#he looks really worried in those new stills

[littlcdarlin]

dbf!Joel headcanons

warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)

note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!

He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it

Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation

He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you

When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them

He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much

He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you

He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you

He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s

When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him

He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately

He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him

When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true

Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep

He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger

During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable

It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you

He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him

Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.

The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.

He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good

He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want

When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel

He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour

He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night

As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close

He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone

He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

(Thunderbolts) I feel like it would be really funny. There's a x reader where Bucky had a wife, and she just walks in during one of their meetings, holding their kids and like "where the hell were you? All I need a frozen pizza and some diaper wipes."

And alexie teaches one of the kids their first word but it's not mama or dada. It's Gin.

Bucky is pulled away quickly for a mission, leaving you holding the babies...and worrying about your husband.

Warnings: 18+ for language, domestic fluff, Thunderbolts!Bucky before the film, Dad!Bucky, reader likes pineapple on her pizza, I feel this is something I need to warn for. I don't really write kids in fics normally and I've never written Alexi before so…please be kind! Rated F for fluff and K for kids.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! Not going to lie I'm nervous writing anything about Thunderbolts before it's out but Thunderbolts!Bucky does live rent free in my head. It's not exactly as you requested but I hope you still enjoy it anyway!

Padruga - female friend in Russian

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

Being married to Bucky Barnes was everything you'd dreamed about since the first time he'd strolled into your boutique and nervously asked if you had any gifts suitable for ex-assassins with limited wardrobes.

After a few hours searching for items he'd bought a new jacket for himself, black leather of course, and a smaller woman's jacket. Your heart had sunk, of course there was a woman already in his life. Tall, handsome, a rakish mop of hair flopping into his piercing blue eyes, she was a lucky lady.

Bucky had looked at you, those blue eyes looking straight into your soul, "it's for my sister, sort of, well, she's not my real sister, but she's like a - it's not for …I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh, good." And then you kicked yourself for sounding so stupid. Bucky had given you the widest smile and written his number on a scrap of paper.

"Call me." He'd winked.

It was becoming harder to appreciate your luck when you were covered in bath water, probably the only shower you were likely to get unless Grant went to sleep quickly.

Bucky had been called out to an emergency meeting on his way to the store and as much as you loved his dedication and hard work you really, really, needed him to come home with the groceries.

You were running low on literally everything and you knew eventually you'd have to do a full shop, but now just the essentials would do. You couldn't have a repeat of lunch, hunting down some crackers, cheese and cucumbers sticks.

Distracted for a moment, Grant lined his rubber ducks up on the edge of the tub, splashing them in one by one.

"Look Mama!" He said, gleefully, "'dis one is Daddy!" He took the duck, left wing coloured in black, and made it dive into the heap of bubbles surrounding him.

"Well done, Sweetie!" You cooed, turning away quickly to hide a yawn and checking your phone.

Get your ass home or I'm ordering the pizza in instead

From the nice place

Get me some fries?

No

and I'm getting pineapple

Doll cmon now youre being cruel

It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep his work secret, but he would normally be able to say when he was coming home. Perhaps it was really important.

Grant had just gone to sleep when the doorbell rang and you cringed, setting your pineapple heavy pizza down on the coffee table and pausing your movie.

There was a familiar silhouette in the frosted glass -

"Alexi, is everything okay?" The door swang wide open before you could even reach it. It had definitely been locked, but it was hard to keep any of the team out for long.

"Padruga! I am returning the small one." A very familiar mop of hair popped over Alexi's shoulder, face covered in cookie crumbs. For all that Grant was like you, Natalia was all Bucky, soft curls and sparkling blue eyes.

"Mommy!" She jumped from Alexi, landing heavily in your arms, "we went to Dairy Queen and I had two ice creams and one of those ice creams was vanilla and the other was choca-chol-choco-brown-extreme-blizzard-extreme."

You turned a cold eye on Alexi, "I thought we said park, dinner, home?"

"Ah how can I resist to spoiling the daughter of the Winter Soldier, if she wants extreme blizzard milk drinks I cannot say no." He shrugged, an indulgent smile peaking out of his beared.

"God," you rubbed a hand over your face. "She'll never sleep - Petal, can you go and get your pjs on please, I'll come up and help you do your teeth."

Natalia climbed the stairs quickly, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a four year old.

"Do you know what's going on with Bucky? I expected him home by now."

Alexi looked concerned, but didn't immediately start a tirade about the strength of the Winter Solider, so you felt reassured it couldn't be too serious.

"He is discussing planning with Wilson and his comrades. I have advised against it but he trusts the Captain and so we do too."

"We?"

"Yelena has been very helpful and is talking to the rest of the team. We will have a plan soon."

"So you're heading out for something?"

"Yes. I am sorry."

"Fuck."

"In Russian you can say, yebat, Mommy." Natalia's little voice floated over from the hallway and you cringed. Everytime she came back from spending time with Alexi or Yelena she seemed to have learnt a new Russian word, which wouldn't bother you, except they were almost always curse words.

"I'm all for her being bilingual, but could you maybe teach her how to say her favourite colour or something." You grouched.

"Sorry."

Alexi took a slice of pizza and left the address of the current discussions on a scrap of paper stuck to the fridge before vanishing in to the night again with the promise that you could "call anytime."

It had been two days since Bucky left on his bike to, "have a quick chat with the team, baby, don't worry, I'll swing by the store on the way home." And you were starting to move from slightly annoyed to a see-saw of furious and anxious.

He'd text a few times to let you know they hadn't left yet but the situation was complex, he'd be home very briefly before they left, just to see you and the kids, but other than that he was holed away for the foreseeable.

One week after Bucky left and you were truly stir crazy. There was only so many times you could have the same conversation with the other parents at the park before you lost your mind.

You really didn't care if Timmy or Charlie or whoever had cut their first tooth. All you cared about was what your husband was doing somewhere, anywhere, and when he'd be home safe in your arms.

It was 2am when the call came in, he was home, safe and unharmed, at the abandoned airstrip twenty miles past the town border. Yelena and Alexi were with him, also safe.

Grant was a heavy, floppy, weight in your arms as you buckled him into his car seat. But Natalia was wide awake and excited, clutching her bear to her chest and staring at the street lights in awe.

"I can't wait to see Daddy," she sighed, snuggling the top of the bear's head. You made sure to put his cologne on it, every day, while she was out at kindergarten, the same way you sprayed his pillow. So you'd both have a memory. Grant's blankie was the same and, still asleep, he pressed his chubby cheek into the cotton.

"I can't wait either, Petal, we'll be there soon."

You drove through the night, the darkness closing in around your car, streetlamps dwindling and stars appearing as you made it out of the town and towards the airstrip. There was a single plane looking almost abandoned, its tail at an angle, on the landing strip. But there was the faint glow of artificial light under the door of a metal supply shed beyond it.

You slowed the car, expecting there to be someone at the gate to the airstrip before remembering it had been closed a few years previously and there would be no one to care. It must have been a rough mission, to come back like this rather than through a real airport. It was normally Sam who let you know about his return and you could collect him from the big airport in the city or he'd appear in the night from some taxi or hire car.

You double checked to make sure the doors were locked on the car, the children dozing in the back. Grant was drooling on his blankie and Natalia, despite her assertion that she would "definitely certainly mostly stay awake until Daddy, Mommy" was bumping her head on the side of her car seat every time her eyes closed.

You stopped the car opposite the shed and flashed your lights, ready to drive off if they didn't flash back.

It went dark, then light, dark…light and the door opened. You put the handbrake on and jumped from the car, leaving the door flung open in your haste, and raced towards Bucky.

He dropped his duffle bag and swung you into his arms, latching around your waist and lifting you easily. His lips were chapped and there was the tang of blood when you pulled away from a cut on his upper lip. You cupped his face in your hands and inspected him as best you could in just the headlights.

"You're okay." You sighed, breathing him in, burying your face in his neck and squeezing your legs around his waist.

"I'm alright Doll, don't worry about me. Are you okay?" His voice was rough with sleep, his cheeks chapped with cold and he smelt faintly of fire which was disconcerting. But he was here, safe, holding you close.

"Glad you're back, baby." You smiled, kissing him again. It was amazing, even after all these years, ever though he'd been on a hundred missions. It still gave you butterflies every time he came back, not just that he returned at all, but that he came back to you.

Behind you came the sound of little fists banging on the windows.

"Daddy!" Natalia shouted and Bucky carried you, giggling, back to the car.

With practiced ease he unbuckled both children and held them close.

"My little monsters, have you been good for Mommy?"

"Yes!"

"No!" Grant giggled.

"Sounds about right." Bucky looked over Natalia's head and smiled again, soft and slow.

"I'm glad you're back." You repeated, "but if you ever take two weeks to 'pop to the store' again we're over." You wagged your finger teasingly.

"Don't worry, I got everything we needed." Bucky carried the children back to his duffle, shuffling them around so he could lumber back with everything in his arms. "Look in there."

You unzipped the bag and inside - a pack of wipes, a bottle of laundry soap and two frozen pizzas.

[reignpage]

Light Show

Summary: in which alien!reader and Gojo are getting to know each other Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: talks of nudity, fluff, a little sexual tension, not proofread

Day 3

“No.” Satoru tuts. “That’s not for eating.”

Hands on his hips, he sighs. 

You’re currently gnawing on a wooden spoon you found in his kitchen drawer, fully clothed in a baggy shirt and sweatpants (his, of course). Before, you were gnawing on one of his shoes, then it was the tv remote, and then it was his phone. Apparently, your kind explores with their mouth. He’s just glad you don’t have more than one of those; he’ll have teeth marks on everything at this rate. 

Tilting your head, you drop the spoon, and it falls on the counter with a clank. You mull your thoughts a little longer before you ask, “No?”

“That’s right,” he confirms with a nod.

“No eating?”

Your Japanese is coming along great, within three days you two have learnt how to communicate, albeit not by much. You’re not going to be discussing current events or the secrets of the universe any time soon, but at least you can understand him when he says ‘no biting’ when you come across something new.

For the most part though, you’re pretty normal. Satoru was surprised you can eat human food like bread and eggs, but pleasantly so — the alternative could have very well been human flesh. You seem to have a circadian rhythm (and yes, he did have to google what that is) because you sleep and wake up the same time he does. 

Over breakfast, he teaches you new words like ‘hungry’ and ‘sleepy’ so you can communicate your needs, and at night he explains movie plots to you. In your first night, he made sure you knew how to dress yourself, though you do still go to him to tie up his way too large sweats on your hips – he needs to buy you your own clothes but oddly enough, he feels no rush. It was kind of funny how you hissed at all sorts of things like the toaster, the kettle, his phone and the sound of footsteps outside his door. But he knew that to reduce the risk of you smashing his beloved coffeemaker on is shiny floor he'd have to teach you what was safe and what it isn’t. 

And it wasn’t easy. 

At times, it felt like teaching his students to keep their lives was so much easier. But you’re so earnest and eager to learn, he couldn’t even get frustrated when you took apart his speaker and tried to swallow a spring. 

The thing he’d been putting off teaching you, however, was how to shower. At first, he debated whether to even broach the topic; it’s inappropriate for him to be the one to teach you. But he also doesn’t have many girl friends who’d entertain the idea of harbouring a literal alien.

He was also aware of the possibility that aliens don’t bathe the way humans do. Maybe you simply need to, perhaps, press a hidden button on your body and BAM! Brand, spanking new.

Testing that theory out, you followed him into the bathroom and watched as he turned the shower on, fully intending to lecture you on the history of bathing. But, pleasantly and shockingly, you’re already stripped and stepping in, water beading down your supple body, dipping between the valleys of your breast and flowing down where he really shouldn’t be looking. 

Satoru cleared his throat and left you to do what you needed to do. He totally did not have to adjust as he stood outside, worried you might slip or turn the wrong knob and burn your perfect skin.

Much to his chagrin however, since then, he’s been struggling with teaching you not to drop your clothes at the sight of running water. When he turns the tap on to wash the dishes, he doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re already untying the knot of his sweatpants. He can’t even close his eyes and avoid the sight of your body. 

Curse his Six Eyes!

He’s working on teaching you a sense of decency and shame when it comes to nudity, but it feels wrong to do so when there’s not really anything wrong with being naked in front of him, right?

Your new friend would never take advantage of you, and he’d certainly never let anyone else in here before you’ve learnt enough things to stay safe and become independent, and that’ll be far, far in the future. So, for now, he’ll just settle for shaking his head and giving you a disappointed look and hope that’s get the message across eventually.

Apart from that, you guys have been getting along very well. You watch movies together and point and laugh at the things you like and then tuck your face in his chest at the things you don’t. When he orders food in, you follow behind, brows furrowed as you eye the delivery man like he’s a threat. 

Satoru knows he should tell you off for being aggressive with strangers, but with the policemen and hazmat suit guys still surveying the area, he’s just happy you have any survival instincts at all. Especially because you haven’t manifested any superpowers like in the movies. 

It would have been so cool if you could, like, move things with your mind or had super strength. So far, however, you’ve just been a normal, slightly disoriented, possibly amnesiac woman. 

A beautiful, amnesiac woman but that’s neither here nor there. 

Peeking through the curtains, he eyes all the people crowding in the parking lot where the crater you created is taped off. They’ve got vans full of doohickeys and weird gadgets, testing this and that, and though he was able to take you from there to his place too fast for the CCTV to pick up, he knows it’s not going to take long before they link it back to him. 

So, reluctantly, he calls Ijichi and informs him that he needs to pull his strings and get all the government interference waved away. Thankfully, experienced and efficient as he is, he asks minimal questions and Satoru’s able to get away with simply humming what sounds like an agreement when he asks if it was a curse. 

“Toru?” You pull at his sleeve, confusion marring your face. “Leaving again?”

That’s the thing about being Gojo Satoru: he’s always needed. Once or twice a day, he’s called away on a mission and expected to work his magic with a cursed technique here and a cursed technique there, blah blah blah. The last two days however, he’s taken a faster approach to those tedious things — with a simple wave of his fingers, the curses are evaporating, and the world is safe once more. No more of his silly joshing around, not when he has someone waiting for him at home. 

Regardless of how fast he’s able to exorcise the curses though, he still has to leave you. And the sad look on your face makes him wish he didn’t have to. Every time, he only ever has one thought in his head: is twenty-eight too young an age to retire?

“Yeah, sorry, E.”

“Stay?”

Satoru shakes his head and sighs out, “Can’t. But I’ll be back in an hour, okay? Then we can watch a movie.”

You smile at that. Nodding your head, you let go of his sleeve and jump onto the sofa with a bounce. In your tight grip is the remote, you’re cradling it like it’s the most precious thing in the world, head tilting and eyes blinking at your new friend. 

“Cute,” he mutters under his breath. Patting your head, he shakes up the hair there and reminds you, “Don’t open the door for anyone.”

Satisfied with your blink, he teleports away, leaving your smile dropping and legs folding, tucked to your chest whilst you hug them. Rhythmic vibrations thrum in your chest, whirring as you wait. 

He always comes back.

————

It’s nightfall when he returns, manifesting in the living room, in the exact same spot he disappeared from. The apartment is flooded in darkness, light dust settling in the air, but he finds your sleeping form with ease. 

You’re all curled up, the remote squeezed in your death grip, and your head lolled between your knees. His shirt is slipping down a shoulder, and his hand is reaching to fix it before he could realise the silliness of his actions — the last thing any lost, sleeping woman needs is a man touching them in the blanket of the night. 

He may be an idiot, but he’s not stupid. 

Satoru’s been sleeping on the couch whilst you’ve taken shelter in his bed, which is not ideal since his ridiculously long body far exceeds the length of his own furniture, and he makes a mental note to buy a longer one. That being said, he doesn’t grumble when he grabs a blanket and fluffs up a pillow, bidding you a goodnight. 

This is the first time, therefore, he’s ever seen you sleep, and it is the most curious thing. He has discovered one other thing that sets you apart from his human peers, even amidst the smooth skin, the eyes, nose, lips, mouth etc etc: your skin lights up when you’re sleeping. 

There are waves of blue light pulsing beneath the surface, flowing up your arms and disappearing under his shirt. And he’s so painfully curious to know if the rest of your body glows like that, if he’ll see that insanely fascinating blue light rising up your legs, if he can trace their paths and find their origin. It’s not the brightest light, in fact it’s barely perceptible, but Gojo Satoru has impeccable eyesight and it’s as clear as day. 

