.

"So are you saying that one of your loyal friends stayed behind and bent that earth for you?" Lin demands, ignoring the jab at her dignity. Tenzin knows she's retracted the heel of her uniform, searching for a heartbeat.

The boy leans back in the chair flippantly. "Nah," he says curtly. "They're smart enough. None of 'em would stick 'round for me." It's contrary to the earlier claim of mutual loyalty, but unsurprising.

"So it was you," Tenzin concludes.

"I never said it was."

"Then who else could it have been?" The frustration is bubbling up in him, the way it always has since he was a kid; Dad had always laughed and said that he must've gotten it from his mother, quick to anger and full in force, but Tenzin has never been able to quell the feeling down despite his best efforts to be more like his father.

"Bet it was one of your cop cronies." There's something intense and unhinged and wild in the kid's half-pyrite eyes, almost glowing in the gleeful challenge. "Pro'ly got bored of the metal rod permanently stuck up your ass n' thought it'd be funny if —"

"Young man! You will not speak of —"

"I'm jus' sayin' —"

"Enough." Lin slams her fist down on the table, and the light in the boy's eyes dims in an instant. "I've had enough of your hog-monkey shit. Either you be straight with me and we can settle this quickly, or I'm holding you here as long as I deem necessary."

Which can be a very long time, goes unsaid.

Tenzin inspects the kid carefully, sees the minute way his shoulders slump down, and suddenly, all he can see in front of him is Jinora, hunching in on herself as her parents lecture her about not feeding her dinner to the sky bison. He doesn't know why — after all, this is a lightning-bending gangster, almost certainly raised by the streets in poverty and desperation; he couldn't be further from Tenzin's family.

But.

He's still just a kid.

Beneath all that bravado, those bitter, biting words, the degenerate behaviour that brought him here in the first place, the skin stretched too-thin over bones jutting out of his face — the harsh exterior is made to protect a kid who's seen too much. Tenzin knows that for certain.

And Tenzin is suddenly tired, because the boy is right. There's a reason that kids like him run with gangs, learn to fight dirty and low and vicious, and he's not naive enough to believe that it's not in-part due to their own failure as adults in power. He places a hand on Lin's shoulder — a silent request for her to step back and trust him. She looks over at him, green eyes meeting blue, and he's struck by how beaten down she looks by this conversation despite her infallible presence. Despite their time away from each other, despite the inevitable fallout that halved their world together like a splintering ravine and left no chance of reprieve, she knows him. 

She steps back.

Tenzin seats himself at the table as Lin moves to the corner of the room. Takes a deep breath to steady himself, tries to channel the way his father always made people feel like everything would be alright. "Young man," he says in a reasonable tone, "please, let's try again. Would you be willing to tell me your name?"

"It's —"

"Mako," the boy interjects before Lin can finish for him, take his autonomy, eyes dropping to the table. There's an unmistakable air of defeat around him, one at total odds of the snapping, feral boy described and seen from before. "My… My name's Mako. Why's it matter to you?"

Tenzin nods resolutely, ignoring the question. "Well, Mako. I have a proposal for you — one that should keep you out of the police station." 

A raised eyebrow.

Once it's out of his mouth, he can't retract it. He knows that there will be consequences for speaking without consulting Pema, Lin, his kids.

But his heart is telling him that this is right. Not just that it's the right thing to do, but also that the kid sitting handcuffed to the table in front of him is the Avatar. He can see it in his eyes, hard and resentful and gold-brown and so different from his father's, yet still the same in some inexplicable way. Reconciling the idea of this lightning-bending gangster of a street kid with the man who co-founded this city is… overwhelming, and Tenzin would almost rather blow this situation off and let himself live in remembering his father for who he is, not for whoever Mako turns out to be. But Tenzin has a duty to the world, and a duty to his father, and so he will ensure that he does the new Avatar right.

"I would like to invite you to stay on Air Temple Island for the time being. We can discuss the objective after I am able to gather the resources necessary to run an evaluating test. Do you accept?"

Mako glances over at Lin; Tenzin resists the urge to do the same. He doesn't need her approval for this — it's his home, and he knows what he's doing. He can't read the thoughts behind the boy's eyes as they flick between the two adults who hold an infinite amount of power over him, can't follow what internal strife might be occurring in his head.

Then Mako shrugs, an abrupt, jerky motion. "Sure."

Lin Beifong throws her hands up in the air, and leaves the interrogation room. She can't be bothered to deal with this; it's five in the morning. She needs some fucking sleep.

my ao3 (but it's not posted there)

sorry this was a crack idea i had while practicing piano and i had to crank it out. i Might write a series of oneshots on this if i get too inspired lol (similar to what empty shores was supposed to be)

yes bolin is alive in this au, yes i have an unfortunate amount of ideas, yes i'm still writing my normal conceivable-to-complete fics.

if tenzin thought korra was hard to work with, he is going to have a blast with mako, who comes pre-packaged with fifty times more trauma that korra had when she pulled up to air temple island. (and is also prone to stealing, and running away, and murder as necessary, probably.) (this is going to be so terrible on all sides until it gets better!)

[running-in-the-dark]

went somewhere with my husband and his dad today (to pick up my in-laws' "new" camper van). the guys that were selling it had a baby with them and it was so freaking adorable. so I kept making silly faces and hiding for a few seconds and that kind of stuff to make the baby laugh (it was fun!). anyway, after a while one of the guys asked when my husband and I are having kids and I just went like oh never. we have two cats, that's enough, and most babies aren't as cute as that one anyway so nope not interested in that.

[luckyladylily]

So a few months ago there was the discourse about would you rather meet a man or a bear in the woods. I didn't want to touch it while the discourse was hot and everyone dug in hard because those are not good conditions for nuance, but I waited until today, June 1st, for a specific reason.

I'm not going to take a position in the bear vs man debate because I don't think it matters. What is really being asked here is how afraid are you of men? Specifically, unexpected men who are, perhaps, strange.

People have a lot of very real fear of men that comes from a lot of very real places. Back when I was first transitioning in 2015 and 2016, I decided to start presenting as a woman in public even though I did not pass in the slightest.

I live in a red state. I knew other trans women who had been attacked by men, raped by men. I knew I was taking a risk by putting myself out there. I was the only visibly trans person in the area of campus I frequented, and people made sure I never forgot that. Most were harmless enough and the worst I got from them was curious stares. Others were more aggressive, even the occasional threat. I had to avoid public bathrooms, of course, and always be aware of my surroundings.

I know how frightening it is to be alone at night while a pair of men are following behind you and not knowing if they are just going in the same direction or if they want to start something - made all the worse for the constant low level threat I had been living under for over a year by just being visibly trans in a place where many are openly hostile to queer people. You have to remember, this was at the height of the first wave of bathroom law discussions, a lot of people were very angry about trans women in particular. My daily life was terrifying at times. I was never the subject of direct violence, but I knew trans women who had been.

I want you to keep all that in mind.

So man or bear is really the question "how afraid of men are you?", and the question that logically follows is "What if there was a strange man at night in a deserted parking lot?" or "What if you were alone in an elevator with a man?" or "What if you met a strange man in the woman's bathroom?"

My state recently passed an anti trans bathroom bill. The rhetoric they used was about protecting women and children from "strange men", aka trans women.

Conservatives hijack fear for their bigoted agenda.

When I first started presenting as a woman the campus apartment complex was designed for young families. The buildings were in a large square with playgrounds in the center, and there were often children playing. I quickly noticed that when I took my daughter out to play, often several children would immediately stop what they were doing and run back inside. It didn't take me long to confirm that the parents were so afraid of "the strange man who wears skirts" that their children were under strict instructions to literally run away as soon as they saw me.

"How afraid are you of a strange man being near your children?"

I mentioned above that I had to avoid public bathrooms. This was not because of men. It was because of women who were so afraid of random men that they might get violent or call someone like the police to be violent for them if I ever accidentally presented myself in a way that could be interpreted as threatening, when my mere presence could be seen as a threat. If I was in the library studying and I realized that it was just me and one other woman I would get up and leave because she might decide that stranger danger was happening.

Your fear is real. Your fear might even come from lived experiences. None of that prevents the fact that your fear can be violent. Women's fear of men is one of the driving forces of transmisogyny because it is so easy to hijack. And it isn't just trans women. Other trans people experience this, and other queer people too. Racial minorities, homeless people, neurodivergent people, disabled people.

When you uncritically engage with questions like man or bear, when you uncritically validate a culture of reactive fear, you are paving the way for conservatives and bigots to push their agenda. And that is why I waited until pride month. You cannot engage and contribute to the culture of reactive fear without contributing to queerphobia of all varieties. The sensationalist culture of reactive fear is a serious queer issue, and everyone just forgot that for a week as they argued over man or bear. I'm not saying that "man" is the right answer. I am saying that uncritically engaging with such obvious click bait trading on reactive fear is a problem. Everyone fucked up.

It is not a moral failing to experience fear, but it is a moral responsibility to keep a handle on that fear and know how it might harm others.

[i-starcreamed]

Hi!, can I get some headcanons of transformers one character being jealous and the reader teases them.

D-16, Orion, Sentinel, Badassatron, and elita.

TF-ONE X READER

I tried to make this silly I'm feeling silly...enjoy

Post includes all of above :3

D-16

Tries to act unaffected by it, but doesn’t make a huge deal

Usually

He’s usually nice about it

Let’s say a bot is being really friendly with you, they’re making you laugh and everything. D sees from the distance, then comes up to you. Placing a servo against the small of your back-frame. “Heyy what’s so funny? I want to hear too :)”

He’s forcing a smile so bad.

He’s harmless, man, he trusts you completely

If another bot is for real flirting with you though, he's going to be so passive-aggressive

It’s more like he wants ur attention lol

If you teased him about it he’s going to deny it so hard

"What? No, no no.. I’m not jealous..pfft"

If you’re extra sweet maybe he’ll admit it

NOO y/n.. I’m funnier than them anyway.. I’m cooler too..

Orion

Don’t get jealous often either

He trusts you, he’s trustful of most bots

He gets jealous when you don't give him enough attention too

You’ll be talking to someone and he’ll just be in the background like,

“I’m..Y/N? Hey I..y/n? Uhm..I'm..right here..”

He’s so awkward, he doesn’t want to be rude to either of you but he’s lonely!!

If you tease him about looking sad when you’re not looking at him all the time, he’ll softly scoff.

"Well...yeah. They were flirting with you.."

sad puppy eyes

"Orion..they were asking me about Sentinels speech yesterday.."

"Oh...sorry."

eughhh

Sentinel

Oh boy

It’s a mix of irritation and jealousy

Why are you looking at someone else! When you can be looking at him!

He might be an attention seeker. He’ll just say things to catch your attention.

“Hey sweetspark, come look at my new paint job!” He calls you over as you're busy talking to someone else, he looks exactly the same btw

If you teased him I feel like he’ll take it way too seriously

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?? I’m literally Sentinel??”

But then his insecurity starts

“Wait…do you like talking to them more?”

evil sad puppy eyes

He'll only be content if you feed him compliments. Also erm..never talk to that bot again

#toxic

If he can’t demote the bot he was jealous of, he’ll try to one-up them, otherwise they are FIRED

After he gets over it he’ll be extra affectionate. You also get affectionate when you tease him so maybe it’s not so bad after all

insert makeout session

B-127

Badassatron

He’s definitely a bit attention and touch-starved after being stuck in low levels for who knows how many years

It’s only logical that he’s glued to your side for the rest of your life

If he’s jealous it’s very obvious. He tries to do something to get your attention or awkwardly stands there

Hey y/n look at this! - Does a backflip and falls

Tease him about it and he gets flustered

"Whattt? No, I’m not jealous!" He lets out a cocky laugh

“Ok maybe a little..”

Kiss his faceplate all over and he’s yours

He's definitely the least harmful

If he's jealous about a bot he particularly dislikes or they're flirting with you out and about, he might be more passive-aggressive about it

"Hey don't mean to intrude or anything, but uh, I'm kinda busy with my PARTNER. And by PARTNER I mean we're together. Yeah, uh huh! So, if you don't mind, my PARTNER and I are going to ignore you now. Since we're y'know..busy being together."

Elita

She’s smug about her jealousy, but only you could tell

“No, I’m not jealous. What makes you think that?”

