#he loves him dearly don’t let him fool you

[cod-dump]

Ghost to Soap: Do I touch myself when I think of you? Yea, touching my temples ‘cause you’re a headache

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

nanami kento and his certified yapper of a girlfriend, whom he loves very dearly <33

nanami has perfected the art of the “hm.” it’s his go-to response when you’re on one of your enthusiastic tangents. but don’t be fooled—there are different versions of his “hm.” there’s the supportive hm (when he agrees with you), the tired but still listening hm (when he’s too drained to fully engage but doesn’t want to ignore you), and the you’re absolutely ridiculous but I love you hm (his most common one).

he may seem like he zones out, but he retains the important things. you could talk for ten minutes straight about which nail color you should get, and he won’t remember a word. but if you offhandedly mention that you really love those matcha cookies from that one bakery, guess what’s waiting for you the next day?

he’s the only person who can actually get you to shut up—for a moment. whether it’s pulling you into a sudden kiss, placing a warm hand over your mouth, or just giving you that look, he has his ways. you’ll still continue after the interruption, though. always.

sometimes he just lets you talk because he enjoys how animated you get. you’re waving your hands, switching between different tones, going off on dramatic tangents��he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute. sometimes he just sits back and watches you, letting the sound of your voice fill the space around him. and you’re so absorbed in your own storytelling that you completely miss his lovesick gaze and his warm smile.

he has definitely fallen asleep to the sound of your voice. you don’t even take offense anymore. it happens often enough that you’ve just accepted your voice as a lullaby for him. sometimes, he’ll wake up to you continuing your story, completely unbothered by the fact that he passed out halfway through.

when he’s in a bad mood, you’re the only person who can make him laugh. sometimes, all it takes is a well-timed, ridiculous comment. other times, it’s just your sheer determination to get a reaction out of him. if he tries to stay grumpy, you’ll narrate his emotions out loud, complete with a fake dramatic voice: “behold! the great and brooding nanami kento, burdened by the weight of existence. will he ever smile again? will he ever—oh wait! there it is! a smirk! ladies and gentlemen, we got him.”

he gets oddly worried when you’re quiet. if you go more than twenty minutes without saying something, he immediately assumes something’s wrong. “are you okay?” “yes, why?” “you’re quiet.” “…so?” “so, it’s suspicious.” if you get quiet for too long, he’ll gently nudge you. not because he doesn’t enjoy silence, but because he knows something might be wrong. “what’s on your mind?” he’ll ask, and when you start rambling again, he knows things are back to normal.

he absolutely refuses to take you grocery shopping anymore. the last time he did, you spent fifteen minutes analyzing which brand of rice was superior, picked up random items purely because they “had cute packaging,” and got distracted by the tiny honey jars again. now, he just goes alone and comes back with everything he knows you like. (or he relents to your endless begging and tells you to not give promises you won’t be able to keep— like you sticking to his side and not prolonging the trip.)

he loves your voice, even if he pretends it exhausts him. he may act like you talk too much (which, to be fair, you do), but if you ever go away for a few days, or if he has a long, quiet work trip, he finds himself missing the constant sound of your chatter. the first thing he does when he comes back? sit down and listen to you ramble about everything he missed.

he’ll never admit it, but he secretly finds your endless talking comforting. it makes the world feel less heavy. it reminds him that, no matter how chaotic things get, you’ll always be right there, filling the silence with something only you would say.

he’s developed a high tolerance for your rapid-fire conversation shifts. most people would struggle to keep up, but nanami has learned to expect the unexpected. you could be talking about your dinner plans one second and then suddenly ask, “do you think sharks are self-aware?” without missing a beat. he doesn’t even flinch anymore—just calmly responds, “if they were, they’d probably be very concerned about their reputation.”

he has a hidden soft spot for your random facts. sure, he’ll sigh when you start a sentence with, “did you know—” but deep down, he’s actually listening. later, he’ll casually use one of your weird facts in conversation, and when you catch him, he’ll just adjust his tie like it never happened.

he’s learned to predict the exact moment you’ll start talking during movies. without fail, right when an important scene starts, you will have a thought. every time. and somehow, nanami just knows when it’s coming. he’ll pause the movie right before you open your mouth, giving you an expectant look. “go ahead.” and you’ll happily share your insight before he presses play again.

nanami secretly finds your over-explaining adorable. sometimes, you’ll start explaining something completely unnecessary—like why a certain restaurant’s menu design is superior to another’s—and he’ll just watch you, arms crossed, pretending to be unimpressed. but inside? he thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

he loves when you talk about your day, even if it’s just the small stuff. you could spend twenty minutes telling him about how the barista at the café made your drink slightly different than usual, and he’ll still sit there, listening, occasionally nodding and asking questions. because no matter what you’re talking about, it’s you, and that’s enough.

he will not—under any circumstances—let gojo encourage you. if gojo hypes you up for talking even more, nanami is done. he’ll literally drag you away before you and gojo can start bouncing off each other with endless nonsense.

he may sigh, roll his eyes, and pretend to be exhausted by your constant talking, but if anyone else ever told you to “be quiet,” they’d get a very cold stare from nanami. no one—no one—gets to dull your spark except for him, and even he doesn’t really mean it.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Omg I love your benjicot Blackwood fics can you do a x betrothed reader soft fluff please

There wasn’t many things in life that had brought you happiness, not since you became of an age where it was deemed necessary by your father to start looking for suitable suitors, for you were quick to catch on that life wasn’t fair especially towards the good and honest people of the realm.

They often died too soon, leaving for the rest of the realm to be poisoned and left in ruin by the selfish agendas of the richer and more powerful great houses.

So when you were made aware of your fathers plans, not bothering to ask for your permission in the matter, your initial response was to scream at the old fool of the unfairness of it all but instead you chose to ran for the Weirwoods as though that was going to change anything.

That day whilst terrible as it was, was also the day that you met Benjicot Blackwood or Benji as you liked to call him nowadays.

‘What’s wrong.’ He had asked, kneeling in front of you with a worried look.

‘I’m to be engaged.’ You told the boy with the short dark hair and stormy kind eyes.

‘Do you know to whom?’ He said as he tried his best to figure out what he could do to help, he wasn’t use to this whole comfort thing, but he was more then willing to try and to get use to comforting others for similar circumstances in the future.

You shrug, keeping your eyes downcast so that he wouldn’t see your tear stained face. ‘It is undecided for now but I know in my bones that it’ll be to a gluttonous lord of some unknown house with shady origins.’

‘Why not get engaged to me then?’ Benjicot then said out of the blue.

‘What?’ You looked up at him, unsure you had heard him right the first time.

‘Get engaged to me and you’ll never have to worry about being some shifty lords bed warmer.’ Ben said in a nonchalant mannor, which was soon betrayed by the cherry red blossoming upon his cheeks. ‘We don’t have to be in love it’s just-‘ he was abruptly cut off when you flung yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you whispered a million thanks into his shoulder, all the while Benjicot was stiff and awkward as a board before he finally relaxed and rubbed your back.

‘It’s fine, no need to thank me.’ He utters as later that same afternoon the news of your betrothal to Lord Benjicot Blackwood had been finalised, bring about the end before it had even began, and needless to say for the first time you had felt a twinge of happiness for your future.

Now as you stood beneath the very same Weirwood tree you did that fateful day, you sat beneath it with a smile upon your face and peace within your heart. You didn’t think you’d fall in love with Benjicot during your betrothal but you did and you did hard, the man was nothing short of perfect in every way shape and form, you didn’t expect yourself to fall in love with his dark hair, his stormy but kind eyes nor his chapped but kissable lips that withheld the most heavenly laughter you’ve ever heard.

He has made your heart full of happiness and joy that you didn’t know existed in Westeros, he treated you with such kindness, respect and loyalty that you couldn’t help but wonder if you were one of the lucky few to have such a devoted man such as Benjicot. You never wanted to know a reality where you weren’t betrothed to him for every man would fail in comparison, regardless of whether they came from a greater house, for all you ever wanted was a man who was undyingly faithful and wouldn’t dare let his eyes wander and you found that man in Benjicot Blackwood; and ever since then you have been falling for him every single second of every single day.

You had found your soulmate that day without even knowing it as you chuckled to yourself just as a body sat closely beside you, but instead of moving away from it you leaned into it, already familiar with the bodily warmth of your dearly beloved Benji as he pressed a sweet to to the top of your head.

‘You’re smiling today my beloved, is there reason to that or is it just me.’ He joked as you playfully scoffed.

‘I’m merely reminiscing the time we first met, right here beneath the Weirwood tree.’ You told him as you craned your head to look up at the leaves that hung above you both.

‘Still glad you’re not married off to some gluttonous lord from an unknown house with shady origins?’ Benjicot asked as he too looked up at the ruby leaves of the Weirwood, not wanting to admit that after all this time you still managed to make him nervous but in the best ways possible. Your smile widened at your own words being thrown back at you as you looked over at Benjicot and admired his side profile with adoring eyes.

‘I am because my betrothed is the sweetest man the realm has ever seen.’ You told him as you kissed his cheek softly before resting your head on his shoulder. ‘You saved me that day Benji and I am forever grateful.’

‘What did I tell you way back then? It’s nothing that you should thank me for.’ Benjicot said as he looked at you with a soft expression. ‘I’m just glad that I could offer you an alternative solution.’

You looked at him as found yourself smiling as he rested his forehead against your own, closing his eyes as he relaxed again you. ‘You also once told me that we didn’t have to fall in love during our betrothal too.’ You replied as you heard him chuckle lowly, brushing his nose over yours. ‘We did a pretty shit job of that didn’t we?’ Benjicot asked as you giggled and the young lord swore he could hear the heavens sing, for he had fallen first but saw later on that you had fallen just as hard for him in return, which he thought was solely because he had gotten you out of a predicament you didn’t want to be in.

You would later prove to him that that wasn’t the case at all and that you feelings for him were genuine and true as your heart that beats solely for him.

‘One could assume so, yes.’ You replied, kissing him on the forehead before letting your heads rest against one another once more. ‘But I don’t regret a single thing, word or moment that we have shared since for I love you far too much to depart from your side.’ You added as you moved yourself as close to him as you could, wanting nothing more then to be in his arms and listen to the sounds of his strong heart against your ear.

Benjicot didn’t put up a fight as he was quick to bring you into his strong embrace, holding you against his chest as he back remained supported by the trunk of the Weirwood tree, your head pressed to his heart as it sang its song just for you. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you cry under this very Weirwood.’ Benjicot admitted. ‘I looked at you and thought how beautiful you looked even when you were crying, which hurt my heart to witness. I want you happy and in that moment I wanted to be the reason you were happy and since then I have only fallen further each and every day, aching to one day call you what I’ve always wanted to call you.’

‘And what’s that.’ You murmured against his chest, his warmth providing you too much comfort that you were on the periapsis of falling asleep.

‘Lady Blackwood.’ Benjicot said as he pressed a kiss to your head, finding the same level of comfort you had as he too was fighting his hardest to keep his eyes open to gaze upon you longer, but alas his eyes were already closed and he smile widened as he thanked the gods for weaving your strand of fate with his own that fateful day under the Weirwood tree.

[brie-is-cheesy]

I love you... Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.

Pairing: Sylus × Reader

Word count: 1679 or 1.6k words

Warnings: slight angst to smut and a little fluff, fingering, oral sex(fem receiving), dry humping(sort of), Sylus is shot, reader is not mc

Your head snapped to your phone as it started vibrating violently.

“Hello?” Pressing ‘accept,’ you brought the device to your ear.

“Y/N…” A familiar drawl on the other side caused you to sigh.

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“C’mon, N/n. I promise this is the last time,” he said, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“That’s what you said the last three times. And I’m busy,” you stated but grabbed your keys anyway.

“I need you.” His breath was ragged, and you clenched your fists—and hung up.

Before you knew it, you were locking your door and making your way to the basement of your apartment building. Climbing atop your green-accented motorcycle, you twisted the key, put on your helmet, and were on your way.

You kicked down the door to the warehouse, eyes searching as you stormed through. The location tracker showed you were only a few meters from the target.

His white hair came into view, and you released a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Kneeling down at his side, you started patting different parts of his body.

“Ah,” he winced lightly as your hand brushed against his abdomen.

You pressed your left palm flat against the bullet wound as your other hand dug around in your purse, desperately searching for the first-aid kit you carried with you.

This was a common occurrence between the two of you—something that was pretty much a given for the best friend and confidant of the leader of Onychinus. It had grown exponentially recently. Ever since he met her.

Cute, kind, and brave. The holy trinity. MC. But you could only describe her as a naïve, immature fool who had only ever caused you more trouble since entering your best friend’s life—and, by extension, yours.

MC was the last person you would think to be involved with the most dangerous gang in the N109 area. The two of you were vastly different. Seriously, it was uncanny. You, with your bare, bloody knuckles, short temper, and even shorter dresses. And her, with her hunter academy training, top-of-the-line education, and proper uniform.

Whatever the case, you’d end up fixing her up as always. Because that was what you did, wasn’t it? You were strong, capable, and reliable. These were the reasons Sylus held you in such high regard.

