#forgot to add that tag for these guys lol

[seasnailfish]

some old and recent doodles of lifesteal and unstables silles... hello ls and uu nation👋👋😄

[madeimpact]

❝ WOOO!! ❞ Rather than feeling bested by someone years younger than him, however, he simply ( maybe ill-advisedly ) cheered her on. ❝ Oh, man! You feel that? That's the energy kickin' in! ❞

"Pssh, you think that's a lot? That's nothing!" Aaaaand she chugged an entire bottle of Mountain Dew. Ahhh teenagers. Always trying to one up someone.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

i realized they had the same birthday (dec 21st) so i was like "yoooo i should draw them together"

silly bonus:

[aviomons]

hello fools

[plurralthiing]

its that time of the year again

[xxpuppy-teethxx]

all i have to offer are horses

[whumpshaped]

i realised i never rly said anything abt going on a Real Break lol sorry- but yea im not on tumblr for rn if i dont respond to anything thats why !

[doubletaileddoubletrouble]

Sorry I'm late to say this, I just got off of work, but-

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!

And happy Sonic's birthday month, too!

I don't know if I'm planning something big this year or not. Something always seems to go wrong on his birthday.

That was off track- No matter where you come from, your gender or relationship preferences don't define who you are or your worth! Everyone is amazing, from the gays to the zom/zomselves, and everyone in between. Don't be afraid to be yourself! Heh, fearless year of Shadow moment.

Off-topic again, but McDonald's is actually really accepting of LGBT persons! I swear, we're allowed to put pins on our hats, and everyone who actually does it has some form of pride pin or pronoun pin, and it's awesome!

[ginkovskij]

gin, we need your critical opinion about megalopolis. was it really that bad?

i mean.

is it unwatchable? no. but also it is not good for sure. would love for it to be a case of "so bad it circles back being somehow good", but unfortunately no, becasue in order to achieve such a thing coppola should have gone camp and embraced the style instead of taking himself too seriously.

there are. ideas. that considered by themselves sort of make sense if you are desperate to find sense in this insanity of a movie, but whether within or without context for the large part they remain disjointed. and are anyway very cringe at core. i don't know how to put it kindly but the script just sucks. and choices were made.

[devilishdelights]

could not be mc because if i heard a voice speaking to me i’d just think it’s on me and my brain. like oh no i’m hallucinating voices again haha, makes sense since i’m in this stressful insane situation :)

and then at some other point when it does become unbearable and i realize it’s NOT me id just ask to move to purgatory hall. (would ask diavolo directly and give my reasoning as to why because lucifer is a dickhead and would say no simply because he can)

[randomnameless]

Eh, i'm not sure i agree with the point about needing to have scenes where characters who did bad things apologize to the people they've hurt, especially when it can be inferred that they did so off-screen; Iruka wasn't in the war, Kurama and Naruto only go back to the Leaf after a timeskip, and then there's a 12-year timeskip in chapter 700, and Kurama could have easily apologized to Iruka for what he did during either of those timeskips, especially after Naruto reignited his faith in humanity. Characters can change, regret bad things they've done, and apologize to the people hurt by said bad actions, and i don't think it's necessary to have scenes where they list off all their regrets and apologize to everyone they hurt on-screen.

Also, i don't recall there being any proof Obito had anything to do with starting the Blood Mist tradition, though i could be wrong on that.

Also also, i don't remember the scene very well, but it's fine for Naruto to call Kurama a brother after they spent 12 years being on very good terms and the two of them being nothing but helpful to each other; it's bad if he says that he was one of his first bonds, sure, since that's blatantly wrong, but if he just said that he grew a close attachment to Kurama after all they went through in the og series, that seems perfectly fine to me.

In regards to the Raikage scene, Naruto wasn't arguing that he should forgive Sasuke outright, just that he shouldn't go out and kill him because that'd just cause the people in the Leaf who still cared about Sasuke to hold a grudge against the Cloud, which could spiral into something much worse given enough time; he never tells Ay that Sasuke should go completely unpunished for what he did, just that there's no reason to put out a kill-on-sight order on him.

With the convo between Naruto and Nagato, while it is kinda underwhelming, i think it still works decently, though not as well as Obito's; Nagato's worldview had just been shattered by not only being beaten despite considering himself an almighty god above humanity, but also by Naruto, someone whose life he'd just ruined and who admitted to hating him, refusing to act on his anger and wanting to listen to his side of the story, before proclaiming that he'd find a way to succeed where Nagato had failed and end the cycle of hatred. While it's a bit of a stretch that being proven wrong about being above humanity and seeing one counter-example to his theory that people can't truly understand each other and will always fall back on their anger caused him to change his mind as much as he did, i wouldn't call it a “bad” convo.

It's long so I'll put it under a cut!

Eh, i'm not sure i agree with the point about needing to have scenes where characters who did bad things apologize to the people they've hurt, especially when it can be inferred that they did so off-screen; Iruka wasn't in the war, Kurama and Naruto only go back to the Leaf after a timeskip, and then there's a 12-year timeskip in chapter 700, and Kurama could have easily apologized to Iruka for what he did during either of those timeskips, especially after Naruto reignited his faith in humanity.

Sure anon, but imo, it reads as another dark spot against Kishi's manga -

There wasn't enough screentime for the victims to gain reparation, but we always had the adequate screentime to get the villain's backstory?

As I said in an earlier post, we're eons away from Part 1 Gaara who, just after being beaten by Naruto, apologises to Temari and Kankuro while they're taking him away.

The anime and the manga are different, I know, but even Pierrot (who did wonders for this verse!) had time to show Ino'n'Sakura arguing about a trinket to offer to Naruto and Hinata for their wedding, but no time for, idk, while Naruto isn't sure he should ask Iruka if he can act as his "father figure", Kurama trying to resolve the situation and/or thinking he might be the problem because he killed Iruka's parents all those years ago and deciding to apologise for doing so - with Iruka basically rehearsing what he said in the very first chapter, Naruto is Naruto and Kurama is Kurama, he would have came to the wedding regardless of anything, but he is glad Kurama is now someone who can worry for others like Naruto, and not only the person who killed his parents -

I mean, something, anything else than "and they made up off screen during the timeskip when Naruto gave free wifi access to Konoha".

Also, i don't recall there being any proof Obito had anything to do with starting the Blood Mist tradition, though i could be wrong on that.

I've checked the wiki (i know :() but I was under the impression the Bloody Mist era started when Yagura was the 4th Mizukage? And when we know Yagura was manipulated through Genjustu by Obito...

It's funny because in Boruto we have his grandson (?) who says his family was basically ostracised in the Mist because of Yagura's actions - I guess no one told him or the people of the Mist that Yagura wasn't the demon and despot everyone remembers him as, he was acting like this because he was being controlled ? By Obito?

Grandson dies in the Boruto plot, so hopefully, no one will ever give a fuck about this "who did the Bloody Mist" anymore.

In regards to the Raikage scene, Naruto wasn't arguing that he should forgive Sasuke outright, just that he shouldn't go out and kill him because that'd just cause the people in the Leaf who still cared about Sasuke to hold a grudge against the Cloud, which could spiral into something much worse given enough time; he never tells Ay that Sasuke should go completely unpunished for what he did, just that there's no reason to put out a kill-on-sight order on him.

My Bad, I misremembered!

However, Naruto's pleas are completely worthless because, while I know "death for death" isn't solving anything, Ay's brother was killed by a member of Akatsuki - the same organisation Konoha (and Naruto himself!) has been hunting for years know.

Sasuke's situation is a bit complex, but usually, the second someone joins the Akatsuki, they're a missing nin, a criminal and are marked as threats who have to be supressed.

Sure Hidan'n'Kakuzu happened before Naruto talked to Pain, but I doubt Naruto stopped by the village of Waterfall to talk to people who loved Kakuzu to "break the cycle of hatred" and not take revenge on Konoha.

I don't remember if it's during this moment or later, but Naruto basically pleads for Ay to apply a double standard because Sasuke is his friend.

This is where Naruto as a manga completely fails, and the issue that brought this entire discussion lol - characters face no consequences for their actions, especially when it comes to dealing with victims of said actions.