Meanwhile, she’s giving the nastiest glare to the other bot.

“You really need to stop bringing their hopes up. Did you hear the way they were flirting with you?”

“Elita...they were just thanking me."

“Don’t even look at them actually"

If you tease her, she either denies it or is very proud

Like yeah she got a little jealous, she has such an amazing partner and anyone in their right mind would see that too.

Or no..she's definitely not jealous. She's just speaking her mind

[reidswhre]

can you figure me out? ; spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you try everything possible so that spencer realizes that you are completely in love with him, but he just doesn't seem to notice it.

warnings: i had spencer from season 2 in mind, nothing dw!

a/n: I had this draft saved and I was improving it to be able to post it, I hope you enjoy it! I have a couple of requests, thank you very much!! I hope to be able to make them soon. 💗 By the way, english is not my first language, let me know any mistakes, have a beautiful day! 💘

Everyone at the BAU knew you were completely in love with Spencer Reid.

Except for Spencer.

Which was sometimes funny—most of the time it was—but other times it was frustrating. It didn’t seem logical to you how a genius with an IQ of 187 couldn’t realize that he was basically the love of your life. It’s not like you were trying to hide it or something. He’s just oblivious.

Because of this, Morgan and García proposed a little game to you.

“I bet you could flirt with him all day, and he’d think you were just being friendly,” Penelope laughed.

You lightly bumped your forehead against your desk, staying there defeated. “Don’t even say that,” you mumbled against the desk.

“Hey, hey, don’t be sad, cutie,” Derek gently lifted your head so you could see him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. He’s just… something else,” he laughed.

“Don’t say that,” you frowned at Derek.

Derek raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not offending your husband."

"He's not my husband, and he never will be if he never pays attention to me." You sighed.

"Look, sweetie, flirt with him all day, no filter." She laughed.

Derek played along. "That's right, let's see how hard it is for him to notice." He laughed too.

"Stop playing around, this is serious, don't be like that." You were quite sad.

"We're being serious too!" Derek exclaimed.

"I mean, it's what you want, right? For him to notice. It's not possible that you flirt with him all day and he doesn't notice." Penelope added. "And listen, babe, if he doesn't notice this, I'm sorry to say it, but he's ignoring you," she explained to you.

You groaned and rested your head on the desk.

After a while, you started thinking about what Morgan and Garcia had said. After all, you had nothing to lose; in the end, it was basically what you did every day. Although, of course, this was a bit over the top, but who knows if it was over the top enough for Spencer to notice.

"Hey, you." You smiled at Spencer, who was in the office kitchen making one of his coffees.

Spencer looked at you. "Oh, hey." He gave you a smile, one of those where he just closed his lips without showing his teeth. Pretty typical of him.

"Those glasses?" You smiled, trying to make conversation.

Of course, you had noticed them; how could you not? He started wearing them about a week ago, and he looked dreamy. So much so that you thought you stared at him for about five minutes straight a couple of days ago while Hotch was explaining a new case.

"Mm, the contacts were really bothering my eyes lately." He explained while continuing to prepare his coffee.

"Well, they look great on you; you look great, really handsome." You began your mission.

"They’re nothing special. I had to get anti-reflective coating because the glare was bothering me too. It’s a coating applied to both surfaces of the lenses to reduce the glare caused by reflected light." He started explaining, as he always did, not noticing your attempt to tell him he looked good.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 1 - 0 : You.

"Ah—right, yeah." You sighed and watched him leave the kitchen, giving you another one of his smiles.

Second attempt.

You were at your desks, which were next to each other, finishing paperwork from the last case.

"Are you done? It's almost lunchtime," you asked Spencer.

"I still have to finish the geographical profile," he said, looking at his papers. "But I can do it after lunch." He looked at you.

"Great! I was thinking, would you like to go to that sandwich place a couple of blocks away?"

"Oh, sure! Tito’s, right?" He said, recalling the name of the place. "Sounds great." He smiled at you.

You were a bit surprised. "Oh, really? Great—Yeah, perfect." You stumbled over your words a bit—he had just accepted a date with you!

"Great, I'll tell the others," he said as he tidied up his desk.

"Okay, sure," you replied without thinking. "Wait—what? Spencer—" Maybe you thought he accepted a date with you too soon.

"Morgan loves that place," he told you. "See you later, okay?" He smiled and left.

You sighed.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 2 - 0 : You.

You sighed again.

Hotch and JJ explained a new case to you—apparently, there was a serial killer in Mill Creek, and this other guy who called himself the "Empty Man." It seemed they had some sort of rivalry and were killing women without restraint. So now, you guys would have to travel to St. Louis to help solve the case.

Everyone boarded the plane, which took off immediately after the case was announced. Everyone was scattered around the plane, analyzing the case. You were sitting next to Reid, across from the little table that those seats have.

After that tragic and terrifying lunch, you were left thinking about the possibility that Spencer did know and was ignoring you to avoid hurting you. Maybe he just didn’t like you, which wasn’t such a big deal. But you wished that if that were the case, he would at least tell you.

"Are you okay?" you heard the voice of the man from Las Vegas next to you.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, of course," you replied instinctively.

"You don’t seem like it," he said with a frown.

Great, now he was starting to notice things.

"Really, I’m fine. I was just—thinking," you replied honestly.

"About what?" he asked.

"About you," you blurted out. The truth was, it was now or never; it didn’t matter whether he felt the same way or not.

"Me? Why about me?" he asked, even more confused.

"You're incredible, Reid," you laughed—it was better than crying. "I’ve been trying all day to get you to notice how much I like you! And you don’t understand anything!"

Awesome.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 3 - 0 : You.

Double awesome.

"Do you like me?" Spencer said, completely clueless.

"Of course i do! Ever since I got here. And I've tried everything but—" You sighed. "You don't like me... And that's okay, I don't expect you to, I just wish you'd tell me, you know?"

Spencer let out the breath he was holding and laughed a little. "Where did you get that from? How do you think I don't like you?"

"I do?" You opened your mouth in surprise, which made him laugh.

"Of course you do," he laughed. "I just thought you were being nice to me, you're nice to everyone, I didn't think it was special with me."

"Of course you are!" You laughed.

"According to April Bleske-Rechek, the psychologist leading the task force that studied the relationship between men and women, males and females have a very different perception of the messages they receive from the opposite sex." Reid started to Reidplain as he always did. "This, especially in the case of men, leads them to misinterpret signals."

"Really?" You said sarcastically, leaning on your hand, watching him as he explained.

"Yes, which is why I thought I was misinterpreting you." He shrugged.

"Not at all." You smiled as you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

"We're in the middle of a case, I'd appreciate it if you two could behave," Hotch said from the back of the plane.

"Oh, right, right, yeah—I'm sorry," both of you mumbled a bunch of incoherent apologies.

Then you looked at each other out of the corner of your eye with a small smile.

Awesome.

You: 1 - 3: Spencer’s obliviousness.

Triple awesome.

Take that, silly mental scoreboard.

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  sharing a bed with them 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma

content: pre-relationship bed sharing, flirty/mildly sexual implications

It's truly unfortunate that, while on a mission for the Agency, you have to share a bed with DAZAI — or so you think, at least. He doesn't share the sentiment in the slightest, instead smiling as innocently as possible the moment his gaze falls onto the single bed in the hotel room booked for the night. While he pretends to offer you the bed, he'll guilt-trip you about the couch being way too short for his long legs and about his back already aching until, eventually, you give in and share it with him.

Naturally, he gets into your space more than necessary at night, pretending he's asleep while cuddling close to you, given how, then, you can't cuss him out for wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face in your neck, breath warm against your throat. It's worse that he knows if you won't get any amount of sleep whatsoever, much too busy with fighting off arousal while he's pressed flush against your back.

“Hm? No, it's alright. I don't mind taking the couch. What kind of man would I be if I let you sleep on there? Still, it's just — it's way too short and hard. Couches this uncomfortable shouldn't exist, really. I doubt I'll be able to get even a wink of sleep tonight, what a shame.”

When there turns out to only be one bed in the hotel room you're supposed to stay in for the night, CHŪYA doesn't even hesitate before offering you the bed, immediately going for the couch instead. He won't accept any protests either; no matter whether you're worried about his comfort or just think it's polite to refuse his offer, he won't allow you to spend the night on a sofa. He's not making a huge deal out of it and, if you keep being annoying about it, he gets more and more exhausted by the minute.

Eventually, he might give in to the idea of sharing the bed. He has no trouble keeping to himself — or so he believes, because, once he's actually asleep, softly snoring into your ear, he's moving wildly, one leg eventually thrown over your body, arms stretched out. If you mention it to him in the morning, his cheeks flush soft pink.

“Hm? The fuck you mean, you'll be taking the sofa? Definitely not. I'm already here — and I don't mind. Go lie down and get some sleep. We've got a busy day tomorrow.”

RANPO, the very moment he steps foot into the room, decides he wants the bed to himself. The idea of taking the couch doesn't even cross his mind; instead, he makes his way over to the bed all too quickly, though, when you end up either glaring at him or asking him to share, he just shrugs.

Really, he doesn't make too big of a deal out of sharing a bed, not even seeming a little nervous at the idea of lying down beside you for hours on end. Meanwhile, at night, he cuddles up close to you — actually asleep, unlike a certain someone —, arms wrapped around you, for once completely unaware of you being all flustered because of him. In the morning, it'll be like nothing happened, even though you can't quite stop thinking about

“What are you looking at me like that for? I said we can share. If you're hoping to have it for yourself, tough luck. I was here first, just saying. Just get in or move to the couch already, I'm tired.”

All of FYODOR'S decisions are based on logic; this one is no exception. If the bed is large enough to fit two people, it's large enough for the two of you to share — though, if you feel like taking the couch instead, he won't protest. That's your decision to make, after all.

While actually sharing the bed with him, it's basically like you're alone in there, anyway. He doesn't move when asleep, doesn't make a sound; it's all too easy to imagine he's not even there, even though, occasionally, a dark strand of hair might brush against your face. What you don't know, however, is that he, at night, while you're fast asleep, he takes the time to watch you up close, lilac eyes tracing over every plane of your face.

“I do not mind sharing the bed with you. I hope you feel similarly. We both are adults, are we not? I doubt this will be an issue. Just lie down.”

NIKOLAI is undoubtedly amused by the idea of sharing a bed with you. He doesn't waste a single thought towards either of you taking the sofa instead; nonsense, just why would you do that? There's a perfectly fine bed right there, and surely both of you are mature enough to share one without any issues, right? Wrong.

He makes a point of being as obnoxious as possible, cuddling close to you the very second you lie down. It doesn't help that he's both tall and strong, his arms closed around your waist so you can't even try to get away or up, and he makes a point of whining whenever you attempt to squirm away. It's going to be a long night.

“What's the matter? Why are you moving so much? Stop it, I won't be able to fall asleep this way. Or — ah, are you trying to rile me up on purpose? That's naughty of you, sweetheart.”

SIGMA immediately makes a beeline for the couch the second he notices the dilemma of having a double bed rather than two separate ones booked. He won't even discuss the topic with you; he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable or forced to sleep on a sofa, so he'll do it instead. There's no whining or guilt tripping from his end; he simply accepts his fate for the night. There's worse things to endure.

If you're incredibly serious about convincing him, however, he might just give in, even though his cheeks feel a little warmer than usual when he lies down next to you, making sure there's an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you. If there's anything he doesn't want, it's you thinking he's trying to be creepy after you've decided to trust him — he probably ends up barely getting any sleep, just because he's worried about accidentally getting too close to you.

“Are you sure you're alright with this? I really don't mind spending the night on the sofa instead. ... Well, if you're sure — thank you.”

NEW POST AGAIN FINALLY AA my commissions are open, by the way!! dm me if interested! 💜

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[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back (2)

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.3k

A/N: Simon's POV of events. Find part 1 here. Part 3 here 18+ nsfw themes

Simon’s not entirely sure what to make of his pretty neighbour who fattens him up with their cooking and has a penchant for bad jokes that might outshine even him. From the moment he’d caught you staring with wide eyes he’d expected wariness, or outright fear, those were the typical responses. He hadn’t expected you to force a tray of pasta bake into his hands and then promptly disappear before he could get a word in. 