You and MC were undoubtedly complete and total opposites. The only thing you had in common was, well, Sylus. As you bandaged him up, you started looking around for her, expecting to find her sprawled out on the floor clinging to her weapon dearly—or already passed out.

Unlike her, you didn’t effortlessly win hearts simply by existing. Your beauty was a weapon in itself—sharp features and blood-red lips to go with his leather jackets and most likely bruised self.

“Hello? You there? Y/N. Ow.” His sudden hiss of pain brought you back to reality.

“Hurry up and move.” You stood up, extending a hand and pulling him up with little to no effort. You started walking in the other direction. Sylus’ warm hand enveloped your wrist, and you turned around—only to come face to face with him, noses mere inches apart.

“At least look at me.” His tone was cool, but his pleading eyes betrayed his true feelings.

“Where is she?” you said, your lips pursed as they often were in matters regarding the hunter.

“Where’s who?” he asked, his hand sliding down just a bit to hold your equally calloused one.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“…She had to go back home,” he said, sounding defeated.

“In the middle of a fight?” You scoffed.

“Yeah.” He gritted his teeth.

“So let me get this straight. You ignored all my warnings and proceeded to go after someone who then left you alone to fight at the very least three S-rank wanderers all on your own.” You raised your eyebrows, traces of wrath bubbling beneath your calm demeanor.

“Y/N, I know I fucked up. I should have listened to you. Can you skip the lecture, just this once?” he implored.

“Fine,” you relented.

You searched his face for any signs of distress, and upon finding no significant amount of it, decided he must’ve been feeling better. You brought a hand up to trace the outline of the freshly acquired wound on his cheekbone.

“I’m okay,” he assured you.

“I know.” You brought your hand back to rest at your side once more.

“You aren’t mad?” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

You shook your head, the sound of something rustling nearby enough for the two of you to rush out of the warehouse. Once you made it back to his house, you made your way to the bedroom.

He took a shower, and you resorted to finding the clothes you’d left behind the last time you were here, which was just last week. Right before Miss Hunter had barreled her way into your lives once more, leaving destruction in her wake—which you would end up having to fix.

You lay on the bed with your eyes closed, trying to fall asleep, and felt something warm slip in behind you. His arms snaked around your waist, and he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“Go away,” you grumbled.

“Can’t do that, darling.” He nuzzled into your bare shoulder.

“Really? Because, if I recall correctly, you had no qualms doing exactly that when she was the one asking.” You shifted and turned around to face him.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed the tip of your nose.

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time.” You bit the inside of your cheek, resolve slowly cracking as his hands traveled to your breasts, kneading them just how he knew you liked it.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he said, lingering water droplets falling from the ends of his hair onto the dark sheets.

“You won’t talk to her,” you stated.

“I won’t,” he mumbled against your skin. “I love you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I love you, Y/N. More than anything.” His eyes bore into your soul as if seeing right through you. You gulped.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

That was all the confirmation he needed to smash his lips into yours, as he’d done several times before. But for some reason, this time felt different. And so you kissed him back—just as passionately.

His hands made their way to your hips, one slipping beneath the waistband of your pajamas. You called out his name lightly as the pads of his fingers made contact with your sensitive clit. You hummed.

He slid your bottoms off, repositioning himself at the base of the bed and pulling your closer by your thighs. You moaned as he licked a stripe up your cunt. 

He had always made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered to him. Perhaps that was why even as he slipped two fingers in without so much as a warning, your couldn’t find it in yourself to berate him any further. 

He sucked on your clit in a way that—paired with the pace he had set with his fingers—had you seeing stars. You were getting impossibly close, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach. 

You came with a cry of his name—letting out a small moan at the sight of him licking his fingers clean. He came up to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. God, the things he did to you.

While making out once again, you felt something hard poking you, which prompted you to roll your hips against his. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he groaned.

“Pretty sure I do the exact opposite of that most days. Need I remind you there is still a gaping hole in you?” you chided.

“I have to apologise somehow.” he said, as if he had no choice.

If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would’ve have been convinced his hands were tied. The only one who could free him of the burden that was your eternal debt being you yourself. 

You flipped the two of you—now being on top of him—and gyrated your hips with an ample amount of pressure. You were careful so as not to hurt him, or risk the bandages getting loose. 

“Come on, you can do better than that.” he grinned, though a particularly hard thrust from you shut him up effectively. 

You increased the pace, his clothed dick rubbed deliciously against your puffy clit. You moaned as he grabbed your hips and further ground your hips into his.

“Sylus!” your head fell on his shoulder, breath coming out in ragged puffs.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” he bucked his hips up, successfully leading you and himself to orgasm. 

Your soaked pussy clenched around nothing and you gushed all over his branded sweatpants. He followed a second later—painting the insides of his pants white.

You both panted but stayed like that for a while—your head in the crook of his neck, and his right hand tangled in your hair. Eventually, you went to get a wet washcloth, helping him clean up.

You laid back down as he put on a fresh pair of pants and tossed his stained ones in the hamper. He followed after you, pulling you into a hug.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Mhm.” You flicked his nose.

“Say it back!” He gasped dramatically.

“Fine, you big baby.” You cracked a smile. “I love you.”

The blanket draped over you both offered much-appreciated warmth, but even that couldn’t compare to the sheer amount of body heat Sylus was radiating.

Even if sometimes he acted like a complete idiot, he was your idiot. And nothing would ever change that.

With that thought, you drifted off in his arms, lips lightly stretched in a contented smile.

A/n: Had the idea yesterday. Pulled an all-nighter and wrote this in one go,, I need to go to sleep now.

You can find more of my works here 🩷🩷

[amirasainz]

I admit I read everything with baby Sainz in it.🫢 And as I'm on a Lando bender again. (Loving all things Lando) I was wondering if you could write something with Baby Sainz and Lando about how they got into a fight and the whole grid is there for her and being mean to Lando but like the fight was something really little and silly. (Something like Lando not putting his clothes away)

I hope that makes sense.

Oooppp!!!! That make me so happy to know that people enjoy reading my writing. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as well and let me know if you have any requests. I will do my best to write them ASAP

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Trouble in paradise

There were two things Lando hated dearly: fish and seeing his girlfriend cry. The first one is pretty self-explanatory. For him, fish tasted horrible and looked disgusting. It had a weird consistency and smelled—oh god, don’t get him started on the smell. The second thing, seeing his girlfriend cry, was because a beautiful girl like her should never have to feel any sadness. Her pretty eyes should never fill with tears, making the window to her soul more obvious than ever. Her perfect lips should never tremble, and her voice should never crack. Amira was made for being happy and carefree.

However, this morning, Lando managed to do the worst thing ever. He made his girl cry. And why? Because he is the biggest idiot on earth. The only thing she asked him yesterday was if he could start doing the laundry. Like the lovesick fool he is, he was more enamored with her presence than actually listening to her words. When she wanted to wear her favorite shirt today, which was in the laundry, Lando had to admit that he didn’t do anything. Maybe it was the current heat, her jet lag, her hunger, or the frustration that he didn’t do the simple task she asked him to do, but all of it was too much. And Amira tried to be brave, she really did. But she couldn’t help but let her frustration and sadness out through her tears. When Lando saw his girlfriend crying in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to cry himself. What kind of monster is he, making his perfect girlfriend cry because he was a lazy idiot?

The others around them immediately realized something was wrong when the couple arrived this morning in the paddock. Usually, Lando would have his arm around her shoulders, their hands intertwined, kissing her shamelessly in front of everyone and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. But today, they arrived with only their pinkies intertwined. Despite having a huge fight about something so silly this morning, the couple couldn’t stand not touching one another. If their unusual entrance wasn’t a huge sign that something was wrong, it was Amira’s behavior. Instead of wearing bright, vibrant colors, the young woman wore a black jacket with sunglasses on. Her blue shirt was the only speck of color in her outfit. If even THAT wasn’t a sign that something was amiss between them, it was on their way to the motorhomes. Instead of leading Amira proudly into his side of the garage, he brought her to the Ferrari garage. There, one could see Lando hugging Amira, whose shoulders shook. Without another word, Amira left a heartbroken Lando inside. One might have thought that something terrible had happened to his family, instead of him forgetting to do the laundry…

The news spread like wildfire that Amira and Lando had a fight because Lando couldn’t be trusted to do a simple task. The drivers and WAGs were furious when they heard about what happened. Carlos even went as far as keeping his sister inside his driver’s room, making her sleep and eat something. While Carlos was busy taking care of his precious sister, Lando had the worst day of his life. EVER.

It all started when he ran into Carmen and George. The couple were busy staring daggers at him while he was on his way to the media pen. Lando was so distracted by their glares that he didn’t see Lewis. He bumped straight into the 8-time world champion, who wasn’t very keen on seeing the young Brit. “Oh, sorry Lewis. I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Lando apologized. Lewis looked him up and down before muttering, “Seems like you never mean to do something.” Before Lando had a chance to ask what he meant, Lewis turned around and walked away.

A confused Lando continued walking to the media pen. During the conference, he was asked about his outfit ( new Quadrant merch) when Max muttered loud enough for the microphones to pick up: “Must be nice to have clothes you can wear because you can rely on your partner.” The atmosphere in the room became strained in a matter of seconds. The reporter awkwardly tried to move on. Lando wasn’t stupid; he knew what this was. This was his punishment for upsetting the paddock princess.

After a 40-minute-long speech from Lily and Kika about how important giving and taking in a healthy relationship was, Fernando calling him “El mayor idiota que ha existido en la tierra,” Charles letting Leo bite him, Lily and Oscar giving him the biggest side-eye ever throughout the day, Yuki “accidentally” pushing him into a wall, and Pierre starting gossip about him, he finally went to Carlos’s driver’s room.

He gently knocked on the door, wishing it would be his girl opening it. Sadly, today was truly not his day, because he was met with the sight of an angry Carlos. Before Lando had the chance to say anything, Carlos brought him closer. He whispered quietly in Lando’s ear: “If Amira wasn’t so damn much in love with you, you would already be under the earth. I know where you live, I know your password, I know your deepest secrets. If you ever, and I mean ever, in your entire life make my sister cry again, it will be the last thing you’ll ever do. ¿He sido claro?” Carlos only let poor Lando go after he swore to never do something stupid like that again. “Good, now you will go inside, apologize to Amira, and buy her a new freaking Birkin bag. Did I make myself clear?” Carlos sternly asked.

Safe to say that Lando did a lot of groveling that day. It took the drivers and WAGs 5 months, 1 week, 28 days, and 17 hours to stop with the “Lando-fuck-up” jokes. And Amira? She never had to wonder about a thing again; they now had a housemaid, Aurelia, who only adored Amira and not Lando.

[darlingkikki]

wait need a 141 scare actors x reader blurb

Synopsis: A horror night worker sees you and gives his men a task; make sure you leave smiling. Pairing: TF141!Scare Actors x GN!Reader (first meeting vibes so nothing too crazy but Kyle’s too great for me to keep it lowkey lmao) Word Count: 3.6k (I think) Warnings: negative self-talk, reader is very lonely (reasons up to you) a/n: Let me know if I missed any warnings or did not keep it gender-neutral and I will fix it <3. You gave me the green light and you will pay dearly for how badly I wish I were a better writer. Happy Halloween!

A man with an interesting mustache and beard combo greets you at the gates.

“Admission for one?” He asks, glancing over your shoulder to check that your friends or partner aren’t lagging. 

The question pokes at the part inside of you that recoils into your shell when others notice how alone you are, the forever raw wound that no positive affirmations or small bouts with talk therapists have been able to scab over. It’s constantly bleeding, oozing thoughts in voices you both recognize and don’t. They cover a wide variety, though they lead back to you, a homing missile locked onto your actual self and not the warped beyond-recognition version they are about. The version no one who knows you sees. You’ve been told you’re actually not that bad; you’re still stuck on why they used the word actually in something meant to be complimentary. 

One therapist (the one you felt could help, but they decided a job in another state was more important than your problems), said that the best way to combat these thoughts is to fight them, think louder and harder in the opposite direction, even if you think you’re lying to yourself. So, that’s what you did. You psyched yourself up in the mirror for the better part of an hour as you pulled on your costume and repeated to yourself that this was normal. 

Why should an infamous horror night be such a big deal? People go out alone all the time.

“Yep,” you say with a forced smile. It’s enough, but it doesn’t feel like enough. So, you over-explain because your mouth never knows when to quit. “I love going to these alone, really puts me in the Halloween mood.” 

The man tilts his head to one side, observing that slight pinch of your expression. Your voice is light and measured. And that smile. You’re performing. Everything about this is fake, everything about you is fake, a mask worn when the switch in your brain flips to ‘social interaction mode’, so strangers think of you in a certain way. You want him to know you’re not the least bit insecure about being alone. Not at all. The distant sounds of screaming and laughter inside the park don’t carve into you like an ice pick.