“I’ve found myself my very own night light,” he muses, thoroughly entertained. 

Taking slow and careful steps, he stands before you. He’s debating whether he should just leave you there, all comfortable and emitting light, or if he should wake you up. Maybe you’ll get a crick in your neck from the way your head is bent down. Maybe that’s not even possible for you. 

Maybe the right thing to do would be to carry you to bed, but it’s still early in the evening and you were both looking forward to watching a movie together. He didn’t work hard for hours dealing with ugly little things to not be rewarded. With an impatient huff, Satoru pats your head, gently jostling you awake.

“Hey, E,” he whispers. “Wakey wakey.”

You’re groggy and all confused when you lift your head up. Satoru’s lip twitches in amusement at the faint hum of light on your face, fading as you step back into consciousness. 

Despite the heaviness of lethargy weighing you down, you still manage to smile and gaze up at him in the dark. Huskily, you ask, “Toru back?”

“Toru home, E. Can you say that for me? Home? Home.”

Tasting the sound in your mouth, you mimic the opening and closing of his. “Huh um.”

He shakes his head, fingers pinching your chin with a thumb pulling at your bottom lip. Guiding your movements, he sounds it out with you. “No. Try again. Home. Hohmuh.”

You clutch his wrist with both hands, pinkie slipping under the sleeve, and he has to fight to keep his focus on your lips, soft and plump. He hadn’t even realised that he had bent down or that his face is far closer to you than it should be, but he doesn’t move. 

“Toru. Home,” you parrot back to him. 

Satoru grins. “Well done, E! Yes, Toru home! I’m home.”

“Toru home!” You grin back. And with agile strength, you’re wrestling him onto the couch with you, his gangly limbs flailing in the air as he falls with a laugh, harmonising with your excited giggles.

His head lands on your lap and his legs dangle over the armrest. Within seconds, you’re expertly switching the TV on and picking a movie that must have caught your eye before. It’s one he’s watched already, and he can’t decide if he likes it enough to rewatch it, but he knows better than to argue with you about movie choices since, on the first night he showed you E.T and likened you to the wrinkly creature, you tried to bite his arm off. 

Thank goodness, once more, for his infinity. 

“Alright, alright. No need to be all violent,” he playfully complains, “it hurts my ego when you easily throw me around like a rag doll.”

As the movie drones on, Satoru remains lying there, eyes spending more time scanning your face than the screen. In these three days, he’s developed a routine that feels so imbedded in his bones he can’t remember how he spent his days before.

His once quiet house has turned into a messy, chaotic home where most of his belongings have teeth marks, and his clothes are scattered all over the floor. It used to feel so big, so empty no matter how many fancy, shiny things he’s filled it up with but now he thinks, maybe his place is too small for the both of you, maybe it’s time he considered a proper house. 

One with a garden so you can run around, and you can have fresh air instead of being all cooped up here, hidden away. 

He wonders where you used to live before, whether it’s very similar to his humble Earthly abode or if it’s completely different and magnificent and captivating the way he imagines your world must be to produce you. 

He wishes he could ask and receive an answer. By all that is heavenly, he wishes he could see into that head and know all your thoughts, to be inside and feel you, unrestricted by a language barrier, undivided by what feels like a whole galaxy between you. In the depths of the night, he stares up at the ceiling, overwhelmed with a sense of injustice at the realisation that he’ll never know all of you, not your past, your current thoughts, or your future. 

“Toru okay?”

Satoru snaps back to reality. “Hmm?”

It’s only when you clutch his wrist again, he realises he’s brushing his knuckles against your jaw, skimming and tracing absentmindedly. You don’t stop him, you just hold him there like you’re also seeking his touch, adorable fingers tapping. 

How much of this is real?

How much of this dynamic, this relationship, is based on concrete things like trust and understanding and friendship, rather than mere reliance?

“Toru hurt?”

Sighing, he shakes his head and drags your hand down onto his chest, keeping it there whilst he turns to watch the movie. None of it matters. Because regardless of anything and everything that kept you apart to begin with, you’re here now, and he’s holding you and you can talk and laugh, and he’s happy. 

What else is there?

[emotionalsupportgoblin420]

TFA team Prime x Human!Reader headcanons.

Just some general crushing/relationship headcanons.

Optimus prime

He's absolutely shocked when he realizes he's fallen for a human.

He struggles a bit with the idea of a human and a cybertronian being together and how realistic it may or may not be.

Is definitely a bit nervous interacting with you one on one.

Tries to keep his cool but fails miserably lol.

Has made it his mission to protect you at all costs.

Despite his nervousness, he's quite affectionate.

It's just little things, but all stuff he knows you'd appreciate.

Always listen to you when you talk.

He remembers everything you say and will take note of like, dislikes, wants, and needs.

Takes him forever to muster up the courage to tell you how he feels.

His smile when you say you like him back is to die for.

This man yearns for cuddles but is too worried about hurting you or invading your personal space to just do it.

You gotta offer the cuddles.

Boundaries are number 1 on his priority list in a relationship.

He makes sure he doesn't cross any of yours.

He's definitely not all that openly affectionate around the rest of the team.

Hates Bumblebee's constant teasing.

When you two are alone, it's a very calm kind of affectionate if you know what I mean.

Honestly, your love is what keeps him going sometimes and needs you to know that.

He's a good leader and an even better boyfriend.

TFA Ratchet

This man is the definition of tsundere.

Can't figure out how in the wide world he ended up falling for a human.

So he denies his feelings for as long as he can.

Until they become too strong and he just can't.

Doesn't change how grouchy he is, tho lol.

It's a rare thing for him to say anything nice to you, but when he does, you can feel the sincerity behind them.

He would definitely end up confessing to you while protecting.

Trying to get this man to be openly affectionate is like trying to pull teeth 80% of the time.

He's not necessarily mean, just basic tsundere behavior.

But that 20% is something to die for.

Usually, it's late at night, when everyone else has powered down for the day and you two are the only ones still up.

It's at those times where he really opens up to you.

Not to mention, he appreciates having someone around to listen to him.

And he let you know he appreciates it.

He isn't much for physical affection.

Most you'll get is a caress on the cheek.

Acts or service is his main love language.

He'll fix certain things whether or not you've said anything about them, and he makes sure you take care of yourself.

He may be a little rough around the edges, but at the end of the day, he's a sweet guy deep down.

And he truly cares about you, no questions asked.

TFA Prowl

This man is fascinated by the idea of being in a relationship with a human.

But he never thought he'd be catching feelings for a human.

He's not quite sure what to do with these new feelings.

All he knows is that your presence makes him very happy.

It definitely takes him a while to figure out how to confess to you.

He's not used to being so open with other people.

He definitely gets a little bit flustered around you.

He's not quite sure what boyfriends do.

He tries taking advice from Bumblebee once but only once.

He vows to never do that again lol.

I feel like, despite him being a massive introvert, his love language is still quality time.

He really enjoys and values the time you two spend together.

Loves to study nature with you.

Whether that be through a nature walk or a nature documentary.

TFA Bumblebee

Gets a smile on his face every time you cuddle up next to him while watching a documentary.

Sometimes, he'll just space out and stare at you (until you look in his direction lol).

He usually isn't the type to get overly nervous, but you do some cute and/or hot, and you'll see him lose his cool (just a little).

He's quite the blusher lol.

Would probably faint if you ever did something sexy.

You're probably the only person you can really make him lose his composure, lol.

Oh this man fell fast and fell hard.

Doesn't really care that you're human.

Always tries to act cool around you.

Is an absolute simp 100%

Sometimes, he'll just sit there and stare at you.

You might as well be a god/goddess to him.

Out of everyone, he's probably the least nervous with his feelings.

Definitely finds a way to tell you how he feels in the "coolest" (by his standards lol) way possible.

He is the reigning king of surprise cuddles.

Anywhere, anytime.

He's pretty chill with PDA.

Likes people knowing you're his.

He loves to either play video games with you or just have you around while he plays video games.

He thinks the song Pika Girl by S3RL is the perfect song for your relationship.

Thinks you are the hottest thing on this planet.

He practically gets heart eyes every time you kiss him on the mouth.

When you wear a cute outfit, his knees get all weak as he tries to keep his cool.

God, if you were to wear something sultry, he'd probably start overheating and have an error lol.

Has tried to do the pocky thing with you at least once (if not more) even tho he doesn't eat pockys.

To him, you are his beginning, middle, and end.

TFA Bulkhead

Poor guy gets so nervous when he realizes he's fallen in love with a human.

He thinks he isn't cool enough for you.

Or too scary.

You'd probably have to be the one to confess first for this guy.

Is absolutely shocked that you like him too.

His main love language is 100% physical touch.

Would be too afraid of crushing you to cuddle up to you.

But when you cuddle up to him, oh gosh, you just made his day, no, his whole year.

Is definitely afraid to hug for similar reasons.

Practices gentle hugging on sticks and such just so he can.

Complimenting his art is another easy way to make his day.

As well as letting him infodump about random art facts.

He wouldn't use pet names on you unless you asked because he's so shy lol.

The first time you use a pet name on him, he'd probably almost faint.

Especially if you called him something like "teddy bear."

He'd might actual cry a little (happy tears ofc).

He loves just being able to carry you around everywhere on his shoulder.

He likes being your personal escort lol.

Sometimes, we he's feeling insecure, he needs reassurance you won't leave him for someone cooler.

For a big guy, he can be so sensitive.

And you mean the world to him.

[delilahgrey14]

୨⎯Safe In His Claws⎯୧

╰┈➤Pairing: Wolverine/Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

╰┈➤Word Count: 1770

╰┈➤Summary: You are dating the wonderful Mr. Logan Howlett, and you find yourself waking up in his arms...but will you even make it out of bed? Read on to find out

╰┈➤TW: <18+> Fluff, Some Suggestive/ Mild Sexual Content (With someone listening), Swearing, Established Relationship

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Dating Logan was one of the best things that you could have ever decided to do, he was such a wonderful partner underneath his gruff exterior. Nobody would be able to tell from his ex-veteran, tough guy persona, but underneath was a man who was so passionate and caring for what and who he loved. He was so gentle and kind, and would always plan out these beautiful dates that made you feel like the only one in the world. You were so surprised about how different Logan was below the surface, and although that took a while to break past the wall he had built up over the years, once you did it was a miracle. He liked to show you off to the others in the X-men, you were like a prize to him, a valuable possession that he could claim as his own. If you ever had any problems with self image before dating Logan, they were all gone now. He loved to shower you with affections and complements, he loved making you feel good about yourself. He was an amazing boyfriend and things seemed to be going well, you never wanted this to end.

One day, you awoke in the X-mansion. Although you did have your own room there, you found yourself spending the nights with Logan instead. The idea of sleeping alone was just depressing at this point. It wasn’t even for the sex, although that wasn’t a bad thing either, but the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around your body, his warmth being all you need to get through the chill of the night was so serene and peaceful. The feeling of someone holding you through the night, protecting you from any and all harm that may come in the shadows of twilight. Before you opened your eyes, you felt the sensation of his skin on yours, his one arm wrapped around you with his hand stroking your hair in a slow, soothing pattern. You open your eyes and look over to see him looking back at you with softness and care in his eyes. He looked as if he was admiring your beauty despite just waking up, hair a mess, no makeup, groggy from a short night of sleep.

“Damn, Darlin’. I don’t know how you do it, but you look stunning. Good morning sleepyhead.” Logan said, through soft eyes and a small smile.

“Mmmmmh” Was all you could get out, still waking up. “Good morning”

You rubbed your eyes and sat up, resting your head on his shoulder  and pulling up the sheets to cover yourself, although you noticed when you picked them up there were holes made with claws through one of the layers.

“Bad dream? Or were those from last night…” You looked at him inquisitively, but also with a slight smirk, knowing the answer to this question already.

“...Uh, I think you know the answer to that one. Shit, sorry. I know you liked these ones.”

It was funny to you when he looked guilty, even though you didn’t mind at all. One of the benefits of dating Logan was also that it taught you how to sew up fabrics, which had to happen pretty often. From his flannels to the bedsheets, you had become a master at making them look good as new.

“Hey now, don’t worry about it, I can fix these up at some point, along with that other shirt that you decided to wear on a mission.”

He smiled at you, it made him genuinely happy to see you care so much about him as well. He saw you as a companion as well as a thing to be protected. He knew that you had your own life and personality that was very strong willed and determined, but he was always there to support and protect you to keep you safe and secure. You sat in bed together for about half an hour before either one of you really spoke a word. Logan was the type of man who was strong and silent most of the time, only speaking when there was a reason to speak, but at the same time, silence with him never felt awkward. It felt as though everything that needed to be said could be communicated through a look or a smile. 

“You know” He said, “We could…pick up where we left off last night” He gave a smirk as he lowered his face and kissed your neck, working his way from your neck, to your cheek, then to your ear, giving a slight nibble before whispering,

“What do you say, darlin’?”

“Logan…we have things we have to do. What if the X-men need you?”

He sighed, but then returned to kissing you tenderly, now tracing your jawline, then your neck again and now working his way down to your chest, moving the piece of sheet that you were using to cover up before. 

“Ah they can all go fuck themselves…I need you right now…”

He pulled the blanket down and kissed you more, now trailing down past your chest and to your stomach. God it felt so good, every time he kissed you it felt like tiny little flames of passion that spread across your body. You wanted to say yes so bad, it felt amazing, but you also knew that you shouldn’t. You should get up, get things done, but here is a man who is absolutely obsessed with you, craving you, telling you to stay. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair.

“Oh…Logan…We shouldn’t.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady as he trailed your body with sweet kisses.

“What if you stopped worrying for a second, let me take care of you for a while and then we can deal with the rest of the world later, hm?” His voice was a low growl, his animalistic side was starting to show the more turned on he became.

You gave in. You couldn’t take it anymore, You wanted him so bad. You needed him. With every kiss he planted on your skin you felt your entire body tingle and your heartbeat quicken. He began to kiss you more, now moving his hands along your skin.

“Is this okay darlin’? I want to make sure before I get too…carried away.” He looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your lips, then making their way down as a smile slowly creeped across his face.

“Yes, yes this is okay” You said through quickening breaths and slight quiet moans. You couldn’t help it, it felt so good to be loved by Logan.

He moved back up to kissing you on the lips, this time with more urgency than before. He wanted you, he needed you. He repositioned himself on the bed, leaning against the headboard, then he picked you up by the hips and positioned you on his lap, one leg on each side of him. Logan was so strong, he was able to make you feel as light as a feather which also made you feel as though he was completely in control. Being over 200 years old also meant that he knew what he was doing, but he was still so kind and respectful of the fact that you didn’t always quite know what you were doing. He continued to kiss you, but now he began to move his hands up and down your frame, tracing your curves and feeling your soft skin. You could feel him becoming more aroused, and you couldn’t deny that you were too, and you knew that he knew too. As soon as things were about to escalate you both heard a knock at the bedroom door. Logan pulled away, 

“Goddamnit” he whispered through a sigh “Who is it?!”

You let out a disappointed sigh, knowing that he was probably needed somewhere and someone was looking for him, but you realized that this was an opportunity to make things a little…interesting. 

“Logan? It’s Scott, can we talk for a second?”

Logan went to stand up, but you pushed back on his chest and lowered him back to the bed. You began to kiss his neck, then grind on his lap. You knew this was going to drive him crazy, and he gave you a look that said “What the fuck are you doing?” but he didn’t seem upset. You put a finger to your lips and let out a “shhhhh” then continued to kiss on his neck and make circles with your hips on top of him. 

“Uh…I’m a little busy right now Scotty!”

He mouthed an “Oh my god sweetheart” while trying to breathe through moans in order to not reveal to Scott what was happening in the room right now.

“Well then I will talk to you through the door but you better hurry up. The professor and I were talking and we agreed…”

Scott continued to talk about whatever training regimes or something that they were hoping to incorporate into the lessons for the new additions to the mansion, but Logan didn’t care. Not only did Scott piss him off constantly, but whatever he was trying to discuss with Logan was not going to be heard over the amount of effort he was putting into not absolutely losing it right now.