It’s a bit ridiculous, but the random act of kindness set his teeth on edge, enough that he’d even suspected foul play briefly. Hunger and logic eventually won out over his paranoia and Simon devoured the tray embarrassingly fast. He’s not quite sure how to face you so he simply leaves the tray outside your door and assumes that will be that. 

Except it’s not. For some reason you’ve taken it upon yourself to feed him, leaving an array of dishes from dinners to snacks. Apart from an initial note inquiring into allergies you adapt his diet on experience, taking note of what he does and doesn’t seem to enjoy. 

He doesn’t know how to get you to stop, nor does he really want you to. Not when he’s become entirely too reliant on you feeding him, eagerly awaiting each new dish with the excitement of a hyperactive toddler. 

Price says he’s got a crush, which is just absurd, the only thing he knows about you is your name. And that your left cheek has a dimple when you smile, and that you love your cat more than anything and that-

He doesn’t have a crush. 

Then the elevator breaks. It breaks with only you and him inside and instead of panicking like he expected, you only seemed mildly annoyed for a few seconds before you turned to him with a conspiratorial grin. “A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and… cola. Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”

Simon’s a little floored and it’s probably only his shock that prevents him from laughing because dammit, that was better than some of his. What shocks him even more is that you aren’t deterred from his silence. If anything, you seem to take it as a personal challenge and your eyes glint in determination. 

It’s both a mixture of the jokes and you’re adorable determination that finally pulls a chuckle from his lips and Simon will forever remember the way your face absolutely lit up at the noise. 

It’s not until he provides a joke of his own before ducking into the safety of his apartment that he briefly thinks Price may have been onto something. He staunchly pushes that thought away but then you start leaving jokes with the food and he has to admit he’s in a little bit of trouble. 

You wrangle his number from him (not that he resisted very hard) and then you wrangle him into your apartment and you make him watch as you flit around your kitchen in order to feed him. 

His next deployment comes at exactly the right time and Simon is prepared to spend the months away getting over you. Except this doesn’t happen because you send him a joke every day without fail, not even deterred when he rarely responds. 

You send a selfie of you and your cat and Simon stares far longer than is appropriate. He’s dreamt of you before, both innocently and not so. For some reason, the distance makes this worse and Simon wakes hard and aching for you more often than not. 

(Johnny walks in on him with his hand in his pants staring at a picture of you once and neither of them can look at each other for days. He thinks this is preferable to the shit-eating grins Johnny throws his way now.)

For the first time in his life, Simon’s desperate to get back from deployment to the empty apartment he barely considers his home. The empty white walls and space not seeming as depressing when he knows you’re waiting for him just across the hall. Waiting to fill the dark void in his chest that grows when he loses access to your smile. 

For the first time in his life, Simon doesn’t want to leave his apartment. Each time Price calls him away from your presence starts to weigh on his soul more and more. It’s getting harder and harder to stop being Simon, to put on the mask and be the Ghost when all he can think about is you. 

It all comes to a head nearly nine months after he'd initially met you. As much as he tries to ignore the way his heart sings in your presence and aches in your absence Simon can’t really deny how he feels about you anymore. 

You pull him from his dangerous train of thoughts when you plop down next to him on the couch. Not exactly a new move in of itself but even then he can’t help the way he shivers at the feel of your arm against his skin. 

If asked Simon wouldn’t be able to tell you a single plot point of the movie you’d put on, not when his mind was running a mile a minute and he was trying not to smell your hair like a creep. 

He tenses a little when you tip against him but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he can’t help but smile softly down at you as he watches you fall deeper and deeper into the clutches of sleep. Awe and adoration in his eyes as one of his hands lightly stroked your cheek, his other arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to his chest. 

You’d wormed your way into his heart months ago with all your stupid jokes and your insistence on looking after him. Not once had you ever asked for anything in return, you even seemed offended at the implication. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to let you in on his feelings, not when every time he left you could end up being his last. Simon had once accidentally caught you crying over your brother, a soldier like him, though not as lucky. Your brother was dead and buried and Simon saw the toll it took on you years later even when you tried to hide it. 

You were the sun. You were light and everything that was good in this world, saw the good in him, and Simon refused to be the potential reason that light was snuffed out. 

He wouldn’t do that to you. But Simon wasn’t completely selfless, so he held you in his arms as he slept, letting himself imagine a life where you could be together. A life where he got to come home to you and your stupid fat cat, his apartment no longer in use and he’d hold you just like this as you slept. 

This wasn’t that life, but Simon still let himself pretend it was, just for a little bit. Because Simon couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved you, was in love with you. And for that, he had to leave before he ruined you.

Tags: @cooliofango @innercollectivecomputer

[chuluoyi]

𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒐 !

- gojo satoru x reader

valentine's is around the corner and word has it that you're going on a date with geto...? no way! gojo is going to make sure that you're saying no! ever wonder how gojo finally gets you to become his? be prepared for a confession of a lifetime!

genre/warnings. crack, semi-failed love confession (it's gojo, what do you expect?), poor geto, and of course, fluff !!

notes. i genuinely love writing this :') loser gojo has always have a soft spot in my heart *sighs* i'd recommend listening to beautiful & because of you - beast (highlight) for this !!

a part of gojo's love entries and valentine's special !

Satoru doesn't really pay attention to holidays. To him, it's all the same—he can turn everyday into a holiday if he wanted to.

However, Valentine's Day is an exception. He knows it and is somewhat excited even. Why, you ask? Because this is the moment he has chosen. He's going to make you his on that very day.

He had everything planned out to perfection: skylit rooftop, bouquet of roses, eloquent speech (at least, he thought so). He was going to charm the pants out of you and it'd be a smooth-sailing event, he was sure of it!

At least until he heard that life-shattering gossip—

"I saw Geto-san asking her out for the 14th just now!"

"What?" he snapped his head in Haibara's direction, who was eagerly sharing with him and the others what he had allegedly heard, his eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

"Ehh, not bad," Shoko mused with a hint of amusement, casting a curious look his way. It was obvious she was enjoying this.

Nanami let out a thoughtful hum. "That's quite a surprise. I didn't think they'll go that fast."

"But how?!" Satoru suddenly exploded, grabbing Haibara by the collar. "How did that slimy bangs go from saying nothing to asking her out?!"

"O-oh Gojo-san! Don't squish me, please!"

And from then onwards, his focus was set: preventing you from falling into Suguru's grimy hands. Absolutely no way! He was so close already. He was on the cusp of winning your heart, and he knew it!

Now, you laughed at his jokes, you didn't ignore him as much, and you even asked him if he was okay after his recent mission! That was huge progress, even Satoru knew as much. And no, even if it was Suguru, he refused to hand you over to him.

On the 14th, you were going to be his... even if it cost him everything!

Gojo Satoru is annoying. You supposed you knew that already, but over these past few days, his ability to get on your nerves somehow had ascended to a wholly new level.

"I'm telling you, you should go with me! I'm going to take you somewhere amazing!" he practically demanded right up in your space, prompting you to let out a long-drawn sigh.

By all means, his attempts to woo you were all lame. He didn't know the first thing about being humble, and logically, you should have been more inclined to push him away.

‘Should’ being the operative word, because, somehow, over the past few weeks, you've started to see his antics as not just bearable but even endearing in a way. No one had ever pursued you with such relentless zeal before him, and it became increasingly difficult to overlook the way your heart fluttered in response to his (occasionally dubious) attempts to win you over.

So, right now, it really wasn't because you were playing hard to get. "Gojo, I've told you already. I can't on that day, I've already got plans," you sighed, exasperated.

He shot you a glance, his expression shifting into a brazenly raised eyebrow. "With Suguru?"

"How do you—"

"Tell him no," Satoru pressed, scowling. "Tell him I asked you first."

"In fact, he asked first—"

“Just say no!”

“No!”

"You're seriously going on a date with him?" he questioned, almost in disbelief. "And what, you're going to confess to him too?"

His tone didn't sit well with you, causing your irritation to rise. You frowned and retorted boldly, "And if I do? It's not like you can do anything about it anyway."

Wait, that actually hurts. Satoru was now irked too. Hadn't he shown enough for you to understand just how much of a big deal it was for him? Didn't you know he actually likes you so much that it made him toss and turn on some nights?

(No, you didn't really know. He just made himself look stupid most of the time. You were not that impressed.)

"As a matter of fact, I can," he began, expression turning into a slight sneer. "I can and I will if you still insist on going with him."

"Wha?"

"I'm going to crash your party so hard, you'll wish you hadn't gone behind my back. The audacity he has, trying to steal my girl!"

"You sound like a creep," you couldn't help blurting out, wide-eyed. "And I'm not your girl—"

"You—are quite heartless." His gaze on you behind that glasses hardened, and you were suddenly taken aback by how upset he looked. "I'm giving you my all—I think about you all day and night I think it's actually making me crazy!"

You stared at him, genuinely dumbfounded this time, realizing that somehow or another now, he was pouring his emotions out.

"Nothing I say will make sense to you, but whatever—" he exhaled sharply in frustration. "It's always you—in my mind. Compared to anyone else now, you're the prettiest. And if you were to ask me to pull a Blue on Ichiji right now, I'd probably do it! You see now—what you have done to me?"

"Ichiji? Gojo—!"

"You might think I did all of this for your attention, and yes, you’re right! That's how much you've messed with my head!"

. . .

Oh, now he had really gone and done it, hadn't he? He had laid it all bare, every last bit of it—the chaotic heap stacking up as his botched confession. And there were no roses, no rooftop, and none of the grandeur he had envisioned. This was so not how he wanted it to go at all.

Satoru grimaced, suddenly regretting this turn of events. He had seen it coming already—you calling him a total weirdo and then leaving him in the dust. Just the thought was enough to make his heart squeeze. Wanting to escape before it became a reality, he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away from you.

He barely made it a few steps away before he felt a firm tug on his arm.

"Wait! Gojo!"

You grabbed his arm tightly, forcing him to turn towards you. Satoru stubbornly refused to meet your gaze, his lips pressed into a massive pout. Yet, beyond that display of defiance, you could discern a hint of heartbreak splashed across his face, and it made your stomach churn.

Always trying to make you look at him. Always trying to get you to smile through his lame jokes. Making himself stupid on purpose. Frustrated when his feelings went unnoticed… All Gojo Satoru did thus far finally added up.

So it's true... he likes me this much...?

In that moment, warmth flooded through you. This idiot. Everyone said he was no good, but your heart couldn't help but leap, and a flurry of butterflies seemed to dance in your stomach.

In this instant, everything seemed to fall into place. Any doubt you might have melted away, leaving only a sense of certainty about your feelings. Everything just feels absolutely right.

"I'm not going on a date with Geto, you know."

"Huh?" Upon hearing that, he swiveled to face you, his gaze intensively searching your face for further explanation.

With a huff, you elaborated, "It's for my Grade One promotion mission. Geto-san asked to join me for it."

"But why? He doesn't need to—"

"He wants to tag along to absorb more cursed spirits, you see..."

"Oh, amassing new little friends, I see," Satoru quipped, face scrunching up distastefully.

His mood seems better now, you noted. You exhaled, your heart suddenly felt like it was pounding louder. "So, you've got the wrong idea. It sucks but my Valentine's day is going to be spent on a mission."

A beat passed by before he finally spoke again, still sheepish and avoiding eye contact. "I'm coming with you too, for that... mission or whatever."

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your face. "And?"

"And... huh?"

"That's all? Nothing else you want to add?"

And suddenly his eyes sparkled back to life. Beyond those ridiculous round glasses, his bright, yet steadfast eyes met yours with such vibrant shine it made your chest thump so hard and face flush with matching intensity.

Silly, silly boy... liking me so much that he turns stupid.

"Actually, I've got plenty more to say!"

With an indignant snort, you released his arm. "Well, I'm waiting. Because what you just said before has to be the most underwhelming confession I've ever heard."

"Wha? Hey! That wasn't my confession! Just you wait, I'll do it over, and this time, I'll make you swoon so hard you'll forget how Suguru's face looks like!"

And on the night of February 14, he truly surpassed himself once again in making a terrible confession, and yet it still signified the day you truly became his—the beginning of your life together, which along the way, would be filled with more shenanigans, endless laughter and of course, love.

Epilogue

"Haibara, I really thought you're the most sensible here! I can't believe you!"