You’re not fooling him—no one can, as far as he’s concerned. He’s posted at the entrance for a reason, not because he’s grown too old to run around and scare people with grotesque makeup or prop weapons. He’s an assessor through and through. One brief conversation and he knows whether someone will be a good sport or one of those rude assholes that think it’s cool to scream back at the actors or posturing snobs who shit all over their efforts. You may be lying to him and yourself, but you won’t be a problem. 

Something about you reminds him of someone. He draws the comparison only after you school your smile to a blank expression. You have smile lines around your mouth, evidence that the muscles aren’t under-used, he just wonders how many are genuine. 

You’re still staring at him as he extends his hand towards you, palm up. 

“Give it here,” he orders and gestures towards your own, which has been clutching the fabric of your costume as if you think it’s trying to escape.

You stretch out your fingers, persuading them to relax and hold out your clammy hand so he can press a stamp down on the back of it. The design glows a bright lavender when light catches it at a certain angle, indecipherable enough that you can’t figure out exactly what it says or depicts. You’re about to pull away when he stamps you again. You don’t ask why, assuming it’s because the first was too light or smudged. With a gentle parting squeeze, your hand is your own again. You start towards the exit as he’s stuffing the stamp back into his pocket. 

He speaks again just as you’re about to be past his shoulder. His voice is soft but gritty like a smoker's. “You have yourself a hell of a night, alright?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You curse yourself for your unnecessary use of the title as you make it past the entrance to the park. You don’t know why you called him that, but it makes more sense than it should. He has a natural ability to garner respect, you felt it even in that brief interaction. He chuckles, rough and deep, as he pulls his phone out to make do with his mission.

You take a break from screaming and scurrying away from zombies and slashers to do something fun.

And what’s more fun than blowing too much money on playing carnival games until you win one of the large plushies? It seems easy enough after the woman running the stand explains the game to you—until you’ve sunk twenty bucks into it and only manage one ring on a bottle. The others have bounced off and landed on the ground. 

The stares of the wide-eyed plushies feel less like they’re cheering you on and more like they’re mocking you. Are you seriously playing a child’s game alone? And losing? Why? So you can win a dumb stuffed animal? You’ll leave here the same way you came and you deserve it.

There’s no way one is even worth the amount that you've lost so far. You’re ready to throw in the towel when you sense something behind you. 

It shouldn’t be something that spells danger, not with the woman who has been pocketing your money standing just a few feet away, but your body seems to ignore that fact and react as though Michael Myers himself is lurking behind you. 

You whirl around and your bones turn to ice when you find yourself face-to-chest with a tall, imposing figure. You’re too aghast to scream, mind-body connection severed, you’re left gaping up at the man like a fish out of water. He can’t have been there long, but you’ve been so caught up in the game that he could’ve been standing behind you the entire time. 

The man does not react to your fear, just meets you with an uncomfortably realistic-looking skull mask and unblinking eyes. His posture is rigid, like one of the decorative scarecrows you saw near the entrance. His eyes rake over your body in a way that reminds you of an x-ray, lingering on something for a prolonged moment. Whatever he sees, it pushes him to speak to you. 

“This one’s fuckin’ awful.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners, dark pools glinting with humor, but you’re too busy trying to calm your racing heart to respond. He’s used to people being afraid of him beyond the context of working at events like this, so he steps around you and picks up the pile of rings on the table. You press a trembling hand to your chest and take deep, pacifying breaths.

In and out, you tell yourself, over and over, until your heartbeat no longer resembles the sound of galloping horses. In the time it takes you to collect your bearings, he's thrown each ring over the tops of three bottles effortlessly. Anxiety dissolves into confusion, even more when he turns to you and then jerks his head towards the higher shelves, ignoring the slightly annoyed woman behind the counter. She was probably hoping you’d spend another couple of dollars.

“Oh.” Confusion melts into realization. Your lips curl upwards, but something still doesn’t feel right. He’d broken character to help you for seemingly no reason. “Thank you, but you didn’t need to-” 

“Already did. Pick the one you want.”

His insistence is sharp but harmless equally. The prize is yours, so no use in trying to out-polite the man. 

When you look back at the shelves, it’s with a radiant smile. Even though you hadn’t exactly won one yourself, the kindness of the skull-faced stranger was enough to silence your worries. The perfect one picks you before you pick it. There’s a lone skeleton with cutesy eyes and a squishy body surrounded by a sea of adorable plush pumpkins and black cats. You point to it and the woman behind the counter hands it over with a half-hearted “congrats”. The stranger in the mask smiles at your choice, though you’re not looking at him. When you’re done giving testing squeezes to the plushie, you turn to the man to thank him again, but he’s nowhere to be found, gone just as quietly as he’d appeared.

Sometime later, plushie in your arms, you find the line for a walk through the cornfield. It winds around plastic dividers like a snake, but what else can you expect from the major attraction when the night is in full swing? You join the line, picking at the white tag sewn into the leg of your plushie. There’s a couple in front of you dressed in matching costumes; they decide the wait is the perfect time to get reacquainted with one another. A worker ropes off the divider so no one else can enter and the distracted group of friends in front of the couple doesn’t notice or care about them, so no one else accompanies you in the awkwardness of listening to smacking lips and affectionate hums. Bitterness swells in your throat like you’ve swallowed a pill without water. Stroking the soft underbelly of your prize helps—somewhat. You think about the sweet, albeit intense, scare actor until the giggling couple with now identically smudged makeup walks hand-in-hand through the entrance.

There is little to no light inside of the field. The brightest thing is the moonlight, which makes walking down the dirt path between corn stalks an even more eerie experience. It’s almost peaceful, ignoring the creepy props lining the paths and the random actors hidden in the stalks itching to grab at your ankles or jump out at you (three have accosted you so far). And soon to be a fourth as corn rustles in front of you, leaf blades bouncing off each other harsher than when skimmed by the wind. 

Another couple of steps and a man in a bloody burlap sack-like mask pops out with outstretched arms and a loud “boo” to top it all off—you yelp, nearly dropping your plushie on the ground.

The man responds with a laugh, infectious and warm, before tugging off his mask. Odd, you think, because none of the other actors had prolonged the interaction after leaving you short of breath. Well, none but one.

“I’m Kyle,” he introduces himself, flashing a disarming smile. It’s dazzling, you almost miss him holding out a hand. “Sorry for…you know, just doin’ my job and all.”

Without the disturbing mask, he’s quite pretty, the kind that makes you immediately comply and give him both your right hand and name. Your stamps glow under the moonlight, and he sighs in relief, shoulders relaxing. He thought you’d have left by now.

“Nice meeting you,” he says, bowing at the waist. 

He’s prince-levels of charming, much too relaxed for the environment. His costume is more normal than scary without the mask, just a deep red tunic and dark-wash jeans. You can make out small bits of hay stuck to his hair and clothes. It makes for a dorky and cute visual. 

He does not slink back into the corn as the actors before him did. Instead, he straightens, making a face at the stuffed animal you’re holding.

“You win that for yourself?” 

“Tried to, but one of the actors ended up helping me, actually.”

He quirks a brow. “You pick it because it looks like him?”

You don’t know how he guessed so quickly, but you nod, sheepish that he’d caught you clutching it so protectively, like you were holding a dear gift from a loved one. 

It’s just a stupid toy a stranger won for you. Won for you. You hold it tighter.

Kyle shakes his head, muttering “smart bastard” under his breath and then his eyes are on you. He has that deep shade of brown that’s impossible to say no to.

“The way to the exit can be a bit borin’,” he explains, his lips pursed in thought. “You alright with some company?”

And now you’re even more confused. Was he even allowed to? And why would he care if you’re bored?

“Will you get in trouble?” You ask, glancing towards the quiet path, trying to gauge how long you’d be pulling him away from his job. From what he’s saying, you can assume the exit is near, but you can’t see it from here.

“Nah, you were the last one coming through, so I’m free to roam,” he shrugs, stepping out of your way so you can walk side-by-side.

You soon discover Kyle is even more of a gem than you’d initially realized. He's more than just a beautiful person to look at, he’s funny, and more friendly with you than strangers ought to be. He asks about you. You don’t know what to say at points, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When your voice wavers or your tongue fumbles, he’s patient. He’s genuinely interested, actually listening, and those pools of brown are as distracting as you thought because soon you’re walking underneath the cobweb-decorated archway signaling the end of the walk.

Your heart clenches. You’re not ready for your night to be over. You’re not prepared for your time with Kyle to be over, to face that tonight has been one of the few times you’ve been the target of considerate treatment and could very well be the only time.

You miss the reflected disappointment in his features because a harsh sound cuts through the air, similar to the rev of a car engine. Then it happens again, just as cacophonic followed by maniacal laughter, and a large man barrels through the corn so quickly you scream and nearly fall over into Kyle’s arms. 

“Fuckin’ hell ‘Tavish, you nearly killed my new friend here,” Kyle laughs, patting you on the back. Reassurance. You’re in no danger. 

The chainsaw wielder lets the act go rather quickly, lowering it to the ground and regarding you with a mischievous grin. 

“Just doin’ my job,”—the man waves off the accusation—“Not my fault Price chose a screamer.”

You squint at the man who’d nearly given you a heart attack. Price chose you? Who’s Price? Kyle claps the man on the back of the head. They interact as old friends, brothers. 

“Sorry,” Kyle turns to you, apologetic. “Should’ve warned you about the main event. Got a bit distracted.”

In fairness, you were too. You don’t mention that it was because of his eyes..

“Apology accepted,” you say, “Though your friend is on thin ice.”

“Me?” The man in question scoffs like you’ve accused him of a grave sin. His lips press together to keep his laughter at bay, though he’s got about as much tact as the hair on his head, which is shaved on both sides, leaving a strip of hair down the middle. He’s cocky, you can sense that. Cocky people are to you what salt is to a snail, though Kyle doesn’t seem the type to surround himself with the bad kind, so you try not to curl in on yourself.

“Not jus’ his friend,” he says, sending you a wink, “I’m John, Johnny if yer feelin’ brave.”

Kyle rolls his eyes and nudges you with his shoulder to get you walking towards the park exit, a straight shot from the cornfield. “Come on, we don’t need to take this.” 

“You scared me too,” you remind him as Johnny takes up the space on your left side, “Don’t think I forgot about that.”

He snorts, “Touche.”

“A screamer an’ not afraid to knock you down a peg,” Johnny notes, “I like ‘em already.” He hasn’t stopped staring at the side of your face. You wipe your hand across your cheek in case something is on it. 

The walk through the park is quiet, save for Johnny and Kyle throwing friendly jabs at one another. Most people have already left; the last few actors send looks in your direction and carnival game runners are shutting off their lights and closing down for the night.

“You have fun tonight?” Johnny asks you once the parking lot comes into view. Only a handful of clusters of cars remained in contrast to when you’d arrived.

The most fun you’ve had in a while. You’ve grown used to that heavy chunk of loneliness sitting in your chest like a rock. You drag it around behind you, a life sentence. Let it tether to your emotions and bog them down, anchoring your feet in some instances and letting the ground swallow you whole in others. You’re going home with a small part carved out. A crevice where something less bitter and more sweet can wedge itself in and find a home, spreading far and wide if you’re lucky.

The two exchange toothy grins when you respond positively, a cheerful smile cracking your face open for them to see. The look withholds a meaning that you aren’t privy to. Price was right, as always. A special someone deserved more smiles tonight, and they’d accomplished their mission.

“Found you any earlier an’ I would’ve won you one of those too,”—Johnny gestures to your plushie—“Ah’ve got an arm on me, a mean one when it comes to the bottle toss.”

Kyle and you roll your eyes. You assume the people in his life have grown quite comfortable doing so. Your initial descriptor of cocky was accurate, but he’s endearingly cocky in a way that doesn’t put you off too much. 

“Watch it, the big guy will take your head off,” Kyle warns.

“He’s not even here. I can say wha’ I want.”

“He’s right behind you.”

“Nah, he’s—” Johnny spins around and gasps, similar to how you’d reacted earlier, though he is a bit more dramatic. “Steamin’ Jesus, where’d you come from?”

You turn as well, hoping it’s who you’re thinking, and it is. The man who’d won you the plushie you’re holding.

He looks at you in the same way as before, though his imposing figure seems more relaxed than it had been. You presume these men are all friends. They seem comfortable enough around each other to be.

“Price wants to see us,” he says, his deep voice rolling from his chest the way water does over the smoothed rock on the bank of a river. You can hear it much clearer now that your heartbeat isn’t thrumming in your ears. 

“Can it wait?” Kyle glances towards you. “Wanted to make sure they made it out alright.”

Another chip at that loneliness, but you don’t want to jeopardize anything with him and Price—who you assume is his boss—even if you’d prefer he continues lessening the weight holding you down beneath your rib cage.

“You’ve done enough, Kyle,” you say, pointing behind you with your free hand, “I can see my car from here, anyway. I’ll be fine.”

“We cannae let ‘em go without makin’ sure, Simon,” Johnny insists, echoing Kyle’s sentiment and steamrolling over your assurance. 

Simon, finally a name for the face, or at least the parts of it you can see. Kyle and Johnny had shed their costumes, yet he wears his like a second skin. His stiff demeanor from earlier seems more of a costume than anything he’s wearing. 