“Alright? So what does this have to do with me? Do we really need to…oh god…be talking about this right now?”

Logan could barely make it through a sentence without gasping for air, you were driving him absolutely insane. 

“Did you hear a single thing I said!?” Scott said in an exasperated tone. “I need you to come and help me lead some of the training sessions! Now!”

Logan rolled his eyes, sighed, and proceeded to lift you off of him with a miserable facial expression. He quickly threw on a white tank top and faded blue jeans, trying to pull himself together to make it look as if nothing was happening and he wasn’t previously barely holding himself together. He came back over to the bed where you sat with a pout on your face.

“Hey sweetheart, I promise I’ll make it up to you later…I’m so sorry”

He left you with a kiss on the cheek and walked over to the door, making sure to open it as minimally as possible, you were his and nobody else needed to see his beautiful girlfriend. You spent the rest of the day sewing the sheets and shirt back together, waiting to see what Logan was going to have planned later for the two of you…

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Author's Note: Chapter 2 Coming Soon! Thank you for reading! 

-D.G.

[letsgobarbs]

The Plant Nanny

Pairing: Javier Peña x Spouse GN!Reader (Modern AU so Javi can have a water tracking app on his phone)

Summary: Javier Peña reminisces about life after quitting the DEA during his struggles with his New Year's Resolution.

A/N: This was written for @beefrobeefcal's New Year, Same Peña January prompt. I wrote this on my laptop and still haven't figured out how to get the little accent on n, best believe I copy-pasted his name everywhere in this fic.

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Steve is dead. The fucking pendejo died. That little shit. Fuck this.

Javi bit the inside of his lip, there was a strain in his jaw. It shouldn’t affect him like this, he knew that. It was just a plant— and not a real one. Steve the Dandelion was just a virtual creepy little fucker staring up at him with googly eyes constantly whining about being thirsty and emotionally blackmailing him to drink water or he’d die. And now he was dead.

Javier glared down, his eyebrows furrowed, at the little plant with its eyes crossed— still dead. It just wasn’t fair; he had drank water last night, had logged it in to water the little shit too. He braved the cold, and the sleep, leaving the comforting embrace of his partner to go pee a billion fucking times in the night all for Steve, the motherfucking Dandelion, to die on him by morning. 

His sweetheart maintained a sizeable collection of real plants, naming them after their loved ones, believing they could absorb the negativity, misfortune or evil eye for their human namesakes. He looked at Javs, Javi, Javier, Peña and JaviLicious all thriving by the window sill. Their Steve was doing fine too. He disappointedly looked down at virtual Steve. Maybe he should call the real Steve, check in on him and his family, wish them a Happy New Year like the sap he was.

It really wasn’t a big deal. He could just pick another plant in the app, maybe a cactus or a devil’s ivy this time— try again. But something wasn’t settling inside him, there was an odd heaviness in his chest and he must have slept weird last night because there was an ache in his shoulder that was stretching to his neck. And his mouth felt dry even after all the water he had guzzled last night. Most importantly, he felt sad. He hated to disappoint. He had already disappointed so many people in the past— his parents, Lorraine, the women he slept with, his coworkers, and probably a few more people he didn’t even know. He didn’t want to disappoint the love of his life too. 

He had made a commitment to them. A New Year’s Resolution. Javier Peña had never made one of those in his life before. But the second-most embarrassing thing was tying up your spouse in festive red ribbons and rope, like your personal Christmas present, only to then promptly pass out on them, and take the Christmas tree— that they had spent all afternoon decorating together— down with him. The most embarrassing thing, however, had been waking up in the emergency room, with a panicked partner and a worried father by his bed, realising the candy cane flavoured condom was still on his dick and the mintiness of it was stinging him. It had also given him a UTI. 

The doctors had said it was because of dehydration; according to them, he was so dehydrated his body had stopped being able to read the signs and had become less sensitive to water intake. He called bullshit. He had lived years off of booze and cigarettes and he had done just fine. He was doing just fine. He even had excellent skin, as his sweetheart often points out, and dehydrated motherfuckers don’t have that. 

But the incident had scared them— probably because he didn’t wake up immediately. One night they had tearfully told him they wanted to spend a very long, healthy, happy life with him— Javi had giddily reminded them that they were married and that’s what marriage meant. But he had also promised to drink more water as a New Year’s Resolution. He had tried, truly, he had— even when he had to stop, in the middle of thrusting, during sex to go pee. He was mortified, but he kept his word to drink more water. 

“It’s dead, isn’t it.” Javi was startled by the interruption. His sweetheart was leaning against their bedroom entrance looking delightfully mussed in his worn, old green training t-shirt, sleep marks on the side of their face. He knew their skin would be warm and toasty from sleep; Javi wished they would hold him. 

“Yeah… the plant is dead.” And they did hold him, coming up behind him to drape themselves over his back, arms wrapped around him with gentle strokes and soothing pets that told him they knew he was upset about way more than just the plant.

“Hmm… You know they have those drops of life thing in the app that revives the plant?” They gently reminded him. But life didn’t give second chances— there were no drops of life for people who were harmed by his choices. Javi bent his head to ease the ache in his neck, and to also make space for their chin to rest on his shoulder. Instead, his sweetheart started massaging the area that twinged with pain. Always so perceptive.    

“That’s cheating, I’m not a quitter. Gonna do this thing right.” He tells them instead of admitting his thoughts. And Javier Peña wasn’t a quitter. He took quitting as a personal failure and it killed him to do so. It had taken him so long to quit the drug war and Mexico. Sometimes, he still burned with injustice that none of it had made any difference, that his actions had been futile, all those lives lost for nothing. It was the sort of rage and anger he hid behind a mask of apathy, insisting that he was done— that he was through.

But he hadn’t believed himself, and his father hadn’t believed him either. For months, he hadn’t been able to stay at the ranch, unable to stand the sight of those boats transporting drugs across his own backyard. And then he had only felt worse because he was letting his father down with more flighty attitude. 

He would escape to a bigger city under the guise of consulting gigs, interviews, and even for drug education and prevention programs when he was truly desperate— telling kids ‘Don’t do drugs!’ like they would actually listen. Often the words had echoed in his mind, ‘what else is a guy like you gonna do?’ Javier didn’t have an answer, he had never felt so purposeless. 

It was during one of these escapes, he met his cariño at a cafe. They sat at the table next to his, annotating the morning newspaper like they would annotate a book— a big bold ‘DICKHEAD’ over the president’s head with his eyes and mouth crossed out, a heart over some celebrities’ face, another ‘WTF?!?!?! BULLSHIT’ on the margins of some political op-ed. He failed to hold in a chuckle when they had disdainfully clicked their tongue which had caused them to look up at him. Just as he had been poised to apologise, they had abruptly turned to fish out an extra pen, waving it at him in offer along with sliding half of the newspaper closer to him.    

He turns to look at the side profile he had studied and admired for weeks rather than the newspapers— letting the tip of his nose trace their cheekbone up to their temple, smelling their scent mixed with their lotion, soap and shampoo from their shared bath last night. He watched their eyes flutter close, eyelashes gracefully fanning over dark circles that spoke of prolonged exhaustion; eyes still puffy from a lack of sleep. His heart tightened with gratitude and love, he had run his sweetheart ragged this holiday season. He pressed his lips to their skin when he felt his throat had closed around the words he wanted to say, conveying all the love and adoration he felt.  

Those mornings at the cafe had been the brightest part of his day until the shared breakfasts had turned into happy hour drinks and then comforting dinners. It was always easy for him to fall into bed with someone, but it had been so difficult to leave theirs. So Javi simply never left. Which didn’t mean he hadn’t been a colossal idiot at times. The very look in their eyes had terrified him, his sweetheart was not one to hide their feelings and theirs had been apparent very early on, even with him constantly pulling away and drawing boundaries. 

He was always so afraid he would never measure up to that look in their eyes, it filled him with endless anxiety. He had been so sure that they would realise he wasn’t worthy of the love that poured forth from those eyes— eventually, they would stop looking at him that way once they realised what a disappointment he was. He also didn’t believe he could love so openly and wholly. How wrong he had been. 

Javier had waited, and waited, and waited some more for them to finally demand more of him, or throw him out of their life for something better— someone more stable. But the demands and confrontation never came instead they trapped him in the limbo of his own making where they only gave him as much as he gave them. Their shared meals were lighthearted and playful but the conversations always impersonal. And even during the nights when their breaths mingled, hearts sang, and souls danced together, his sweetheart would avoid his eyes and his kisses. For the first time in his life, it wasn’t him out of bed first, refreshed and active, lighting a cigarette or pouring a drink after sex— it was them, getting some water, snacks or taking a shower. 

He hadn’t known what was missing until they had been too dazed from pleasure to avoid a kiss. And that kiss. It had changed him. It had been so tender and desperate, a tantalizing mix of long and slow explorations of each other with sweet and deep forays that had them both panting for air but unwilling to part. The kiss had been warm, passionate and possessive as if the floodgates they had barred closed were cracked open and an immense torrent of love, want and need had surrounded the both of them. It had shaken him and created a sense of awareness— Javier Peña had never been loved this way before. 

So it had been all the more shocking when they had ripped away from that kiss as if burned. His cariño had taken all that love and locked it up again in their eyes, they never allowed it to settle between them again. They had respected the boundaries he had set, and held him to his words as well. The loss had left him bereft— he yearned for what he had tasted only once. And Javier learned just what a greedy man he could be. He had craved more, more more. Everything they were willing to give him and then some. 

He listened to their quiet dulcet tone as they whispered to him about a plant they had lost in the app years ago after it had grown shoots and a smile, and how it had been the tiny thing that triggered a depressive episode. He realised it was an attempt to comfort him and his heart softened further. Javi gently caressed their chin before guiding their face to turn to him until their lips met his in a kiss— their lips always so soft and generous. He wished he could kick the old him for being so stupid for missing out on the chances to kiss the love of his life. He didn’t know why he had been so terrified and uneasy when loving them was so easy. 

He kissed his partner for the sake of kissing them, with relish and wild abandon— feeling the tender arch of their palate, the smooth gummy lining of their cheek, the rough patch on the middle of their tongue. As he sank deeper into their kiss, he allowed the claws of the past to loosen their grip on his mind.

When he had finally dislodged his head from his ass all those years ago and confessed to wanting more from their relationship, it was as if his sweetheart had bloomed in front of his eyes with a smile so full of fondness and affection it had taken his breath away. Their love had spurted vines that tenaciously climbed over his walls of self-loathing and doubt, tearing through the bricks he had laid. The process had been so slow he hadn’t even realised when he had started to breathe easier as the walls crumbled around him. 

Some of the rubble and ruins would still sting and prick under his feet— like today. But the wreckage of those walls had allowed for clear air that brought with it the realisation that Javier Peña was just a man. He hadn’t started the war on drugs, nor will it end with him. He had done what he had to do, and his choices, albeit questionable, were true to who he was. It wasn’t his fault he lived and laboured under a system that would have never allowed his efforts to come to any lasting fruition. He had unsuccessfully struggled for justice in a world devoid of it. And ultimately he had made the choice that was good for him.

The acceptance of his past and actions hadn’t been spoon-fed to him like his father and Steve had attempted, it was a realisation he had come to all on his own, which made it stick. He had personally closed the doors on the opportunity with the Houston DEA office with another on-record interview calling out their discriminatory practices in the name of narcotics control. Surprisingly, his vocal critique had paved the path for him to a new job with a local community-based harm reduction organisation. Connie had even helped him certify as a first responder. 

The irony was not lost on him, that despite all those years of his father’s talks, he had ended up just like the old man. Javier had stopped chasing storms; he had found his fulfilment in coming home to fix the fences every time a storm hit because… someone has to. The DEA was not done with him though, they would often pull him in for consultations— the payment was always a nice cushion for their growing family. 

He was miffed at losing his sweetheart’s attention to the dead virtual plant again, but he watched them revive the plant anyway. His inventory of free drops of life dwindling into nothing, giving away just how spectacularly he had failed at his New Year’s Resolution— he had already killed nine plants before Steve the Dandelion. A fact his cariño had also just realised judging by the admonishing glare. But the action still felt so… significant to him— it made his heart soar. That stupid plant wasn’t the only thing his sweetheart had revived. 

He pulled them off his back and around the couch, positioning them between his spread legs so he could nuzzle into the softness of their belly. Javier grazed his fingers up their thighs to lightly tease the hem of his old t-shirt. They had given him more love, affection and devotion than Javier knew existed— more than he knew what to do with other than trade it between them like two children exchanging their spoils in a collectable card game. 

He hadn’t yet figured out exactly what they saw in him, but he hoped they would see it forever. He would often catch them looking at him from the corner of his eyes, or in the reflection of a window. It would always be a look so full of love that a warm glow would ignite in his chest that spreads all the way to his fingers and toes. Even now, he could feel the warm flush rising up his exposed neck. 

“You know they say new habits are built by layering them on the old ones?” They said as their fingers played with the hair at his nape.

“Mhm, how’s that?” He asked as their fingers now played connect-the-dots with the freckles on his throat. It turns out his cariño was feeling frisky again. He cupped a palm-full of ass, playfully squeezing it to draw them closer to him.

“Well, you could take a drink of water before every meal, or after you brush your teeth, or… before every time you kiss me?” They teased. But he reared his head back. 

“Every time? Every time I kiss you? So, I would have to stop kissing you to go pee every time? What if we were making out? What about sex?” He sounded affronted even to his own ears. This was the worst idea. But they kept giggling away at his misery. 

“Alright, cariño, what is your going rate for a kiss?” He demanded.

“Let me think about it… what about a glass of water for a kiss? Two glasses of water for a full makeout sesh… and then a whole litre of water for sex.” They laid down the law. 

“No…” He was aghast, “Baby, if I drank a litre of water before sex then all you would hear is the water sloshing around in my stomach while we make love.” The words served their purpose as his sweetheart burst into peals of laughter. 

“Why don’t I get a discount today because I was sad?” His voice dropped an octave as he tried to seduce and cajole them back to their bedroom— his own eyes dripping with syrupy love to mirror his partner’s. This suited him, he thought. This life. This love. It all suited him. It was good for him and it made him flourish. 

A/N: The Plant Nanny is an app I used several years ago to build a habit of drinking water. It gives you a tiny plant you can name, and every time you drink water you can water your plant as well. When you drink the water you are supposed to, the plant grows. If you don't drink water, it dies and you feel bad it died. But they give you like 10 drops of life to revive a dead plant. Poor Peña has used up all those drops lol.

[notenoughgauze]

Lovesick

There’s always those men, the type that once they want something they’d do everything they can to achieve it. That’s how Dazai was now. He was so desperate, so in need of you. He could hardly contain himself whenever his eyes flickered towards your desk. It was empty still, still so empty. He couldn’t wait for you to arrive. Not to talk to you of course, but to admire you from afar. 

 Dazai never had issues with women, that’s simply the truth but with you and your priceless smile, he folds like a chair. A big, tall, dumb chair who can’t get words out around you. He sputters and falters. His words come out as a jumbled mess.  It was completely unlike himself, but when he’s around you he acts like a normal 22 year old who tries to clumsily talk up a pretty girl. 

Now, He knows he’s smart. He’s a genius and he always knows what's coming next, but when you show up this morning, dazzling him with that goddamn smile and those beautiful eyes, he doesn’t expect you to look at him and ask him how his night was.

“Oh uh” he splutters. His face warming, he feels like a teen boy with a crush, but that can’t be this. He’s Osamu Dazai, womanizer, genius, ex-mafia. Yet here he was with rosy cheeks, trying desperately to not look down at your low cut shirt and focus on what your plush lips are saying to him. “Dazai?” you call to him, waving your hand in front of his face. “Are you alright?” He nods, eyes wide and locked with your soft ones.  “Y-yes.”   

He couldn’t take it, you were so close, one moment and he could lock his lips with you. Fuck his bones were screaming at him to just move, to finally grip your face in his hands and show you why you should give him a chance. But he doesn't move. He just stares into your big eyes and tries to formulate a word. “I'm fine, don't worry about me, Beautiful.” He pulls out a harmless smile and encourages you to return to your desk. 