Suguru massaged his temples with utter grievance. So this was the cause of his headache and constant death stares Satoru gave him these past few days—the three people gathering in front of him!

"I've told you already, Nanami—Gojo is really going through with it," Shoko cackled with utter satisfaction. "Now, pay up."

"Ieiri-san... sigh— from now on, I'm not participating in your bets anymore."

Haibara, who went with Shoko's suggestion to incite this, sheepishly laughed. "Ehe, Geto-san, all that ends well is well though, no?"

"Satoru was really about to skin me alive! Ugh, and you almost ruined my date too..."

"Eh? Date?" All three sets of eyes suddenly fixed on him in utter astonishment. "Who?"

-> continue to 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 (with geto suguru—soon!)

[evieelyzabethh]

"chateu"

⭒is it a dream or is it all in the past, i just thought i'd ask"⭒ Arcane characters and comfort {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw☞ slightly pervy jayce, mentions of period sex, a bunch of fluff, that's about it

♞Vi♞

♞Vi's comfort is both physical and verbal. Vi is constantly in awe of you, she can't fathom the idea of you thinking you're less than, too dumb, not pretty enough, not worthy enough. She is also very aware. She's a watcher and a listener. She is very good at getting to the root of the rot, she knows that it's not just this one occurrence, it's a reaction caused by something deeper within you. I feel like Vi is much more emotionally intelligent than a lot of people give her credit for, it's just not knowing how to carry it out.

♞I feel like sometimes, she wouldn't get frustrated, but it would take a bit of a toll on her when you aren't as perceptive as she is. Sometimes it takes a lot of walking through the process to get you to understand what she's telling you. She is more than willing and does praise you until she's blue in the face, but she realizes that sometimes words from an outside source can't fix anything if you don't believe it yourself.

♞This applies to larger problems, but Vi would also be good on occasions if you were simply having a bad day. As someone who's had a bad life, she knows how you feel. You want to be left alone for a bit? She completely understands. You just want a hug? She is there with open arms and immediately chides you the second you try to apologize for getting snot on her jacket.

♞Speaking of which, Vi hugs are one of the most comforting hugs you can ever receive. She's just so warm and big and you are completely surrounded by her as she cradles your head into your chest and hums in your ear. She just has such a calming voice; her presence itself is comforting. I also think she would shed a few tears herself when comforting you. It heals the part of her that couldn't save Powder. She holds a lot of guilt about that, so much so that her comfort to you feels rehearsed, like she's been repeating those reassurances for years.

♞As much as you need comforting, Vi would need her fair share too. She never let go of that big sister/leader persona, she thinks her problems are too small compared to the world around her. She tries to fix her problems with logic to push down her feelings and most definitely is someone who thinks that letting those big feelings out is unproductive. This being said, you don't get a chance to comfort Vi until it becomes too much for even her to handle and she randomly breaks down.

♞Comfort is very foreign to her. The last time she received it consistently and healthily was from Vander and then her life went to shit, and she was thrown in prison for like a decade. Stillwater is not a nurturing environment, Zaun certainly wasn't either, even the comfort she received from Vander was more akin to tough love rather than something softer. She can be soft with you, but she finds it hard to accept it herself. It's a battle for her to just be in your arms and allow you to tell her its ok. She knows it'll be okay because she's gonna fight like hell to make sure it's ok. She hates feeling out of control. She's not used to someone trying to fix things for her; she's not used to someone being there for her.

♞She has a lot of tears to get out. Vi has built high walls of anger, but below that is a chasm of sorrow. When she finally breaks down, it feels like an endless stream of tears until she physically cannot cry anymore and is forced to heave in your arms until she either falls asleep or sits in silence, empty. It's very overwhelming, but she can't deny that when she can catch her breath, she feels brand new.

★Ekko★

★Ekko may not be a doctor, but he's a chef which makes the experience more than bearable. The second he sees your complexion get sickly, your wincing every time you move, and your coughs getting more and more phlegmy, he is immediately freaking out. He's running to get a thermometer, he's rifling through the medicine cabinet for whatever the canon equivalent of NyQuil is, he has a trash can set by the bedside in case you begin to feel nauseous.

★Despite his preparedness, I don't think Ekko is great at being sick or being around the sick. It feels like an utter waste of time, waiting around in the house for the illness to pass. Sickness is one of those issues you can't be active in fighting, the best action is to rest and sweat it out, and he is so antsy. It's a lot better if you're sick, you can't lie to him and try to pretend you're well when you aren't. Even if you try and fight him on it, you don't make it very far. Your achy joints keep you up at night, making you completely exhausted throughout the day. Your headache is so debilitating you have spots in your vision. Your throat is so sore, it physically pains you to argue with him about how you're totally not sick and he's being a complete mother hen.

★No; no matter how hard you protest, you are absolutely bed bound as Ekko works warm soup down your gullet even when you can't stomach it yourself but the rational part of you knows it'll make you feel better. The warm green tea he brings you has some tonic dissolved into it; the medicinal taste covered by a few tablespoons of sugar to avoid the bitter bite. He doesn't even flinch when you cough or sneeze into yet another tissue which is soon to be added to the growing pile in the trash. He only wraps you tighter, so you sweat out your fever faster while softly rubbing your aching shoulders. The thought of getting sick does cross his mind, but he's more preoccupied with his poor girl.

★A surprise to no one, Ekko gets sick right after you do, though he is far less compliant. He knows that you see right through his bullshit excuses. Babe, I don't have a fever, I always run hot. What do you mean I have a bad cough? I've just been clearing my throat. I don't get sick; I have too good of an immune system. I never been sick a day in my life. Even worse, he truly believes it himself. In truth, Ekko isn't someone who gets sick often, it's usually one bad bug every year or so. When he does get sick, it usually lasts a few weeks, the first being very mild and then eventually whittling him down to a bed-bound state.

★His bug only worsens the annoyance he feels when sick, you're almost glad when he loses the energy to argue back when you tell him to lie down. When Ekko's sick, it feels more like date nights than a hospital trip. Ekko can't stand silence or boredom which means a movie is playing for as long as he's bed bound. Aside from his mucous infested coughs, his constant shuddering through multiple layers of blankets, and a bowl of soup instead of popcorn; you could barely tell that this wasn't a movie date.

★If there is one thing Ekko enjoys about being sick, it's being taken care of. After he swallows his pride and that disgusting cough medicine, he can appreciate being doted on. Even though he's sick, he'll use a fake yawn as an excuse to wrap his arm around you and ask do you come 'round here often? His joking attitude is usually a good sign that his weeks in hell have finally passed and the light at the end of the tunnel (post sickness kisses) are finally on the table.

❂Jayce ❂

❂Someone once made a joke that Jayce would be the type to make a post on twitter like "I just found out about how bad period pain is. Can't believe our beautiful women go through that every month. If only I could go through periods for them, so they no longer have to suffer (I'm 6'7 btw)" and, well...yes! On a more serious note, I don't think he'd be the type to be super on top of it. He's too busy to have something like a calendar tracking it, though when the time comes, he's very quick to act. While he may be unprepared, he's not incompetent.

❂As soon as you tell him you started, he switches the light bed sheets to darker ones. All he needs is a list of your needs, your preference on pads or tampons or menstrual cups, if you wear them, what size pad you need, heating pads, pain meds, anything and everything you may need is currently being bought. He also isn't the type to be ashamed to go to the register with it, he truly does not think it's a big deal and is confused at any sort of weird stares he gets.

❂He is also over cautious. The second you look like a little woozy, he's right by your side asking if you need to sit down. He's standing around the bathroom while you shower genuinely scared you might pass out due to the amount of blood loss. I don't think he's squeamish around blood, but I do think he'd constantly worry that it's too much. Like how are you still alive after bleeding that much for like a week straight 12 times a year?! He thinks the female body is a scientific wonder.

❂He's also great when it comes to the emotional component. The second your hormones get out of whack, and you start to think too hard about your bloating or ragged you look or how weak you feel, he's right there with a large warm hand on your tummy telling you that you are being ridiculous. His very scientific brain comes in handy, something about his calming voice telling you exactly what your body is doing sounds enough like a documentary to put you to sleep.

❂If you work in the lab with him, he offers to let you skip work for the week, being completely surprised if you insist on still coming in. He does his best to accommodate you, going the extra mile to pack your lunch and making you sure you eat it, ensuring that you're staying on top of your water, he brings pain killers with him in case your cramps get too bad. You and Viktor roll your eyes a bit at his antics. You try to assure him you've had a period for years at this point and it's really not that big of a deal, but he insists on it anyway. All he knows is that you're in pain and he doesn't like that.

❂Now, pre-apocalypse Jayce does not do period sex. You're already hurting, and he while he read that sex can help with cramps, he also knows you're super sensitive and that stretch is going to hurt even worse. If you asked, he'd oblige, making sure to be extra soft and gentle, only pushing half-way in as he coos and brushes the hot tears from your eyes. Post-apocalypse Jayce is far less careful. I wouldn't say he doesn't care, but he understands the concept of a little bit of pain for a lot of pleasure. He's still sweet, carefully covering your sheets with layers of towels and folding a couple under your hips, but his strokes could convince you he's trying to fuck your period away. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel better after, though.

☽Viktor☾

☽Viktor is not one to beat around the bush at all; he never even liked the man to begin with. It started with something small, like the lack of effort he put into dates or forgetting your birthday, and ever since then things just snowballed until every offense was break-up worthy to him. He didn't hold the door open? Break up with him. He was a bit too flirty with the waitress when you went out to eat? Break up with him! You caught him talking to his ex? BREAK UP WITH HIM!

☽Before the breakup, he is not soft about it at all. The first few gossip sessions were all fun and games but the more you talked about him, the more his dislike grows until he hates the guy and he's only physically seen him a couple times. He refuses to even be in the same room as the man, he says it's because the mere thought of him literally makes him sick and he's sure seeing his actual face will genuinely kill him.

☽He doesn't know what you see in him, and neither do you after the fact. Hindsight really is 20/20. Viktor truly isn't that great with comfort until he sees how seriously upset you are. You're crying over a tub of ice cream with a rom com playing in the background as you blubber about how all of your relationships fall apart and you just don't know where you went wrong, and he's truly confounded on how you're this upset over a toad.

☽This all being said, he's very supportive. It's a lot of work to swallow his sarcastic remarks and roll his eyes less, but the sincerity of his comfort is very easy. It's not instinctual for him to sit there while you cry in his arms, but the kind words he murmurs, you deserve better than that, you deserve a love greater than you even ask for, you deserve even more than the world, you deserve the better world he wants to create. And he doesn't want to sound smarmy or jealous, like some loser who was waiting in the wings for the breakup even Jayce saw coming from a mile away, but if he cared less about what you thought of him; he'd say you deserve him.

☽He realizes it's much too soon, so he buys you ice cream and tells you that you look pretty even when your mascara is running, and your hair is in a state of disarray, and he genuinely means it. He's most valuable for his honesty, it's why you came to Viktor in the first place. He was always honest about how he felt about your ex, even when he was holding his tongue, his expression said all the words he was too nice to say. So, when he tells you that yes, you're still pretty, he may be holding back.

☽It helps that he's funny and can be a tad impulsive. You want to slash his tires? Only slash 3 so that his insurance doesn't cover it. You wanna burn his clothes? He'll make you a pocket flamethrower just to do so. Even better than being open to violence and destruction, he's great at not getting caught. Though he doesn't believe in lying to you, dishonesty drips from his lips like honey.

☽When the crying and the disappointment fades and you feel good enough to joke about how you wasted too much of your time on a man outrunning wisdom, Viktor does slowly try to show you exactly what you deserve.

☼Mel☼

☼While Mel knows the importance of the exterior, she thinks its utterly ridiculous that you can think you aren't pretty enough. She knows insecurities are hard. 'The grass is greener on the other side' really isn't the comfort most people think it is. Sometimes it's well worth it to face the consequences of achieving what you've wanted. Whatever it is, acne, being flat chested, noticeable scars, being different is just hard. It doesn't matter how much your differences make you unique, it really is easier to be like everyone else.

☼She tells you every chance she gets how beautiful she thinks you are. To pretend that inside beauty is all that matters is simply a lie, she interacts daily with people whose heads are full of air, but people only respect them because they are a pretty face with full pockets. She knows it sounds untrue to you, but that's why she tells you so often. Not in despite of anything, not because of anything, you're just stunning.