Simon glances over your shoulder to where you’d pointed, dark eyes impossible to read. Johnny turns up the dial on his charm. At least that’s what you think he’s doing when he gives Simon a wide-eyed, puppy-like expression, pressing his palms together in front of his face and tipping his head forward. The picture would be complete if he sunk onto his knees with a bible in his hands.

He has the energy of the youngest son in the family. The visual brings a laugh tumbling from your lips and Simon relents, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Go on then, we’ll watch from here.”

So you do, waving at the group, who murmur their goodbyes, and then walking to your car. 

You walk slower than you need to, relishing in the experience of people wanting to ensure you made it anywhere safe. It’s a luxury. You strive for it like people dream about vacationing or owning a house. Unfortunately, time stands still for no one.

Chancing a look at the group of men as you climb into the driver’s seat, you find six pairs of eyes. Kyle smiles broadly, you get another wink and smirk from Johnny, and Simon blinks at you from behind his mask. You barely know them and yet their reactions are all so distinctly them. You beam, holding up the plush skeleton and waving one last time like an Olympic athlete holding up their medals before resting it on the passenger's seat.

Alone again, you push your key into the ignition and your car comes to life. The dashboard bathes everything in a golden glow. Come morning, when you’re bathed in a similar hue by the rising sun, you’ll think about this night. You’ll think about them, each of them, and you’ll wonder. Hugging your prize from the night, you will implant the memory into the grooves of your brain, where it can sit safe and snug, just as looked after as you’d been. You’ll wonder if any of them will end up in your life again, and hope the answer to that question is ‘yes’.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Ngl, the last post about Fords grief and readers' resurrection involving bill. Had me thinking, and I know it's been a few minutes to an hour, but like, what if Ford built the reader back together like with bills help. Frankenstein ykkk

Anyway, kisses to the writer💋💋💋💋

wait... i like this one !!

tw: gore, body horror, unsettling imagery

Ford is a man of science before anything else. when he can’t fix something emotionally, he turns to intellect, to mechanics, to the physical work of repairing what’s broken. and when it comes to you, someone he loved deeply, someone he lost so suddenly, he cannot accept that you are gone, Ford refuses to. that’s not how he works. problems have solutions. everything is fixable.

it always starts with a very bad deal. a deal Ford once swore he’d never make again, but grief makes fools of us all.

“oh, sixer, my old pal, u know i love a good science experiment! you and me, back in the lab, building a whole new body for your dearly departed? talk about a fun little project!”

Ford hates him, he grits his teeth and tries to keep his face calm, he hates him with every cell in his body. but he hates this emptiness more. so he doesn’t protest and doesn't argue. just tightens his jaw and listens.

because there’s a way, Bill says. there’s always a way. but a body doesn’t just come from nowhere. a body needs parts.

and Ford has never been squeamish.

a sticky, congealing blood between his long fingers, crusting beneath his dirty nails. Ford doesn’t mind, he barely notices. there is so much to do, so much work.

it starts with the bones.

you were gone too long for preservation. what was left was ruined, unfit, wrong. so Ford makes new ones. it takes weeks of scavenging, collecting and constructing. some are yours, some are not. some are carved by his own hands, whittled down into the exact shape they should be.

Ford does not let himself think about where the others came from. he doesn't want to ask Bill, because Bill talks too much and says very dumb, not funny jokes.

"y’know, i gotta hand it to ya, sixer, most people don’t literally build their dream partner! or, uh— rebuild! ahaha!"

Stanford works by lamplight, shaping the ribs with the precision of a mad sculptor, measuring the length of your femurs against the sketches he’s made in his notes. he has so many notes. . . pages and pages of you, blueprints of who you were. what makes a person? what makes a mind? how does one recreate the intangible?

“trying to make them better this time, huh? aw, don’t look so guilty, i think the new jawline is an improvement!”

muscles next, Ford knows. sinew and tendon and ligaments pulled taut, stretched over frame, sewn and stitched. his hands are always slick, stinking, reeking of blood and chemicals and whatever this is that he’s doing. but he keeps talking to you. he doesn’t even notice when he starts.

“rhis will hold. ive reinforced the fibers, should be stronger than before. . . don’t worry, dear, i’ll be careful, i won’t hurt you.” you are not there. but he speaks as though you are, because it’s easier that way. “i love you”

“c’mon, doc, ya barely even flinched that time! i’d say you’re gettin’ used to this, but,” Bill leans in. “we both know you’ve always had a knack for butchery.”

Ford does not respond.

the limbs are harder. muscle grafts, nerve splicing, making sure the hands will still be warm when they hold his own. Ford works tirelessly. he stops counting the hours.

he talks to you while he works. “you always hated the cold,” he says, securing the connective tissue in your fingers. “i’ll make sure your circulation is strong, my love.“

and the face. the face is the worst, because it has to be perfect. it has to be you, it has to be right. so when the first few attempts aren’t, when the eyes are wrong, when the skin sags, when the expression is empty, he rips it apart and starts again.

“oooh, this is beautiful,” Bill coos. “y’know, i never took you for the sentimental type, IQ! you’re really putting your heart into this one!”

Ford does not respond, his hands and gloves are covered in blood and trembling, but he does not stop. because this is what he wanted. you are here. in pieces, yes, but pieces can be put back together.

skin is the hardest part.

it took him so long to get the consistency right. synthetic materials failed. grafts failed. he had to learn. he had to practice. but the color is still wrong, waxy, veins mapping out too blue beneath the surface. Ford swears under his breath. fucking shit. he brushes his thumb over your knuckles, watches the way the flesh gives. too soft, too artificial.

Ford does not cry, not when the stitches split. not when the first attempt collapses in on itself. not when your new skin sloughs off in sickly, wet ribbons and he has to start over again

but at some point, careful becomes desperate. methodical becomes messy. you are not coming together right

Ford's hands shake, he is muttering again. something is missing, something is wrong. your skin won’t knit properly, your chest cavity won’t close, your spine— your spine won’t—

Bill floats beside him. “what’s the problem, doc? run outta parts?”

Ford’s breath is too fast, his fingers twitch, vision blurry, but whether it’s from exhaustion or the copper stink of the lab, he doesn’t know.

“i—“ he chokes on the words. “i just need more.”

“say the word, Fordsy.”

“please, Bill, please.” when Ford blinks, there is more on the table.

Bill watches and laughs. “y’know, i’ve seen a lotta desperate guys do a lotta desperate things, but this? wowza! this one takes the cake! and you didn’t even ask what the price was!”

Ford’s hands tremble as he reattaches your arm for the third time.

"you think they'll want this, sixer? think they'll wanna wake up like this?”

Ford doesn’t answer. he keeps working.

it is days before he is done, Ford doesnt know what day it is, what month, what year. time exists only in the number of stitches, the weight of the scalpel, the way your stitched, reconstructed body lies motionless on the table.

you look like you. almost. almost.

Bill is staring at you. for once, he is not laughing.

“so, you want me to fire up the ol’ brain-box or what?”

Ford swallows. his throat is raw, lips cracked from dehydration, huge dark eye bags under his tired eyes. he just nods slowly.

Bill snaps his fingers. “one mind, comin’ riiiiight up!”

Ford is too desperate so he immediately reaches for your hand, for the warmth that should be there. the proof that this was the right choice, that he did not just ruin you. your fingers curl around his, but they are too strong in their grip. your eyes are unfocused, glassy

something is wrong.

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ making a run for it ]❜

ft. mysta rias, ike eveland, vox akuma, shu yamino, luca kaneshiro (separate) x gn! reader  — luxiem, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ how difficult is it to escape from them?┊3k words

contains: yandere!! obsessive & possessive behavior, kidnapping & isolation, chains, mention of death, delusions, forced physical affection, overuse of the word “love”, overprotectiveness, probably inaccurate vox lore, possibly ooc, not proofread or beta-read, this is a train wreak of sewn together thoughts

➤ author's note: the image quality is so bad ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ i don’t watch luxiem that much and don’t really write for them as a result, but that should change because they are cuties

you lost track long ago of how many days it’s been since you’ve been captured, morning and night blurring together since your enclosure had no windows— it must have been nearly a year since you remember him saying something about your first anniversary coming up. the cold metal cuff around your ankle was just as heavy as when it was first fastened, the chain just long enough for you to reach the corners of the room and the bathroom while being fastened to the leg of his bed. you had every inch of it memorized and explored: the books were worn from being read so many times, the area was spotless without a speck of dust because you kept cleaning the place up, and the most excitement you ever got was from another movie getting added to the streaming service on the television since he didn’t let you have any access to the internet.

just like a bird in a cage, you’ve been locked away and isolated for only your captor’s eyes at night when he comes home from his daily activities. you no longer had any other purpose in the world than to be his to adore and admire, to spoil with material gifts that couldn’t fill the empty hole in your heart, and to be the object of his delusions that you feel the same. the thought of remaining here for the rest of your life as his ‘lover” made you shudder and feel sick to your stomach, a thought that you simply couldn’t get used to even though all hope seemed to be lost. you missed your family and friends dearly, already beginning to forget their faces and the sound of their laughter to your horror. you had to escape somehow no matter what the cost may be, preferably alive and fully intact, but you had no idea if their love for you would be greater than their rage when they found you missing.

━━━ .°˖✧ mysta rias ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ once you had a general idea of what you do, you were a bit hesitant to put it in motion since you didn’t have the specifics in mind and terrified that it would all go wrong with how flimsy it was, but you would never be able to leave if you didn’t take courage. however, if you knew that it would have been so easy and that everything went exactly as you planned, you would have done it ages ago. you couldn’t describe the euphoria you felt when the warm rays of the sun kissed your skin and the gentle breeze welcomed you to the outdoors, practically skipping off to make your long-awaited escape. truly, you were a fool to think it would have been so simple when you were up against a genius detective.

╰₊✧ maybe mysta let you run away on purpose just so that he could drag you back for the fun of it, would you believe it? running away was the easy bit, the real challenge is staying away. despite his laid-back and careless attitude, he’s quite the sadist who loves the image of happiness draining from your eyes and being re-filled with sheer terror when he finds you in the next country over. you’ll be completely helpless against him as he drags to back to his home, tearing you apart from new loved ones just as he did before. it’s so easy for him to destroy all the optimism of being free and sinking back into the despair of being his. it doesn’t matter how much you try to cover your tracks, how far you run, how much you alter your appearance with an identity change, he’ll track you down because the red string of fate always brings him back to you.

you can’t help but feel cold when he holds you, useless as the feeling of desolation rendered you unable to fight against him. you just let yourself be limp and wallow in how pathetic you are, trying to muffle your cries against his shoulder even though you soaked the orange fabric. he didn’t even bother saying any words of comfort and just patted your head your head with his gloved hands, but you both knew that it was an empty gesture that wouldn’t console you in the slightest. there was nothing he could due to make you feel better when he’s the source of all of your woes, so he doesn’t really bother with it.

for any normal person, the tears of their partner would shatter their heart to pieces, especially if they were the reason for it. they would apologize, buy gifts, and do anything they could to show their remorse because they love them. mysta loves you too, he loves you so much, but he loved your misery even more. there’s nothing that he enjoys more than your teary eyes like little crystals brimming over and the cute little sobs you would let out while trying to hide how much he influenced your emotions. he’s sick, so sick, but there’s nothing that could cure him, not even attempts to snap him out of his cruel ways and make him love you in a healthy manner.

━━━ .°˖✧ ike eveland ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ a man with intelligence, but no remarkable prowess to stop you from leaving. he doesn’t have extraordinary deduction skills like mysta, magic like shu, an influence like luca, or inhuman powers like vox, but he has his own charms that work in his favor and keep you by his side. he’s just so… sweet and gentle. you can feel his love radiating in his actions and his words, almost making you forget about the fact you were being held captive entirely. his kindness is the main hurdle, making guilt pool in your stomach because you feel like you were betraying his kindness when he took care of you and treated you like a queen.

╰₊✧ you thoroughly believe that you would have fallen in love with him properly if given the time to do so, but unfortunately, he turned out to be batshit crazy and no amount of bonding is enough to make you completely forget that. once your resolve is solidified that it wasn’t love he felt for you but was instead pure unaltered obsession, putting your plot into action feels more possible. it’s more difficult than escaping from the detective who purposely let you go, but if you manage to outsmart the novelist, you’ll finally find yourself free.

he whistles as he walks down the corridor, holding a silver tray in his hands that has a glass of strawberry lemonade and two decadent slices of cake in your favorite flavor. there’s nothing like spending time with the one he loves the most and a sweet treat in the mid-afternoon, a little pep in his step to show just how excited he is for this routine that occurs about twice a week. in his satchel, he holds a few novels that he thinks you would enjoy and will be asking for your thoughts about the previous books he gave you as he always does. everything was perfect from the weather to his mood to your love life, he doesn’t think anything would be able to ruin it.

at least he thought there wasn’t anything that could ruin it, unable to explain how far his heart dropped when he couldn’t find you anywhere. he ran about the manor in a frenzy, thoroughly searching through every room and crevice while calling out your name. rushing back to your shared bedchamber to properly examine the scene of the crime where he last saw you, he realized that the chain had been broken somehow. he felt dizzy and ill, falling into an armchair and throwing his head back to try and make the world stop spinning.

he couldn’t believe this was happening after everything was going so well! did he do something wrong? did he upset you or offend you in some way? he racks his brain for anything he might have said or done for you to leave him, so deep in his delusions of true love that he doesn’t even consider the fact that kidnapping you and holding you against your will for about a year would have anyone running for the hills. maybe you would come back on your own, finding it in your heart to forgive him and return to be his again? who is he kidding, you’ll never come back unless he looks for you himself! he’ll go and give you flowers and chocolates, and if you still reject him, he’ll simply persist until you remember how much you love him! he’ll follow you to the ends of the earth to remind you of your relationship with him because the two of you were always meant to be together!