Your beauty wasn’t your only key feature, it was a plus but not why he’s beginning to fall for you. You were kind, you were insightful, you were smart and funny and so fucking cute. How could anyone not fall for someone like you? He flippantly goes through his paperwork, daydreaming about you, every so often flicking his eyes over to you and watching you work, the sweet little secretary. 

God he’d love one chance to show you how good he can make you feel. To take you into the supply closet and show you how a real man treats beautiful women like yourself. Or maybe he’d take you home, lay you down and really take his time with you. Showering you with affection,  showing his feelings without actually saying anything at all. Sex was what he knew best, he was so used to using that method to get his emotions out instead of just talking about it like a normal human being. He wonders if finally fucking you will get this out of his system and then he could go back to his own ways and put all these feelings behind him.

Oh but when he finally gets that chance, so many weeks later. It exceeds his expectations. The first kiss came after a long celebration the company threw. Everyone of age was drinking and cheering, including you. You were in a booth in the back with Atsushi and Kyouka, smiling and sipping on your drink. Dazai and Yosano sat at the bar, clinking glasses. “So, when are you gonna make a move?” she says with a knowing smirk. Dazai Smiles softly, of course he wasn’t hiding it very well. This was all so new to him. “Maybe tonight will be the night?” he replies. “I’d go for it now, that bastard over there is making eyes at your girl.” She nods her head towards another patron. Dazai follows her eyeline and watches how this random man is oogling his sweet little coworker. 

Dazai felt a mix of emotions. Sure he was jealous, though he’d much rather commit suicide than show it. On the other hand he was filled with a sort of bittersweet emotion. You COULD give him a chance, or you could bat your eyes at this new contender and fall for someone with likely a lot less blood on their hands. He wanted to give you the choice, he really did. He wanted to let you decide if you’d take on a new venture, but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t allow it, not with his full heart; and so He stood up and stalked over to your booth. Slipping in next to you with an arm finding purchase around your shoulders. 

“Oh Beautiful” he calls, not using his normal pet name, that was used for just any woman, this was you. “You haven’t talked to me this whole time, I was quite sad, y'know.” He acts drunker than he is, wanting to chalk it up to the drink if he was to make a mistake, not that he makes very many anyways. “I’m sorry Dazai, I didn’t mean to ignore you.” you reach up with almost teary eyes and hold his face, looking deep into his eyes. Seems you were tipsy yourself. His face heats up and he curses himself for melting into your touch. You don’t mean it. You don’t, he knows you’re just drunk, but god does he want you to mean it, to promise you’ll give him all your attention from now on. 

“Beautiful, don’t apologize,you can make it up to me now.” He gets closer, pulling you in till your sides smush together. He shot a look towards the man, sharp and pointed.  The man’s face was red and his expression was a mix of shock and frustration. Satisfied, Dazai turned back to you with a smug smile. He reaches out and plays with your hair. Wishing he could lean in and smother himself with your scent. 

“Osamu.” you coo, laying your head down on the table. “I missed you, I really did.” His smug look gets wiped off his face at that. He wants to fall into what you’re laying out for him. Kyouka and Atsushi silently scoot out, leaving you behind with their senior.  Your face was flushed and rosy. Your eyes glazed and full of some sort of emotion towards him. He feels warm, like a hot bath. You’re drunk. He wants to remember that, but some part of him deep down wants you to mean everything you say. You slip your hand against his, playing and fiddling with his long fingers. He’s silent. What was he supposed to say? 

You bring your head up again, sitting somewhat straight with a small sway. You whisper “I missed you” again and lean in. Nose brushing against his, you close your eyes and push forward, kissing him. His eyes stay wide for a moment, before he closes them and dives in Kissing you with fervent passion, hoping to engrave this moment into your memory for tomorrow. His hand comes up to your cheek, holding you close and feeling your soft skin. 

It was his first magical kiss. The first time it has ever felt outer worldly. He let out a whine when you finally pulled away. You kissed his cheek, then his nose and giggled to yourself at his expression. “Will you walk me home?” You ask. He nods bashfully and he leads you out the doors. 

The walk to the ada apartments is quiet. You walk hand in hand, fiddling with each other’s fingers. Dazai hums a song, breaking the silence, and you just listen as you keep walking. You were more sober now, awake and aware, but you didn’t make a noise, not wanting to ruin the moment you've sought after for so long. “You alright?” he asks with a soft tone. “Mhm” you mumble, looking down at the intertwined fingers. “I meant it y’know” you say , still mumbling your words a bit. “Meant what?” He asks, knowing full well what she means. “The kiss…I know I had a lot to drink, but I’ve been wanting to do that for way too long.” Her face warms and she continues to stare at the ground, embarrassed at how forward she had to be to get it all out. 

He looks down at you, thinking over your words. In his only response, he leans down and lifts your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes once more. He leans further and kisses you again, soft and sweetly. 

You return home, he regretfully pulls away from you, holding on for a moment too long. You look at each other with flushed cheeks and bashful smiles. You almost invite him in, invite him to stay, but this moment was too perfect to add on to. You'll talk to him tomorrow, and you'll get definitive answers before you do that. 

Dazai practically skips away. He wanted to stay, to keep you in his arms all night long, but he needed to talk to you tomorrow, to see how you react to him then. Until then, he'll enjoy the feelings blossoming in him.

[nomi-c]

Pottery ventures

Professions (1/8) {San}

{San x Reader}

Wordcount: 7K

Genre: Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Pet names (sweetheart), cursing (fuck), Dominant San , Oral Female receiving, Protected intercourse, Fingering

A/n: as always with my ff's, this ff isn't meant to represent the artist in any way or form!

-Minors don't read-

With a last glance on your Phone, you cursed your best friend for cancelling on your monthly planned meet up in the very last second.

Are you sure you can't make it? You texted her, even though you already knew the answer. She spontaneously needs to stay longer at work because of some emergency at the ER.

If you would have known sooner you would've called the workshop owner and cancelled the appointment, but you were already in front of the little studio and the appointment would start in around 10 minutes.

The day was really calm and no one expected a emergency this size.... I'm sure you'll have fun at the workshop, we can still book another appointment at that shop for maybe next week?

You sighed and watched your breath form into tiny clouds as you took a sip of your coffee and pulled the scarf tighter around your neck and partly covered your nose and mouth from the biting snowy wind that caused you to shiver heavily.

I will ask him for another appointment after today, no worries. Stay strong! Love you xxx

Without waiting for another reply since you knew she was busy treating emergency patients, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves and gripped the door handle.

Staying a second longer outside wasn't ideal, seeing as in this part of the town not many people stayed outside after it got dark. It didn't matter that it was only 7pm on a Thursday, once it was dark people stayed at home. It wasn't like the area was criminally populated, it was more that the way the block was built gave off strange vibes and an eerie feeling once the sun set. Maybe it also had to do with the past of this exact block that gave you shivers whenever you thought about the mall tragedy years back.

They were in the middle of renovating the block and erasing the ugly past with new parks and buildings and incredible cafés but nonetheless people didn't forget things that easily and you were sure it would take a long while till people would be walking here carefree again.

The little Pottery studio you would visit today however had a owner who only moved here 6 months ago and probably didn’t know the history of this area before he opened the newly build studio here. When you and your best friend searched for a cool new hobby, you found his website and his rating was 5 stars through the bench.

You decided to give him a shot since the comments were good and some of the pieces you saw on his website were drop dead gorgeous. It wasnt the first workshop you both visited, seeing as you made it your adventure to try new workshops and courses every few meet ups. From photography to drawing, and from parkour lasertag. Every thing so far was awesome and a few things got stuck with you. Two of those things being Taekwondo and Art.

You smiled at the many memories that rotated in your inner eye. With a last look around you, you cautiously pushed the door open and a little bell above you ringed quietly. You instantly reveled in the warmth of the studio as you stepped in fully, you never were the biggest fan of winter and today was a particularly cold day.

Your eyes roamed over the beautifully black and white designed lobby with incredibly expensive looking modern art pieces and others that seemed like landscapes and some others like momentous of people you didn't recognize.

Walking a bit closer to it, you noted that every Individual piece was lit on by a over head lamp that gave each one its own stage and moment to shine and next to each painting you saw a little silver plate that described the painting and mentioned it's artist.

All of them were drawn by the same person, Park Seonghwa. The name didn't sound familiar to you, but whoever he is, he is a incredible painter.

You moved a bit more into the lobby and your gaze fell behind the counter, where you spotted a big lit up showcase with some of the crafted pieces you saw on the website, and with it you again saw little metal signs with the names of the people who crafted them.

You had to give it to the owner, he had a love for crediting every person he had pieces of and everyone who created art in his studio. You decided then and there that you already liked the guy.

To your left, you saw a small sitting corner which consisted of two white couches on opposite sites of one another, a black fluffy carpet and a rectangular glass table with art and crafting magazines stacked on one side of it.

On the wall next to the sitting area, you saw a makeshift bistro station with a fancy looking Barista coffee machine.

Without doubt the owner didn't only have taste in aesthetic but also in what he consumes, and what he offers his guests you thought to yourself as you saw the variety of pastries next to the coffee machine.

With a last longing look towards the sweet and probably incredibly delicious pastries, you turn back towards the front of the store.

Your eyes travel back towards the counter ahead of you, it is all black and neatly organised from what you could see behind the counter, once you reached the front of it.

Your eyes focused on the jumping screensaver on the computer on the right, that was partly turned into your direction.

You started hearing louder growing steps and focused your attention on the stack of business cards that laid out next to the blooming Poinsettia.

Only when he made his stance behind the counter, you looked up from the business card and your eyes locked with his.

Your breath however got lost along the way, he was around one head taller than you, had dark brown almost black hair, deep brown eyes and a set of adorable dimples that demanded your full attention right instantly.

He seemed to work out a lot, seeing as his frame was huge compared to you, and by huge you were talking about the fact that you could disappear behind his back fully. Looking a bit further down, the black tight shirt he wore revealed to you that his waist seemed pretty petit for his body.

You caught yourself staring at the man before you, so you quickly cleared your throat. Your cheeks burned from embarrassment and you averted your eyes on your gloved hands.

You set the cup of coffee on the counter quickly and started removing your scarf and glove, feeling unbearably warm all of a sudden. "Hello, I am the 7pm appointment. My best friend couldn't make it due to a emergency at work, so it will be just me today. I hope that's still okay with you?" You asked with a slightly shaky voice.

The guy who until now watched you with a slight smile on his lips, leaned down to his computer and typed something on his keyboard. His eyes roamed over the screen and a few seconds later he gave you a quick glance. "It's alright, I hope the emergency isn't too bad. Do you want to schedule a new appointment on top? I won't charge it extra, seeing as you still came here today instead of cancelling last minute."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "I would love that, that is really kind of you Mr. Choi. Would next week at the same time work for you?" You asked with a smile on your lips as you removed your beanie and put it into your bag with the scarf and gloves.

He clicked on his computer a few times, his eyes glued to the screen. "It works perfectly for me, I'll set the appointment. And please call me San, we seem to be around the same age."

You nodded and gave him a smile. "Thank you, San. I'm Y/n, it's nice to meet you." You said as your cautiously extended your hand towards him with a unsure smile on your lips.

Handshakes were mostly out of fashion, especially in winter and even more after the pandemic but you would feel rude to not greet another person that way. Especially someone as kind as him.

San eyed your hand for a second before his dimples reappeared and he laid his hand on yours for a firm handshake. You couldn't help but notice the two rings that adorned his fingers, one golden on his index finger, and a silver infinity looped ring on his middle finger. Odd combination you thought to yourself but didn't dare ask about it.

With anyone else you would say it's a fashion crime to mix gold and silver, but you felt like they had a special meaning and in all honesty you thought that little inconsistency fit with him.

If San noticed he didn't mention it, when he waved his hand towards the pasties to your left. "Can I offer you anything before we get started? A New coffee or maybe some Pastries?" He asked you with a kind smile and warm gaze.

You quickly shook your head. "No, thank you. I still have my coffee. But Thank you very much for the offer."

He nodded and gestured to the right where a big set of double milk glass doors was located. "Shall we?" He asked you with a smirk.

You once again felt your cheeks heat up, something about him made you jumpy but not in the creeped out way. No, he made you jumpy in a manner of your crush replied to your Text message where you ask him to date you kind of way.

You tried to calm your racing heart with a deep breath and focused on the flowers in the corner next to the double door, right beside these broad shoulders attractive shoulders of-

No. Don't go there- you curse yourself out as you follow San through the Glass doors avoiding his body with your hungry eyes as if your life depends on it.

You practically drool over your teacher for your pottery workshop right now, but could anyone actually blame you? San's proportions and looks should've been captured on old paintings cause he had the perfect proportions in any kind of way and form. You were sure artists would fight over him to be their muse, look wise as much as body wise.

You could blame your reaction on the fact that you didn't have a boyfriend or a date in years and your... well, last time feeling like this over a guy was even longer ago.

Feeling San's eyes on you, you slowly lifted your gaze from his shoulders to his eyes and felt exposed by the raw intensity of his stare.

With a smirk on his lips, he shook his head and turned left towards a little table that had a clay sack on top. He grabbed two blocks and placed them one after another on two of the workstations. "You can pick any seat you want."

You woke up from your trance and unholy thoughts about broad backs and muscular arms and set your bag next to the door on the black armchair before you picked the right seat and sat down eying the clay block with interest.

San grabbed two bowls from the side of the sink on the wall to your right and filled them both with water, before he set them next to your clay blocks on the work stations next to the rotation disk.

"Do you have knowledge in pottery?" He asked with his back on you, as he went towards his desk where a bunch of pottery goods sat which he carefully grabbed to place them in yet another showcase to fully dry unharmed.

You shook your head, even though you knew he couldn't see it right now. "I don't know anything about it, me and my best friend wanted to try it and make cute mugs for our reading weekends together."

He nodded, processing your words for a second or two before he turned to his left where a couple of aprons hung on the wall next to the burning oven.

You followed his movements as he picked 2 aprons one smaller and one bigger black one which you assumed was his personal one.

When he turned back around to make his way back to you he had a soft reassuring smile on his lips. "Pottery isn't as difficult as most think it is, you might take a few tries but you'll get the hang of it quickly."

Once he was seated next to you, he handed you the smaller apron slowly. "Did you already think about what you want to create today?" He asked you with a curious expression on his features. His prominent cheekbones slightly rosy from the warmth of the studio.

You quickly searched your mind for possible things you could create and that were easy enough for a absolute beginner as you laid on your apron, but you only came up with a total basic idea. "How about a vase?" You asked as you remembered the beautiful vase you knocked off the dinner table the other day. It was the only vase you had since the many years you lived all alone.

San tilted his head to the side, his indexfinger with the golden ring tapping on his lip absentmindedly. "It's a good choice, easy but with a good purpose."

You nodded in agreement. San's eyes focused on the clay block in front of him before he shot you a quick glance. "I'm sure you already noticed the clay block in front of you, so what we want to do with it to begin, is to loosen it up. We archive that by kneading the clay like a you would with a fresh dough."

He took the clay in his hands and started kneading it and made sure you copy his moves before he spoke again. "We knead or wedge the clay to remove any possible bubbles inside, to make sure our work will be stable and won't break as easily after or during it's getting burned."

You nodded and quickly made a messy bun, already annoyed by the hairs that kept on blocking your view as you kept on kneading the small clay bock thoroughly.

Minutes ticked by with neither of you saying anything, the only sounds in the atelier were your breathings and the faint melody that flowed out of the ceiling speakers quietly.

Your arms were already getting sore and you felt a small droplet of sweat making it's way down your forehead. "How long are we supposed to knead it exactly?" You asked a little out of breath.

San's quiet laugh made you stop your work and look at him instead. He was still kneading the clay, your eyes focused on the strong muscles on his arms and how they moved under every movement he made.

He formed a small clump with it and set it on the middle of the rotating disk. "The longer, the better. It's tiring at the beginning but try to see it as a workout instead with a nice new pottery good as reward." He told you with a smile on his lips.

You shook out your arms, trying to ease some of the burning tension in your muscles and shaped your clay block almost the same. "Can I ask you something?" You asked San as your eyes darted through the artillier and you saw more framed photographies and art pieces on the walls, you even spotted a fallen angel stone figure in the far corner by the window which you didn't notice while entering the space earlier.