In his novel (iirc?) Sasuke behaved like an adult - or the better man compared to Naruto - and ultimately went to Ay to apologise for his arm, the Kage Summit and everything else, and Ay accepted his apologies.

With the convo between Naruto and Nagato, while it is kinda underwhelming, i think it still works decently, though not as well as Obito's; Nagato's worldview had just been shattered by not only being beaten despite considering himself an almighty god above humanity, but also by Naruto, someone whose life he'd just ruined and who admitted to hating him, refusing to act on his anger and wanting to listen to his side of the story, before proclaiming that he'd find a way to succeed where Nagato had failed and end the cycle of hatred.

This is the petulant child/tantrum I was talking about, I'm sure if Nagato accepted to listen back the Tsunade instead of Shinra Tensei'ng her to oblivion, he might have had a change of heart, but he was full of himself because of his might in a "might makes right" mindset - as you pointed out, he believed himself to be a god, so he had to be beaten up before finally being willing to listen to people.

I liked the part where Kurama came out during their "discussion", I remember when the raws (a very long time ago lol) were released people were wondering if Kishi made a blooper with Naruto's eyes, but no! Kurama, was also pissed at his story/discourse!

Naruto being the better man/the adult and not bashing his head in was a great sign of maturity from his part* - but then everything failed, because that discussion he had with Nagato about the cycle of hatred and his backstory was... only between him and Nagato.

Nagato solves this issue before it can arisen, but when Choji will ask why his father died, what Naruto is going to tell him? When Sakura will ask for some sort of reparation/justice/consequence against the man who killed both of her parents (assuming they were in the village when it was destroyed), what is going to happen?

Why only Naruto, as a victim, was allowed to get closure/an answer for Nagato's crimes, and not the 48752 other victims who might have had the same grievances?

And again, the cycle of hatred created by Nagato broke, the second he died to resurrect everyone - so there's no hatred to deal with. Naruto had to deal with his own hatred and sadness, accepted to listen to Nagato, and Nagato "undid" all the hatred he created and on top of that, dies, so no one will ever talk him shit for what he did (and undid). That's it.

We don't know if Sakura would have reacted like Naruto, if Shikamaru would, if Chouji would etc etc.

I know the manga is called Naruto and not Choji, but when the answer is supposed to be an answer for the world, it's completely ridiculous that Naruto gives it, and later forgot to tell to the rest of the village what was the result of his discussion, instead basking in the fame of "having defeated Pain".

There's no greated discussion between Naruto and his friends and the village council or whoever about what happened to Pain, what was the "cycle of hatred" and how to prevent future Pains from popping up.

*even if I prefered Asta's version, but in this specific Naruto situation, instead of listening to Nagato's answer and ultimately only talking about Jiraiya this and Jiraiya that and forgetting the 2k people who died due to Nagato's warped vision of "peace", Naruto could have thrown him his og head protector, the thing he received from someone who should, by all means, hate him because the demon inside of him killed his parents - but no, that man put an end to that cycle and became the first person who ever acknowledged him and became his family - and in his trantrum, Nagato killed that man.

of course this entire arc was build around a "child of the prophecy" bullshit - which later needs zombitachi to remind Naruto that no, no one can do anything alone, they need to be surrounded by people and rely on them - so the "you gave up on ending the cycle of hatred but it doesn't mean you should kill anyone who still tries to get rid of it, like Jiraiya, Iruka, random konohasian 86 or even me" since only naruto/nagato had to have the answer, but well, to be fair, that arc and its entire premise was pretty shitty to begin with.

While it's a bit of a stretch that being proven wrong about being above humanity and seeing one counter-example to his theory that people can't truly understand each other and will always fall back on their anger caused him to change his mind as much as he did, i wouldn't call it a “bad” convo.

His theory completely sucked, because wow very surprising, when you kill someone's loved one that someone is going to be pissed.

Sure that's his entire backstory and motto, iirc, some konoha loldiers accidently killed his family (they thought they were other people?) so in the shortcutted Uchiha deduction by Tobirama (tm), the more you love, the more you're going to hate.

Also, the "people can't truly understand each other" theory is rich coming from the guy who hired a psycho like Hidan.

But in general, in Naruto, there's this weird conflation between "understanding" and "accepting" - people can and will understand each other by fighting, and the loser (if he survives) will understand the winner's pov? Or he died, so he accepted it ?

Take post Pain Arc Naruto, if he met, for some reason, Hidan who didn't die before. What was he going to say? To understand with a guy like Hidan? Would he be worried about spreading the cycle of hatred?

Would Naruto tell Shikamaru not to kill Hidan, the guy who nearly had a boner when he executed Azuma?

What did Pain/Nagato (or even Kishimoto in this manga) meant by understanding?

[agaypanic]

Hey! Could you do Charlie Swan x wife fem!reader where she own a bakery and they first met there (sort of flashback) and their journey through their relationship. And please add Bella (as someone nice & she accept her). Tag me later! Thank :)

Black Coffee and a Bagel (Charlie Swan X Baker!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Chief Swan coming into your bakery for breakfast one day turns into a life full of love, baking, and coffee.

A/N: this took forever to write holy shit. i usually dont add the word count to the actual fic, but i feel like i should tell yall this is over 5k words… when i read the twilight books (its been so hard getting through them bc they’re lowkey boring guys…) i envision charlie as billy burke but with kinda curly hair bc that’s what he has in the books, so that’s how he looks in this lol reader’s age isn’t specified so she can be read as charlie’s age or younger (legal obvi). maybe a bit ooc charlie but idc

***

It was a usual cloudy day in Forks, Washington. Like most other town residents, you didn’t really mind the gloomy weather. As long as your heaters worked and you had a decent jacket, you didn’t really care.

You were always the busiest in the morning. You owned a bakery in the middle of town, the only one open at six in the morning. Almost everyone came through your shop for breakfast or a drink before heading to work or school. 

But every now and then, you had a first-time customer.

The bell above your front door jingled, and you heard footsteps enter with a bit of hesitancy. You looked up from the espresso machine you were cleaning to see a man with curly dark hair, a mustache, and a badge.

“Chief Swan,” you smiled, moving to the counter. He was looking around the bakery with mild curiosity. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

“Yeah, I uh… I forgot to grab a coffee before I left the house.” He sounded like he was a bit embarrassed by his mistake. Then he finally looked up, chocolate brown eyes locking with yours. “And a lot of people talk about this place, so I figured it’d be a good opportunity to check it out.”

“Well, I’m glad to have you here. Welcome to Bear Claw Bakery.” You smile at him, maybe a bit too cheerfully for how early in the morning it was, but it was all part of your brand. Seeing such a handsome face also helped. “I can make any coffee you’d like.”

“I can see that.” Chief Swan said, gesturing to the convoluted drink menu on the wall behind you. He seemed a bit intimidated by all the choices.

“How about a black coffee?” He lit up, seemingly relieved by your suggestion.

“Yes, please. Large.”

As you made his coffee, you fell into a comfortable silence. You became focused on his drink, and he decided to peruse your display cases of baked goods. After all, this was a bakery.

“See anything you like?” You ask as you put the lid on his cup, remembering to add a sleeve so he wouldn’t burn his hand.

He hummed, staring at a tray of bagels for a few seconds before looking at you. He straightened up, pointing to the baked goods.

“Could I get a bagel? Plain.” 

“Of course!” You slid the glass door open and grabbed a bagel with your tongs, putting it in a goody bag and folding the top a few times. Chief Swan watched you for a small moment before fumbling for his wallet, keeping his eyes on the counter in front of him. You watched him pull out a bill and waved your hand. “Oh, no. On the house.”

“What?” He looked up at you in surprise, and you just smiled at him.

“Think of it as a first-time discount.” You shrug as you push his coffee and bagel towards him. 

He folded the bill but didn’t put it back in his wallet. Instead, while maintaining eye contact, he dropped it into the tip jar beside him.

“Thanks, uh…” He said as he pocketed the wallet and grabbed his coffee. It was then that you realized that he didn’t know your name.

“Oh! Y/n.” You stuck your hand out without thinking. But before you could pull it back, he shook your hand with a polite smile. “And you’re obviously Chief Swan.” You said with an airy laugh.

“Please, call me Charlie.” He punctuated his name by squeezing your hand before letting go. There was a softness to his tone that you didn’t suspect, but you enjoyed it.