━━━ .°˖✧ shu yamino ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ similar to ike, shu is a very smart and clever person, but unlike the novelist, he has quite a few tricks up his sleeve. for instance, his home is laced with so many traps that are installed by his magic, like a temple straight out of indiana jones to protect his treasure. of course, he is the only one who can enter and exit as he pleases— the protection spell isn’t just there to keep you in, it’s also there to keep anyone who may be looking for you out. once he detects that someone is in his property, a simple snap of his fingers teleports you somewhere else until they leave. sometimes you find yourself in an abandoned city or the middle of a grassy field without warning, terrified but unable to find help no matter how far you try to run. wherever you are, he always knows the exact location and can summon you back just as easily as he banished you.

╰₊✧ he acts as though nothing happened, chatting just like he did before you found out his true colors. you can hardly even tell that he has such a manic love for you, remaining awkward as ever while referencing memes that you’ll never understand since you don’t have any interaction with the outside world. he isn’t half as delusional as the other boys, knowing that his affection for you is completely unrequited and will never be reciprocated, yet he still did it anyway because he just couldn’t help himself. you don’t understand this enigma of a man in the least bit, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t completely alter the course of your life and give you lasting trauma, but at least he doesn’t force affection on you… which is the bare minimum and you are still set on leaving.

the creaking of the door was enough to make you panic a bit, filling the disturbingly quiet house. you weren’t quite sure where shu was, but if he wasn’t with you, then he wasn’t here at all. this was the first time you had left the room and the first time you were exploring the house since you were unconscious when he brought you in. it looked standard, like your average, run-of-the-mill home that you would see in television shows, and impossible to guess that there was a prisoner inside. as a result, it was pretty easy to navigate the place and you found what you thought was the exit within minutes. you found a set of keys hidden in a living room drawer and decided to test them out in the front door, not knowing of the traps and naively thinking it would be simple.

unable to contain your excitement, you prepared to inset the first one into the knob, but before it even touched it, the sound of alarms like a thousand cymbals blaring through your ears and making you drop everything from the surprise. you had no idea where the noise was coming from nor did you know how to stop it, quickly dawning on you that you fucked up. running towards a nearby window, you attempted to push it up to climb out of it, but it only seemed to make the sound louder. when you saw a neighbor walking by with a dog, you tried banging on the glass to grab their attention, but it was like you were a ghost and they continued on with their day not knowing they were being begged for help. clearly, his magic was surrounding and you were too stupid to remember that, seeing flames of purple beginning to form near you and signifying that he was home to see what the commotion was about. you can only hope that he won’t be too upset with you.

━━━ .°˖✧ vox akuma ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ how unlucky are you to be the object of the great voice demon’s affections! he rarely ever lets you out of his sight as being a demon in the modern era means that he too must stay hidden from the public eye. it’s suffocating being under his observant eye, something as much as blinking doesn’t go under his radar. since he isn’t human, his senses are heightened with him being to hear so much as a floorboard creaking or smell the blood of you getting a paper-cut from a different room, leading him to be able to just sense your presence no matter where you are since you’re never far from him anyways. you don’t quite understand it, but what you do understand is that it makes escape much more difficult.

╰₊✧ he’s just so overprotective of you and you get it, having heard the story of his clan and how he lost them when they were all so dear to him, but it’s no excuse for his extremely possessive behavior. you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been outside and touched grass that wasn’t in his garden. he’s always by your side and never leaves unless you need to use the restroom or something, like a guard dog that doesn’t understand boundaries, yet even dogs could be forgiven for not knowing any better. the only time you don’t feel watched is when he’s asleep, with an arm thrown around you, but unconscious nonetheless.

you were more aware of every shift of his body and every breath he took than you would be if he was really your lover, unable to get a second of rest when being coddled like this. you feared that if you squirmed at all, he would automatically tighten his grip around you, but was pleasantly surprised when you were able to wiggle free. hearing him grunt made your heart stop, but he stayed asleep until you tried to get off the bed and stepped on the ground. hearing him ask where you were going made you sweat bullets, but you just said you were off to get a glass of water.

unfortunately, he decided to get up himself to go get it for you, leaving you sitting on the Alaskan king-sized mattress thinking about your fate. you doubt that you’ll ever get away from him, he’ll just track you down and bring you back. the world is massive, but so is he and you won’t make it very far. you can’t hide from a demon, not for long enough to sigh in relief anyway. if walking on wood with bare feet was enough to wake him from his slumber, hearing you open a door or window would be enough to have him running.

━━━ .°˖✧ luca kaneshiro ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ your prison is a palace dusted with gold, you’re served the finest food on silver platters, you’re decorated with jewels that are worth millions, but the splendor isn’t enough to distract you from the fact that you’re a prisoner. normally, you could only dream of living in a place like this where you’re doted on by a lover and spoiled rotten with whatever you want, yet you would do anything to trade this life for the people he had his men wipe off the face of the earth to have you to himself. it can’t be a paradise when you know it’s stained with the blood drawn by a mafia family.

╰₊✧ escape is next to impossible, as expected of the kaneshiro family. hidden cameras watch your every step and guards are lined up in every hallway to make sure that no one aside from their masters gets in or out, armed with weapons that they wouldn’t hesitate to use if necessary. even if they have strict orders not to use them against you for any reason, they are still allowed to use physical force to bring you back and any injuries will be regarded as collateral damage.

your legs dragged across the polished marble floors of the hall since you refused to walk back to your room, carried by two burly men in suits who caught you trying to run away for the -nth time. just like all previous attempts, you were caught within five minutes, which is an improvement to last time yet still not even close to enough to reach the pearly gates of freedom. knowing that you’ll need more then double of that to get out is disheartening, but everyone knows that you’re going to try again. you’ve learned that it really doesn’t cost anything to make a run for it, they don’t even punish you for it since luca loves you too much for that so they just throw you back on the bed before leaving.

there are a few bruises from their rough handling, but nothing too serious. you’d be willing to walk out of there with a broken arm if needed, you just wanted to go home and see the remaining few who weren’t picked off by the mafia again. later that day, you’ll be gifted with new dresses and shoes that shimmer in the light of the grand chandelier of your room to try and convince you to stay, however, there isn’t any use for such items if others couldn’t see it as well. if you keep trying, you’ll make it a little further as you learn from your mistakes, maybe even one of his men will feel pity for you or get sick of your antics and just let you go. you’ll only know if you keep trying.

[ynsvnte]

From the heart - Nishimura Riki

Genre: fluff, drabble, est. relat. wc: 517 , warnings: kissing, pet names (baby, sweetheart, my love) pairing: bf!niki x gn!reader

Note: list 2, prompt 4 + list 3, prompt 2. This is for @okwonyo event!!

Masterlist

Today was a normal day. Just you and Niki staying home. Enjoying each other's company. Not too long ago you got home from work. So it was nice to finally relax at home. You were welcomed with a smile by the boy you love so dearly. You both were just talking about how your guys day went with work.

“I tried somewhat to force her to buy me more books an- wait are you even listening..?” You paused in the middle of your sentence to only see Niki staring at you while smiling.

“Yeah continue..” he said, nodding his head. “Okay..?” You responded slightly confused, but let it go. So you continued telling how your day went. Until Niki got up and went right behind you.

“Huh what are you doing..?” You asked him. “Shh just continue my love, promise with all my heart I’m listening..” Niki wasn’t lying. He was listening, but when you went on a ramble about your day, it made you look so cute that he couldn’t help but want to cradle you into a tight hug.

You were speaking, until you felt fingers playing with your hair. “Hey..this them third time..” you said, just slightly annoyed. “Babe, come on. Just let me do your hair why you go on about your day.” You sigh, just agreeing. Niki smiled happily before running to the room to get a hair brush. He quickly comes back and sits back in his spot before pulling you closer to him.

“You may now continue, sweetheart.” Niki said, placing a kiss on your cheek. You slightly blushed at his actions and began speaking. You felt very relaxed. Niki was brushing your hair, making sure he wasn’t hurting you in any way.

Niki always loved playing around with your hair. Putting it in new hairstyles. Or just fooling around. Which today you’d hope is not one of those days.

“Done.” He said smiling proudly at his work. “Okay..” you say and get up and head to the nearest mirror to check out your hair. You look at yourself staring at your hair. Luckily he chose the nice route today. Your hair was done nicely. “Wow, I’m impressed..” you say. Niki smiles and stares at you. Just like he’s falling in love with you all over again. You turned around and faced him and saw him staring at you while smiling fondly. “What’s with the smile..?” You asked him, curious about his smile. “You’re the reason..” Niki walks up to you, cupping your face with one hand and the other hand caressing your cheek. He plants a kiss on your forehead, nose, and lastly lips.

You’ve become accustomed to this act, and you love it so much. You pull him into a hug, Niki returns the hug. Enjoying your embrace.

“I love you..” he says.

“I know..” you tease looking up at him. “You know..?” He asked jokingly.

“Of course I know or why would you be dating me..” you giggled, before escaping his embrace and running away.

“Wait, baby!! Don’t leave me!” He shouts trying to catch up.

Author’s note: yall im get to unmotivated to write now days. Cause I’m invested in reading BOOKS I know I like reading now. And now I want a whole series 4 books but umm yeah 🦧 but I like this please say you also like this 😞 (nah I’m kidding)

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 6

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

~~~

Author's Note: Sorry it took longer than usual! The first bit I wrote was shorter than I wanted, so I kept writing - and now you'll get more than usual instead haha... (Sorry not sorry about sneaking in a bit of a side ship I have, but it fit in this part and I want Karlach to have her hot blacksmith - yay HeartForge!)

Thank you for the comments! <3

Oh, and as I think I mentioned before, this will of course stray from canon but I have and will use things that actually happen in the game too (act 1/2), just FYI.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn't have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only... now you do. And you're not handling it very well, making a rash decision you will regret. Is there a way to undo it?

~~~

It’s eerily quiet when you get back to camp. Not that you expected your friends to still be awake, but the silence feels ominous.

Or perhaps it’s just your guilt making it seem that way.

You’re not sure breaking things off was the wrong decision — the jury is still out on that — but you regret how it happened. Regret being so harsh.

Regret not waiting until morning to have the conversation.

A noise coming from the direction of Gale’s tent snaps you out of your musings. Your body tenses up, readying for battle. Scanning the area, your hand drifts down towards a weapon that isn’t there. You must have dropped it sometime during… during. It aches thinking back and you can’t bring yourself to go back. Not now, anyway. 

You spot a flash of purple and instantly relax. Gale must be awake still. 

Perhaps the gods decided to be lenient after the night you had, giving you the opportunity to stomp out at least one fire you’ve accidentally started before it becomes an uncontrollable inferno.

“Still up, Gale?”

“Tav!” He smiles. “Yes, but I was about to tuck in for the night too.”

His eyes roam over you, but if he suspects what you and Astarion were up to after he and the others left, he doesn’t mention it.

“So, Gale…” You clear your throat. “I actually came over to apologise.”

“Apologise?” He sounds genuinely surprised. “Whatever for?”

“I think I might’ve given you the impression that I’m interested in more than friendship. And that was careless of me.” And apparently, you’re too much of a coward to admit that you used him. “I’m sorry.”

Gale takes a moment before he answers. “You were careless, yes. But I think I may have an inkling as to why.”

“Ah.” Of course he does. “For the record, the circumstances surrounding that… reason, have changed, one might say.” Because you were acting without thought, yet again. “Which doesn’t affect things between us — you and me, I mean. I value our friendship dearly, but–”

“Tav.” Gale holds up a hand to stop you. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

He sounds sincere, and searching his face, you find nothing to suggest otherwise. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I did have a really nice time tonight.”

“Good. Me too.” A half-smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I can’t pretend I wasn’t disappointed when you invited the others, but in retrospect, I think you did the right thing.”

“You’re a good man, Gale.” A hug seems inappropriate, so you place a hand on his arm instead. “I’m sure someone better and kinder than me is waiting somewhere out there for you.”

His smile turns wry. “And I’m sure you and your ‘reason’ can sort things out once you both stop being stubborn arses.”

It’s probably because you’re still a bit drunk and in need of sleep, but you can’t stop yourself from bursting out laughing. “I think we would need a miracle for that.” Gale isn’t wrong, both you and Astarion are often too stubborn for your own good.