San turned in his twisting chair towards you and leaned his elbow on the workstation as he eyed you curiously. "Sure, ask all you want."

You turned towards him as well, glad to rest your arms a bit more as well as stilling your curiosity at the same time. You gestured towards the walls and the stone figure. "Are you interested in photography and art and stone sculpturing? I couldn't help but notice them right away." You said as you once again eyed everything in the room with adoration.

Seeing as you love art yourself you couldn't help yourself but standing up and inspecting it closer. It was like a invisible line pulled you towards the art he displayed and created. The color combinations and techniques the artist used drew you in, and the different vibes and auras each painting gave off seemed to tell a story you yet had to discover fully.

San who slowly walked up behind you, looked at the painting as well. You didn't see his face but could hear the pride in his voice when he spoke again.

"The paintings and sculptures and even the pictures are all from my best friends."

Your eyes went wide as you turned around and looked up at San's face with a dropped jaw. "These belong in big galleries and museums. They are masterpieces."

You saw a dimple form on his left cheek as he paced the room. You followed him, checking the art pieces with him with full attention. "Seonghwa is an artist, he draws everything that captures his interest, from people to objects, to abstract art. He wants to open a gallery in the future, but until then he asked if he could spotlight some paintings here. I loved the idea, it gives the studio flair and showcases his work at the same time."

When you guys reached another photography of what seemed to be a woman's back hugged by shadows and a industrial styled window front with San Francisco in the back, he stopped again as you took in the big framed photograph. "Wooyooung is a photographer, he always had a incredible eye for aesthetic and when he grabs his camera, you can be sure to see a masterpiece as result. He actually has his own gallery, but he gifted me some pieces as welcome present to my first own studio. He helped me a lot building this place."

Your eyes went even bigger as you continued listening to every word San said. He gestured to the angel stature and his smile got soft. "Yeosang is a Stone sculpturor, but if you ask me he should sculpture himself as well cause with his looks he doesn't stand the figures he creates behind in anything at all. I'm sure Michael Angelo would have taken him as student and muse if he would be alive still. His skills are impeccable, even if what he creates sometimes tends to be melancholic." He said as he grazed his hand softly over the broken wings of the crying angel.

You didn't take your eyes away from the stature, too much in awe about its raw beauty to look back at San. "Everything here is incredibly beautiful and has so much meaning behind it, this is breathtaking." You almost whispered as your finger softly touched the forever rolling tear of the angel.

You walked a bit further and carefully grazed your hand over one perfectly tailored mug, it resembled london as you quickly realized with the big ben in the background and a person that seemed to wait for something.

"What's your favorite style?" You asked him as you wondered if he drew the places on pottery that he visited or knew.

A soft smile appeared on your lips at a old memory of your trip there years back for your year abroad.

San sighed as he eyed the mug you softly cradled in your hand. "I don't think I have found my personal style yet, I'm relatively new with painting detailed pieces. I used to just glaze the pieces over in white. It's timeless and classic."

You nodded in agreement. "Does this one has a story? Looking at your work I would say you're a really talented painter as wellby the way."

San leaned against his desk in thought, thinking your words over in his mind as he looked around the office. "Isn't that what art of any kind is about? A purpose or a story that needs or should to be told? Like for example you chose a vase, is there a story behind it? Cause I could think there is one." He asked as he turned his attention on you with a raised brow and a twitch of his lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Well, in my defense I really need a vase. Mine broke months back and since then I haven't been able to buy flowers anymore." You quickly blurted out.

San laughed quietly and opened his mouth to say something but you were faster. "Anyways, you don't need to talk about it when it's too personal. What I was trying to say was that your art is incredible. I'm glad I chose your studio to learn pottery." You followed up saying, trying to erase your embarrassment.

San's cheeks got a slight bit colored and you saw a hint of a dimple as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Thank you, shall we continue?"

You nodded and strolled back towards your work station, happy that he didn’t further commented on your choice of work for today.

Once you were seated again, he wet his hands and got the round plate of the workstation spinning. You watched him closely and imitated his movements, your eyes glued to his strong hands as he softly worked on the clay and managed to get the clay to part to a hole on the middle.

Surprisingly enough, you managed to do the same on the first try. A happy laugh bubbled up inside you, as you eyed his next movements like a hawke.

"For the next step, you have press from both the inside and the outside against the clay to thin it out while you also pull it slightly upwards to shape it to your liking." He explained as he wet his hands in the bowl a bit more and slowly did what he explained.

He made sure to place his hands and arms in a way that you would be able to see it perfectly from your seat.

When he was done with that part, he turned off the workstation and turned towards you.

You could easily make out the bigger body and slimmer neck of the vase, when the spinning lessened you had to say it already looked damn near perfect.

Your eyes connected with his for a second, and you saw nothing but kindness and patience in his eyes as he waited for you to start.

With a deep breath, you turned on the workstation with the button on the side, and wet your hands in the bowl with warm water.

You felt San move a bit closer, but paid no attention to him as you set your hands both on the inside and outside of the cool clay.

You recalled his instructions from ealier and started carefully molding the clay. At first it was a bit difficult because even after all the kneading, the clay felt a bit dense.

But easily enough you saw it get thinner and wobblier. It started to seem to spin out of control, and San quickly rolled his chair behind you.

His hands smoothed over yours as he pushed away your foot from the pedal to take control over the spinning speed of the table.

His warm hands engulfed yours easily, as he lessened the pressure you put on the vase. You watched it regain its composure almost immediately.

You felt his warm breath tickle the side of your neck as he leaned his head forward, at your back you softly felt his chest against you.

Your heart started racing as you watched him guide your hands over the body of the vase in an attempt to save it and to even out the thickness of it, seeing as it was pretty uneven. "The first attempts are always a bit out of control, that's totally fine and normal. When you feel it getting out of hand, you have to lessen the speed of the rotation disk. Otherwise you risk the clay to smack into your face."

He explained as you felt his thigh muscles contort and bump against your leg when he showed you how the speed would affect the rotation disk.

You felt your cheeks grow hot and you got unbearably warm. Your mind only seemed to care about his close proximity and his incredibly good smelling perfume. Of how his hands felt around yours and the breath of him that tickled your neck with each breath he took.

You watched as the clay induced liquid rushed over and between your hands as he started forming the neckline of the vase together with you. You caught yourself slightly glancing over towards his face that almost rested on your shoulder and noticed a few lose strands hanging close to his eyes, it was a effort to not automatically reach out and swipe them away.

You shook your head slightly to clear your thoughts, and averted your eyes back towards your forming Vase. He adjusted your fingers on the vase slightly and applied a bit of pressure to your grip before he spoke next. "When you use just about the right amount of pressure, it will turn out just how you want it. This is about the thickness it needs to ensure it's stable and won't break while burning." His voice was raspy and close to your which didn't help your current situation at all. You took a small breath as your legs pressed together Involuntarily.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to not betray you more than your body already did. He angled his arms a bit more to be able to guide you better and in the process his back was now flushed against your back and his arms were pressed against yours further which caused tiny goosebumps and a shiver through out your arms and the back of your neck.

You could swear you heard his breath hitch for a second but you wouldn't allow to let your mind travel to the possibility that he was reacting to you the same way as you reacted to him.

You watched as he guided your hands further up the neck to work on the top rim of the vase. He let go of your hands and dipped them into the bowl quickly and set his hands back on yours.

His head turned towards you slightly. "Do you like it like this? Or should we try out another Design?"

The air rushed out of your lungs as he accidentally grazed your ear while speaking, your back pressed against his chest slightly in response.

You quickly opened your eyes in mortification and quickly shot up from your seat, hitting yourself on the workstation hard enough to probably leave a bruise behind as you fumbled your way out from being wedged between San and the workstation.

You dipped your hands in the now tainted water and wiped your hands on the apron, before you removed your the cardigan and walked the few steps towards your bag to place it on top carefully.

You felt San's presence somewhere behind you vividly, which only worsened the throbbing inside of you. "I gotta use the restroom real quick." You all but blurted out as you quickly exited the room.

You had no clue where said toilet was but you needed distance before you would jump him.

"Second door on the right!" He called after you from where he stood as you barged through the door and almost ran into the restroom.

Once the door was locked, you rested your back against the cool wood and slid down to a crouch.

Deep breaths. In and out. Calm down. You can do this.

After collecting your thoughts for a second, you went up to the sink and splashed your face with ice cold water to get a grip.

Your hands gripped the edge of the marble sink tightly as you eyed yourself in the mirror. "Calm down and focus!" You told yourself with strict face before you patted your face dry and unlocked the door.

The temperature in the lobby felt significantly colder which you gladly welcomed as you walked up to the little table in the sitting area and poured yourself a glass of water from the pitcher.

You took a deep gulp to get rid of your dry mouth as you peaked inside the studio again. You didn’t see him immediately, but you spotted his work station empty.

You stepped inside quietly, scanning the room quickly and spotted leaning against his desk in thoughts.

He wasn't turned towards you, instead he seemed to watch the vase, his vase, do it's thing in the fire oven.

You creeped a bit closer towards him, gripping your water in a death grip as your heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. Once you caught up to him and only a few steps separated you, you cleared your throat to announce your presence without startling him.

His head snapped in your direction and he straightened, before you saw him made a step towards you. "I'm sorry." His voice sounded sincere, but his eyes seemed to hold that same barely contained restraining that you were sure would be mirrored on your own eyes as well. "I'm sorry if I acted unprofessionally towards you, I don't know what I was thinking."

He turned away from you and your had to strain your ears to hear his next words. "That's what I should say, right? Even if I don't mean it." He raked his hands through his hair frustratedly.

Your stomach tightened as you registered his words and saw his exquisite back muscles flex with his movement.

You made a step towards him, as you felt your need coursing through your body violently. That much for calming down.

You set the glass of water down on his desk, as he turned back towards you quickly. His gaze was wild and pure of need as he fixated your full lips and then your eyes. "You know what? I'm actually not sorry. Since you walked in, I can't think fucking straight. I should be professional, I know that, but all I can think about since you stepped into my studio are all the different ways I could fuck you senseless inside of this god damn place. I just want to-"

You didn't let him finish as you closed the distance between you in light speed and crashed your lips against his.

He caught you around your waist reflexively as he tensed up for a second, but then his restrain snapped as grabbed you by your neck and janked you flush against his chest.

A small moan left your lips when your hips connected with his and you felt him hard against your stomach.

You felt his tongue graze over your teeth, asking you for entrance and without thinking twice you let him in. Your tongues started a instant battle for dominance, as you moved your hands through his silken hair and tugged slightly.

You could feel him smirk against your lips as he pushed you back until your ass connected with the desk.

His hands wandered down your sides, setting every inch of clothed skin on fire until he reached your thighs, he gave you a little nudge and you jumped enough to up wrap your legs around his waist thightly.

His hips pushed you onto the table hard and another moan left you at the sensation. His mouth started traveling from your lips onto your neck where his tongue drew lazy circles over your sensitive spot. You felt the fabric of his shirt wrinkle under your tightly fisted hands on his chest as you moaned his name.

One of his hands rested flatly on the desk while his other sneaked over your shoulder in a feather light touch and pulled your straps down, fully in contrast to his wicked tongue. "Please." You bagged as you tugging on his shirt.

He sucked sharply on your neck in response, as your head fell back from the sensation. "Please, what sweetheart? Use your words."

Your back arched as he kissed his way further down your neck. He softly pushed down your tanktop until it pooled at your hips as he clasped open your Bra with his other hand. Out of the corner from your eye you saw your Bra flying to a random corner. "P-please touch me." You begged again as your hand went back to his hair and fisted it?

His indexfinger travelled from your bare right shoulder down onto your hard nipple, where he gave you a slight pinch. "That's what I'm doing right now, no?"

Before you could respond his mouth cupped your other boob and his teeth grazed your sensitive skin.

You pulled on his shirt frantically, desperate to feel his skin under your finger tips. As a whine left your lips, the feeling already overwhelming but at the same time not enough. He released your boob with a pop. "So responsive." He smirked and pulled the shirt over his head to give you a perfect view of his incredible physic.

You let your hand wander over his soft and muscular skin. A growl left his lips as he gripped your wrist and yanked you towards him, his lips crashing on yours in a devouring kiss again.

He unbuttoned your jeans in a swift move and linked his thumbs in the fabric of your jeans as he janked town both your pants and underwear down in one move.

His indexfinger with the golden ring travelled up your bare tigh before it disappeared between your legs where he raked a finger through your soaking folds. Your head fell back in bliss. "Gods"

San eyed your expressions like a hawk, as he cupped you and dipped a two fingers inside of you. Your walls tightened against him as he started pumping inside of you. Your hand gripped his biceps forcefully as your hips rocked against his fingers, taking everything you would get.

Endless moans echoed through the studio as he crashed his lips back on yours. He slightly bit your bottom lip as he curled his fingers inside of you which made you scream out his name.

You could feel your release rapidly build inside of you. "Please.... I'm..." You managed to say, but it was all to overwhelming.

San shook his head with a smirk as he removed his fingers from inside of you. "You're finished when I let you. And I'm dying for a taste." He all but purred before he settled between your legs and looked up at you directly.

It took all your left restrained to not come at that sight directly, and he seemed to notice it, because he grabbed your knees and spread you apart further before he placed your legs on his shoulders.

His smile was deadly as he eyed your bareness before him and dived in light speed.

His tongue laid flat against you as he swiped up your center, your head rolled back as a loud moan left your lips.

San's hands flexed around your thighs as he pulled you closer to wards him. He backed up enough to look back at you. "I want you to look at me, sweetheart."

Your eyes found him reflexively as he dived back in and dipped his tongue inside of you. A rumbling moan left his lips as he started devouring you like a starved man.

While your hips ground against his face shamelessly and greedily. You felt your climax build up in light speed as your legs started trembling. He sucked in your bundle of nerves once twice and your hands gripped his fair painfully. "Come." He ordered and thats all it took as you screamed his name and started seeing stars.

Your release washed over you in intense waves as he picked up every drop of you greedily. You were still shaking uncontrollably as he got up and pulled you flush against his bare chest. His lips found yours and you could taste yourself on him as he spinned you around and bend you down on the desk.

You heard him shuffle and open a condom behind you as your head laid on the side, eying the crying angel stature.

His hand trailed up your spine sensually as he wedged his bare leg between yours and spread your legs apart. You felt his chest against your back, and your ass instinctively pushed back against him.

You felt him twitch against your entrance, as his mouth nipped on your ear before he gave you another soft kiss on your neck.

Without another warning he gripped your hair in his hand and janked your head back as he slammed into you fully. A scream left your lips at the feel of him inside you.

San's voice sounded taut as he pounded into you with enough force to make the whole table move. "Fuck, you're tight."

You slammed your ass back against his hips in desperation as he pulled out of you almost fully and slammed back into you. "You're perfect." He groud out betwen his teeth before his lips found your shouder where he gave you a small kiss.

The glass you set on the table ealier, spilled more and more water on the table but you couldn't give less of a fuck as it just like you for the second time in a row edged closer to destruction.

His lips slammed back on yours as he picked up speed, a trail of moans left both your lips as he pounded in you mercilessly. The scandalous sound of smaking skin, moaning and harsh breathing almost overshadowed the scraping of the table as it moved further and further towards the wall opposite of you.

His movements grew slowly erratic, indicating you that he too was close. As his other hand wandered between your legs where his index finger drew lazy circles around your bud.

You screamed his name as you started shaking and saw blinding white light and stars. His other hand drew soothing circles against your back, much in contrast to his harsh thrusts that had his balls slamming against you with force repeatedly and said. "Let go."

Your back arched and your ass slammed back against him with force as your hands gripped the edge of the desk so hard it was starting to hurt as another scream raked through your body and shattered you into sweet oblivion.

San cursed under his breath as you felt him twitch hard inside your spasming walls. He thrust in you a few more more times, before he too came apart inside of you with a curse of your name on his lips as he rode out both your highs.

Once your both caught your breath a bit he pulled out of you slowly but continued drawing soothing circles on your back. "You know, I've been dreaming of seeing you again from the moment I saw you that day by the namsan tower years back."

Your eyes snapped open in shock, that day you saw him, you realized now. Across the crowd you noticed him and his friends and already back then your breath caught in your lungs.