“Charlie,” you repeated, liking the sound of it. “I hope you like the coffee and the bagel.”

He nodded once, grabbed the goody bag still on the counter, and left with a small wave. You didn’t have much time to think about the interaction because a group of high schoolers soon came in, chattering loudly about different things. One thing you knew for sure, though, was that you hoped he’d be back sometime soon.

***

You were surprised to see Charlie back at the bakery the next day. You were unlocking the front door when he pulled up next to your car in his police cruiser.

“Right on time.” You laughed as he exited the car. “I’m just starting to open.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know your hours,” he said, checking his watch. The sun was barely starting to peek out from the clouds. “I have to go to the station early today, was hoping I could get coffee and a bagel.”

“Of course! Come on in,” you say, holding the door open just long enough for him to catch as you rush to behind the counter.

You started on Charlie’s coffee before going to the back to get a bag of fresh bagels. At the front, he was leaning against the counter, waiting for you.

“So I’m guessing you liked it?” You asked with a smile as you bagged up a bagel for him, putting the rest in the display case. “The coffee and bagel? Since you came back.” You added after a moment of silence.

“Oh, yeah!” He said, sounding as if he was a bit distracted by something. “Both were delicious.”

“I’m glad.” You placed his bagel and coffee on the counter.

“Now I’m hoping to actually pay this time,” Charlie said, raising his brows, and you couldn’t help but giggle. You told him the total, and when you gave him his change, he dropped it into the tip jar. “Thanks again. And sorry for coming so early.”

“It’s no problem, Chief-” You cut yourself off, receiving a knowing look from him. “Charlie. It’s really no problem. Hope you have a good day.” 

“Same to you, Y/n.” 

Charlie grabbed his things, waved at you, and walked out. After watching him drive away, you continued to open the bakery for the day. As you served the people coming in, you wondered if Charlie’s coming in would become a regular occurrence. Deep down, you hoped so.

***

Charlie Swan coming to the bakery became a daily habit. It pleased you not only because you were proud to have such a loyal customer, but also because the man was handsome and very nice, despite his usual awkward demeanor. He’d be one of the first people to come in, or the first if he had to go to the station early. You always savored the small talk you shared with him, silently begging for no one to come in when he talked because then he’d stay a little longer, no matter how many times he said that he should really be going.

You were really starting to like Charlie Swan, both as a friend and something more. Of course, you kept that part to yourself.

“Black coffee and a bagel.” It was more of a statement than a question as Charlie opened the door. He ordered the same thing every day; honestly, you admired his consistency.

“Yup.” He responded, pulling out his wallet before he even reached the counter. “Oh, by the way, I was wondering if you did like, deliveries? Or something like that?”

“Depends.” You answer. “I do catering and delivery for parties and stuff.”

“Ah,” Charlie clicked his tongue, seeming a little disappointed. “Was just wondering because I’ve been having to work a lot of late nights with all those bear attacks.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard a bit about those,” you sighed. “Poor people.”

“Yeah, I know. And anyways, if I’m being honest, your coffee’s better than the stuff we have at the station. But I get it if you don’t do that sort of thing.”

“I can do it!” You decide before even thinking about it. But when you gave it some thought, you remembered that you were the boss. If you went while one of your employees was working, they could surely hold down the fort for the ten minutes you’d be gone. “I, um, I can do that for you.”

“Really?” Although his expression didn’t change much, you could tell that Charlie’s eyes were lighting up. He must’ve really loved your coffee.

“Yeah! Perks of being your own boss.” You laugh, grabbing a piece of paper and writing down your number. “We don’t have a phone for the bakery yet; I just keep forgetting to do that. So this is my number.” You slid the paper over to Charlie, who grabbed it without letting his eyes leave you. “Just call me, and it’ll probably take me five to ten minutes to get to the station. We close at nine, but I stay way later than that most nights, so feel free to call whenever.”

Charlie pocketed the piece of paper like it was a precious item he didn’t want to get wrinkled or crumpled. 

“I’ll do that,” he said, reaching for his breakfast. “I’ll see you later, Y/n.”

“See you later, Charlie.” You watched him leave, and once he was out the door, you finally realized that you had just unabashedly given the cute Chief of Police your phone number. Telling him to call you anytime. 

And he did. At around eight that night, you got a call from an unknown number, and a somewhat groggy Charlie was speaking on the other end.

“Y/n?” He asked, as if he was unsure whether or not you had actually given him your number.

“Hey, Charlie!” you responded, clearly more awake than him. “Need a coffee?”

“Please.” He sounded desperate, and you were a bit embarrassed by the fact that his tone needed you to take a moment to recompose yourself. The way he said it was a bit whiny, but his voice was husky, probably from his tiredness. A long sigh came from the phone. “I feel like I’m going crazy over here.”

“Then I’ll be over soon.” 

You and Charlie said quick goodbyes to each other, and you went to the counter to make his coffee. You told Maddie, who was working the closing shift with you, that you’d be back soon, but she could lock up without you if needed. Then you were on your way to the police station.

The parking lot was empty except for one cruiser, which you guessed was Charlie’s. Walking into the building to find it empty and dark, aside from an office at the far end, confirmed your suspicions.

“Delivery for Chief Swan.” You say, knocking on his office door, which was cracked open the slightest bit. Charlie looked up at you from his desk, and you wouldn’t be surprised if your presence had awakened him from an unplanned nap. His dark curly locks were a tousled mess, probably the result of his hands constantly running through them, and his eyelids seemed heavy.

“My savior,” Charlie grumbled, sitting up the slightest bit and reaching for the large cup. You stood in silence as you watched him gulp down the hot liquid, wondering how he didn’t immediately stop in pain. You guessed that his fatigue made him immune somehow, or less caring about burning his throat. “Good stuff.”

“Maybe instead of drinking it and scalding yourself, you should head home?” You suggested with a small laugh.

“Too much to do,” Charlie said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Too much going on for me to stop.”

“Well, it’s better to stop before you reach your limit, or you might be stopping for good.”

Charlie thought about what you said with a slight hum. His half-lidded eyes scanned his messy desk, cluttered with reports and other papers. To be completely honest, he was starting to doze off a little by the time you came, and words were starting to jumble together when he tried to read. 

“M’kay.” He sighed, taking another sip of coffee, this time wincing a bit at the heat. “You got a point there.” 

You watched as Charlie somewhat sluggishly got ready to leave. He threw on his jacket and turned off the lights, gesturing for you to leave the office first. When you got to the station’s front entrance, he held the door open for you.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He said after walking you to your car. “And drive safe.”

“Anytime,” you respond, opening the door and getting in the driver’s seat. “And the same goes for you.”

Charlie smiled, patting the top of your car as a farewell before walking over to his cruiser. Although he had turned on his car before you, he didn’t start driving until you left the parking lot.

***

A few months later, you were at your absolute busiest. Graduation was just around the corner, and almost every senior’s parent in Forks called asking if you could cater or do pick up orders for graduation parties. Although it meant your business would be booming for a while, you were slowly losing your sanity.

“Just a second!” You yelled from the back room after hearing the bell above the door ring. Carefully, you slid a large tray filled with cupcakes into one of your fridges and closed the door.

“Take your time!” Charlie yelled back, making you want to be as quick as possible. You wiped your hands on your apron and ran to the front, where Charlie greeted you with a smile. “Hey, Y/n. You busy?”

“Always am,” you laughed, leaning against the counter. “But I always have time for you, Charlie. Black coffee and a bagel?”

“You know me so well.” Charlie watched as you moved around, making his hot drink and picking out a bagel from the stack you had made this morning. “How are things?”

“Hectic.” You answer, rising from your crouched position to bag up the bagel. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Almost every parent has been ordering at least seventy-five cupcakes for their kids’ graduation parties, and there’s at least three parties happening every week.” You grabbed Charlie’s coffee, putting a lid on the cup before handing it to him. Despite it being scalding hot, he took a sip while he listened. “I’m grateful, obviously, but if I have to frost another cupcake, I think I’m gonna get carpal tunnel.”

“I forgot graduation parties were a thing,” Charlie said with a slightly embarrassed laugh. “I don’t know if Bella would want one, though; she kind of hates being the center of attention.”