You expect Gale to at least chuckle, but instead, his expression softens. “It seems a miracle we’re all still alive, so who’s to say we can’t have another?”

He sounds so serious you stop laughing just as abruptly as you started. The hurt from before resurfaces, because there’s a bigger obstacle than stubbornness in your way. “I think I would need more than one miracle to accomplish what you’re talking about, and I doubt that I’m that lucky.”

Because even if you would talk, he still doesn’t love you, and in your current miserable state, you doubt that he ever will. To your dismay, you feel tears threatening to spill. Perhaps you should’ve waited until tomorrow to talk to Gale, after all.

Gale comes closer and puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it, sympathy plain on his face. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

This conversation has taken a turn you don’t want to face right now — and with Gale, of all people — so you just nod.

“Thank you for your honesty, Tav. Now off to bed with you.” Taking a step back, Gale lets his hand drop, Gale. “We both need all the sleep we can get, I think.”

“We do, yes.” You turn to leave but not before giving him another smile. “Thank you, Gale.” You don’t elaborate, but you can tell that you don’t have to as he bows his head in understanding.

“Goodnight, Tav. Sleep well.”

“You too, goodnight.”

As you walk over to your tent to change before going to bed, you think you see movement in the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head to look, there’s nothing there.

“And now you’re imagining things,” you mutter to yourself. “No more alcohol for you until we’re somewhere safe.”

Whenever that may be.

The following days go by in a whirlwind of events, and even if you somehow would have plucked up the nerve to talk to Astarion, you never get the chance. 

First, it was Elminster showing up to talk to Gale. You’re still not convinced it was a good idea to let him into your camp — most likely not, considering the message he was here to deliver.

You know you probably should’ve waited to let Gale have the time to process, but he insisted you press on and next thing you knew, your party was in the Shadowlands, facing goblins and driders and Harpers.

And Jaheira.

Astarion has been ignoring you as much as he can since the night, but you could sense his approval when you refused to drink the wine Jaheira offered you. Perhaps you can mend things between the two of you, in time. You desperately hope so, because a part of you already misses the chats. His embrace. The connection.

Last Light Inn turns out to be a place with many familiar faces, but after the long day you’ve all had, you decide to rest before reacquainting yourself with everyone — with one exception. 

To your — and Karlach’s — delight, you find Dammon in the stables outside the inn building.

You hide a smile when Dammon lights up at the sight of the Karlach. He may be greeting all of you, but his eyes rarely leave the Tiefling, even when he talks to you and the others. It soothes your aching heart to know that things might work out for at least one of you, even if your own love life seems doomed.

Somewhere along the way, she’s become one of your best friends. She deserves nothing but happiness, and it feels like she’s one step closer when Dammon tells her that he can craft an insulating chamber for the infernal engine. It’s not a permanent solution, but it’s enough, for now, to finally allow her to touch people again.

You stand back as Karlach instals the chamber; Dammon looks at her so intently it almost feels like you’re intruding.

The chamber clicks into place.

“Go on,” Dammon says, lifting a hand. “Give us your hand.”

Circumstances aside, it’s a lovely moment, watching the two of them.

“Damn. I’m good.” Dammon laces their fingers for the briefest of moments. “And you — you’re very touchable.”

They’re both so adorable you wish you could grab the others and leave these two be. And perhaps you also wish that this could be you and a certain vampire that is currently looking everywhere but at you.

Letting go of Dammon, Karlach turns to you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from her yet.

“Tav! I can touch you now!”

“I’m so happy for you, Karlach! May I hug you?”

“Yes.” Her smile wavers with emotion. “Please.”

Her skin is hot against yours but it’s not unbearable, so you wrap your arms tight around her, glad to finally be able to hug your friend.

“Thank you.” She sounds close to tears. “Talk more back at camp, yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Karlach? I need to explain the bad news too.”

You can feel a hitch in her movements and when she pulls back, her smile is strained.

She listens to what Dammon has to say, but you’re not sure she fully accepts it. You decide to leave it, for now, not wanting to dim her joy more than necessary.

Back at camp, Karlach keeps touching everyone here and there — even a moody Lae’zel accepts it, albeit reluctantly — and her happiness seems to lift the spirit of the others, too.

When everything calms down for the night, you seek her out. You can feel Astarion’s eyes on you, and in a moment of bravery, you decide you’ll talk to him after you’ve spoken to Karlach.

“Karlach? May I come in?”

“Of course! You’re always welcome into my tent, Tav.” She’s ever-moving, still brimming with energy. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine.” You decide to get right to the point. “I’m actually here to talk about you.”

“About me?”

“It was impossible not to notice the chemistry between Dammon and you today. With everything that’s happened, and considering what the future seems to hold for us… I think you should seize the moment. Go and find him. Be happy, while we still have time.”

Karlach stops to look at you, uncertain. “You think he would want that?”

“I do. He looked just as smitten as you clearly are.” 

“He did, didn’t he?” Her expression turns a bit bashful. “I didn’t just imagine it?”

“No, definitely not. And we won’t be rushing out of here just yet, so if you find yourself inclined to spend the night with him…”

“Tav!”

You shrug, holding back a grin. “I’m just saying.”

“Right.” She nods to herself. “You’re right. I should go right now, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes. Go, shoo.”

She laughs. “So eager to get rid of me. Planning to seduce someone yourself, Tav? I’ve seen your looks towards a certain someone.”

You don’t bother holding back the curse as you both leave her tent. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yeaaah. But it’s fine, and I’m rooting for you.”

You look around, searching for the man in question. “Does that mean that everyone…?”

“Think so, yeah.”

“Fuck. Double fuck.” So everyone knows. And Astarion is nowhere to be found. Again. “He’s not here.”

“Wanna tag along to the Inn? Perhaps he’s there?”

You’re not sure you’ll be able to approach him if he’s there but not alone, but then again, there’s probably no use waiting in camp either. “Yes, why not?”

You tell yourself that if he’s not there, you’ll drink one beer — because gods know you need it — and then you’ll head back. It’s been a long day, and even with everything buzzing around in your mind like a swarm of hornets, you’ll probably have no trouble falling asleep the moment your head hits your bedroll.

It turns out that Karlach is right, Astarion is there. You spot him right away, sitting on a barstool, a goblet of wine in his hand. But he’s not alone. He’s sitting very, very close to someone. You can’t see their face, but the way Astarion holds himself, the way he moves his hand to touch their shoulder…

It seems he has found someone else to spend the night with.

As is his right, but the pain is more than you can handle. You won’t stop him, but it’s impossible to stay and watch it happen. The jealousy would break you. As unluck would have it, Astarion chooses that moment to glance over his shoulder, and before you have time to react, he sees you.

Leave. You have to leave. You spin around and flee through the door, almost bumping into one of the Harpers. You’re making a fool of yourself, but you’d rather have that than seeing a smug expression on Astarion’s face.