☼Since you're already hyper-focused on your insecurity, I think she'd ignore it. Honestly, she doesn't think of it at all. It's about as noticeable to her as the color of your eyes or how tall you are, it's a miniscule detail that doesn't define you, it's just another feature. It's nothing important to her, and she wishes it didn't bother you.

☼While you are all adults, she knows that some lack the decorum necessary to not make their judgements known and it bothers her deeply. Anytime anyone speaks on it, she rolls her eyes. She thoroughly thinks it's beneath you to be bothered by it. Not only is it low-hanging fruit, but it's a sign of deficient intellect. They couldn't insult your intelligence, your competence, or anything about you that actually mattered, they had to go for your appearance, and she will tell them as such. She is very good at her professional insults.

☼As much as she compliments you, she emphasizes your other traits. If you're a writer, an artist, a dancer, any skill you have that you built for years or any talent you were just born with, she dedicates a lot of time to participating and validating it at any chance she gets. She wants you to take pride in something else, something that no one can take from you. Looks fade throughout the years, everyone is eventually going to be cast aside as their hairs grey and their teeth start to fall out. Knowledge never grows obsolete. Besides, people with legitimate interests and hobbies are too busy doing things they enjoy ruminating on how they look.

☼She knows it isn't what you want to hear, but it is what you need to hear sometimes. You are perfect just the way you are. She has never had any desire or want to change you. She has never imagined you any other way than the way you are. She doesn't want anyone who looks different than you, she doesn't want you because of the way you look. Of course, she thinks you're beautiful, but that doesn't matter to her. Never has and it never will. Just as she has faith that you aren't with her for how she looks, she hopes you have faith that you looks are not a determining factor for why she's with you. You are just you and she wouldn't want you any other way.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hellooo!! literally love your works, can i have ‘Banana & Chocolate muffins’ ‘Red velvet cupcakes’ and ‘mince pie’ with a side of ‘bubble tea’ for either Carlos Sainz or Toto Wolff!

Love your works btw! absolutely loving the bakery!🫶🫶❤️

bakery menu

want to submit an order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of items to choose from and i hope you find something that you like! i love going through these requests and ya'll are some hungry rabbits! so thank you! and enjoy! for this one i chose toto wolff (because i am a slut for toto wolff), but if you really want a carlos fic, feel free to submit another order! thank you and enjoy!!

banana & chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + red velvet cupcakes ("if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one.") + mince pie ("i'm not jealous.") + bubble tea (daddy kink) served by toto wolff (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, jealous!toto, age gap (20s/50s), daddy kink, daddy dom relationship, mean!toto, dirty talk/degrading language, wife!reader

jealousy was an ugly thing. toto wolff thought he was too old to be jealous. after everything he had and had done, there was no need to be jealous. he was a powerful in the world of formula one, most men would kill, lie and steal for power he had.

so why be jealous anything? most were jealous of him. for his status, his accomplishments, his looks. even into his fifties he could make a young buck feel envy. he even had the prettiest little wife in the entire world. nothing should be toto wolff jealous.

but jealousy doesn't run on logic does it?

you had taken a keen interest in formula one after you got married to toto. you thought it was important that you understood on a deeper level. this was your husband's entire world! of course you should be at least a little interested in what the world was about!

but it felt so silly asking questions to your husband. especially when you asked the same questions a few times over (the sport was a little confusing... what do you mean there are four kinds of tires? and what did they all do again?). so you confided in one of your husband's best drivers, george. it also helped that you two were closer in age.

"toto is looking at us." george said as you sat with him before the race. the rest of mercedes was bustling around you two, but you could clearly see your husband. it didn't help that he was often a head taller than most.

you smiled and waved at him, "he's probably checking in on you. you have to start racing soon."

george wasn't too sure. he looked at his boss before he looked back at you, "usually he doesn't look at me like a disappointment father..." he didn't want to think too hard about the age gap between you and toto. he thought you were nice and liked you and he liked working under toto, so he didn't want to get involved.

toto came over and sat down beside you, leaving you in between him and george. he stretched an arm across the back of the couch you were all on and crossed one leg over the other.

he leaned into your personal space like he owned it, but instead of looking at his wife. he looked at his driver, "you're on soon. head to the garage."

george knew when it was time to high tail it. he wasn't a dense man. he nodded and got up. he looked at you, "i'll see you after."

you waved as you leaned up against your larger husband, "good luck! win for us today!" then gave a smile that would make the sun jealous. just like your husband was jealous of george occupying your attention.

once he was out of sight, you turned to toto and placed a manicured hand on his chest and leaned up to him. you maintained eye contact, "i was having an engaging conversation."

toto gave a short chuckle then leaned into your ear. his presence was overwhelming. the warmth and smell of him overtook your senses. you clutched onto him as he spoke in your ear, "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them." the daddy-little dynamic you started with never truly went away with marriage.

you cheeks felt warm as you looked at him, "daddy..." testing the waters of what this could mean. were you dealing with the daddy dom you dealt with for years or the husband you had been married to for a few months now.

he leaned in and rubbed his thumb against your cheek. the calloused pad of his thumb made you run a little hotter. oh, he was jealous. maybe getting involved with an older man who had a jealous streak like the grey in his hair, but you couldn't help but grow a little hotter. even in front of all these people.

in fairness, when people saw the both of you together. the age difference, the size difference, the differences in aesthetics. it was very obvious that he took a more leading role in the relationship. and you with that shiny pink lip gloss and fluttering eyelashes were just happy to be there.

so toto's large hand on your thigh made it appear small as he said, "you're always so good for me, schatzi. my perfect wife. don't make me worried."

you giggled, "i was right. you are jealous."

he simply replied, "i'm not jealous." and you knew that tonight in the hotel room was going to be interesting. you watched him get up, even making a small grunting noise either due to the dull ache in his knee or the hard on in his pants.

during the race, you sat pretty in the back. your curious eyes scanned the screens as hamilton and russell fought their way across the track. there was a lot you needed to know. and while you couldn't see your husband's face from the desk he was seated at. you could feel the tension in your shoulders.

while you were terrible at racing, you were good at one thing. making your beloved toto feel all better after a race. you left the track early, claiming to have a migraine but told toto's assistant to not tell your husband till after the race. you didn't need him to worry more, especially since your migraine was an excuse to go back to the hotel. even though your husband could be a green eyed monster, you still wanted him to feel better.

so one bottle of wine later and a soft pair of panties and sports bra later. you were waiting in the bedroom on your phone for your lover. when the hotel room door opened, you sat up in bed and scooted down to the foot where you sat there waiting for him.

the planes of your body on full display as you heard his heavy footsteps. his voice called out in the room, "schatzi?"

"in the bedroom, daddy!" you chirped.

you heard him get his shoes off and drop his bags. he then headed towards the bedroom. he opened the door fully and drank in the sight of you. while you thought it would've eased his jealousy a little bit, or at least the stress of the race. it only fueled it in his gut.

"where's your ring, schatzi?" he asked.

you perked up, "on the nightstand! i didn't want to lose it in bed or something happen to it!" even though it didn't have the biggest diamond in the world (per your request), you still held immense value to it.

he simply said, "put it on. you're my wife after all." his voice domineering and it made heat pool in your gut as you watched him get undressed. he watched your swallow as you got his slacks off.

you nodded, "yes daddy." then climbed up the bed on your hands and knees to grab it off the nightstand. and while you thought that you'd be in that position for a few moments. the weight of your over six foot tall husband left you pinned on the bed like that.

at least your ring was still on.

"whore." he said, as he rubbed his barely clothed cock up against the curve of your ass, "i see how they look at you. my employees drooling like dogs because you're on the track." he pressed into you further, "dirty, dirty."

you swallowed, face pressed into the covers, "i'm not a whore." you tried to defend yourself. but that was a hard case to make when your pussy was slick and a man much large and much older had you pinned down on the bed.

"if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one." he said, words like venom and it made your heart skip a bear. he got his briefs off and left nude before he started to undress what little you had on.

you squirmed a bit to help him get the panties off and let him rub his hard cock up against your wet pussy. you felt your cheeks heat up as you laid under him. and you yelped when he groped at your ass cheek.

"see, this is how i like you, angel." he said with a kiss against your temple, "you can be a good girl for me. you know i love you." he felt you shift under him as he placed another kiss against you. your pulse quickened on his lips as he sank his cock into your sweet, messy hole.

you felt good, as always, around him. even when he hand his hands tightly on you and his weight keeping your pinned to the bed. he moved against you. he could hear your sweet moans. you always made the cutest noises, especially when you pouted between moans. he knew you were pouting against the pillow as he fucked you.

it was the kind of fuck that got the envy out. reminded you who your husband was and that it sated the monster in toto's mind that you weren't going anywhere. how could you'd have the scent of cum and sex on your skin. everyone would know who toto was.

he loomed over you as he moved against you. his pace was fast and his thrusts were hard. it made your back arched, you could feel your heartbeat in your cunt as he fucked against you.

"pretty little treasure." he panted as he leaned in to kiss you on your neck. he loved the feeling of you in his arms. he groaned against your skin.

you replied, "toto, please. daddy. i love you." there was a whine in your tone as your hips lifted a little higher. you squeezed your eyes as you panted heavily into the covers.

"i love you too." he responded. his voice was honey in your mind. he heard you moan into the covers. it excited him. it made him feel hotter as he moved against you. you were his precious in his eyes, even when you made him jealous.

he may be green with envy, but it was to let the green eyed monster talk when he was so deep inside of you. when he rubbed up against some of your best parts. the parts that made you curl up and moan.

and when you said you loved him. it drove him crazy.

he panted heavily against you, paired with your loud moans. even when you whimpered daddy, it all went to his cock. you were a live wire, treasure.

you were running hot and your pants were heavy against the covers. you felt your orgasm stir in your gut. your heart hammered in your chest. sating the envy with your slick cunt.

he came first and stayed on top of you. even though he came, he was still hard. his thrusts continued and came quickly a second time because of the over stimulation and heat in his body before you came as well. your orgasm made him pant heavily into your ear. he left wet kisses on the shell as he rutted against you as you rode out your orgasm.

with two loads of cum deep in your sweet pussy, he didn't need to worry about you running off with someone else. and thus, the jealousy was settled in his brain. he laid out beside you and pulled you into his arms. his slick cock up against your back.

you were both a heated, panting mess as you felt the after shivers of climax. your brain felt fried as you laid out beside him. you loved the feeling and melted into your husband's touch.

"mm. daddy." you said.

he kissed the apple of your cheek and replied, yes, schatzi."

you yawned and turned over to bury your face in his chest. you held onto him as you said softly, "you're a jealous old man." <3

[qqueenofhades]

I would like to... gently shake the people going 'Dick Cheney/Alberto Gonzalez/[insert neoconservative architect here] endorsing Harris is entirely and only a bad look for Harris' because that's not the point. And like, I get feeling weird about it (I've been unimpressed with Dick's backpedaling since Liz Cheney got primaried), but: Trump is proving too extreme for THE PEOPLE WHO MADE HIM POSSIBLE. This is their consequences. THAT'S the point.

Look, this is what I think about it: I fucking hate Dick Cheney and all the architects of the Bush Junior neoconservatism-early-aughts-War-on-Terror-Patriot-Act-No-Child-Left-Behinding Republican Party that laid the groundwork for the Tea Party and then for Trump. If there was any justice in the world, Dubya would be at the Hague for a war crimes tribunal and not allowed to sit in Texas painting dogs and enjoying a quiet retirement. But he was fortunate to be the president of the most powerful country in the world, and America doesn't obey international law unless it feels like it, so that's what we get. (And yes, someone asked Dubya if he was going to endorse in 2024, following Cheney, and was told, no doubt with much pious handwringing, that "President Bush retired from presidential politics many years ago." But he's still raising money for MAGA Senate candidates in Pennsylvania, evidently. Fuck you, George W. Bush. Kids these days don't say it enough.)