You've been staring at one another for few seconds when he made a step towards you, waving some of of the peddles from his view.

You were just about to make a step towards them too before your best friend pulled you with her towards the boarding bus.

It followed you for a while on vacation, but you eventually forgot about him. Hell, you didn't even trust yourself that you didn't make the whole thing up back then seeing as your best friend didn't see them at all and said you're crazy.

His Hand massaged the back of your neck under your hair softly. "You asked about the mug earlier, I made it as first art piece once I arrived back home. I was searching for you everywhere that day after you left with your friend, but I couldn't find you."

You set back up on the table as he went up to the sink to wet up a clean cloth, you didn't notice it before but you saw now that he was wearing his underwear again and a loose white shirt.

You pulled up your tanktop again but were still in shock about his recent words. "It's been you? I wasn't sure if I didn't make you up in my mind. My best friend didn't see you guys and said I'm delusional." You laughed to yourself as you already looked forward to clowning her about the whole thing.

After he carefully cleaned you up, he sat you back down on your feet and you quickly pulled up your pants as he did the same.

"Wooyoung never really stopped looking for your friend either by the way. He said she would be his perfect muse." He said with a smirk that highted his dimples even more.

A soft laugh escaped you as a thought formed in your mind. "You just gave me an idea for her next single workshop." San mirrored your knowing smirk as he laced your hand with his and led you towards the work station and your almost finished vase.

He turned towards you with a shy smile. "It might be a bit out of order, but would you like to go on a date with me? I would love to see where our story goes."

You gave him a big smile in return and nodded your head. "I would actually love that."

He took a seat on his spinning chair and pulled you onto his lap before he gave you a kiss on your temple and turned he workstation back on before wet his hands. "Let's start with finishing up your work first."

--

A/n: I tried to proofread this FF as best as I could, but English isn't my first language, and I'm dyslexic so I apologize for the eventual mistakes. I hope you liked this ff.

Little Bonus: I found this while looking for inspos for the thumbnail pic. ♡

[utilitycaster]

Idk how to articulate this but in regards to a lot of defense of certain elements of C3 being that they “make sense” in universe, (Ashton becoming indecisive, the party not knowing each other well because of the little passage of time, the party not having stakes in much of things,) it’s always very misguided because something can make sense in universe and still be a really bad writing decision. Especially if you’re trying to respond to an out of universe criticism with in universe logic.

Correct. I think there are two big problems with these arguments. The first, is as you said, the fact that these Doylist critiques (story poorly structure, party lacks investment) are being met with Watsonian defenses (makes sense for the party). We're saying "the party should have been given a reason for investment in the beginning."

The second is, and I've been reluctant to point this out because the bulk of hate I've gotten has been (largely false and frankly idiotic) claims of hypocrisy. But man is a lot of this hypocritical, the defense of Ashton specifically. Like, yes, Ashton is someone who's had a difficult life and frequently had very little power, so the fact that they do have power now isn't something they are used to. However, and this really is the even larger problem, just because a sentient being has a reason for feeling a certain way does not in fact mean that acting on it is excused from criticism. Ashton also learned he contained the shard of a titan only a few weeks ago; why aren't we granting the same "well, it's new, let them process" it to the party's fixation on avenging the titans? Why are we getting this from people who frequently treated Orym as "irrational" and bent on nothing but vengeance for deaths he'd carried for six years and had thought about extensively? Hey, Ludinus is acting from trauma! So is Liliana, according to a lot of these people. If acting from trauma is always valid, then criticism of any of these people is cut off. So clearly, what you do with that trauma matters!

You can feel any way about anything, but how you act matters, and time and time again, a huge number of Bells Hells and Campaign 3 fans have argued that actually it doesn't, and if you've ever had your choices curtailed your lack of agency means you are entitled to do whatever the fuck you want. It extends to themselves as well - doesn't matter if (for example) there's absolutely no indication that Gelvaan's issue with Imogen was homophobia or misogyny and in 118 episodes there hasn't been - if you feel like Imogen's experience is relatable to your real-world one where those were factors then obviously your feelings are right so who cares about like, the facts of the situation! You're new to the campaign! You can't be EXPECTED to LOOK THINGS UP and THINK.

You know what I realized, upon answering this question: I don't know if Ludinus realized that the impact of reaching out to Predathos would be the ruin of Molaesmyr; I don't think he was terribly worried about consequences but I do think it's fair to say "he might have not realized how badly this could go, and was surprised as any by the result". Just someone following a path because they were hurt and traumatized and not thinking things through. We keep talking about how Bells Hells might be remembered as Vespin Chloras, and they might be remembered as such, but Vespin was an arrogant but genuinely competent and even, arguably, well-intentioned person with a clear plan that was ultimately a gross underestimate. I think they're more likely to be just fuck-ups in the dark who could cause mass destruction because they cared far, far more about the hurt they'd received than the world around them.

[loolilyumm]

I really like your interpretation of 3! Would be super excited to hear more about your 8 (or any other characters) :D

YAY THANKS FOR THE ASK!!! And I am so sorry about the late reply. I literally forgot I had this drafted 😭 I actually already rambled on about 8 a couple of posts ago - If you scroll down (or look for the agent 8 tag on my acc) you’ll find it! I think so much about her I hope you enjoy…!!!!!!! I’m so happy you like my little guys :))))))

AHEM Since you said..any other characters….I DO HAVE OTHER CHARACTERS!!!!! NOW I AM GOING TO YAP ABOUT MY AGENT 4!!!

THIS IS ELLIS! I actually love drawing him so much. I will admit that I have not thought too much about his backstory BUUTTT he makes up for it in personality!

Ellis was about 16 during splatoon 1, and he moved to the city for college when he was 18. Shortly after, he was recruited to the NSS by Marie. As of splatoon 3, he is 21 years old! He mains the Slosher Deco.

He is a freakishly tall lanky dude. He’s very book smart but acts goofy and stupid and snarky and lacks common sense. He’s a bit of a flirt and Marie acts like she can’t stand him. They tease each other a lot but they genuinely care for each other a LOT! But they’d never admit it!! Ew gross!!

He feels like a bit of a disappointment to his parents because he was supposed to be going to this fancy college in the city, but ended up leaving it and becoming an agent full time. PLUS he can’t tell them that he’s a secret agent saving the world, so they just think he works at a gas station or something 😭

Hero mode was a totally new experience for him. Marie never doubted him though. Now he’s an extremely talented agent. He’s really good at coming up with strategies and is extremely intelligent on the battlefield. He’s just so goofy that everyone forgets he’s actually smart.

In the beginning, he didn’t know who the squid sisters were at ALL because he basically lived under a rock until moving, and he was like, “pff, you can’t be that big of a deal.” LMAO.

He and Marie quickly became best frenemies. They often teased each other and had a lot of good banter and really good chemistry. Ellis developed a little crush on her but never thought it would be reciprocated!

One night, Ellis was injured on a mission. He is very deliberate about his missions, always having a plan - so he rarely gets injured.

When he came back, he saw a side of Marie that he’d never seen before. She was worried for him, helping him with his injury. The two of them realized that this was serious work. Ellis could have died. It also brought Marie to a realization. She really, really cared about agent 4. There was maybe a little crush starting to form…!!!

But the two of them STILL haven’t done anything about it. It’s been 3 YEARS. They are the definition of slow burn. Just because neither of them wants to admit that they like the other.

Near the end of splatoon 2 hero mode, Ellis became an agent full time and dedicated all his time to finding Callie. And they did!!!!! It was super awesome yay!!!!!

Currently, the NSS is bigger than ever before and they even made agent 3 the captain.

Ellis is still a goofball and loves to be silly with Callie and agent 8 (Olive.) Those two are like his sisters. The New agent 3 (Margot) is a little off putting but that doesn’t bother Ellis at all. Every once in a while, he works a salmon run shift with her, and it’s crazy how good she is.

Ellis understands that 3 and 8 went through a lot down in the metro and wants to do anything he can to help them free the sanitized octolings. (This is what led to him working on the memverse with Marina!) Sometimes the agents go down to the empty remains of Kamabo to see if they can find anyone. They are usually unsuccessful but it seems to clear 8’s conscience.

I still don’t really understand side order. Um. I kind of didn’t like how it was all virtual 😭 maybe I will make it a little different just for the sake of story. Idk yet. But yea!

That’s all I have on Ellis, he’s my boy! I think he’s my favorite to draw, and his design has been the only one not to undergo any change.

And that concludes my agent yap sessions! If you guys want to know anything about them (or send them asks or something) my askbox is always open! I love answering questions :) ((even if I am a little slow ahhhh sorry!!))

But yeah!! I’ll make official character sheets and stuff sometime soon :D thanks so much for sticking around if you made it this far!! 🫶🫶

[247-diaperboy]

Diapered Pledges

“Bro, check out these fucking pledges. We have them in diapers this year. Fucking hilarious.”

Matthew stared at his frat brother Tim’s phone of the new pledges.

“Those aren’t diapers. They’re pull-ups,” he said as he sipped a beer.

Tim put his phone down, looked at his buddy strangely. “What?”

Now Matthew went silent. Fuck.

“What?”

“You said they’re not diapers, they’re pull-ups. Okay? What the fuck’s the difference?”

“Nothing. No, you’re right, they’re diapers.”

“You seem really knowledgeable about what and what is not a diaper, buddy. Why is that?”

Matthew scoffed. “Come on, I just, it’s nothing.”

Fucking Tim. Always was a ballbuster. He knew Tim was just shitting with him – right? – but he had to nip this in the bud too.

“Yo. Tell me now why you know the difference between diapers and, what was it, pull-ups? Or I tell all the other brothers I found you wearing diapers.”

“What? Fuck off, man, you did not.”

“You’re right. But I will tell everyone and they will believe me. So, buddy. Answer me.”

“Everyone knows. Those are, just, like, you can see those are, like, slimmer and shit. I don’t know, I saw a commercial once.”

“You saw a commercial. That explained the difference between adult diapers and adult pull-ups. And you stored that information in your brain for just this occasion. And, hey, why you blushing?”

Was he, Matthew wondered? He did feel a bit flush, which happens to diaper fetishists when people start to know their secret.

“Just drop it, it’s funny. They’re in diapers. It’s cool, love seeing the pledges humiliated.”

Matthew felt Tim still staring at him.

“All right. I won’t tell the brothers. Gonna email Katie though and tell her I can’t keep a secret anymore that I found adult diapers under your bed.”

Katie, his girlfriend. Tim wouldn’t. “Come on, dude. Stop it. Stop fucking with me. If anyone has a weird thing it’s you.”

“Sure. Diaperboy. Matthew the diaperboy. Mr. Diaper Encyclopedia. Diaperboy Matty.”

Horrifically, Matt felt himself getting hard under his shorts. All this talk of diapers. And exposure. And his girlfriend finding out. and being taunted and bullied by a frat brother. Of course he’d squirted into his Pampers many times imagining his frat finding out, maybe turning him into a frat baby, keeping him in a crib, outing him to the college as a diaper-wearing faggot. Making him wear soiled diapers to class. But that was fantasy. He didn’t actually want it. But did his cock?

Tim was now smiling at Matthew. “Diaper. Boy.”

With that Tim reached over and felt his frat brother’s cock.

“Hey, fuck off!” Matthew yelled.

Tim burst out laughing. He’d felt the hardness. He shook his head. “Diaperboy Matthew. Diaperboy Matthew. My little diaperboy all grumpy? Huh? Need a diaper change? Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you have diapers and not pull-ups. Oh yeah, I gotta tell the guys this.”

With that he bounded away. Matthew sat there, terrified. Afraid of what was to come. His cock had given him away. Where would it lead? Him being paraded around sororities in his diapers, sucking a paci, his frat bros holding a leash as they pranced him around campus? That was the thought in his mind as he rubbed his cock and that’s what the other frat brothers saw when they walked in on Matthew. Who would now, and forever more, be known as Diaper boy Matthew.

[martiae]

from me to you | pepe martí

“all of the girls you’ve loved before, made you the one i’ve fallen for” ♡ (inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before!)

synopsis: you’ve been in love with your childhood best friend since you were 6. when you were 13, you decided to start writing love letters to him. you never planned on sending them but they somehow made their way to his house?

pairing: pepe marti x reader (y/n) adler | genre: highschool au, smau, fluff, slight angst | warnings: some cursing, suggestive jokes from christian (haha), gianna/gigi is an oc, y/n is kind of irritating because she assumes a lot !!

chapter 2 : the diner

now playing : breaking news — flowerovlove

you sighed before putting your phone down on the table, your anxiety rising as you realize what you’re doing at this place.

after gianna left you alone with pepe after school, you were able to steer both of your guys ways to this diner.

it gave you more time to plan your words, no, your sentences. you needed to make sure you didn’t say anything that you’ll regret. obviously pepe was mad, his face has told you a lot.

your thoughts were put on pause when you saw a strawberry milkshake be carefully placed in front of you. you glanced up and saw the small smile on his face. he carefully slid into the booth, facing you directly as he pulled his milkshake towards himself.

“um..” you let out.

his eyes dart towards yours, his eyebrows raising.

“thank you. i could’ve paid for myself” you thanked.

a small smile appeared on his face, his head softly shaking.

“you could’ve, but, i didn’t want you to” he said.

your stomach turned, your eyes lingering on his face as he sipped his milkshake.

it was true, all of what you wrote. you can’t remember everything but you still feel as if those things and feelings are true. they definitely still exist too.

“so..” he let out, his posture straightening as he put his elbows on the table.

his eyes had the certain sparkle to them, the very pretty one. he looked at you with an intense gaze, his face looking more neutral.

“after forcing me to get you a milkshake..will you finally speak?”

your mouth opened in surprise, a small smile appearing on your face.

“force?” you asked, a small chuckle coming out.

“i think i chose the right word. you said nothing but ‘follow me’ after i asked you if we could talk about it!” he replied with a smile.

well he wasn’t necessarily wrong. but you didn’t expect him to follow you, or pay for your food, or look at you with such an endearing expression.

“well..what do you want to talk about?” you coughed out guiltily.

a grin appeared on his face, his head tilting to stare at you more efficiently.

“were those letters real?”

“i’m not sure what letters you’re talking about. maybe if you considered telling me what they said id be able to respond effectively” you responded.

“you’re like a robot” he said with a laugh.

you shrugged your shoulders, biting your straw to try to not show your utter fear.

pepe’s face became slightly red, his eyes not meeting yours.

“what? what’d they say?” you asked with genuine concern.

you felt the embarrassment a mile away. if pepe was getting second hand embarrassment, you didn’t even want to know.

“nevermind! don’t say it! please i rather not hear it..” you interjected.

he finally looked at you, sensing you about to say more.

“look, i haven’t written a single letter since sophomore year. i don’t even want to know what it said but just know that it’s most likely really old! and not important or relevant anymore.” you explained with a loud sigh.

“it’s not relevant anymore?” he asked.

“yeah probably not. i totally forgot what i was talking about in those things” you said with a very fake chuckle.

“oh…” he let out, an unreadable expression on his face.

“so, don’t worry about it anymore!” you reassured.

“alright..” he said with a hint of uncertainty.

you knew it was wrong to lie. you knew that lying was something you didn’t really want to do; however, lying was the only realistic thing to do.

often times, the things we can’t say are the most important.

you wish you could say that you were in love with him. but, you couldn’t.

you know that you never could confess to him. confessing to him meant that you’d have to move on, and that was something that you knew would never happen. liking him in silence was the best option, and your original option.

you guys quickly began to catch up, his voice and laugh and attentiveness making your heart skip a beat.

it was nice: when things were like this. his laughter filling your ears, your conversation never ending, and the reason why you guys were here seemingly being unimportant.

“you didn’t have to walk me home” you told, a small smile appearing nevertheless.

pepe smiled back, “the sun is setting. what kind of guy would let a girl walk home alone?”

“a normal guy” you replied back.

“well i am not normal”

yeah. he isn’t a ‘normal’ guy. that’s why things between you two can never happen.

when you both reached your front porch, you turned to face him.

“your house still looks the same!” he exclaimed

you giggled, “of course. you know that my mom hates changing things”

pepe laughed, “yeah. you’re right about that one.”

“pepe! is that you?” a voice called.

“oh speaking of her!” you let out with an amused chuckle.