“Well, if she decides to have one, you know who to call for the baked goods.” You say with a smile, taking Charlie’s cash and watching him put the change in the tip jar. You loved the familiarity and routine that you had with Charlie. Every day, he ordered the same thing without fail, asked how you were doing, used a bill that was anywhere between a few dollars more to over twice the amount needed, and put the change he got into your decorated tip jar. 

“I’ll ask her about it.” To most, it looked like Charlie was wearing a straight face. But you could tell that there was a slight upward curve to his lip. “Kinda hoping she says yes. I think it’d be fun.”

“Have a good day, Charlie.”

“Have a good day, Y/n.”

Later in the day, the bakery was crowded. School had just gotten out, and most of the kids came for a little pick-me-up, whether it was some kind of caffeinated drink or a sweet treat. Plus, some parents came by to pick up their party orders.

You didn’t expect to see Charlie in the crowd today, accompanied by a girl who seemed around high school age. You assumed that this was Bella, his daughter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Charlie greeted you once they reached the counter. “Place is packed.”

“Yup! I think finals are just around the corner, so these kids need all the help they can get.” You looked over at the young girl who stood next to Charlie. “Is this your daughter?”

“Yeah. Y/n, this is Bella. Bella, this is Y/n.” You greeted each other before Charlie spoke again. “I asked Bella about the whole graduation party thing, and she said it sounded like fun. So I decided to meet her here on my break so we could set up an order.”

“Awesome!” You grinned, grabbing an order form. Usually, you would be slightly dying on the inside if someone was making an order like this. But there seemed to be something about Charlie that diffused any annoyance or dread you would normally feel. “So, what were you thinking? Cupcakes?”

“Actually, we were thinking of a cake.” This answer made you perk up. Bella nodded, confirming the decision, which you quickly jotted down. While the three of you talked, Charlie’s radio on his shoulder sounded. “I gotta take this, I’ll be right back. Bells, just tell Y/n what you want, and I’ll pay for it. And if you want a drink or something, go ahead and order. Oh! Could I get a-”

“Black coffee?” You finished, giving Charlie a knowing smile. His usually pale cheeks seemed to turn pink, but you just chalked it up to the slightly warm and crowded room. “Of course, now go take your call.”

You waved Charlie away, who fought against the small crowd of students to get out of the building. You asked two of your employees to get on the register and start taking orders before turning back to Bella. As you wrote down what she wanted, she spoke somewhat timidly, as if she was saying something that was supposed to be a secret.

“He talks about you sometimes.” You looked at her with slight confusion. “My dad.”

“Oh?” Your heartbeat quickened at the information. It surprised you that Charlie thought of you outside of the bakery, let alone talked about you. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip, trying to keep more from spilling. But it didn’t work. “Half of the time, he’s raving about your coffee.”

“It’s just black coffee,” you said with a shrug, flipping the pen around with your fingers to release your giddy energy.

“Yeah, but you’re the one who makes it. And the other half of the time, he’s talking about how nice you are.”

“He thinks I’m nice?” You were glad your employees were taking care of the other customers because you were now completely distracted from the task at hand. Bella nodded, and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Well, I think he’s nice, too.”

“Who’s nice?” You and Bella jumped at Charlie’s surprise return.

“Uhh, no one.” You brushed off, quickly filling out the rest of the paper before turning it around and handing Charlie your pen. “Sign here, and we can get started on the order. Oh, did you want to do pick up or delivery?”

“Delivery,” Bella answered before Charlie could, eyes darting from you to her father. Neither of you opposed, so when you got the paper back, you marked the delivery option.

“Delivery it is.” You said, putting your pen in one of your apron pockets. “Charlie, I’ll get you your coffee. Bella, did you want anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” You nodded and quickly made a large black coffee. After checking them out and Charlie putting his change in the jar, you waved goodbye to the two Swans. “See you next week, Bella. And I’ll see you tomorrow, Charlie?”

“Of course.” He said with a smile before guiding Bella out of the shop.

You couldn’t wait to see Charlie Swan again.

***

A week later, you loaded Bella’s finished graduation cake into your car. After telling Maddie you’d be back soon, you got in the driver’s seat and drove to the Swan house. Everyone knew where everyone was in this town, but you still had your eyes glued to your map when they weren’t on the road, too scared to miss a turn. 

Soon, you pulled up to a white two-story house. You were confident that it was Charlie’s place when you saw his police cruiser and a red truck, which must have been Bella’s. There were a few cars scattered up and down the street, but you found a free spot right in front of the cop car. When you got out and grabbed the two-tiered cake, Charlie emerged from the front door.

“Y/n! You made it!” He jogged over to you as you closed the car door with a swing of your hip. “Here, lemme get that for ya.”

“You’re sweet, Charlie.” You carefully handed the cake to him and followed him inside. The place seemed to be packed with teens and their parents. Some stood out, and you knew exactly who they were from their pale complexions and beautiful features.

“Did you wanna stay for a bit?” Charlie asked as he set the cake down on a table. He scratched the back of his head, growing a bit shy. “You, uhh, you could taste your masterpiece. Mingle and stuff.”

“I should probably be getting back to the bakery…” You looked down at your watch. You supposed you could spare a few minutes. After all, you were the boss. Maddie was responsible; she would call you if she had any problems. “Well, I think I could stay a few minutes.”

“Great.” Charlie put on a large grin, one that you had probably never seen before. But it suited him nicely. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Charlie laid a hand on the small of your back to guide you through the small crowd. You already knew most of the people here, either regulars of yours or having recently become well acquainted with them because of delivery or pick-up orders. But then Charlie took you to a small group of people that you don’t remember every meeting, but you knew of them well.

“Y/n, these are the Cullens.” Charlie introduced. “Doctor Carlisle, his wife Esme, Bella’s boyfriend Edward, and his sister Alice.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.” You said kindly, shaking each hand that reached out to you. Their hands were cold, but that didn’t bother you. It was actually a bit refreshing after having your hands in and out of ovens for the past few weeks.

“Y/n made Bella’s cake,” Charlie said, proudly pointing to your creation on the table. “She owns Bear Claw Bakery. She’s… pretty amazing, at what she does.”

“I see that,” Carlisle said, looking at the cake. “Amazing detail, I bet it looks even better up close. You’re quite talented.”

“All you need is a steady hand.” You said, not used to compliments or attention like this. 

“Well, I know a thing or two about that,” Carlisle said with a laugh. You laughed along, and you couldn’t help but notice Charlie’s hand move to wrap more around your waist.

“Thank you for making Bella’s cake,” Edward said, his voice cool and even. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“She will,” Alice said with finality, as if she had already seen Bella’s reaction to the cake.

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but lean slightly into Charlie; he was just so warm and comfortable. He seemed a bit surprised but didn’t reject your actions. Instead, he welcomed them with a squeeze on your waist. “I was happy to do it, really.”

“Do you want a drink?” Charlie asked, leaning close to you to ask.

“Sure.” As Charlie guided you to the kitchen, you looked over your shoulder at the Cullens. “It was nice to meet you!” They all gave similar and polite responses. And then they were out of view, and you and Charlie were alone in the kitchen.

For a while, you and Charlie stayed in the kitchen, watching people pass by to talk to others or get a refreshment. This was the first time you were around Charlie in a non-professional environment. You were both nervous and ecstatic.

“So, how’d you get into, uh, baking and stuff?” Charlie asked, taking a swig of his beer. You took a sip of your Coke before responding.

“My mom, I think. Every birthday or special occasion, she always insisted on making a giant cake or cupcakes or whatever, instead of buying it from the store. I liked to help her, mainly because she’d let me eat the leftover frosting and pour the batter in the pan.” You leaned on the counter, smiling fondly at the memories that ran through your head. “Even when you’re by yourself, I think it’s really special. I dunno, that’s kind of a sappy answer, but-”

“No, no.” Charlie shook his head before smiling at you. “I think that’s really sweet.”

After a brief moment of eye contact, you both took a sip of your drinks, lifting them to your lips and setting them down simultaneously.

“Are you doing anything this Saturday?” The question surprised you and Charlie, even though Charlie had asked it. But he didn’t take it back. Instead, he waited for a response while anxiously tapping his fingers against his beer bottle.