However, since literally the entire pre-Trump establishment Republican party is now deciding that Trump is too insane, fascist, and dangerous even for them, I'm not surprised but still annoyed that Online Leftist Logic (TM) has translated that to "Harris must secretly be an early-noughties hard-right neocon Republican and that's why they want to vote for her!!!" Most if not all of them have said that they openly disagree with her policies but are voting for her anyway because she is the only way to maintain American constitutional democracy. And yes, we're all shocked that DICK FUCKING CHENEY, architect of the Iraq War and the Patriot Act, felt that there was in fact a line of fascist government overreach that he wasn't willing to cross, but if that's the case -- if even these completely terrible warmongering corporate assholes are like "uh Trump is too bad even for us to support," then you should, I don't know, maybe listen to that. But as ever, I search for logic in vain.

Likewise: Harris has made zero policy concessions to these Republicans and she never went fishing for Cheney's endorsement specifically. She didn't suddenly declare Iraq a totally okay and normal thing in order to get Cheney and his warhawks on board, and yes, Old Dickhead probably has no small amount of personal motive to get back at Trump considering what he did to Liz. But that's the thing where apparently political motives should only ever be pure, moral, and Perfect, and taking the right action for the "wrong" reasons is still disqualifying because you weren't thinking enough pure moral thoughts while you did it, or something. I don't give a fuck why Cheney decided to vote for Harris, because I don't respect his opinion and can't foresee myself ever doing so. But because we are in an unprecedented historical moment where even DICK GODDAMN CHENEY thinks that Donald Trump is too dangerous to ever have power again, I will thank him for doing that and that alone and then tell him to hit the f'n road if he thinks he deserves a scrap of credit or Democratic policy concessions for it. He doesn't. He sucks. But he's still making a choice that we need to see made at this moment, and people who don't get that, as usual, can STFU.

Basically: Cheney's endorsement is not directed at you, and it's not intended to move voters who already fit your profile and therefore think, like I do, that Cheney can eat shit. It's directed to all the career-Republican-politician types who can see him doing that and decide that they can do the same thing. Hell, we just had 17 former staffers of Ronald Reagan announcing their Harris endorsement (in addition to the 200+ Bush, McCain, Romney alumni who already signed on and all the ex-Trump officials at the DNC) and going so far as to insist that Ol' Ronnie Raygun himself would have supported Harris. Now look. I hate Ronald Reagan more than any other twentieth-century president. The degree to which he ALSO laid the groundwork for incredible damage to America cannot be overstated. But because I am not an idiot, I can see that this does not mean Harris has suddenly turned into Reagan in her policies. So. Yeah.

The other thing to note here is that Harris has seen the advantage in cultivating a bipartisan coalition and making a cross-party case for voting her to preserve American democracy. Now, a lot of the Republicans have said that they are going to stay Republicans and they want to purge their party of Trump and MAGAism, they are trying to buy time for that transition to happen by voting for Harris, and while I have never voted for or agreed with a Republican in my whole life, I actually think that's a good thing! I don't WANT to fear the end of American democracy every four years because the Republican Party has become a screaming shitgibboning insane vehicle of American Gilead while inciting stochastic terrorism against Springfield, Ohio and everyone else who doesn't bow down to Trumpist Dear Leader and his KKK alt-right Elon Muskified supporters! I don't WANT this howling fascist conspiracy-theory-puppet-of-Vladimir-Putin black hole of violence to be just what we have to accept as the center-right (except you know, now far-far-far-far-can't-see-it-with-a-telescope-right) party in America! I would prefer it if we had a functioning democracy again where both parties were engaging in fair competitiveness and good faith and had the basic premise of making people's lives better, even if they disagreed about how to do it! I would REALLY like it if we could go back to the days of disagreeing about taxes and foreign policy and social welfare -- you know, NORMAL THINGS -- instead of Commander Vance and the Project 2025 foot soldiers trying to install a theocratic fascist dictatorship! I WOULD LIKE THAT A WHOLE LOT!

That said: I have pretty much reached my limit with asking people to vote. I have done it for 8+ years (since before Trump was elected the first time) and I'm done. Either you know the stakes of this election at this point, or you're so blindly and stupidly committed to misunderstanding them that there's nothing I or anyone else can possibly do to convince you. I still see people posting a lot of stuff from the bad-faith anti-democratic leftist cranks and arguing with them endlessly and... why? Why? Why are you giving them the oxygen and exposure that they crave, and which is giving them more attention than anyone else is giving them? Block them. Mute them. STOP ENGAGING WITH EVERYTHING THEY SAY EVEN IF YOU'RE TRYING TO REFUTE IT. It's not going to work, and at this point, it's not remotely conducive to winning this election. The Great Myth of the Undecided Voter (TM) is another one that, I hope, can finally bite the dust, and the actual undecided voters who are out there are not the ones posting dirtbag leftist bullshit about Harris on The Website Formerly Known as Twitter. This election is now completely down to a numbers game: who can make their identified voters turn out to vote. So please. Spend your time and energy on reaching those folks, who might want to or have said they will vote but need a push or extra help to make sure they do.

That being the case, if lifelong Republicans want to vote for Harris and help defeat a Trump dictatorship, they're actually being more helpful for the cause of American democracy than every single shrieking Online Leftist out there, and maybe they should think about that. I'm amused at how they still think they can make demands of the Democrats, because -- when your entire plan from the word go has been "I'm not voting for the Democrats and there's nothing you can do to make me!!!" -- why are you surprised that they don't take your thoughts and opinions into account? That's the basic simplest Democracy 101 version of how electoral politics works. If you have removed yourself from their voter pool and laugh and scoff at any suggestion that you should enter it, then they're not gonna listen to you or think that they should make policy to appease you (which is good, because most of these people are fucking nuts). That's why they're blowing a gasket disowning AOC, still one of the most left-wing members in the House, because she wants to actually win and make real changes in society and has reached a happy-ish marriage with the Democratic party, instead of virtuously losing her seat and becoming irrelevant like some other members of the Squad who got primaried out this year. And the Democrats have accepted many of AOC's views as mainstream policy! She didn't change, but she stayed in the party and worked with it, and the party as a whole is moving to where she was all along. But because any hint of compromise or working to get results, rather than just posting self-righteous screeds on the internet, is Bad, she had to go, I guess. Or something.

Anyway. That's the that on that. If you want to win this election, target and talk to the people who have already identified themselves as likely or possible voters, they just need that extra push to become definite voters. I'm over the anti-democratic hypocritical leftist cranks as much as I am the screaming shitgibboning racist-mob-inciting fascists. If it takes some Republicans gritting their teeth and getting on board the "let's save American democracy" boat with me, then fine. They're actually willing to do the smallest tiny thing to make that outcome come about, and that means, for right now, they are the enemy of my enemy and I'll accept their help. After that, I would in fact like it if we had a sane center-right party again, once Trump is in jail and we can fumigate the MAGA rot. It's up to them.

[allllium]

Destructive

Vampire!Jason x Reader

~ Mostly fluff, Jason is very stubborn, WC: 1,083

You sit in silence on the couch, the opposite end of Jason instead of by his side like usual.

Neither of you have talked in at least an hour.

You can clearly see he's in pain but until he finally admits how he feels, there's nothing you're gonna do about it.

According to all the books and movies about vampires they're supposed to be scary but all you've seen is how childish they act when they're hungry.

There's a quiet chatter coming from the show on the TV, the one neither of you are paying any attention to.

"You're literally starving to death, is now really the best time to be so stubborn?" You break the silence.

"I have no idea what you mean." He crosses his arms over his chest and turns to focus on the TV.

You stare blankly at him.

"You are aware you just completely proved my point, right?"

"No." He mumbles under his breath.

"No? Will you please look at me while I'm lecturing you."

With an overly dramatic groan he looks in your direction.

"I said I'm fine."

"Okay? Am I supposed to believe you?"

"I mean I was hoping you would." You keep staring at him with a blank face, fighting a small urge to smile at the whiny tone in his voice.

"Maybe try that again when you're not dying."

"I'm not dying." You roll your eyes immediately.

"Ohh okay I must have misunderstood earlier when you said you haven't had any blood in a week."

"Clearly."

"So if I decided I wanted to sit closer to you that wouldn't affect you at all." You stand and go towards the side of the couch he's sitting on.

"No, not at all." He clears his throat as you sit right next to him, arms and legs resting against his.

"This is good then right? No urge to bite me or anything?" You lean your head on his shoulder to further prove your point. You feel him try to lean away from you but the arm of the couch stops him.

"Do you have a death wish?" He exclaims and jumps from the couch.

"There's no danger if you're not starving, huh Jason!" You jump up right beside him.

"You are not seriously having fun right now!" He yells, noting the smile on your face

You quickly bite your inner lip to cease your smile. "No I would never."

"I am dying and you think this is funny." He fakes offence, a familiar smile making an appearance.

"Oh so you finally admit it."

"Yes but it doesn't change anything." He starts walking to the kitchen.

"It changes everything!" You raise your voice so he can hear you from the next room. "As I said I'm always right!"

"Wrong!"

You follow him into the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Getting away from you." He half jokes.

"What's more dangerous, Jason? Drinking some of my blood to stop you from starving? Or not drinking anything and losing control which could end up with me dead?" You ask casually and lean against the doorway to the kitchen.

"That's exactly why I try to stop this from happening."

"I know honey. But this is reality and you can't just hide something until it goes away."

You walk closer to him until you can hold his hands in yours.

"I know you get scared but the more you try to deny it, the more dangerous it'll be."

"The only thing worse than losing you is hurting you."

"Well good thing neither or those things are going to happen. I trust you Jay, why don't you trust yourself?"

"Stop being so logical." He whispers and pulls you into a soft hug. "It's making it harder to be so stubborn."

"I don't want to lose you just as much as you don't want to lose me."

"That's hard to believe."

"Too bad." You laugh and feel his breathless chuckle against you. "Please don't keep starving."

"Okay." He nods against you, "That sounds like a good plan."

"Great so how are we gonna fix this?" You pull back so you're face to face.

"Steal some blood from a hospital."

"No, Jason-"

"Find a random person on the street."

"Jason-"

"The black market."

"What the fuck." You put your face in your hands.

"I'm sure I can think of a few others."

"I thought we just discussed this."

"No."

"Jason, stop being stubborn. We're done with this."

"Why are you insisting on this so much?"

"Because I'm sick of you spending weeks feeling terrible because you don't have access to blood. I'm sick of you being so hungry you avoid me." You take a step back.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't need you to be sorry, I just need you to listen to me."

"You're right." You watch him carefully for his next move.

After sitting in silence for a couple minutes you sigh.

"I'm sorry I'm nervous." He finally blurts out.

"Are you having performance anxiety or something?"

"I do not need your bullying right now."

"You're right I'm sorry." You smile widely.

"You don't look sorry."

"Focus."

He pulls you closer to him, close enough that you can feel his breath on your neck. Once again, nothing happens.

"This is getting awkward." You complain. You move your arms to wrap around his neck and he grabs your waist to pull you closer.

He smiles against your neck a split second before he bites you.

He's warned you many times that a vampire bite is very painful but after a small pinch the only noticeable thing is how lightheaded you become. Most likely to keep victims from being able to run.

Time slows as he takes your blood and after a minute or two you lose some balance, but Jason wraps his arm around you to keep you standing.

"Thank you." He says as he pulls away from your neck.

"Anytime." You whisper.

"Are you okay?" He almost panics when he sees you're having trouble keeping balance.

"I'm fine, as long as you don't let go of me or anything."

"Here, sit down." He picks you up and makes you sit on the counter. "I'm gonna make you some dinner."

"I'm alright, give me a minute and I'll be back to normal."

"No, be quiet." He pulls some ingredients out of the fridge.

"I love you." You smile as he cooks for you.

"I know my cooking is good but that's a little extreme."

"Jason!"

"I love you too."

[maeumi-jng]

can't stop me.

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

synopsis: when they tell you they like you and you respond with "can't you stop?" because you're scared to be in a relationship.

warnings: fluff, angsty-ish?, poor humour, skinship

library: enhypen bookshelf

author's note: i got this idea after reading a dialogue prompt and i thought it would work in the world of idols!

heeseung

can't tell if he's dreaming or not– he blinked at you, unable to decipher reality. his eyebrows are scrunched while an incredulous expression falls overs his face. "what do you mean, 'can't you stop?'" this was ludicrous. the strangest thing he had ever heard.

you gave him a pointed look. "you know what i mean."

heeseung poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "of course, i can't stop." what a stupid thing of you to say. any hope he had was deflating. his shoulders were slumped and his happy demeanour was fading. he folds his arms before taking a deep breath. "why would i want to stop? i like you. a lot. i don't think i would ever want to stop."

jeez, okay, poet heeseung. "b-but what about your company? your fans?" you asked nervously.

he tilted his head and let out a sigh of relief. he thought you were meaning something else entirely. he stretched his arms and brought them around you, enveloping you into a warm, comforting hug. "real fans will love you. and as for the company, i'll make sure they protect you, okay? no one will invade you or your life, i promise."

your heart warmed at his words. he cared... so much. you held him tighter, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "i love you, hee."