Half-running towards camp, you decide it’s time to get over yourself. Astarion clearly has moved on — and so should you.

~~~

[yurinaa-world]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Blade, Dan Heng, Sampo x Gender-neutral Reader

𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Holding hands

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: fluff, spelling mistakes,

Handing hands pt 2 (Jing yuan & Dr. Ratio)

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

“Bladie….Bladie…Blade!” You call out to him. You had been sitting beside him talking to him, but he wasn’t talking back. Nothing unusual, leaning yourself into him. “Bladie!” “What do you want?” He glared, making himself look more intimidating to scare you, but you know he loves you so dearly.

“Such an attitude today? Hmm? Well, anyway, you raise your hand like mine! Want to hold your  hand?"You smile with your hand, your finger spread out. “Why would I do that?”

“Because..you love..don’t you..don’t tell me! You’ve fallen out of love with me??"You say dramatically, such a handful you can be just to get blade attention, “You don't love me; I've been a fool all this time. I’M NOT BEAUTIFUL.” You exaggerate your eyes, filled with fake tears.

He just sighs at your fake tears before grabbing your hand and intertwining with his "Aww, you really do." “You talk too much,” he says, shutting you up, not wanting to deal with any more of your shenanigans.

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

“Dannn Heengg," you stretch his name, rolling around lying on his bed while he puts information into your recent expedition's archive. Wanting to get his attention even though he was ignoring you, all he did was archive things, like, who cares about a leaf of the planet you just visited?

No one in Express would go to the archives to care about that! “Come on, spend some time with me instead; I'm more fun!” You complained that your hair was all messed up, and you got up from his bed.

Trying another way to persuade him. Wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and pressing your cheek against his back, his breath hitching at the feeling of you against his back, his entire body stopping in its tracks “I’ll hold your hand for now; just let go of me, and I’ll give you all my attention when I’m finished,” he mutters while trying to keep calm.

“Really! “ You cheered, moving to his side and tightly grabbing a hold of his hand while you giggled.

“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t bother you, I swear!

𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾

“It ain’t happening." You look at Sampo, unimpressed, sitting on the couch. his failed attempts at trying to hold your hand, he sure wasn't slick about it either, and without any ounce of shame in his body, “What~? My hands are so cold; I need something or someone to warm them  up."He says he is batting his eyelashes as if he were some kind of high school girl in a cheesy romance movie. You roll your eyes while he moves closer to you and presses himself against you.

"You don't have anything better to do, Sampo, like scam people." You say you are pushing him away from yourself. "Does holding your hand count?" Hearing those words just made you cringe internally. "No." "Why not?" He said he was looking up at you with a pout.

"You're so mean!" He whined and let out an exaggerated sigh, then just kept on going and going, not shutting up.

"Just shut up! Hold my hand." You snap, getting annoyed with his stupid act. After that, you felt his fingers wrap around yours while you groan in annoyance. You huff while trying to pull your hand away, but he's having none of it and grips your hand tighter.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[polutrope]

For Day 1 of @arafinwean-week, some Angrod and Galadriel pre-Darkening. G, 900 words. On AO3.

“You are too agitated,” Artanis said, without judgement. She combed her fingers through her brother’s hairtail, shaking free a shower of white sand. “You will never make the leap with a heart weighed down by cares.” 

“Stop fussing, sister,” Angaráto yanked his head free, “I am fine. I am only out of practice.” He bounced in place a moment, visualising his leap. Or at least trying to. His distraction was transparent to Artanis: his head stayed squared over his shoulders, but his eyes darted here and there; he pulled his lips too tight, forgetting to breathe, so his in-breath hissed before he took off: one, two, three, and his feet came down far short of the mark. He slid and crashed onto the sand.

With a graceless flail and groaning, he rolled onto his back, limbs splayed in surrender, then heaved a great sigh.

Artanis came to stand beside him, looking down. She poked at his ribs with her toes. “Are you all right?”

Angaráto chuckled. “Oh, little sister. You always know, don’t you?” She shrugged, leaving space for him to continue. Everyone always talked, eventually, if you waited. “Would you like to know what it was this time? I am ashamed to admit it. I cannot abide that elf! He has only to look my way with his ruddy little cheeks and his sneering little lips and I…” Angaráto grabbed fistfuls of sand and tossed them at his feet. “Well: we saw Morifinwë in the marketplace, and he was giving the fishmonger – you know the one, Mother’s friend – a horrible time, complaining that she had purposely given him the smaller catch, accusing her of doing so because she was a supporter of Nolofinwë. She answered, with commendable humour, that she did not care at all who was king so long as there were people who wanted fish. That coloured Morifinwë perfectly crimson, and he began railing about lineage and honour and the memory of Míriel Therindë — Can you imagine! The poor woman is trying to sell her fish, and this haughty son of Fëanáro strides up to accuse her — because his fish was too small! — of callousness and treason!” 

Angaráto was himself becoming rather flush recounting the tale. Artanis crouched to sit cross-legged beside him on the ground. His lips were pursed and his mouth shifted from side to side, as if he was trying very hard not to speak until he had fully considered what he wanted to say. Angaráto was not typically good at this. 

“Well,” he sighed at last, “it will do no good trying to hide the whole of it, I suppose, certainly not from you. Besides, the whole marketplace saw it, everyone will hear of it eventually… I couldn’t just let it be, Artanis. It was unjust! So I… I pulled off his belt and smacked him with it,” he said in a rush, then cried, “Augh!” and covered his eyes in shame.

Artanis burst into laughter. “Ango! You child! That is worse that I imagined.”

“Not hard! Just to teach him a lesson in humility. And I did let him have it back.”

“You are a grown man, brother.” 

“What would you have done?” His head lolled to the side so he could properly look at her.

Artanis considered. “Snuff out Carnistir’s temper first, I suppose.”

“Ah, so you’d have doused Prince Morifinwë in a bucket of salty, fishy water? Yes, that would have been clever.”

“No!” She smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand. “No, I’d have pretended I had business with the fishmonger.”

“And interrupted him? Oh, he’d not have taken well to that.”

“At first not, I am sure. But once I got a pleasant conversation going with the woman, he’d have no audience for his anger, and would quickly begin to feel a fool, barking about nothing for no one. Eventually, he’d sulk off like a sad dog with his tail between his legs.”

“Pfft! I should like to see that.” Angaráto propped himself up on one elbow. “But, I will grant it would have been better than what I chose to do. Few things would have been worse.”

Artanis smiled. She loved her brothers, dearly – but sometimes they were awfully obtuse. As far as she was concerned, they were all tossing themselves willingly into Prince Curufinwë’s pot of discontent and letting him stir them up into a boil. 

A comfortable silence settled between them, and Artanis marked the easing of her brother’s agitation by the slow rise and fall of his chest. So she asked: “Why do you think he is like that?” 

“Who?” 

“Carnistir. Why do you think he is so quarrelsome?”

Angaráto snorted. “I don’t know. He’s always been that way. He was named for being angry.”

“Perhaps.” Artanis paused. Even she had to delve deep into her heart to find understanding for her disagreeable half-cousins. But who might she have become with a brash, implacable, hateful father like theirs? Who would strong and dauntless Angaráto have become, in a household full of bitterness and anguish? 

“Or,” she said, “perhaps he was never shown another way. Whatever the case may be,” she stood, dusting the sand from her thighs, “it will do no good to blow wind upon the flames.” She offered her hand. “Try not to mind him, if you can, dear brother?”

“Very well.” Angaráto clasped her hand in his and allowed himself to be pulled up to standing. “I will try.” 

[missmarveledsblog]

Bet on it ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader) part 5

summary : the daunting reality of everything that has happened leaves bradley taking it out on jake and finally finding out why their feud began in the first time and which leave Bradley knowing he really needs to see her and make it all right but can he ?

warning : angsty bitch up in here , not proof read , grammatical errors ( soz)

previous part

 She wanted to wake up , this had to be a sick nightmare that she wanted  no needed to wake up from . some from of terror of the fact she was leaving it had to be . Yet the pain that shattered her heart into a million pieces only proved of how real it was . the best time of her life tainted in the childish action of two men she loved dearly.  The constant reminders she was to face of her own stupidity to  think it was real to think he couldn’t hurt her again .. how fucking wrong she was  . her phone was on constant vibrate as everyone tried to ring and text , they all had to witness the worst part of her life . she sat on the sofa reaching for something,anything to wipe her eyes and  of course it had to one of his stupid  Hawaiian shirts , when she went to the kitchen  more stupid reminders of them both . it wasn’t only bradley’s betrayal , jakes stung just as bad. He knew it all , knew their history   and still done this all for the sake of  the bronco ,  the fact he done it all for his car was something she couldn’t help but laugh at. 

“ kid open the door or i’ll use my spare key”  her dad called  as she ran to the door looking up at the man before breaking down in his arms . 

“ i was so stupid  how could i be so stupid dad” she cried. 

“ you are not stupid and as pissed as i am at those two there’s gotta be more to this “ he sighed leading her into the room shutting the door.  

“ i know you wanna see best in him cause of uncle nick but dad he made me think  .. he had me so fooled i honestly thought he love me and it was all some bet to keep his stupid fucking bronco  , in front of all my friends and family , my bosses. Thank god i don’t have to work my last week  how can i show my face outside that door “ she cried harder.  “ i’m leaving tonight i can  get air bnb til my place is ready but i can’t stay here not “ she stood wiping her eyes.  

“ come on sleep on it please for me “he followed after. 

“ dad i need to get out of here  i can’t face anyone right now i will let you know i’m ok but i am going whether you like it not i can’t stay here , i’ll send money and details for storage unit for my stuff please don’t try stop me” she rushed around . 

“ least let me drive you to the airport” he sighed. 

“ ok but i’m not changing my mind i can stay here with reminder of it all “ she nodded. 

He barely slept and the hour or two he did he was hoping he was waking from a shitty dream . that he didn’t lose the best thing in his life . that he didn’t break the heart of the woman he loved because of something so stupid . fuck he’d sell the bronco piece by piece if it meant he could make it right .   he wished he could go back  deny the bet  and go for her like he should of like he always deep down known .  how she was his forever and now his future look bland it look nothing  in comparison . all the dreams  he had of what his future would look like  it didn’t matter who was going to be there once it meant she was by his side .  in the snap of his fingers it was gone , she was gone knowing he shouldn’t of listened to jake , he should crawled on his hands and knee and begged her to forgive him . to know he really loves her , his feelings for her was why he wanted the stupid bet to end , that they never part of it . everytime he closed his eyes the heartbroken expression , her words of venom in his ear  and he was the cause of it , he couldn’t just get over his ego and stupid feud from when they were barely adult and just admitted he was in love with her long before he even thought of it . he stood looking at her door trying to think of the words that were to come out his mouth , sorry didn’t seen to even come close to worthy and yet it was all he had . the first knock went unanswered ,  then he banged louder til he was thumping the wood in desperation . it was only til her neighbor came out  still half asleep. 

“ she left last night with her dad and suitcase now stop  the banging before i call the cops “  the woman snapped . 

“ what you mean left?”  he felt the bile rise in throat , that dizzy feeling catching up with him big time . 

“ new york , thought she was leaving next week but poor girl was upset when she was saying goodbye , such a lovely girl and great neighbor “ she sighed as bradley waved her off. He couldn’t hear whatever she was saying not that he care that sick feeling that sunk to the bottom of his stomach and the realization that it was too late .  she was gone before he could make it right.

Walking into the base it was loud enough tension was high nat wouldn’t even look at any of them , she was kicking herself for not finding it out sooner putting stop to it . all guilty in the humiliation in their friend when they meant well none of them could raise their head high , none of them could look Mav in the eyes when he walked in .  hangman looked just as rough  like he hadn’t slept nor had he really done much of anything , his hair wasn’t styled to perfection , dark circles in under his eye. He felt shit . he looked shit and he wished he never thought of it , the huge gamble was not worth this risk , he wish he thought of anything but this. He wanted his friends to be happy , he knew they both had feelings for each other but he knew they were too stubborn , her guard was too hight up and his stupid ego  was in the way . 

“ sir .. we are so sorry it wasn’t.. It wasn’t our intention to make y/n sad” fanboy spoke up the guilt hitting him hard knowing if he kept it quiet everything would of been ok , everyone would of been happy. 

“ what were you thinking .. a bet really your grown adults acting like stupid kids and because of that stupidity my daughter is heartbroken and other side of the united states because she cant bare to face the humiliation” he didn’t yell , he wanted to but he couldn’t in his heart he couldn’t scream and yell . 

“ she left?” nat gasped . 

“ she left last night staying in a hotel til she can move into her apartment “ he  nodded knowing the female pilot was just in the dark as he was . 

“ so much for tomorrow bagman “ rooster spat . 

“ i didn’t know she was gonna leave bradshaw” he snapped back .

“ your stupid idea in first place “ bradley stood pushing the chair back . 

“ it was to get your stupid ass to  make a move” he stood before anyone could react  the two charged at each other both angry but yet the feelings being brought out in different ways .. angry at themselves and taking it out on each  other as each hit landed til they were finally pulled apart. 

“ YOU BOTH NEED TO GROW THE FUCK UP , YOU WANNA BLAME SOMEONE LOOK IN THE MIRROR “ Mav yelled as they both panted .

“ i never meant to hurt her , i thought it could be different then what happened in the past sir “ 

“ she told you ?” pete asked shock she wouldn’t even tell him what the whole thing was . 

“ that she froze me out” bradley scoffed. 

“ it wasn’t for nothing she heard you with your buddies , how she was a clingy  tag along that barely gave you space to breathe  , dopey little girl with her head in the cloud and stick up her ass and why did you say all that ? because you buddy asked why you didn’t sleep with her “ jake scoffed. 

“ i said it because they wanted to i didn’t mean it , she was only gone 18 and i brought her to stupid party and they wanted to sleep with her but i said it they wouldn’t  that’s why she stop … god  why did she even give me a chance “ he groaned. 

“ who even are you because i know this isn’t the son of nick and carole “ pete shook his head. 

 “ i pretty sure my dad would of punched me  for it  hell i think my mom would of too ,why haven’t you ? ” he sighed holding his head in his hands. 

“ rest of you go … you two i want to get to the bottom of this because i know as pissed as i am  , there is more to this  “ he stood as the others left . “ know you two start fighting , throwing fist i will take disciplinary action  “ he stood .

“ i was stupid , i came up with the bet hoping it would give his brain a shake and he would grow a pair finally tell her how he really felt it was never to make her the butt of a joke or  to be humiliated “jake started  , his voice even crack and he as well as the other two thought he was going to crying. 

“ i was dumb then and now i didn’t us my brain and it was real everything i said to you that night and those feeling it was real it was all real and now i fucked it up because  i’m a stupid asshole who doesn’t use his head or grow up , she was always there for me even when i didn’t deserve it  phoenix let it slip even when we were fighting she would chip in on presents add it to someone else’s so that i didn’t know it was and then when we were together i was so happy like actually happy for first time in such a long time .. back then when she stopped talking to me i hated her for it i’m not going to lie i did because it felt like i was losing yet another person in my life” he gritted his tears spilling down his cheeks angry at himself present and past. “ if  i just done the right thing instead of what i thought was the right thing i wouldn’t have lost the woman of my dream , i wouldn’t have lost my best friend and i get if your pissed and angry  and i get if you hate me for this Mav i hate me , i hate that i lost her , i hate that i hurt her so many time and now i can’t even make it right” he sobbed hell it brought a tear to jake eyes. 

“You’re not an  idiot .. you do idiotic things yes but  i know you and i know this isn’t you bradley and nothing is too late but you do need to find a way to make it right because you hurt her badly this time  but i of all people know  it never too late” he sighed patting his shoulder . 

“ i have leave right i can put in for leave and go to new york “ he nodded . 

“ i do to , you aint only one who need make this right “ jake spoke up .

“ put in the request and i’ll help you out once it cleared but don’t make me regret helping you bradley” Mav nodded. 