“Maybe.” You said with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” Charlie’s fingers smoothed over his mustache, which you had noticed to be a habit of his when he was thinking. “I’ve never really baked before, I think. And you make it sound like a lot of fun. So… I dunno, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over or something, and we could make something?”

“I’d love to.” You said, butterflies filling your stomach. 

“Really?” Charlie seemed relieved by your answer, and you nodded swiftly to solidify it. “Great! Maybe this time, I can make you a coffee.”

“I’d like that a lot.” You took a sip of your Coke to contain your growing smile, but it didn’t help much. Your giddiness was infectious, Charlie feeling the exact excitement you were.

***

When Saturday came, you had an extra pep in your step. You made sure to put a slight bit more effort into your appearance before you left. You knew you didn’t have to impress Charlie in any way, but this felt like a sort of milestone. You were going to spend time with him outside of work, doing one of your favorite activities together.

“Bella’s out with Edward,” Charlie said as he let you into the house. “So we’ll have the house to ourselves.”

“Sounds good to me.” You responded, setting your bag on the kitchen counter and pulling out a recipe card.

“So, what are we making?” He asked, clapping his hands and rubbing them together as he looked over your shoulder.

“Black Forest gâteau.” You answered, looking down at the card and then up at Charlie. He seemed slightly confused, but looked like he didn’t want you to know he was confused. You laughed lightly. “Basically, a chocolate cake with cherry filling.”

“Ah.” Charlie nodded in understanding. “Sounds delicious.”

While you started taking ingredients out of your bag, Charlie made a pot of coffee for the both of you. After pouring himself a plain black coffee, he asked you what you wanted in yours. When he was finished, he handed you the warm mug, and you both simultaneously took a sip. You sighed in delight.

“Delicious.” You said, giving him a wink before turning back to your ingredients. Charlie took another gulp of coffee to hide his flusteredness before moving to stand next to you.

You guided Charlie through the recipe, working together to measure ingredients and mix them. While pouring the batter into a few cake pans, you made light conversation about your days since Bella’s party. After the pans were put in the oven to bake, you made the cherry filling to put between the layers. 

“This is really nice.” You said, slowly dropping down to sit in front of the oven to watch the cake layers bake for the next few minutes. Charlie dried his hands and walked over to you, looking down at you curiously. “Thanks for having me over.”

Charlie crouched next to you and sighed, probably because he wasn’t used to sitting on the floor. He mirrored your position, legs crisscrossed and elbows resting on his knees.

“No problem.” 

The two of you watched the cakes slowly rise through the small oven window. Basking in the quiet and comfortable moment, you couldn’t help but lean over and rest your head on Charlie’s shoulder. 

“This is really nice.” You repeated, albeit quieter, even though there was no need to whisper. Charlie’s head tilted to rest on yours, lifting his bent right leg and planting his foot on the floor to be more comfortable.

“Yeah…” Charlie’s hand drifted towards yours, and in a moment of bravery, you grabbed it and intertwined his fingers with yours. “It is.”

***

Over the next two months, you and Charlie grew closer than you ever thought possible. He still came to the bakery every day for his coffee and bagel. But almost every weekend, you’d go to each other’s house to make some kind of treat, and Charlie always insisted on making coffee for both of you. 

Getting closer to Charlie meant you also got closer to Bella. She was a bit reserved, spending most of her time with her boyfriend and his family. But you were able to make conversation with her whenever you were both at the Swan house. It was usually only a few minutes, the sweet spot where you had arrived and Bella was about to leave. But it was special to you.

You were a bit shocked when you found out that Bella and Edward were getting married in August, just under two months after they had graduated high school. Bella hadn’t even turned nineteen yet. But you knew love when you saw it, and it wasn’t like you had a say on the matter. Bella was grateful, however, for you being able to calm Charlie down when he found out about it.

When she told you she was getting married, Bella asked if you could make the wedding cake. You didn’t even think before saying yes, feeling honored that she wanted you to do it. After some talking, you both decided on a green triple-tiered cake covered in fondant flowers to resemble a meadow.

“You did amazing.” Charlie had snuck up behind you during the reception, the two of you looking at the cake you had worked so hard on.

“Thank you, bear.” You don’t really remember how Charlie’s nickname came about, but it fit him so well that you started to refer to him with the nickname more than his real name. Although you weren’t together, it was said with all the affection and love you held for him.

Music echoed throughout the Cullens’s backyard, where the wedding and reception were held. It was a beautiful forest, lit by fairy lights strung around tall trees. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Charlie asked timidly, looking at the dancefloor littered with people for a moment before returning to you. “I mean, I’m not much of a dancer. But if you want to, I-”

“I’d love to.” You cut him off with a bright smile, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the crowd.

Despite saying he wasn’t a dancer, Charlie moved well. He kept one of your hands in a gentle grip while his other was planted firmly on your waist, radiating warmth. As you listened to the music, you rested your head on his chest, sighing contently. 

“I love you, Charlie Swan,” you said softly, too relaxed and in the moment to keep your filter. You felt Charlie stiffen under you briefly before he, too, relaxed. He held your hand tighter, keeping it to his chest.

“I love you too, Y/n L/n.” You lifted your head just enough to look at him. The soft look he gave you made you weak at the knees, but you found the strength to reach up to kiss him. 

“Alice,” Bella said softly to her new sister-in-law, the two girls watching you and Charlie closely, unbeknownst to you. “Do you think this’ll last? Them, I mean.”

Alice turned to Bella and smiled before looking back at the two of you. You broke apart from the kiss and continued to dance.

“I’ve had the same vision of them since I met Y/n. They get to grow old together.”

“So Charlie will be happy? And Y/n?” Alice placed a comforting hand on Bella’s shoulder, knowing why she was asking these questions. The Cullens knew what Bella wanted, and Bella knew it would probably kill Charlie when she got what she had been chasing after for so long.

“The happiest. Whatever it is they have, it’s special. You won’t have to worry about either of them.”

Bella sighed in relief, patting Alice’s hand.

“Thanks.”

[sturnioz]

https://www.tumblr.com/sturnioz/755752342942597120/hear-me-out-hear-me-out-3some-with-fratchris

what if i said i forgot to add my emoji tag to this lol... 🕸️

heres a lil blurb (drabble????) WHAT is the difference is there even a difference between these two words?? 😣

—

you didnt intend to come in the first place. your friends were just so convincing, and the promise of maybe meeting someone and getting a good hook up out of it was the cherry on top. ditching your normal clothes for a dress, you were downing shots with a group of people you didn't recognize.

sometime in the midst of the party, you lost your friend group. a quick text showed that they were practically on the other side of the house, and who would be enough of a fool to try and push through a crowd of drunk and high teens? so you went with the flow of the party, snagging a drink here and there and finding yourself in the middle of a group of guys and girls.

some you knew. recognizable scattered faces from your classes were sprinkled among the group, and a few faces you didn't recognize. two, in particular, caught your eyes. they looked practically identical, only one with longer tufts of brown hair peeking under the hat he wore, the other had his shorter yet no less good looking. you didnt mean to stare, only realizing when you caught the eye of the one with a hat on as he quickly elbowed his twin and jerked his chin at you with a little smirk.

"oh, fuck— keep doin' that, feels s'good..." the words tumble from your mouth without realizing, chris' tongue licking a stripe up your horribly wet pussy, a little chuckle rumbling the back of his throat. rough fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, head thrown back on matt's shoulder. his ringed hands groped at your breasts, pressing little kisses down the column of your neck.

"i didnt think you'd be such a slut, baby. s'that feel good? chris loves goin' down on girls, y'know?" matt's voice was an amused ring in your ear as he played with the flesh of your boobs, all while chris lapped at your cunt like a man starved. his tongue dipped in a few times, making your hips jolt up, and a strangled cry came from you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently.

"cum for me, c'mon." chris pulled away from your cunt for just a second to talk, and then you were cumming before you really registered it, the only warning being the way your moans got louder and you tried closing your thighs in on chris' face. the attempts only being futile as his hands kept them firmly open. all the while matt's pointer and thumb finger pinched at your nipple, his lips trailing across your jawline.

and then you're being gripped at and your head is hanging off the end of the bed, eyes staring at the bulge in chris' pants and then straining your head to the smug grin on his face. familiar ringed fingers gripped your thighs, ankles being thrown haphazardly over matt's shoulders as the prodding tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. you were shaking, moaning, only to be shut up by chris' fingers suddenly in your mouth.