"i love you too, sweetheart."

jongseong

he's the only logical and calm member– he would be like, "okay."

and you would blinked, taken aback. because like what? you weren't expecting the response. you were just trying to offset his feelings because dating someone like jay, as amazing it could be, was a huge risk and step for you. but this was... what you wanted right?

you twiddled your fingers, nodding slowly. "okay then..." you awkwardly said.

to your shock, jay grabbed your hands gently and met your eyes earnestly. "if that's what you want, then i'll respect that. but if it's because you're scared, then i promise i'll do whatever it takes and however long it takes to make you feel safe."

you widened your eyes at his words, feeling small tears line your waterline. how on earth had you been so lucky to meet him out of all the people in the world... you will never know. but you couldn't let the conversation end like this. "jay..." you called softly.

jay hummed in response, mind already busy with what he needs to do.

"i really really like you too," you confessed.

jay paused his pondering. he couldn't believe his ears. you had given it a chance. a wide smile finally spread onto his face and for a moment, all the worry in the world had disappeared into the air. he squeezed your hand after bringing a small kiss to the back of it.

in the end.... a respectful king.

jaeyun

this man is already so clingy. hearing something like this would break his heart! :(

jake wouldn't even understand what you mean and would just get clingier. his eyes would be round with worry and searching your own, his hands would already be out to reach yours. "i... i–what you do you mean? i can't just stop. not when i like you so much. did i," he cleared his throat, "did i do something, perhaps? just tell me and i'll fix it."

you chewed your lip nervously. he was already breaking all the walls you had built up for this conversation. "jake," you whined softly, swinging his hands. "you're making this really hard."

"making what hard, sweetheart? what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" jake queried gently, tucking a tress behind your hair.

christ.

"i'm terrified," you blurted. you took in a sharp breath upon seeing a bit of confusion enter jake's puppy browns. still playing with his fingers, "i just... it's going to be so difficult. us i mean. you're you and i... i'm me. we're so different and the world–"

finally it clicked for jake.

"oh baby," he cooed, bringing you into a tight hug. as he rubbed your back gently, he said, "even if the world was against us, i would be happy that it's you and me in the end. we'll get through anything if it comes up... together, hmm?"

soft cries in the audience for jake ♡︎

sunghoon

bro, if jake didn't understand, this guy is the definition of not understanding.

not only did sunghoon not get it, he refused your answer! "no. i can't stop and i won't. i don't care," he said with the most indifferent tone.

all your worry is put on hold for a brief moment. you blankly look at him. "i... what?" it was all you could say after being so dumbfounded.

"why? why do you want me to stop?" sunghoon asked, hands resting on his hip.

you sucked in a sharp breath. you didn't like where this conversation was going. sunghoon was beginning to sound like your mother and you were slowly slipping into trouble. your eyes darted around your surroundings. "uh, because i don't like you...?"

now sunghoon is like ????????? what's with the question mark at the end?

sunghoon raised a brow, putting his hands on either side of your arms. he looked you dead in the eye. "okay... now tell me that while looking me in the eye."

oh... fuck.

you forcefully planted your eyes onto his. "i... i don't like you," you affirmed with a small nod to hopefully get sunghoon to buy your poorly made lie.

sunghoon was now the one with a blank expression. "you know when you lie, you chew your cheek? you've done it twice now. and you won't me to believe you?"

"sunghoon!" you cried out of frustration. "stop making this harder than it needs to be!"

"that's on you, not me," sunghoon shrugged. you were officially considering smacking him in the head.

"oh my god... do you even really like me, you big phony?" you queried incredulously.

sunghoon dropped his antics and sent you a genuine smile. "more than you'll ever know. so don't be scared and let's face this together, hmm?"

seonwoo

no seonwoo :( he's so sulky and pouty. worse than jake if we're being real.

"ah, what are you talking about? i just told you i liked you! how can i stop?!" he argued, folding his arms and mending his brows in the only way he knew how to express his anger.

you open your mouth to respond but he continues to talk. seonwoo's hands begin to start flailing about. "also why would i stop? how?! you're so... likeable. gosh, everything is so good about you! you're so pretty, so funny, so smart, so talented... and you want me to stop? okay. fine. how about you stop bring pretty and good at everything? hmm? stop making me feel things and making me blush! how about that? huh?"

seonwoo, by now, has run out of steam. he's heavily breathing while lowkey glaring at you for suggesting something so stupid.

and you stand in front of him like, 0_0.

"seonwoo," you started, "i-i just meant... i'm scared for us because of your fans. and i worry for you. i know how you get when there's hate. you pretend it doesn't affect you but you're hurt, which is totally fine but that terrifies and hurts me too. i just wish you shared your problems with me if you felt comfortable enough to."

seonwoo's shoulder dropped at your words. he pursed his lips "oh."

you winced, feeling like you had made things too serious.

"ohhhhhh, that makes sense," he chirped, clapping his ands.

eh? all of a sudden?

seonwoo took a deep breath, calming himself down. he grabbed your hands, covering it with his own. "first of all, i'm so so sorry for worrying you. i promise you, i'll tell you how i'm feeling, hmm? and the fans... who cares? we don't need to care about anyone. just you and me."

jungwon

as the leader, he's used to being put in situations and having to adjust. but this... this puts jungwon off entirely.

because what are you talking about? he had worked up so much courage to tell you he liked you and you were telling him to just stop.

jungwon blinked, trying to process your words. he pressed his lips together, making his dimples pop out. he scratched his forehead. "so let me get this straight... tell me if i'm wrong. but you want me to stop like you? is that right? after i told you i liked you? are... are you okay? are you sick? do you need medicine?"

as humorous as the latter sounded, jungwon was entirely serious. his hand was raised to your forehead, feeling for your temperature. raising a brow, he said, "you don't feel hot..."

"jungwon," you blankly said, hand still on your forehead, "i am perfectly fine," you assured him.

jungwon removed his hand, falling into deeper thought. "then why? i mean, i could try but i'd fail because all i do is think about you. if i'm being honest, trying to stop liking you would be unrealistic and far too difficult for me. and in the most non-offensive way, i think you're lying. this isn't something you want. i know that because i know you like me too."

ah jungwon... always so straightforward. even now, he was making your cheeks flush.

jungwon shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "and if you're scared... i understand."

you lifted your head, eyes widening.

jungwon nodded to himself, realising he had hit the nail on it's head. "i'll give you space, if that's what you want. but i wish you would let me comfort you in these times. i would like to work through these problems with you. i would fight for you in a heartbeat."

jungwonnie ahhhhhh ♡︎

riki

maybe surprising, but despite being the youngest, he's probably the one who understands the most. he's still stubborn, don't get me wrong, but he knows exactly where you're coming from.

his entire career, from the moment he stepped onto i-land, people viewed him strangely. the boy from japan in korea or they saw him in a way that was unbecoming and made him comfortable. his experience with fans was always bittersweet. some enjoyed him for who he was while others were asking marry him when he was still a minor.

either way, riki stands by you like a rock. well, figuratively. he was actually currently sitting beside you in a park. "i'm not going to stop liking you, so you can stop trying to convince me. i'm going to stick by you. what do they say... through thick and thin? for better or for worse... in sickness and health? i'm going to draw boundaries for everyone so don't you worry about those 'fans.'"

at your silence, he turned to you, eye widening upon seeing the unshed tears in your waterline. that was not what he was going. quickly, he stood up from his seat and bent down in front of you. he held one of your hands and used his other to hold your face. "oh my god, i didn't mean to make you cry. i'm so sorry! please, stop. i don't like seeing you cry, especially because of me."

riki furrowed his brows upon hearing you laugh lightly and your body shake. he ducked his head further, trying to get a clear glimpse of your face. "i... you're laughing?" he asked incredulously.

you chuckled softly, putting both of your hands on his face. "riki, you idiot... i'm crying out of happiness. you're so sweet!"

riki's cheeks burned under your hands. he raised a brow, "me? sweet?" he questioned. he shrugged. "i mean i guess i am?" he said nonchalantly, making you hit him playfully.

he smiled, relieved to see you happy once again.

niki 🥹

© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!

[avatar-anna]

this is very unedited, and i'm like half asleep as i write this, but a Horan!sister reader has been in the back of my mind recently (mostly bc i miss one direction and maybe bc i saw niall live a couple weeks ago) anyway, enjoy!

"We...We, um, we kissed."

"Yeah. We did."

"But we're—we're friends."

"I know."

"Are you freaking out? I feel like you're not freaking out enough," you said as you paced the length of your hotel room.

Harry, who sat on his bed, the one mere feet from yours, shrugged. "I don't see a need to, honestly."

You couldn't believe how nonchalant he was being. You and Harry had never expressed any romantic feelings for each other. You'd known each other for ages, and of course you thought he was attractive—who wouldn't?—but that was it. There were never any heated glances, no longing gazes while the other wasn't looking, no hugs that lasted too long to be anything other than friendly. You were friends, nothing more, and what had just happened changed everything.

Unless...

"You're right," you found yourself saying. "It was just a heat of the moment thing. We—We just got excited, that's all."

You were ready for Harry to agree with you. You were ready to agree to forget about the kiss, to never mention it again, pretend it never happened. That was the only logical option in your mind, unless you wanted to throw years of friendship down the drain. You didn't want to be a cliche, and you didn't think Harry wanted to either.

Plus, there was the other thing, but you didn't want to even think about that right now.

"Did we?" Harry asked. He looked amused as he tracked your movements, one hand playing with his bottom lip as if he was trying to cover up a smile.

"What do you mean—Of course we did. You're you and I—and he—Stop looking at me like that!"

This time, Harry didn't even try to hide his grin, dimples set deep in his cheeks as he laughed. "Like what?"

"Like you—" Like you want to sleep with me, you thought but didn't say. That was even more dangerous territory. "Like you don't regret what we did."

"We kissed, Y/n, we didn't kill someone," Harry said.

Right, you thought. This was normal for Harry. He probably didn't think twice about it because he was constantly kissing people. Well, not constantly, but definitely more than you did. Your brother made sure of that.

"You're right, sorry," you said. "So we'll just forget it happened then, right? We can just go back to—"

"Hold on a minute, I didn't say that."

For the first time since you kissed him, you looked at Harry directly. "Excuse you?"

"I don't regret what happened," Harry said, standing up slowly. "Do you?"

"Yes! I mean we're friends, and your best friend is—"

"Let's leave that out of the equation. Just for a second," he said. For every step he took toward you, you took one back. "That wasn't just in the heat of the moment, Y/n. I think we both know that."

"It—It was. We were celebrating and got carried away—"

"See, I'd believe you if you hadn't used tongue."

"You used tongue first!"

"And you moaned."

"It was a sound of surprise from the use of said tongue!"

Harry took another step closer, and once your back hit the wall, you had nowhere left to go. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, sweet and a little smoky. His eyes were intense as they stared down at you, expression unreadable as he looked you up and down.

Since you met him, Harry had been hard to read. He was naturally quiet, never giving much away unless he was more than a few drinks in. Not to mention the first few years of knowing him that you'd gotten to know each other more. You only knew him through your brother, who was more than happy to stick you with the annoying little sister role, despite only being a year younger than him.

There was a point in time where you might've had a crush on Harry. You remembered watching him on TV at night and liking his voice and his smile and curly hair. Your brother had gone and ruined it of course when you met for the first time, teasing you about said crush, and you went so out of your way to convince everyone that you didn't that you succeeded perhaps a little too well. But now you knew Harry better. He wasn't some boy who sang on television anymore. Well, he was, but he was so much more than that now, his fame growing wild and beyond anything you could comprehend.

"Was it a bad kiss?" he asked suddenly.

That was a question you didn't expect. "What? N—No, it was fine—"

"Fine? Just fine?" Harry repeated. "What's a guy got to do to be better than fine?"