“oh! good evening tía!”

“pepe! oh wow look at you, you look so handsome!” your mom sang as she approached him.

“thank you..” he shyly nodded.

“come over for dinner someday, okay?” she said with a smile.

pepe nodded with a small smile, “i will”

your mom nodded with a pleased expression, slowly putting her hand on your shoulder.

“it’s cold out. let’s go inside now”

“alright!” you said.

“see you again tía! bye (name)” pepe waved.

your mom waved and you said goodbye, a warm smile appearing on your face.

“it’s been a while since i’ve seen pepe. it’s nice to see him. bring him over for dinner sometime” your mom commented.

“yeah, okay.” you agreed.

it has been a while. i guess it wouldn’t hurt to invite him over again.

[alexa-fika]

The apprentice’s apprentice (Chp 1)

Lesson 1:Don’t Anger The Captain

Prologue

A/N Omg guys I have been wanting to start actually doing series for a bit and I decided to start with this one! I ‘m still deciding if I want to do more than one series at the same time since I ‘m still backed up on requests but I am really exited for this project!!!

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers alike!

Most Grammar mistakes here are in purpose to better portray Dokucha/reader’s age and if they are not 🤫

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

“Dokucha, don’t go far. We don’t know what’s on this island.” 

“Oey Ayeigh!” Dokucha responded with a skip on their step as they hurried off, excited at the promise of new land to survey and explore

“There they go again; I swear it’s like talking to a wall!” Rayleigh grumbled as he made his way down the slipway

“Wahahaha! Don’t worry so much, Ray! They will be fine, let them be a kid.” Roger laughed, not far behind his first mate. 

“You’re too soft on them, Roger, you leave them be, and next thing you know, they will be bickering over nonsense like those two!”

“H-Hey!” Buggy protested, a frown painting his face at the accusation 

“Dahahah!”

“What are you laughing at, idiot? He means you, too!”

“What did you say?!” 

“You two better not start squabbling!” Rayleigh snapped, rolling his eyes as the two were quick to look away from each other in a petty display

“But Rayleigh, you also cuddle them!” Buggy accused as he pointed at the man, letting out a yowl as his comment got him a fist on his head

“Serves you right!” Shanks snickers

“Regardless, what are you trying to do here, Roger? Even if Whitebeard was spotted around here, what makes you think he will come here? Are you just going to wait for someone you don’t know will come?” Gaban questioned, joining his crewmates

“He will come! I am sure of it!” The Captain proudly stated

“You don’t know that, Roger,” Rayleigh sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose at his Captain’s antics.

Meanwhile, Dokucha made themselves to the edge of islands some ways away from where the Oro Jackson had anchored. Within minutes, they let out a grin as they had found what they had hoped to find: plant life.

Despite their young age, Dokucha had begun to show interest in plants. Initially, it had begun as a simple attraction to the vivid colors and different shapes, just as many kids their age. However, upon learning from Crocus that plants could be used to treat people in different inflictions, they had found themselves trying to learn all they could about plants, always asking their uncles and brothers to read them books regarding the topic, although still unable to read thanks to this help they had become able to identify a small array of plants and were always on the lookout for plants they could show the crew, happy to show off these skills.

Happy with their find and current stash, they picked themselves up, ready to make their way back to their family. However, they stopped at the sight of something off the coast, which urged them to make haste back to the crew.

-

“Capi!” They called as they ran towards the man, stumbling in their hurry to reach them and deliver the news

“Ah!” They cried, extending their hands to protect themselves, closing their eyes tightly in preparation for the fall, only for another pair of arms to slide under their shoulders to hold them up; confused by the lack of movement, they slowly opened their eyes, catching sight of two dismembered hands holding onto them

“Dokucha! Be careful!” Buggy scolded as he willed his hands to return to his body, bringing with them the child

“Sorry” 

“What were you in such a hurry for anyways?” Rayleigh cut in

“I saw maenes!”

“Manes?” He questioned

“No maines!” They corrected him

“Mains?” He tried

“No!” They cried. Rayleigh gave his crew a glance, silently asking for some help.

“What was it?” Buggy asked as the child turned to them

“Maines!”

“M-arines?” He questioned with a cry

“Yeah!” 

“Oh!! Now, this is perfect timing! We have something to kill the time while we wait for Whitebeard!” Roger boomed, a childish gleam escaping him as he spoke.

“Now then!” He started grabbing Dokucha from Buggy’s arms.

“Think you can take us to where you saw them?” He called with a grin as he put his hat on the child

“Yes! Capi!” Dokucha called excited at the prospect of leading the crew to their objective. They saluted the man as he placed them down and scurried their way to the field, not bothering to look behind them as they did.

Skidding to a stop as they arrived on the coast, they spun around, ready to announce their arrival, only to notice the crew had lagged behind. Most likely still talking amongst themselves as they slowly followed behind them.

“Awe, they’re slow!” They complained, their frown turning around as they felt their presence behind them, spinning around once again

“Capi, I beat yo…..” they paused, eyes widening at the men before them their ship and it's goverment symbol right behind them.

“Huh? Why is there a kid here?” The marine questioned

“They’re probably from a nearby village; civilians are quite nosy these days,” a nearby marine said, sending a disapproving frown at the child.

“Now hurry along, brat. The grownups have work to do,” they drawled, watching as the kid slowly backed away from them, stumbling once again. With no one to catch them, they fell to the ground, losing the hat that previously dwarfed them. They scrambled to take hold of it until one of the marines took it instead.

“Wait. This symbol….it’s the Roger pirates Jolly Roger!” The marine called at who Dokucha could only guess to be a commander

“So this brat is one of them?!” He growled, unsheathing his sword

“Go easy on them; they’re just a kid!” one of the soldiers called, though their tone did not offer any reassurance; instead, it was filled with mockery that unsettled the child.

“It’s better to pluck the weed before it becomes an invasion!” He exclaimed, raising his sword and swinging it down on the child 

‘Help!’ 

“W-What the hell?!” The marine cried, urging Dokucha to open their eyes in time to watch as screaming and wailing began escaping the ship as their mast came barreling down on them. Marines soon began to abandon the ship as a huge slash hit the side of the boat with a resounding boom, smoke, and fire following suit; they watched as the cut rapidly capsized the vessel as water poured in.

“I was looking for some fun, but it looks like you lads came looking for trouble; since you saw it reasonable to cut down one of my apprentices, I see it totally reasonable to cut down each of you, yes?” A voice seethed behind them. Had Dokucha not recognized the voice, they would have followed the marine’s actions as they, one by one, began to drop their weapons and attempted to run away, most of them not making it as far as an overwhelming force reached them, causing them to crumple down.

“Dokucha! Come on, we have to get out of the way!” Buggy cried as he scooped them up.

“Why? Capi is here!” They questioned, watching as they started making distance from said man, noticing how the rest of the crew had done the same

“Why is everyone over here?” 

“Listen, Dokucha! You don’t want to be close to the Captain when he gets angry. You don’t anger the Captain and get away with it!”

Dokucha observed the battlefield, kicking their legs as they took the scene in. Buggy’s words turned out to be nothing short of true, as all of the crew let the Captain handle things as he mercilessly massacred the whole brigade, staining the field with red with each cut until there was nothing more to cut, and it was only then that he appeared somewhat satisfied as he sheathed his sword, shaking it dry from the blood trickling from it. 

He leisurely approached one of the few surviving marines and lifted the man until he was on his knees, held up by the scruff of his shirt, his consciousness slipping away.

“You should have brought Sengoku or Garp with you! You guys are no fun,” he called mockingly. Dokucha watched as the Captain continued to taunt him with various words, turning her sight to Shanks. Now wearing the hat the marines had grabbed, he crouched on a fallen marine as he ate the marine’s food happily; at the feeling of being watched, he looked up, grinning at Dokucha.

“You okay, Dokucha?” He called

“Y-yeah!” They sputtered out, getting nervous as the teen furrowed his eyebrows at their words as he continued to watch them.

“Shans?” 

“Hey, you did well back there! Good job in spotting the marines. I ‘ll be sure to give you a treat when we’re done, okay?” He promised as he waved the chocolate in his hands, watching as they beamed at the praise and nodded their head vigorously, stopping at the squeak their brother behind them let out.

“Buggie?”

“It-it’s the Whitebeard pirates!”

Please let me know what you guys think about this one!! Again I am so exited for this!! I ‘ve got a whole draft if the whole thing going and everything 😂

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[earthlybeam]

May I request a Glorfindel or Feren with a modern human stuck in middle earth who can’t sleep with it dark. Like back home they have fairy lights and the tv on low? 😅 sorry if requests are closed arent open or you don’t take them I’m new to your blog 😅

Hey there! No worries, I’m totally happy to take requests, and I’m excited to write this for you! 😊 I love the idea of a modern human stuck in Middle-earth, especially with something as relatable as not being able to sleep in the dark. I’ll make sure to incorporate that longing for the little comforts of home, like the fairy lights and low TV. I’ll also give Glorfindel or Feren some cute moments of confusion with these modern items—they’re bound to be curious about those!

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Glrofindel, Feren Version below

☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

Glorfindel x Modern Human (You)

The nights in Rivendell were beautiful, almost unbearably so. The stars shone like scattered diamonds across an inky sky, the air was crisp and cool, and the ever-present sound of waterfalls in the distance gave the valley an ethereal quality. For most, it was a paradise—a place of unparalleled serenity. For you, it was anything but. The stillness pressed against you like a weight. Back home, there was always something—a hum of electricity, the faint murmur of the city outside your window, the comforting glow of your fairy lights strung above your bed. Even the soft murmur of a TV playing low in the background was enough to make the night feel less lonely. Here, in Middle-earth, there was only darkness and silence. And though Rivendell’s tranquility was breathtaking during the day, at night it became overwhelming.

You tossed and turned on the plush elven bedding, the softest sheets you’d ever felt, but it didn’t matter. Sleep refused to come. The room was too quiet, too shadowy, too… unfamiliar. You tried closing your eyes, pulling the blanket tighter around you, but the ache of homesickness gnawed at you. You didn’t belong here. The softest knock pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. It was so gentle you thought you might have imagined it. Sitting up, you called out, “Come in.” The door creaked open to reveal Glorfindel. His golden hair shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and the warm concern in his blue eyes was enough to make your chest ache. He stepped into the room with his characteristic grace, carrying a small lantern in one hand and a bundle of books in the other.

“I thought you might need some company,” he said, his voice low but warm. His eyes swept over you, taking in your rumpled blankets and tired expression. “I sensed your unease.” You managed a weak smile, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, I guess I’m not really used to this.” You gestured vaguely at the room, at the stillness. “It’s… so different here. Back home, I’d have fairy lights, maybe the TV on… something to make it feel less… lonely. It’s stupid, I know.” Glorfindel’s brows furrowed slightly, his confusion evident. He tilted his head slightly, looking as though he had not quite understood. “Fairy lights?” His voice was tinged with curiosity. “What are these?”

You blinked, suddenly realizing that the things you took for granted in your world didn’t exist in his. “Uh, they’re little lights, like tiny bulbs, that glow softly and are usually hung up to make a room feel cozy. Like… decorative lights. You know, for mood lighting?” He looked puzzled, a frown tugging at his lips. “Lights… for mood?” You sighed, trying to explain. “Yeah, kind of. They’re not like regular lights, they’re just to make things look nice. To make it feel… comforting.” Glorfindel’s expression softened slightly, but he still seemed unsure. “I see,” he said slowly, nodding. Then, his gaze shifted, as though he had remembered something. “And this… television? What is that?”

You blinked in surprise. “Oh, right, of course, you wouldn’t know. Um, it’s a screen, like a big box, where people can watch moving pictures and hear voices. It’s like… entertainment. To make the silence less oppressive.” The look on his face was almost childlike in its confusion. “A box… that shows moving pictures?” You chuckled softly, realizing how odd your world must sound to him. “Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but it’s a huge part of how we pass the time, you know? The TV’s always on in the background, and it helps with the quiet. Kind of like… having company.”

Glorfindel looked down at his hands, processing the information. “I think I understand, though it is a strange concept. Moving pictures… in a box?” His lips quirked into a small smile. “I cannot imagine how something so… small, could hold so much.” You laughed softly. “Yeah, well, it’s a lot more complex than it sounds.” He nodded, clearly intrigued by the idea. “But what if… one does not wish to watch such things? What then?” You shrugged, offering him a small, tired smile. “That’s when I’d just leave it on low—kinda like background noise, if that makes sense. Helps me sleep when I feel weird about the dark.” Glorfindel’s gaze softened, as if he truly understood the undercurrent of your words. He moved closer, setting the lantern on the bedside table, its warm glow casting flickering shadows on the walls. “I may not have these ‘fairy lights’ or this ‘television,’ but I can try to ease your unease, mellon nín.”

Before you could say anything, he reached into his tunic and produced a small, crystalline object. It was beautifully cut, gleaming faintly in the lantern’s glow, and you tilted your head in curiosity. “What’s that?” you asked, wondering what he might be planning next. Glorfindel smiled softly, as though pleased by your curiosity. “A crystal of light,” he explained. “We use them in Rivendell for our festivals, and they help to light our way when the moon is hidden. I thought perhaps it might remind you of your… fairy lights.”

He placed the crystal beside the lantern and then murmured a soft phrase in Sindarin. The crystal began to glow faintly, casting a warm, golden light across the room. It wasn’t bright, but the flickering glow was comforting, like the tiny bulbs of your fairy lights. You stared at it, your heart feeling unexpectedly lighter. “How did you…?” He tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I may not understand your world completely, but I can try to bring some semblance of it here.” Tears pricked at your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, embarrassed by how touched you were. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“There is more,” Glorfindel said, lifting the bundle of books he had brought with him. “You mentioned this ‘television.’ While I cannot provide such a thing, perhaps a story will suffice? A voice, even a humble one, can fill the silence.” You stared at him, incredulous. “You’d really do that?” He chuckled softly, his deep, rich laughter filling the quiet room. “I would. I am in no hurry to sleep, and I find joy in aiding my friends.” Your heart fluttered at his words, and you gave a small, grateful nod. “Alright, then. I’m listening.”

Glorfindel settled into the chair beside your bed, opening the first book—a collection of ancient elven tales, written in both Sindarin and Westron. As he began to read, his voice filled the room—a soothing, melodic tone that wrapped around you like a blanket. The golden glow of the crystal and lantern cast faint shadows on the walls, the light dancing in time with his words. The familiar ache of homesickness began to ebb, replaced by the calm reassurance of his presence. You found yourself focusing less on the strangeness of this world and more on the warmth of Glorfindel’s voice, the subtle inflections and rhythms as he recited the tale of Beren and Lúthien. He read with such care, pausing now and then to glance at you, ensuring you were still comfortable.

The gentle glow of the crystal and the lantern bathed the room in warmth, the shadows no longer pressing in around you. With each word, the familiar ache of homesickness slowly faded away. The sound of his voice, so steady and calming, eased the quiet panic in your chest. As your eyes grew heavier, you caught him murmuring, “Rest well, mellon nín. You are not alone, not while I am here.” For the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him. The faint light, the soothing sound of his voice, and the steady presence of the golden-haired elf beside you were enough to finally ease you into sleep. And as you drifted off, you thought, maybe Middle-earth wasn’t so bad after all.

🤎𝓕𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷

Feren x Modern Human (You)

You lay in your small room within the heart of Mirkwood, staring up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling. The air was thick with stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves from the forest outside. The forest, majestic and ancient, seemed to wrap around you, yet the silence it offered pressed heavily upon your chest. There was no hum of the city streets, no distant buzz of electronics, no gentle noise from people milling about that you could hear back home. Here, in Middle-earth, the quiet was all-encompassing, and you found it suffocating.

Back in your world, you would have had the soft glow of fairy lights lining the windows, twinkling like stars in the night. Their gentle shimmer always made you feel safe. Along with the lights, there would be the calming background noise of a TV on low, a comforting hum as you drifted into sleep. But here, there were no lights to chase away the shadows or the comforting sounds of a familiar world. The dark felt oppressive, as though it had weight, and it seemed to stretch endlessly around you.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you turned over in bed, trying to get comfortable. The night seemed impossibly long, the darkness creeping into the corners of the room. Even the soft rustling of the leaves outside, which might have been soothing to someone else, only made you feel more alone. You could almost hear the sound of your own heartbeat as you fidgeted beneath the blanket, tossing and turning in frustration. You couldn’t help but feel out of place, like a small speck lost in the vastness of the world.