"shh, s'okay baby.. ohh, yeah, bet that feels good. y'ever have a cock as big as matt's up your cunt?" chris' words were teasing as he watched you shake your head and whimper around his fingers as your pussy gripped around matt's dick. from the way he was groaning and cursing under his breath, you could only guess he felt good as well.

your eyes rolled back as chris' fingers left your mouth, matt starting up a rhythm with his hips where he pulled out to his tip only to slam the whole thing back in. through the sound of skin slapping against skin, you heard rustling. then you were staring at chris' cock that he was pumping.

"open your mouth, yeahh, jus' like that.." he slowly eased it in, and you were quick to gag around it which caused a grunt from chris. he was staring at matt, the two sharing the most shit-eating grins on their faces as chris pulled out for a bit and then pushed to the back of your throat. his head threw back and his hand came to steady himself at your throat, the bulge from his dick visible as he placed his thumb on top of it with a giggle.

"god, fuck— y'feel so good baby... doin' such a good job, little whore," it was matt this time. he only moved faster once chris started roughly fucking his cock into your throat, hands reaching blindly behind you to grip at his thighs. your eyes shut and you gagged around him, spit starting to build at the corners of your mouth as you tried to relax your throat out.

their words matched their pace. rough and degrading, and you felt matt's hips stutter a few times as he grunted out a little 'cumming—' and you heard chris exhale heavily. matt's release came first, ropes of cum splattering against your gummy walls as he panted and rubbed his thumb across your clit. with a jerk of your hips and few moans around chris' cock, you were cumming again and chris was painting your throat white.

"god, you're a fucking slut." you didn't know who said that, eyes blinking open as you felt the two brother's pull out of you. soothing hands rubbed at your thighs though and then chris' thumb gathered some of the saliva stuck to your face as he giggled.

"shit, we got her kinda messy, matt. sorry, baby. we'll clean you up, 'kay?" and you're nodding slowly as you feel chris connect his lips to yours and matt press a gentle kiss to your leaking pussy.

oh my gosh was this too long???? not proofread at all btw err.. i rlly want this to be off anon but uh 😓😓 LOLL I FORGOT HOW FUN IT WAS TO WRITE SMUT 💞

— 🕸️

ok. you need to post smut rn.. like actually this instant. how much do i need to pay you ? im so serious. what the actual fuck. im telling everyone this was made for me.

[iovebarca]

One Tap - Pau Cubarsi

Authors note: sorry for dissapearing lol ive had a whole ass situationship and like other things

WC: 1500+

warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, fluff!

It all started with a random tap.

You can’t even remember where you saw his username. Maybe it popped up on your “Quick Add” list, or perhaps you had seen him tagged in one of your friend’s stories. Either way, it was a quiet night, and out of sheer boredom, you tapped “Add.” It wasn’t a big deal—you added people on Snapchat all the time. But this time was different.

This time, the guy you added was Pau.

At first, you didn’t really expect anything to come from it. He was just another random addition to your Snapchat feed—a footballer from Barcelona you vaguely recognized from TV or headlines. You sent a snap of something silly, probably your dog or whatever show you were watching, and forgot about it. But then, he snapped back.

A picture of him after training, his messy hair sticking to his forehead, with a lazy grin and a “How’s it going?” scrawled across the screen in simple white text.

That’s how it all began.

You didn’t think much of it at first—just harmless snaps exchanged throughout the day, keeping things casual. But over time, it turned into something more. The randomness of it faded, and you found yourself looking forward to his snaps. His smile, the goofy faces he’d send when he was tired after training, and the way he’d always ask about your day even if he was exhausted from practice in Barcelona, far away from your home in Córdoba.

There was an easy connection between you two, the kind that felt so natural you didn’t even realize how close you were getting. It wasn’t just about streaks anymore or sending photos of sunsets or what you were eating for dinner. It became long conversations over Snapchat, then texts, and eventually video calls late into the night.

You’d talk about anything and everything. He told you what it was like to balance life as a footballer, the highs of being on the field and the lows of dealing with pressure. You’d share stories about school, your life in Córdoba, and how you’d sneak in time to watch him play whenever you could catch the games on TV.

He’d laugh at your stories, always making you feel like you were the most interesting person in the world. And his laugh—it was addictive. It came out in bursts, sometimes making his whole face light up through the screen, and every time you heard it, you’d feel a little warmer inside.

You didn’t know exactly when your feelings shifted, but suddenly, he wasn’t just a footballer in Barcelona anymore. He was Pau, the guy who made you laugh, who would send you a picture of his breakfast with a silly caption just to brighten your day, who always seemed to know exactly what to say when you were feeling low.

It was innocent, sweet, and yet a little bittersweet too. He was there, on the other side of the screen, but also miles away.

You were in Córdoba. He was in Barcelona.

Still, you fell into a comfortable rhythm. Every morning, you’d wake up to a sleepy selfie from Pau—his hair a mess, his eyes half-closed, but always with a “Buenos días” just for you. And at night, you’d talk until one of you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore, ending the conversation with a quiet “Goodnight.”

One night, after months of this back-and-forth, Pau brought it up.

“I really want to see you,” he said softly over the phone. It was late, and you were both lying in bed, the only sound being his quiet voice and the occasional rustle of sheets as he shifted.

You felt your heart skip a beat, that warm, nervous feeling bubbling up in your stomach. You’d been thinking about it too—about what it would be like to see him in person. But it felt impossible. “I want to see you too,” you whispered, a smile pulling at your lips. “But I mean... how? You’re there, I’m here…”

“I’ll come to Córdoba,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I don’t care. I want to see you.”

You laughed softly, not entirely sure if he was serious. “Yeah? You’re just going to show up at my door?”

“Maybe I will,” he teased. “You never know.”

You brushed it off, not thinking much of it. But in the following days, Pau became a little quieter, not snapping as much, not calling as often. He mentioned being busy with training and travel, and you tried not to worry. Still, you missed him, and the distance felt heavier without your daily chats.

A few days later, you were home alone, lounging on the couch and flipping through your phone. The day had been long, and you felt restless, wishing Pau would call or at least send one of his usual goofy snaps to cheer you up.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. Not a snap—your doorbell.

Confused, you got up and made your way to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone, and when you peeked out of the window, your heart stopped.

Pau was standing on your doorstep.

It didn’t seem real at first. Your brain struggled to catch up with what your eyes were seeing. He was just standing there, hands shoved awkwardly into the pockets of his jacket, looking a little nervous but with that familiar, lopsided grin on his face. He gave a small wave, as if he wasn’t sure what else to do.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft but filled with that quiet confidence you knew so well.

You stood there, speechless, for what felt like forever. How was he here? He was supposed to be in Barcelona. Was this a dream? It had to be a dream.

But it wasn’t. This was real. He was real.

“Pau…” you finally whispered, your voice shaky. “What… how…”

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I told you I’d show up at your door.”

Before you could say anything else, you threw your arms around him. The second you felt his solid, warm presence against you, everything else melted away. He hugged you back immediately, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist like he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

It was the first time you’d ever felt him, really felt him, and it was overwhelming. His heartbeat against your chest, the way he smelled like fresh air and the faint hint of cologne, the warmth of his embrace—it all felt like everything had fallen into place. He held you like he didn’t want to let go, and for the longest time, neither of you moved, just standing there in each other’s arms.

You finally pulled back, just enough to look up at him. His face was inches from yours, his eyes soft and searching as he studied you. He looked nervous, almost shy, like he couldn’t quite believe he was really standing in front of you.

“You’re actually here,” you breathed, still trying to wrap your head around it.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “I told you I couldn’t wait anymore.”

And then, before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was soft at first, tentative, like neither of you were sure how to handle the moment. But when your lips met his, everything just clicked. His hands cradled your face as he kissed you, his touch gentle but firm, pulling you closer as if he needed to feel you, to know you were real.

The kiss was everything you had imagined and more—sweet, slow, a little awkward in the best way possible. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly as his lips moved softly against yours, your heart pounding in your chest. It was a kiss that felt like the culmination of months of waiting, of longing, of wanting something more than just a screen between you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. His eyes were soft, his lips still curled into that small, shy smile you adored.