"That's not what matters!" you said, growing exasperated. "It should never have happened in the first place. You're my brother's best friend, you're—you're his bandmate!"

Niall had an embarrassing amount of rules when it came to you and his friends. Not that you thought they were ever really necessary, though now you weren't so sure. Half the boys were already in relationships anyway, and Harry was...well, he was Harry. As long as you'd known him, he'd never had a long term relationship. You didn't know why, and you were never close enough to him to ask. But the more famous he, and One Direction, became, the more...larger than life he seemed. Or maybe it was that you were in the perpetual space of being Niall's little sister that you'd just automatically written him off as someone who wouldn't be interested in you.

Either way, whatever was happening now was nerve-inducing. And scary. And making you feel things you weren't sure you wanted to feel.

"Is there an area I could improve in? Like specifically? Or was it the overall kiss that was mediocre? I'm really trying to wrap my head around this," he said. "Not to be rude, but I normally don't get many complaints."

"How are you being so—so unbothered right now?" you asked.

"I don't know, I just know that I liked kissing you," Harry said with a shrug. "And that I'd like to do it again. If not for the sake of kissing you then to at least improve from fine to enjoyable."

"Oh my God, the kiss was better than fine, okay? It was probably the best kiss I've had in a while. Best kisser in all of London. You're a proper Casanova," you admitted with a huff, knowing Harry wouldn't let that one detail go. "Happy?"

"Very. So...want to do it again?"

"No!"

"Why?"

Was he whining? "Because—"

"Okay, all of the stuff about your brother and my bandmate and how this probably isn't a stellar idea aside, you can't tell me you don't want to," he said. His eyes searched yours, looking for an answer in them before you said it. "I meant what I said, Y/n. I don't tend to do things I'll regret, and I don't regret kissing you."

That face, you thought. It was too beautiful, too distracting to make you think straight. Harry was all sharp angles and high cheekbones and long hair now, it wasn't fair. You didn't stand a chance against it all. Especially when his big green eyes almost seemed to plead with yours.

Deep down—maybe not even that deep, quite shallow, actually—you knew you enjoyed the kiss too, and not just because Harry was objectively good at it. It was him, it was the pesky feelings that erupted and took root inside you when you first slid your lips against his. Perhaps the kiss had started out as a heat of the moment thing—an overemotional celebration after watching a particularly intense football match after running into each other in London. You were there on holiday and he was home during his time off. You found yourselves spending they say together, finding comfort in each other's familiarity.

You'd never meant to spend the whole day with him, you'd never meant to invite him to your room to watch football and order room service, you'd never meant to kiss him after a goal scored. Yet you did, and you had, and it was hard to cross back over to ignorance and bliss when you knew what it felt like to have Harry's lips on yours.

"We can't tell him," you said. "Not yet. Not until we know what we're doing. He'll kill you."

"I know," Harry said, his fingers coming up to play with a strand of your hair. "When do you go back home?"

"In a few days, but—Fuck."

"What? Changed your mind already?"

"No, I just—I'm coming with you. On tour," you said, eyes widening. "It was Niall's graduation gift to me. Some time off traveling before I get a job and everything."

"Okay, well that's—that's an obstacle for a few days from now. Let's just—unless you don't want to anymore—I mean, I can go if—"

"Who's nervous now?" you teased.

"Not nervous, just being extra sure. Got a lot to live up to, being the best kisser in the world and everything."

"Pretty sure I said London."

"Pretty sure we don't need to debate it anymore," Harry said, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. "You can just kiss me now instead."

The movement felt almost too natural, his hair soft beneath your fingertips as you leaned in, putting you both out of misery and kissing him for the second time.

It was just as good, if not better than the first time you kissed him earlier. Harry's lips were incredibly soft, gentle but sure. Your body molded perfectly against his, feeling light as his hands roamed up and down your back, through your hair, on your hips. You felt those same butterflies from before, the ones that told you you might be feeling more than just lust, but you batted that thought away.

It was way too early to be entertaining those thoughts. You wanted to just enjoy the moment, go with the flow and not lose yourself in he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not. So you pulled him closer, sealed your tongue against Harry's bottom lip, and savored the flavor of his mouth on yours, letting it drown you until you could think about anything else but him.

"We're gonna have fun on tour, I think," Harry breathed, his voice coming out in shallow pants as you kissed along his jaw and up the shell of his ear.

There were a million reasons why you shouldn't, but they all floated away as Harry hoisted you up into his arms, your legs moving instinctively around his waist, leaving just him and a very easy and resounding yes. Your answer came in the form of kissing him once more, your hands tugging eagerly on his hair until every doubt and question was a distant memory.

[slayfics]

Muichiro gets jealous when another Hashira looks after you on a mission.

Muichiro was sitting down leaning against a tree, not too far outside his mansion. He knew he had a long night ahead of him patrolling his area, so he took these few peaceful moments of twilight to sip some tea before heading out.

That was when he looked up to see you returning to the mansion. You had been gone out on a mission for a few days. Since you had been training so hard, you were sometimes sent on solo missions without him now.

Muichiro was proud of your improvement but he found himself occasionally worrying about you when you were gone for long periods of time. Seeing you return in one piece caused him to relax more against the tree.

"Hi Tokito!" You greeted the Hashira.

"Welcome back, how was your mission?" He asked, then grazed his eyes across you and noticed some blood on your sleeve.

"It went well I-" You started to say but Muichiro cut you off.

"You're hurt." He stated staring at the blood on your sleeve.

"Oh it's not that bad." You said trying to brush off his statement then hid your arm behind your back.

"Come here." He demanded and set down his tea.

You sat down next to him and he pulled up your sleeve to inspect the injury, but he found it had already been wrapped and tended to.

"Iguro helped me!" You said. Muichiro noticed the smile that spread across your face, and the slightest increase of your heart rate when you spoke the other Hashira's name. He had no explanation for it but he suddenly felt nauseous and hot.

"I ran into him on my mission and he taught me how to dress my wound. He said it wasn't anything big enough to go to the butterfly mansion about."

While you explained, Muichiro still had his hand on your rolled up sleeve and he stared intently at your wrapped wound while he tried to make sense of the overwhelming feeling that was coming over him. He should be grateful Obanai was there to help, but instead he felt like shoving his face in the dirt the next time he crossed paths with him. He noticed the excitement in your voice when you talked about Obanai and he couldn't help but wonder why.

"You like him?" Muichiro asked. A question that surprised you.

"Well I respect him as a Hashira of course." You answered confused by the question.

"Your heart rate increased when you spoke his name. Do you like him?" Muichiro further questioned.

"Tokito... are you... are you jealous that Iguro helped me?" You asked.

Jealous? Is that what this feeling was? Muichiro finally let go of your sleeve and looked off into the distance. What sense did being jealous make? As hard as Muichiro tried he couldn't think of a logical explanation to be jealous...

"No. What sense would being jealous make." Muichiro finally stated and looked at you.

"Hm... well ok then. I guess that means you won’t mind that I was just on my way to write Iguro a letter. I want to thank him again for staying with me through the night while I felt better." You said playfully and got up to walk away. Muichiro reached up quickly, grabbed you around your waist and pulled you down to sit between his legs. You now sat facing away from him, back resting against his chest.

"No." Was all Muichiro managed to say. He felt his body tremble in a way he did not recognize. He still wasn't understanding his own emotions, all he knew was he wanted you far away from Obanai.

"I knew it! You are jealous!" You exclaimed.

"What do you mean he stayed with you? How did he stay with you?" Muichiro asked, arms wrapped around you squeezing you tighter against him. The image in his head of you with Obanai was making him sick.

"I just meant he waited with me till I was ok to make the journey back here. What did you think I meant??"

Muichiro didn't answer but rested his head on top of yours causing his hair to cascade around you. In this position you could feel how fast his heart was racing.

"I don't like Igruo." You said hoping to help Muichiro relax. You realized now your teasing had gone too far. However, you had never seen Muichiro react this way and you wanted more insight to his true feelings for you.

"Are you still hurt? Do you need me to stay with you?" Muichiro asked.

"I'm feeling much better. I know you have to do your patrol soon, but when you get back... you know you're always welcome to stay with me... and you should know that isn't something I'd offer Iguro to do."

Muichiro was glad you were facing away from him and couldn't see the flushed color his face turned from your invitation.

"Ok. I'll stay with you when I get back, and I will teach you how to redress your wound because you're my Tsuguko."

"Yes, I'm yours Tokito." You smiled, amused by Muichiro’s sudden possessiveness over you.

[tealgoat]

Writing from @felikatze !!!

The Favor Tree. Not something uniquely Vaugardian, mind you. Plenty of powerful trees are strewn about Ka Bue as well, but this one *is* Vaugardian, and so you'd like to wish on one at least once, for completion's sake.

What to wish for, though? You can wish for Vaugarde to be saved, of course. But, in all likelihood, everyone in Dormont already has, so what will your wish even accomplish, then? The logical part of you wants to make it a test. Something simple to see whether these wishes have any merit to them.

If they don't, you'll save Vaugarde by your own strength. If they do, a little help goes a long way.

Right, something simple it shall be. A coin flip. You'll wish to win your next coin flip.

You clasp your hands together like Mirabelle does, close your eyes, and

"That's not how you wish, Madam!"

"...Siffrin?"

With quick strides, Siffrin catches up to her. Hadn't they meant to go later? Oh, in her dwadling, Isabeau already left.

Siffrin smiles with curiosity next to you, and you untangle your hands. "What'd you wish for?" they ask.

"Nothing yet. After someone so rudely interrupted me." You say it with a sarcastic tilt.

Siffrin mirrors you after a beat. He looks around. "So rude! We gotta find the culprit! Oh, maybe they're hiding up in the tree. It's pretty..."

You know what's coming.

"TREE-mendous, after all!"

Despite yourself, you snort.

"So, my brave hero, if that's not how you wish, how do you do it then?"

"Uh!" Siffrin startles. "Uh!" He bends to the ground and picks up... a leaf?

"Here!" They hold the leaf out to you. You try to grab it, but they snatch it back. "No! First, pick the leaf you like best. That best represents you."

You don't know anything about Siffrin's past. Or where they're from, at all. So if he's sharing this piece of tradition... it won't hurt to humor him.

Your knees seriously don't like bending down like that. Instead of grabbing the first leaf you see, you ponder them for a little bit. Eventually, you decide on one that's a little longer than the others, with an odd bend in its tip.

"This one." You push yourself off the ground. It is. A struggle. Siffrin offers you a hand. You take it without aknowledgement. "What next?"

Siffrin puts a hand on his chin and squints, as he does when forgetting something. What, did they forget in the middle of showing her?

No, Siffrin proceeds by instinct. They bring the leaf up to their mouth and whisper far too softly for Odile's aging ears. Then, he folds the leaf and lets it go.

It drifts on the wind, higher and higher, until it disappears into the trees.

"There. Whisper your wish into it three times, fold it, and let it go."

"I've never seen a Vaugardian do that."

Siffrin seems lost. "It's not... It's..."

You drop the subject. "Why thrice?"

"That's just... the way to do it? You can also do six and nine, I think, and seven and thirteen."

"Multiples of three and prime numbers?"

"Prime numbers?"

"Forget it. Alright."

You hold the leaf to your face, curling it to speak into. A simple, logical wish, to test the Favor Tree. That'd seems rude now, after Siffrin shared part of his culture with you.

Something better. Something... genuine. And that's the hard part, isn't it? You have a reputation to uphold. It's easier that way. Like... like you don't care how much Siffrin's eye sparkles right now, waiting with bated breath.

It'll be easier to leave them again. Bonnie will go to their sister, Isabeau to the Defenders, Mirabelle to the House, and Siffrin...

Siffrin is a traveler too, is he not? Maybe the others won't go with you, but you could show them Ka Bue. Teach them how to pray at shrines, about all the different foods you ache for, all the culture you left to find something new. Despite it all, Ka Bue was your home, and... you'd like to share it with them, if you can.

Ah, you just want to stay with them.

You fold the leaf, and it leaves on the breeze.

"Hah."

"Madame?"

"You're rubbing off on me, Siffrin."

You pat them on the shoulder. Siffrin freezes. Until your hand leaves them again.

"My apologies, Siffrin."

It's quite silly to think they'd go with you after all.