As if on cue, a gentle knock sounded on your door, and you froze. The door creaked open slowly, and a tall figure stepped inside, blocking the faint light from the hallway. It was Feren, his silhouette tall and graceful against the dim backdrop of the night. “Y/n?” His voice was soft and steady, though there was a note of concern woven in. “I heard you moving about. Is everything well?” You turned toward him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. The last thing you wanted was for him to worry about you. But here, in this strange place, where everything was so different from what you knew, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I… I can’t sleep,” you admitted, sitting up slightly in the bed. “I’m not used to the dark like this. Back home, I always had… lights. You know, like fairy lights? And a bit of noise, like the TV. It’s just too quiet here. I don’t know how to explain it, but I miss that. I miss the little bit of comfort.” Feren raised an elegant brow, his expression puzzled. “Fairy lights?” His voice was tinged with confusion, as if the concept were something from another world entirely. “And… television?”

You chuckled softly, realizing how strange it must sound to him. “Fairy lights are just little glowing lights, like tiny stars you can hang up. They don’t do anything except shine softly to make things feel cozy, to keep the darkness from swallowing everything. And television is… well, it’s like a box that shows moving pictures and makes sounds. It plays stories, music, or sometimes shows that make you feel like you’re not alone.” Feren’s brows furrowed slightly, and you could tell he was trying to piece together what you were saying. “Moving pictures? That sounds wondrous,” he mused, his voice rich with curiosity, “but… strange. And the lights, I think I understand. They chase away the dark, yes?”

You nodded. “Exactly. The lights make the room feel a little more alive. It’s hard to sleep when everything feels so… empty.” Feren looked at you thoughtfully, his gaze softening. “I see. Here, the darkness is not so much a thing to fear as it is a companion to our silence. The night moves with us, like a gentle embrace. The trees sing in the wind, and the creatures of the forest wander beneath the stars. But… I understand now. It is not the same for you. The quiet seems unnatural.” You looked at him, feeling a mixture of relief and gratitude. His willingness to try to understand your discomfort meant more than you could express. “I don’t know how you do it. I just… don’t know how to sleep like this. Without something familiar, without something to hold onto.”

Feren’s eyes softened even further, and he stepped closer to you, his movements graceful and quiet, like the night itself. “Then perhaps I can offer you something from my world,” he said gently. “I do not know of these fairy lights or this ‘television,’ but I know the comfort of the moonlit woods. If you walk with me, in the quiet of the garden, perhaps you will find a peace there. The night may be silent, but it is not without its beauty.”

You hesitated for only a moment, before nodding. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice fragile but willing. “That sounds nice. Just… no sudden noises, okay?” Feren smiled softly, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “I will be as quiet as the stars themselves.” He led you out into the night, through the grand, winding halls of the Elven palace, until you reached the garden. The air was cool and crisp, but not uncomfortably so. The ground beneath your feet was soft and damp from the evening dew, the earth rich with the scent of pine and earth. The sky was vast, the moon hanging like a pearl in the heavens, casting long shadows on the ground below. The stars were scattered across the sky, bright and steady.

As the two of you walked, Feren’s presence was a soothing balm against the unsettling silence of the forest. There was no need for the hum of artificial lights, no background noise to fill the space. The soft rustle of leaves in the trees, the occasional croon of distant night birds, the subtle movements of creatures hidden in the underbrush—these were the sounds that filled the air, but they were gentle, almost like whispers. Feren’s steps were as quiet as the breeze, and his calm presence beside you was enough to settle the restlessness gnawing at your mind. Occasionally, his gaze would drift toward you, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, his expression warm and understanding.

As you walked beneath the canopy of trees, you felt a surprising sense of comfort, the darkness no longer oppressive but rather a peaceful, enveloping thing. You didn’t need fairy lights or television in this moment; the stillness of the world around you, the quiet company of Feren, were enough. And as you finally returned to your room, you felt a new sense of peace. Maybe, just maybe, the silence wasn’t so bad after all. Feren lingered by the door, looking at you with a soft smile. “Sleep well, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice like a promise.

You nodded, feeling your body begin to relax. “Thank you, Feren.” And finally, with the comfort of his presence and the quiet beauty of Middle-earth surrounding you, sleep came—sweet, uninterrupted sleep. I’ve tried to enhance the sensory details while preserving the core emotional beats of the original! I hope this version is just what you were hoping for. Would you like me to adjust anything?

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

I just saw you were taking requests! :D Lately, I've been obsessing over Buck's and Dally's relationship. Do you think you could write something about them? Preferably a sickfic/whump, but no worries if not.

@fefe-the-cat I HOPE THIS DOES YOU JUSTICE!!! This is where I kinda admit I've never thought much about Dally 'n Buck but this was fun to explore!! TYSM for the ask!!! fic below the cut!!

CW: mentions of vomit and throwing up!! nothing graphic!!

Dallas rolls over, grabs the bucket he'd stolen from the shed 'n brings up the only thing left in his stomach: bile. Waves of nausea roll over him, causin' his shoulders to buck 'n his elbows to buckle from where he's tryin' to hold his weight. He lets himself collapse face down on the bed, buryin' his face in his sheets.

Shit.

He doesn't know why he thought he'd be over this by now. Glory, kill him now. He'd felt like shit yesterday mornin' when he'd woken up thrown unceremoniously into the back bedroom at Buck's. He hadn't been surprised, per say. Wakin' up at Buck's almost certainly meant he'd gotten piss drunk the previous night without one of the gang to drag his sorry ass back to Darry. He'd chalked the sickness in his stomach and heaviness in his limbs to forgettin' to stop before the tequila shooters.

That had become a harder beleif to hold as he crawled into bed last night feelin' worse then when he'd started. By the time he woke up this mornin' heavin' dinner he'd accepted it.

He finally stops chokin' on nothin' 'n sits up and against the wall. He was beginnin' to really regret not just draggin' his ass to the Curtis' place. But he didn't want to do that to Darry. He wasn't that selfish. If he wound up on their porch with the bug he'd pass it to Pony who would give it to Soda, would pass it over to Steve who'd hot potato it to Johnny and it would swiftly wind up with Two and finish out strong with Darry. Sickness made the ranks of the gang like clockwork.

No, he was determined to figure this one out himself. He'd be fine.

Dallas dragged his head off the mattress, instantly heavin' again. Fuck, how Darry could take care of all six of them without losin' his mind was beyond Dallas.

A knock pounds on the door and Dallas runs a hand over his mouth to wipe away the bile, scrubs over his face, pushes back his hair. "I'm not runnin' the fuckin' ponies today, Buck, piss off."

He's not necessarily surprised when, instead of retreatin', the door flies open. Not shocked but still irate. Buck stands in the doorway lookin' pissed as all get out before he gets a good look at Dallas. He softens instantly, cockin' one eyebrow.

"You look like shit." Dallas rolls flat onto his back, stares at the celin'.

"Gee, thanks." He pushes himself to sit when Buck doesn't leave. "Fuck off, I'm fine." Buck rolls his eyes. Well, that was new. Usually, when Dallas told him to get lost he'd mutter about some fuckin' kid who thought he could order his grown ass around 'n then promptly get lost.

"Move over." Buck crosses the room in three strides, not that it was impressive, the room was practically a renovated closet. Dallas was more amused with the fact it took him that many.

"Buck, leave me alone. I feel like shit, I'm not runnin' those fuckin' horses." Dallas squeezes his eyes shut 'n bites down hard to keep his teeth from chatterin'.

"Yeah, no shit." He nearly jumps out of his skin when Buck's hand comes down on his forehead. He snaps his eyes open again, bats his hand away.

"Buck, get the hell out of here, would ya?" He tries again. Buck pulls the cig that's burnin' down to nothin' from his mouth, stamps it out on the bottom of his boot, and tosses it out the open window. He reaches over 'n wiggles it shut. "I wanted that open." Dallas shoots him a glare even though he was gonna close it himself the second he got the man out of his room.

"That's probably why you got sick to start with. Close the fuckin' windows in winter, why doncha?" He rolls his eyes and sounds too much like Darry for comfort. Dallas kicks him in the thigh.

"I'm not sick." Buck actually laughs in his face.

"Sure. Do you vomit on the weekends for fun now?" He kicks the bucket Dallas dropped to the floor. Dallas glares at him. "Look, I'll go get that Darry guy, he can come scrape you off the ground." Buck goes to walk out 'n Dallas snags a hand around his wrist quick as quick.

"Leave Darry out of this." Buck stops, fixes him with a stare. "I don't want him to worry or nothin'."

Well. That wasn't the answer Buck had expected.

"Fine." He shakes Dallas' hand off 'n Dally lets it drop to the bed. "But I'm not gonna let you die in my back room. Bad for business." Dallas rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. Buck disappears into the hall, returns with a thermometer.

"I don't need that shit. I'm fine." Buck shoots him an incredulous look Dallas pointedly ignores.

"I don't really care if you think you don't need it. Either you're openin' up for it to I'll get Darry down here to open your mouth for you." Dallas scowls as Buck plays the only card in his hand. He wasn't sure what Darry Curtis had on the rabid dog that was Dallas Winston but whatever it is, does the trick. Dallas leans over 'n snatches the thermometer, shovin' it into his mouth. "Now keep it there. God knows it'll be hard since you can't ever seem to keep your mouth shut." Dallas shoots him a glare 'n he doesn't need words to convey how close he is to kickin' Buck's ass. Buck just grins.

After a long minute, Buck plucks the glass from Dallas' mouth 'n checks the readin'. He lets out a long, low whistle. "Holy shit, kid."

Dallas momentarily stops scowlin' 'n Buck swears he hasn't seen the vulnerable look on his face since Dallas was fourteen 'n rollin' into Tusla with an accent so strong you couldn't understand a damn thing he said and the hunted look of someone much, much older.

"I think you're out for the count, kid." Dallas is still so focused on the red line he forgets to be agitated with Buck for callin' him a kid. Buck puts one hand on his chest 'n pushes him back down to the pillows.

"What does it say?" Dallas puts up a decent, three-second fight before he goes white 'n grabs for the bucket. Buck worries his lip, runs a hand up the kid's back.

"Says you're sick, dumbass." Buck sighs, stands up once Dallas shoulders stop shakin'.

"Don't go." Dallas' hand snakes out again, this time fingers diggin' deep into Buck's wrist. He freezes, takes in Dallas' gaunt face, his sudden desperation.

"I'm not goin'. I'm gettin' you a glass of water since you've been yackin' nothin' since yesterday." Dallas hesitates a moment 'n Buck doesn't try to pry his fingers off.

"Fine. But don't you dare come back here with medicine. I won't take none of that nasty shit." Buck rolls his eyes and crosses back to the door.

"You'll take whatever I want you to so I don't have to have the cops carry your skinny ass out of here in a body bag." Buck pretends he doesn't see the middle finger Dallas throws as he leaves the room.

When he comes back the kid is suddenly much more subdued than he was when Buck left. Buck deposits the shot glass of cold syrup and water on the nightstand.

"What is it, kid?" Dallas leans back against the wall, pulls his knees up to his chest.

"Buck, am I gonna die?" And the question jars Buck so hard he chokes on whatever he was gonna say.

"Are you gonna what?" Dallas turns the full force of his cold, ice eyes to Buck.

"Die." He deadpans.

"What the hell made you think some little cold is gonna knock off the unkillable Dallas Winston?" Buck smooths a strand of white blonde hair from his forehead. He knows he must really be feelin' whatever bug he's caught when he doesn't fight it at all.

"I dunno. I don't get sick. Last time was... New York." He trails off, buries his head down in his knees. He doesn't need to clarify what he means.

"Yeah, well." Buck picks up the glass, forces it into Dally's hands. "This time you got people lookin' out for you. Ain't no stupid bug gonna kill you, kid."

Dallas takes the cup, swallows a tentative sip. "I guess."

"Look. You're tired. You're half delirious if the nonsense you're spittin' says anythin'. Just try to go to sleep. You'll wake up feelin' better." Buck takes the water, swaps it for the shot glass of medicine. Dallas knocks it back like he shoots vodka- makin' a face 'n then pretendin' he enjoyed it.

He eases Dallas back onto the bed, decides fuck it, the kid was as much Darry's problem as he'd once been Buck's. A million years ago. He'd call him once he got the kid down.

Dallas' eyes flicker shut, blonde lashes fannin' across his cheeks. Buck smooths his hair back one final time, pulls the blanket up 'n over him.

He's nearly out of the room when he hears Dalla's hoarse mutter. "What is it, kid?"

"Thanks, Buck. For everythin'." Buck isn't sappy or nothin' 'n if you asked he'd swear he had no idea what you were dreamin' up. But if he wipes a tear off his cheek as he pulls the door closed, well, it was deserved. He had a soft spot in his heart for that stupid kid. Sue him.

[svetamillss]

I will be the guardian of your dreams💤

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

Warnings: This is my first fanfic! Also, English is not my native language, so sorry for the mistakes! I just want to express my love for this beautiful woman!!

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It was a deep night. All players slept, tired after the first game. Still, there were too many shocks on the first day. Only Young-Hee still couldn't sleep, turning to the right side or left. All because the girl was afraid of the dark and since childhood could not fall asleep without her favorite plush rabbit and a small night light in the shape of a star. Here, unfortunately, she was absolutely alone. It even began to seem to her that someone was watching her from the other world, but it was just her fantasies out of fear.

- Hey, are you all right? - a quiet voice sounded nearby. Young-hee immediately realized who he belonged to. It was her new friend, whom they met at the first game, because if it wasn't for Hyun-ju, Young-Hee would have died. Hyun-Joo was brave and damn beautiful. Even though the girl was transgender, she was very attracted to Young-hee without realizing it.

- Yes, everything is fine. - she lied, she really didn't want her friend to worry about her. - Why aren't you sleeping?

- Thanks to the training, which took place for many years, I got a very sharp hearing. - the girl said with a grin. - And I also trained to recognize lies. So I feel like you're lying me. And it's very offensive.- she added too theatrically.

- It's just... I'm embarrassed to talk about it, because I not a small one.

- Do you mean you really want to go to the toilet?

- GOD, NO! - Young-Hee shouted with embarrassment, so much so that several people seemed to have woken up.

- Why shout like that? I was just kidding. Don't be afraid to tell me, I'll understand everything. - she comforted her with her tender voice.

- Good. I can't sleep because I'm scared. - the girl paused for a while, and then continued.

- Since early childhood, I have been afraid of the darkness, especially those who live in it. That's why I always slept with my plush rabbit and the night light on. I was so calm. And there is no such thing here and I can't do it any other way. It seems to me that monsters will attack me and kill me. - as soon as the girl finished the story, she looked at the next bed where Hyun-ju was lying, although she still won't be able to see the reaction, because there was nothing but darkness.

Hyun-Joo listened carefully and did not interrupt her friend, and when she finished, she smiled warmly saying:

- You could have told me earlier, silly.

- What do you mean? - she asked with incomprehension.

- I mean, you should have told me earlier what you're afraid of. This situation is easy to solve.

- And how? Those triangles would not give a night light. - but instead of an answer, she heard only a quiet laugh and some movement, as it turned out, her friend got out of bed and quietly approached her.

- Move, I'll lie down next to you. - Young-Hee couldn't answer anything, so she silently fulfilled the girl's request and was very embarrassed by what was happening.

As soon as Hyun-Joo lay down and covered herself with a blanket, she carefully hugged the girl's waist and put she head on chest.

- Now, I hope you'll sleep well. - she whispered.

- Yes..thank you, but why did you do it?

- Why? So that my Young-Hee could sleep peacefully and gain strength before tomorrow. Don't worry, from now on I will be the guardian of your dreams and I will not sleep until I am convinced that you have gone to the kingdom of morphine. And now good night to you. - After that, the girl gently kissed Young-Hee on the forehead.

- Good night to you too. - she answered softly. Her cheeks were decorated with a strong blush with embarrassment.

Thank God it was dark and Hyun-Joo didn't notice how her friend blushed. Although, maybe she felt everything and realized right away?

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