“That was… better than I thought it’d be,” he whispered, his voice low and a little shaky, like he was just as overwhelmed as you were.

You laughed softly, your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his jacket. “Same.”

He laughed too, the sound light and warm, and suddenly, the nervousness that had been hanging between you disappeared. You felt at ease with him, like you had always known you would.

“So,” you asked, smiling up at him, “how long are you staying?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” he said with a grin, his arms tightening around your waist. “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”

“Good,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him again, “because I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

And as you stood there, wrapped up in each other, everything felt right. The distance didn’t matter anymore. It was just you and Pau, together at last, and you knew this was only the beginning of something incredible.

[randomestdweller]

Hi!:) could I please request yandere Gojo with the prompt "you drive me fucking crazy!"?

I hope you have a good day/night<3

A/N: This took a hella long time so I’m sorry about that ❤️. I hope u like it regardless. I didn’t put nsfw cuz I wasn’t sure if u wanted it, so sorry if u did. When I was writing, I legit almost forgot to add the prompt and I was already 2000 words deep. I got it in regardless tho. This felt so weird making a story and not adding the smut tag. LOL this isn't proofread but I will get to it very soon, I just wanted to get this out. Nevertheless, my requests are still open!

Always another way

Warnings: Delusional Gojo, financially dependent reader, breaking & entering (is it really if it’s his apartment?), misogyny (if u really squint tho), blood, LMK if i missed anything.

When you wanted something, Gojo always got it for you, regardless of what it was or the price. 

A new phone? Done. 

Want a vacation? Planned and booked. 

Need your bills paid? He’ll settle everything with the creditors. 

Need space from him because he was acting unreasonably? 

That was something he could only try to do.

It wasn’t Gojo’s fault your coworker was flirting with you, and he happened to see it! It doesn’t matter that he’s gay and acts that way with everyone! You’re Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend— and future wife— so when someone acted inappropriately with you, as the man, Gojo had to step up. 

So what, the guy doesn't talk to you anymore?  it’s not like you actually care about him! 

Wait, you care? He was your friend? 

As if! Gojo was doing what’s right for your future together. 

Huh? You want Gojo to give you back the key to your– his apartment? The one that he”s been paying for? The same one that cost him extra since you wanted a newest home on the bottom floor? 

Fine, maybe some space will do you two good anyways, as they say, “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” 

Gojo did try to give you space, only rewatching your instagram stories twice. Texting you once every few hours, things of that nature. 

But now you’re not returning his calls or texts at all! And Gojo, being the good boyfriend he is, has come to visit you. 

~

Without a key, Gojo would have to actually knock on your door as opposed to barging in, as he had become accustomed too. A wandering feeling of regret at not making a secret copy of it for emergencies, such as the present, traveled through him.

Gojo bitterly shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he waited for you to come to the door. The night chill had already begun to send goosebumps up and down his arms while simultaneously working its way down his spine. 

Maybe you didn’t hear him knock the first time? Just as Gojo had braced his hand to pound a little, ok a lot harder, on the aluminum, you sounded from the other side. 

“Who is it?” His fist, and shoulders dropped as he let out a breath, you sounded the same way you did a few days ago. Gojo burrowed his hands deep into his pockets as he thought of what to say. 

Obviously, he’d announce himself but he needed something more. Something to make you open up and allow him inside. 

“It’s me,” Why would Gojo actually say his name? You’d recognize his voice without any further explanation. In fact, you might just joyfully swing the door and fly into his arms. 

And Gojo was right, you had heard his voice and knew who stood before you. But what he had miscalculated was your reaction to his presence. Your hand, that had once rested on the doorknob to unlock it, retracted and found its way back to your side to clench your pajama pants. You took your time to glance at the clock in your living room before responding. 

“It’s 11 at night Gojo, what do you want?” 

You heard a faint chuckle from the opposite side of the door, or you think you did, believing Gojo was crazy enough to laugh at you, wasn’t on your bucket list. Your eyes dragged back to the comfy couch you had just been pulled from. 

“I’m here to check on you. You stopped returning my texts.” 

What? You looked back to the door. He couldn’t actually be serious! 

“I stopped replying because how many more ways can I answer ‘how are you?’ in a single day?” 

You didn’t intend on saying anymore, but with Gojo’s silence you felt urged to continue, “we’re on a break anyway.” 

Another pregnant pause followed. 

“A break?” Gojo’s voice was lower now, almost, almost, almost threatening, “I thought you wanted space?” 

“A break, space, same thing.” You felt compelled to step away from the door now but your feet kept you rooted to the spot, as you anxiously awaited his next move. 

A sudden drumming on the large panel window next to your front window made your heart hammer harder in your chest. 

“Really? I never knew that, if that’s the case then why did you want a break?” 

Eyes still trained on the window, your knees buckled slightly, your body was demanding sleep from you and you wanted to give in, even if you slumped against the wooden floor beneath you. 

“Is this what you came to talk about? I’m too tired for this,” we also talked about it already, almost slipped from your mouth but you gratefully bit your tongue in enough time. You wanted Gojo to leave, you didn’t want to piss him off. 

In your half awake state, your eyes drifted to the floor and you didn’t hear the window creak as Gojo tried to open it. 

Good thing you always locked your windows, Gojo mentally commended you as his knuckles beat on the window instead. 

At the louder sound, your eyes narrowed to focus on the window again, you could see the outline of Gojo’s lanky body on the other side of the window, you doubted he could see yours because of how dark your apartment was. Nonetheless, you suppressed a shudder when you remember his all seeing eyes. 

“I’m tired too, can you let me in so I can sleep on the couch? It’s been a long day.” Gojo’s voice was his usual, pouty tone as he asked. He was your ex, not an ax murder, and you knew of Gojo’s rigorous schedule, a thread of empathy in your heart pushed you to allow him in. 

With amazing body to eye coordination, you managed to make it to the door, and as your hand toyed with the lock, you unconsciously looked at Gojo again. You saw the motion of his hand still hitting the window—even though he definitely heard you move towards the door—, you saw the tips of his hair sway with the breeze, your eyes trailed a bit further down and could make out the face splitting grin on his held. 

Your body, physically recoiled from the door, your feet caught on each other and landed you in a heap on the floor. 

You’d seen that smile before, when you would, as you always did, apologize first after an argument. Gojo’s body language would be inviting but his expression always made you feel like he won, and worst of all, that he knew it. 

From outside your apartment, Gojo called your name, the air of calm he once retained now gone, replaced by dramatic panic. 

“I just— I just fell,” deciding to stand again was one thing,  but figuring out how to get rid of Gojo was another, “I think it’s best if you leave.” 

Truth be told, you weren’t one to beat around the bush. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The deafening sound of the doorknob rattling for a split second, rang out in your ears, after a pause, so still you could make out the TV noises from your bedroom, it began to shake violently, “let me in and I’ll help you, okay?” 

“No, I’m okay, please, leave,” a pathetic nut lodged itself in your throat, you had hoped you would have to stoop so low as to beg. And to actually do so, left your stomach with a churning feeling.

“Let me see your fine and I’ll leave,” Gojo’s voice was mocking, and while the shaking slowed, it didn’t stop. 

“Believe me, I’m okay!” 

“No I don’t think I will,” the jangling handle stopped for a minute as Gojo seemed to mull over something. 

Maybe he’d leave! 

And you were right! 

“Is there someone else in there?” Spiky white hair came into view from the window again,  before the rest of his head followed. It wouldn’t have been unnerving, it really wouldn’t have been, if the movement was followed by his body but it wasn’t. Just his head, and some of his neck, was visible. 

Now you seriously entertained the idea of him being able to see you. 

“No, just me here.” 

You physically reacted, a light thud rang out in the apartment as your palm connected with your forehead, probably not the best idea to tell your psycho ex you were home alone. You’d seen one to many horror films, to know this is how they usually went; hook, line, and sinker. 

A simple hum was all Gojo graced you with before he turned on his heel and walked off. 

His figure trailed off, down the stairs of your complex, and presumably to whoever drove him here (let’s be real, it’s Ijichi). Your legs buckled, then altogether collasaped from underneath you. The heavy tenison in your stomach must have been pressing down on your bladder as it began to scream for relief. 