A month in the big apple  she wasn’t crying as much and first week she started was probably the worst first week  ever had .  though the pain of it all didn’t magically disappear well least she wasn’t an emotional wreck 24/7  although crying session in the shower and watching tv was still a regular.  The work element she decided to detach her personal life knowing she was there to learn , gain experience instead of wallowing about the shit show her life really was. It took so many month of her life and it wasn’t taking more, more of the fact she was constantly drained and tired over the emotional turmoil of it all .  she’d made a couple of could she call them friend and marcus was on the same programme the only one who knew what she was going through . why she constantly felt so stressed , why her smiles were masks instead genuine reactions . being the rock she needed , phoenix and beth too even though they were still back in san diego they made sure to keep letting her know they missed her and checking on her .  nat did tell her how both jake and bradley were rough at first she felt some what glad  well not glad but it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one hurting and she wanted to get in contact when she  came out on top of her group she wanted to text jake tell him like she used to and yet she couldn’t she was still hurt , he still hurt her as much as bradley did .  in all that anger , distrust and sadness she missed them both she miss her best friend she missed her life before she found out about the stupid bet. Those thought needed to stop , she needed to stop feeling the pity  finally agreed to go out with marcus celebrate they finally made it as she got ready .  it was getting closer to going , she wanted to text and cancel but couldn’t he’d been  missing out on going out with new friends to wipe her tears and supply her with ice cream as she cried to sappy movies. 

A few hours of sleep and help from people he truly didn’t deserve their help  he and jake were standing in some place  that he was hoping was the right one .  the second the approval was given the two were on a flight to new york , marcus promised he would get her there only because beth told him to .     they both stood thinking of what they could say mentally preparing themselves for it all , more of a chance she would ignore them both and they were expecting it but they weren’t going to give up so easily .  a part of him was excited to see her and bigger part was scared , he was scared because he knew when he did see her how she would look at him differently it wouldn’t be the looks of pure love the two shared.  Watching the door like it was the only thing on the earth he was put on it for waiting to see that face and yet when he did , he seen her smiling  again but it wasn’t real it was a show  put on it was only til they locked eyes when the mask slipped off and the true emotion on her face four weeks and five days and she still look as hurt as she did that night . 

“ you have got to be fucking kidding me “ 

part 6

taglist : @peachmartini @paisleebubbles @kawaiiskeletondragonbanana @djs8891 @shanimallina87 @emosrkool

[asraxfile]

…_〆(゜▽゜*) ⠀⠀⠀⠀Wait for your love.

synosis: Minnie was always a better option than your ex anyway trope: best friends to lovers pairing: Minnie x fem!reader genre: fluff warnings: reader crying, kissing word count: 957

A/n: these days I'm getting so many ideas that I dont know which one should I write first. This one inspired me by Ariana's new album Eternal Sunshine with a nice bff to lovers with Minnie. Enjoyy ^^

[10.23pm]

It was a calm and peaceful night. Slight fresh breeze washing through the city’s streets. The moon shone higher and higher as most of the citizens were already ready to finish their day and go to sleep. Minnie just got back from work feeling exhausted.

The preparations for the group’s new comeback were going excellently, but she would lie if she said it wasn’t tiring. She walked up the stairs of her dorm until she got a bunch of loud notifications. She sighed and took her phone to check who was spamming her. A slight smile played at the corner of her lips after she saw it was from you, her crush.

From far as Minnie knew, she has always had a crush on you. Ever since she met you it’s like you brought colors in her world. She could really be her true self when she was with you and she loved you dearly for that. But she was too afraid of ruining your friendship if she ever confessed, she was your best friend, and she won’t let anyone change that.

Well, despite her fear of ruining the relationship you have, there was one more problem that was stopping her, your boyfriend.

Ever since you got in a relationship with him about 5 months ago, Minnie kind of distanced herself from you. Of course she was there and you two sometimes hung out but not as much as Minnie wanted. She was jealous of course but what could she do? She wanted you to be happy even if it means that you’re happy with someone else.

But as soon as she saw what made you text her a million messages her smile dropped from her face.

[10.45pm]

Soft tears escaped your eyes while you hugged Minnie, resting your forehead against her shoulder as she held your upper arms. “I hate him for doing this to me, Minnie. I knew this would happen. I knew he would eventually leave me.” Wiping your eyes you looked at your worried best friend.

Minnie’s heart sank at the thought of you suffering for someone who wasn't even good for you, but even if she hated him for breaking up with you(over literal text), she was still here, comforting you. She wiped the tear that slipped on your cheek and looked deep at you with her almond eyes.

“You didn’t do anything wrong Y/n. He is a coward for breaking up with you and not even daring to face you. I’m so angry at him for making you feel like this, you deserve someone better.” She held your cheek as she calmed you down with her words.

You leaned into Minnie's embrace, seeking comfort in her warmth. She knew she couldn't erase the pain you were feeling, but she could damn well try to make you feel better. “I’m tired of waiting for the better. Maybe there’s no one better for me. Who would love someone so dumb and naive like me, Min?"

With low faith your words slipped out of your mouth. Minnie’s heart ached at your doubting words, she finally had enough. She held you tighter as you sank into her embrace. “Don’t say it like that. Don’t ever doubt your worth just because a fool of a man left you. He couldn’t see what was right in front of him—a beautiful soul, full of love, you deserve so much more than what he could give to you.”

After hearing those words, a spark of hope flickered in your heart. You held Minnie's arms as you let go of her embrace and moved to face her. Minnie’s words surely didn’t sound unmeaningful to you. "Minnie," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, "thank you. Thank you for being here for me, for believing in me when I couldn't believe in myself." in response, Minnie’s eyes softened at your thanks to her. “Always Y/n,” she smiled as she held your hand. “I’ll always be there for you.”

In that quiet moment, Minnie couldn’t control herself. She was briefly lost in your pretty eyes. It all happened in a second and she closed the gap between you and her, placing a heartfelt kiss on your lips. A gasp escaped your mouth as you pulled back, your eyes widened in shock at the unexpected kiss. Minnie's own eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing with a delicate pink blush as she realized what she just did.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/n," Minnie stuttered out, her voice shaking in nervousness, her hand immediately pulling away from yours. "I didn't mean to–” But before she could finish her sentence, you reached out, gently cupping Minnie's cheek and kissing her back. Maybe, just maybe, this was something you wanted to do a couple of times already. As you held Minnie’s cheek, she gently brushed her hand over yours. You pulled back, looking at her confused eyes as you let out a slight chuckle. “It’s okay, Min. I know you did mean to do this.” You whispered as Minnie’s flushed cheeks got even redder.

“Y/n I…” Minnie started still looking at your eyes with a shocked look. “I want to be someone more than your best friend to you.” She whispered out as your eyes scanned her features. In response, you just smiled. “You were always someone more than my best friend Minnie, I was just so blind to see that.” You confessed pulling her into a big hug.

That night Minnie was happier than ever. She will surely prove to you that she is a better option for you, of course she will. She has always been the better one for you and she’s happy you finally realized that.

[cryscendo]

for the kiss prompts, klaine and "kissing your lover to show you forgive them"? <3

omg i loved this prompt!!! it gave me a chance to write something a bit sweeter than i usually write so i hope you love it! idk how long a drabble is typically supposed to be, but im sure i exceeded that here whoops

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson

Word Count: 1152

Rating: G

if anyone would like to send me a prompt, check out the prompt list here!

fic can be read under the cut <3

Blaine still harbored a lot of guilt, Kurt knew. He wasn’t such a fool that he didn’t realize that the sudden proposal was Blaine’s effort to show how devoted he was. And Kurt really did believe him, regardless of how aloof he tried to appear to be at times.

Upon Blaine’s whirlwind proposal, the two of them hadn’t had much time to discuss anything between each other. They were busy having their attention pulled every which way by family and friends alike. And make no mistake — Kurt was grateful for it! He missed his friends dearly ever since moving to New York, and his family even more so. But Kurt was well aware, given their previous struggles with communication, that they would need to talk. It was an inevitability, really.

So that’s what eventually led them to the Hudson-Hummel household alone. “Carole and I are just gonna go see a movie. Maybe also get dinner or something. You boys don’t wait up,” his dad had said, but Kurt knew what he was really saying. The words hidden underneath sounded more like You and Blaine ought to talk about this. And like with most things, his father was right.

It was only seconds after the door closed behind his parents that Blaine started kissing him. And Kurt… he missed this. He really did. Kissing Blaine was something that he could never grow tired of, and after having gone so long without the contact, it felt like home. Sure, he had Adam for a time, and there was also Mr. Schue’s wedding, but those were so different. Kissing Blaine like this; it was with the knowledge that they belong to one another. More so now than ever before.

Which is why they needed to talk about this.

“I can’t believe we’re engaged,” Blaine muttered against Kurt’s mouth, quiet giddiness dripping from his lips and intoxicating Kurt like an aged wine. He couldn’t believe it either, honestly. He had the weight of it around his finger and still couldn’t believe it. He could stay kissing Blaine like this forever, just existing in this rush of gentle joy.

They needed to talk about this.

“It’s everything I ever wanted,” Blaine continued, carefully carding his fingers through Kurt’s hair. He leaned into Kurt, eager to experience closeness that he no doubt had been craving for so long since their break up. “You’re everything I ever wanted,” he whispered then and Kurt could easily see himself slipping into the fantasy that everything is perfect and there’s no loose ends. It was easy with Blaine. He was so charming and genuine, it was nearly second nature for him to cave beneath it.

They needed to talk about this.

“Blaine,” Kurt uttered finally, nudging Blaine away with a light press of his hand on Blaine’s chest. “Why did you do this?”

It’s not the words he meant to say, but they had already spilled out of his throat before he could even think about stopping them. Fine. He guessed his brain wasn’t going to be diplomatic about this.

Though, with the look of confusion that spread across Blaine’s features led him to somewhat regret speaking up. Blaine pulled away from Kurt, but kept his fingers nestled in Kurt’s hair. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why did you do this?” Kurt questioned, redirecting to the silver ring that wrapped around his finger.

This time, Blaine did let go of Kurt, his anxiety betraying him and fully replacing the happiness from earlier that evening. “Because I love you, Kurt. And it’s important to me that you know that,” Blaine said and it was so obscenely sincere that it tugged at Kurt’s heart. Then, Kurt watched as tension built inside Blaine as he spoke again. “Oh god, you’re not changing your mind, are you?”

“No, no, not at all!” Kurt reassured quickly. He took Blaine’s hand in both of his, holding them close to offer some sort of security and warmth. Blaine, Kurt has really begun to learn, is driven heavily by emotions. He needed to tread lightly. “This just all came very suddenly, that’s all. Blaine, I love you too, but if there’s something else going on, I need to know about it. No more secrets, right?”

It seemed like Kurt had said the right things, because Blaine nodded, and sag in his shoulders indicated that he was a bit more relaxed. He couldn’t really blame Blaine for being emotionally turbulent today; a lot has happened in the past few hours. “You’re right, no secrets,” he agreed and followed up with a soft sigh. Kurt held securely to his hand, silently encouraging Blaine to continue. After a brief moment of reticence, he spoke again. “I’m just so scared, Kurt. I messed this up once already, and I feel terrible everyday for it. I wanted to do this to show you that I’m really serious about us — about you. I never want to make you feel that way ever again. Cheating on you was by far the worst mistake of my life and I’ll regret it forever.”

Kurt listened quietly as Blaine poured his heart out. He had figured that it had something to do with their break up. It was too big of a roadblock to just ignore.

Keeping one hand holding Blaine’s, Kurt reached up with his other hand and played with one of the loose curls that had sprung free from Blaine’s hair gel at some point throughout the day. “I think you should start forgiving yourself.”

The look of confusion returned to Blaine’s face. “But I-”

“I know what you did,” Kurt interrupted before Blaine could self-deprecate further. “And I also know that you apologized no less than eight-hundred times since it happened. I won’t lie, Blaine, it broke my heart when you cheated. But you’ve said you’re sorry, and I do believe you. We wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t.”

The hand that was toying with Blaine’s hair slid down to instead cradle his cheek. Blaine’s eyes were glassy, but under that, there was undeniable love and devotion. Blaine loved him so much; it was impossible to not see it.

With as much intention as he could hope to portray, Kurt pressed a kiss to Blaine’s lips. It was a simple kiss; chaste in comparison to many of the others that they had shared throughout their relationship. But there were words written all over the kiss — words that Kurt didn’t feel were necessary to verbalize, and could only hope that Blaine could feel them like a brand to his skin.

The peaceful sigh that Blaine released against his mouth was all the confirmation that Kurt needed.

Kurt allowed the kiss to linger for a few moments longer before pulling away slowly. His eyes met wet, brown ones that shimmered in pure adoration. “I have long since forgiven you, Blaine. It’s time that you start forgiving yourself.”

[jogos-delulu-wife]

Hello! Small request. Since Jogo is, let's say, the shortest in the team (because he slouches), then what about reader who is the shortest? I mean, reader is probably 5'0.

Hehehe Let’s let Jogo stand at 5’5 but please 😭 Two shorties are cute till someone can’t reach the top shelf

Being Shorter then Jogo slightly fuels his pride, he can take care of some of the problems you can’t

Once you’ve established a relationship with him and he’s comfortable enough to display affection it’s cute 🥹

He has that cute little smile and half closed eye when he rests his head/chin on your head or shoulder, he’s content with just your existence

Your smaller hands in his. Remind him how delicate and fragile humans are, even more when you’re so physically small. It squeezed his heart the first time you came to him for help

He watched you struggle a bit to get something just out of reach just to pout and stare at the box of snacks just an inch away from your finger tips

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing when you feel his chest and watch him reach over you managing to grab the box with less strain. The butterflies in your tummy, the look of adoration you gave made his face heat up and he looked away nervously

Believe it or not, he enjoys physical affection, he doesn’t actively think about doing the do, he’s more entranced with the human body as in he loved to trail his hands over your body because of how frail you could be, how delicate your skin is. Siting back on the recliner and you sit between his legs, the recliner kicked back you lean your back against his chest,

more often then not his chin is on your shoulder watching whatever is on but his hands wonder your sides, running his fingers over your wrists and hands, feeling your fingers, he loves the plushness of your tummy and squeezing your sides. No matter weight, or size, if you’re self conscious, it menas nothing to him, he loves you as he met you,you don’t have to change your body that he loves so much

But! When Jogo is in a teasing mode he very much enjoys resting his hand on your head and calling you squirt or shrimp with a smirk and slanted gaze

You get mad and try to swing on him affectionately he puts his finger tips in your forehead holding you arm distance and you just whine until he lets you fall against him, the FIRST TIME HE REALIZES YOUR HEAD IS ON HIS CHEST HEARING HIS (he has to have a heart) CURSED HEART BEAT, LAVA HEARTS SHOOT out of our little Volcano husbands head 🥺

It flusters him how you just rest your head on his chest hugging his waist, he stares off thinking so many things his heart racing as he pats your back hoping you can’t hear his heart or feel the intense heat on his skin

Please don’t look up at him with your silly little love struck smile and those eyes he will blow a plug and shoot steam and lava out from experiencing such intense emotion🥹 (DO IT)

When you make him mad he stretch and move all your things to the top shelf, “Dan human, if you want something to be upset about I’ll give you something to be upset about”

Does it so you come to him to ask for help, the looks of disbelief when you use a chair or jump up in the counter is priceless especially if you turn to him and stick your tongue out

All of a sudden there are no chairs only ash 😭 how could you hurt him so deeply and not ask for him help

Hug him and kiss him anywhere and he’ll melt and forget everything, even the fact there are no chairs 💀

Defends you Against Mahito when he starts to pick at you saying he could fix you and add onto your stature, give you a whole new body if you’d like

He’s setting Mahito in fire before he can touch your frozen and unmoving body. He pushed you behind him snapping at Mahito and yelling at him for his incredulous actions

Never leaving your side while Mahito is near, assures you with a tsundere approach that he likes you the way you are and Mahito is incompetent and a fool

I can’t stress enough that He loves you dearly and loves that he can hold you against him and rest his head on your shoulder or his chin on the top of your head, the feeling of holding you close and how you fit so well against his chest 🥺 he’s a true short king and he loves his little short queen