You almost, almost, wet yourself then and there. When your arms shook as you tried to stand, you nearly gave up and let your body fully relax, on the floor, the cool tile soothing, the heated ache in your head. But you couldn’t, the only thing you could do was use the restroom then go to bed and sleep the night away.

The walk to bathroom was long, longer than normal. Your legs moved sluggishly over to the room, before you practically fell onto the toilet. Hunching over, you cradled your head in your hands, the steady sound your pee kept you lucid while you rested. 

Time seemed to slow while you relieved yourself. The moment was all the serenity you needed to feel safe again. 

Your peace was shattered when you were jotled up from the toilet. You hurriedly finished using it as you heard glass crashing into onto your living room floor, the same place you had just been. 

This time around, your walk was faster, as if your limbs were switched on from adrenaline. You stumbled to avoid the sharp shards when you entered the room. Almost losing your footing again, you physically recoiled as you saw white hair illuminated by the complex lights. It took mere seconds to put together a full picture of what had transpired. 

The window that Gojo had at one time stood behind was now broken, with pieces scattered on the floor and some larger chunks still embedded in the panel. The TV sounds long since drowned out by Gojo’s heavy breathing as he climbed into the window. 

He braced his hands between the serrated glass that remained on the ledge and heaved his way through, one leg at a time. Some fragments cut the fabric on Gojo’s arms, one particularly large chunk, cut his skin. Whether he felt the gash or not, blood trickled down his arm and onto the floor. 

Once Gojo was fully through, you were finally able to see him, the moment was still while you sized each other up. His eyes were still hidden but the rest of his face was just as unsettling. The lopsided smirk that played at his lips would have be comforting under any other circumstance. Truly. 

If you’d seen him tomorrow with the same knowing grin, you might have felt secure. But that wasn’t this, and this was now, and in this second, the smile was disturbing. 

How could he even smile right now? You wanted so badly to wipe the belittling look off his face with a nice, firm slap. Because you and he both knew, he wasn’t smiling because he was happy, Gojo was smiling because he’d gotten what he wanted; entry into your house. 

The silence was once again broken by something clattering to the floor, right out of Gojo’s hand. You would have laughed if the item had been anymore ironic, a large rock fell next to his feet, and into the steadily growing pool of his blood. 

How cliche. Maybe the movies were so repetitive because the perpetrators never did anything new. 

You hadn’t anymore time to dwell on how the much the dramatic flare fit Gojo when he uttered your name, low and dangerous. Even though you expected the tone, it still found a way to shudder down your body, too sudden and forceful to supress it. 

Gojo didn’t wait. He stepped to you, and reflexively, you stepped back. 

A faint giggle escaped his lips before he moved again, he treated it like a game. Each step you both took, his grin grew more playful, wider, meaner. 

It stretched across his face at a frightening rate. 

It was almost handsome how the sharp part of his teeth peaked through his lips. 

Almost. 

In the reality you lived in, it reminded you of your situation. He was the predator and you the prey. 

Before you knew it, your knees buckled against the armrests for the couch. The shock of it made you fall back and onto the settee as a little squeak tumbled from your lips. 

Just as you had braced your arms to stand up, Gojo pounced on you. His face sat so close yours his nose was mere centimeters away from touched yours. 

How bearable the moment could’ve be if his whole body weight was crushing you. When you moved to kick Gojo, you realized his own legs had landed inside yours. 

You both must have noticed at the same time because he laughed, really laughed, at your predicament. Gojo took his time, lowering his full body weight onto you as a means to hold you down. HIs arms slithered under your midsection to wrap around your waist, his hold pressed you against him further. 

“I’ve been wanting to hold you again,” his chest was hot against yours, his breaths still shallow but it was definitely deeper then before. It wasn’t comforting, it wasn’t sweet or tender how it has once been. It certainly wasn’t romantic how his blood splattered across your face while he brushed your hair from your face. 

“You’re crying?” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement. You knew, Gojo knew you were crying, because had collected a stray tear from your waterbed with his thumb and placed the salty liquid into his mouth. 

“You’re fucking insane.” 

Gojo lifted his upper body of yours and adjusted you both to were he now sat with your legs underneath his, “I’m insane, really?” 

His head reared back as he released a roaring laugh. During his momentarily lapse, your realized your arms were no longer trapped below his. With the movements of a wild animal, you lunged at him. Fists ready to unleash your bent of fury, but he caught you. His bigger hands grabbed your wrists with force, care enough not to bruise, but hard enough to send a message. 

The warning was clear, you couldn’t fight it, all attempts would be thwarted with an equal amount of power. Even using your full strength to struggle out of his grasp didn’t yield any results. Gojo at lower effort was you at your full capacity. 

“I’m fucking insane, right?” Being unable to see his eyes was almost just as bad as being able to see them. At least you could try to look into his blue iries and try to remember the Gojo you once knew. But the harsher blue, almost black, fabric you were met with, was not as comforting. Not as human. Not as tolerable. It truly was nothing. 

Gojo shifted to hold both of your wrist in one hand, as you forced your upperbody back down to meet the couch once more. The more you squirmed, the harder his grip became, a sign of his wearing patience. 

“You drive me fucking crazy.” Once you were plush with the couch Gojo squeezed your wrists especially tight, before letting go. Another warning. 

Like you were a child, like he had just scolded you, like you were his student. 

“This is all your fault,” Fear traveling down your cheeks in the form of tears, mixing with his own blood to leave pink streaks across your face. 

The room felt suffocating both physically and emotionally. It was all too much. His breathe on your face, the metallic scent of his blood hanging in the air, the TV still going in your bedroom. 

Gojo’s next actions were deliberate. Faux positive radiated from him staticky waves which were almost hard to resist. He leaned down a bit further, his hair brushing against your nose while he whispered to you. 

“But it’s fine,” Gojo’s tone was sickly sweet now, the drastic shift in his tone made you freeze. Any thoughts of fighting back were taken from your head and stomped on, “you won’t be able to make a mistake like this again.” 

[edgeray]

(That reminds me, I've always thought about it, but would you guys like a post where I recommend my favorite Arlecchino fics from other authors for you starving simps ^^?)

About this yes sure!

Arlecchino x Reader Fic Recommendations (From Tumblr Writers)

by the way, these fics are in no particular order of what I like the most, these are all just my favorites that I wanted to share (and of course, none of them from me). This will include series, oneshots, headcanons, blurbs, drabbles, etc. most of these come from my tag #edgeray.reblogs. All of these are SFWs, but I could do a NSFW rec list too if someone wants it.

I forgot to add @chucapybara in my last reommendation post of writers T^T, so forgive me. chucapybara does not accept requests either, so do not request from her! For this reason, I'm going to put her works here first. She has a few more works besides the two listed below, but those are my favorites from her <33. Check her out, her writing is so gorg 😍

monsters

soft mornings with arlecchino [f!reader]

Now to the other recommendations. The writers which I recommended in the prior post will be put first out of convenience, and only from writers that do have a fair amount of works (it's hard to pick one favorite out from a few works ^^, hence why).

bring me the sun by @servalisms | short, fluff

phantom!arle (fem! reader) by @megistusdiary | short

fathers day arlecchino by @knavesflames | oneshot, fluff

hanahaki!reader x arlecchino pt. 1 | pt. 2 by @aetherdoesthings | oneshot series, hurt/comfort

bassist! arle and photographer!reader by @liliewrites | oneshot, fluff

Red Sky at Night, Shepherd's Delight by @jessamine-rose | headcanons

heart-to-heart by @vulpe-fox | headcanon(?)/oneshot, emotional rollercoaster

affections by @abros1an | short, hurt/comfort

Buried angels and that odd wish to live. pt. 1 | pt.2 by @deathbxnny | oneshot series, hurt/comfort

hollow by @kana-de | oneshot, angst

Arlecchino being comforted by her s/o by @eluxcastar | oneshot, hurt/comfort

One of Repetition by @eluxcastar | oneshot, angst

and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest masterlist by @thecoffeelovingfreak | oneshot series, emotional rollercoaster

possessive arlecchino w suggestive fluff by @queenphanessa | short, suggestive

umm hopefully that was enough because this took me a few hours to compile lol. enjoy some of my faves.