#i am a very patient and considerate person

[hxnbi]

⸻ ❀°。wind breaker boys if you had braces

requested by anonymous: "I recently got my braces in and although I do not regret saving up the money to get it done. It really hurts lately. And I am very much bummed out that it hurts so much. I was wondering if you could write something related to it?"

pairings requested: suo, sakura, umemiya, togame, and choji x gn. reader

note: as someone who had braces before a few years back, ik that it can freaking SUCK so i hope it gets better for you <3

❀°。SAKURA HARUKA

At first, he really didn’t know what to do when you came back from your dentist appointment, only to look like you could audition for a role in a zombie movie. Sakura can hardly manage taking proper care of himself, so what would he know about taking care of other people? Does he even deserve to take care of you...? But he shakes off those thoughts, because, on the other side of the room, you were suffering, practically melting into the couch while your head was unseen from the large pillow on your face, squishing your face in hopes of dulling the pain. Which didn’t help much.

“Hey, uh, ahem… you need anything?” he asks awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

You murmur something short and nearly incoherent, and Sakura, determined to be helpful, tries to scour the kitchen for anything that might ease your pain. You wonder what he was doing, but you can find it in yourself to open your mouth, in pain, to say anything. He eventually brings you a cold compress and some soft, mashed potatoes, hoping it might help. Long story short, they don’t taste very good. He’s a little confused, but he's got the spirit. 

❀°。SUO HAYATO

The second Suo peers over at you and sees you lying on the couch, you are hardly recognizable—well, not literally, but you clearly do not look like yourself, and that worries him deeply. It hurts to see you like this, and his heart sinks seeing you in such discomfort.

“Y/n, you have to eat,” he says gently, holding a bowl of soft soup that he painstakingly prepared just for you.

“I know…” you mumble, shifting slightly while attempting to cover yourself and your metallic mouth with a blanket.

He sits beside you, patiently spooning small portions, coaxing you with the spoon moving closer to your mouth.

Suo tries his best, while not forcing you, to eat. After all, if you didn’t have food in your system, you would feel even worse, and he didn’t want that. He, above all, wished for your happiness.

❀°。UMEMIYA HAJIME

Umemiya attends to every need in the world. Husband material through and through, he becomes your personal nurse. He prepares all the homemade cold smoothies and soups in the world to smooth your pain, makes sure you take your pain medication on time, and even neglects his Furin duties just to spend it all with you to keep your mind off the ever-present pain from the metals in your mouth.

“You feelin' okay? Need anything else?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face and clasping your hand in his.

You can't help but smile weakly. You feel incredibly lucky to have someone like Umemiya. He makes sure your comfort is his top priority above all, attending to every small detail with the utmost care and affection. To him, nothing is more important than your happiness, and he’s more than willing to make it happen.

❀°。TOGAME JO

Granted, Togame doesn’t push you to talk much, always trying to be considerate about his own feelings. You don’t need to talk; he’ll be at your side at all times, making sure that you are properly cared for, and constantly attentive as your boyfriend. Togame tries to take your mind off the pain by doing little things that make you happy, like playing your favourite music or perhaps watching your favourite show on TV. Without a word, he sits next to you, gently holding your hand and caressing the insides of your palm.

Whenever you grimace from the pain, he squeezes your hand reassuringly and whispers softly that he’ll stay with you through it all.

❀°。TOMIYAMA CHOJI

“Huh, it hurts? Where?” Choji asks, looking genuinely puzzled with both his feet crossed in a rather childlike fashion.

You point to your mouth, muttering a few words, and he finally understands. Oh right! You did mention that you would be getting braces on today. His face immediately sinks, seeing your discomfort. Oh, you must be in pain...

And so, with that plaguing his mind the entire rest of the day, seeing you in pain with your braces, Choji decides to make food for you in hopes that it’ll make you feel better. After all, food solves everything! But when he finishes his so-called dish, a “nuclear disaster,” as Togame deadpanned, you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, maybe cooking isn’t my thing,” Choji admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “B-But it tastes better than it looks! I tried it!”

Despite his culinary skills—or lack thereof—his attempt to cheer you up works wonders in making you smile for the first time that day. And in the end, while coming home, he brings out something that is more fitting for you to consume—a pack of store-bought pudding instead from across the street, sitting beside you and sharing it. 

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[colourstreakgryffin]

HELLO! If you are taking requests can you do a Dazai Osamu! Reader with Alastor, Lucifer and Husk? Both romantic and platonic please. If you are uncomfy with it its perfectly fine!

Hehe! Okay. I actually haven’t gotten Lucifer or Husk yet and I like both of ‘em! I’ve written about this character before, Dazai Osamu but since it’s different, I’ll try it but i am sorry, I can’t manage over six over six-to-seven headcanons for the three boys in both platonic and romantic so just romantic it is! I hope that’s okay!

Alastor

Romantic

Alastor feels like he has to have you on a leash 24/7 and whilst it’s annoying, he wouldn’t mind being near you all the time. You’re a cunning and sophisticated person but you’re also quite suicidal and lazy at times so he has to have a eye on you all the time to ensure he won’t walk into you trying to make a joke, out of stabbing yourself

Alastor is quite protective. You’re a suicidal maniac and you even openly say to him you want to properly die with him, die with a handsome man and he is repulsed by this idea so he has to always cling you onto him to control your very bad habits and bad mannerisms. He will get you over them eventually, as your boyfriend, he cares about your health and he is thankful that you reciprocate

Alastor is glad when you’re more into your funny, caring state. When you’re more of an approachable and good person. Because then, it’s a golden opportunity to bond with you and not act as your damn suicide prevention police. He much prefers when you’re not fantasising and being picky about how you get erased then fail to complete these processes

Alastor’s quite impressed by your skills. You’re the strongest and youngest mafia leader back in your human life and your current sinner life so you have the passion you act you don’t and you’re more mature then you behave as. He is proud when he can watch you take charge and lead around the Hotel with your own knowledgeable being the main guide

Lucifer Morningstar

Romantic

Lucifer is a goofy sweetheart so you bet your ass that he is very good at keeping you passive and giggling, away from your dark mind. You’re always smiling and joking around with the King of Hell since he can handle you very well. He is as caring but he treats you like you’re made of glass. Something he won’t stop doing until your obsession over suicide dies out

Lucifer likes how mysterious you can be. You’re not entirely open, which he understands whilst being immensely open himself. He will just have to win your trust and your ability to express yourself over time as your new partner. You’re dark and enigmatic, if not the opposite of Lucifer and it’s a wonder why he likes you so much and he could write a book about why he likes you

Lucifer loves how committed and willing you are. You’ll do even the most shady things for him and he always feels both extreme pride and the extreme desire to scoop you up in his mighty six wings to kiss your face off. You’re so loyal and you do so much for him, it’s not a surprise that he sticks to you like he’s glued onto your hip

Lucifer is actually quite protective to you. He doesn’t want you touching even the smallest weapon, even if you’re an adult as well but because of your mental issues and how suicide trigger-happy you are. At least, you do have a good sense of humour and have a fun-loving side through how much you tease people, it’s adorable! Lucifer does like them, it, for some reason, soothes him hearing you play around more genuinely

Husk

Romantic

Husk is a grumpy, quiet but yet patient and considerate man. He may be older but he is still caring and makes a wonderful partner. Especially for this carefree and relaxed soul, one who expresses their suicidal tendencies quite a lot. Husk knows about your suicidal desires and for that, he has such a sharp’s tiger eye on you

Husk(in reality, of these three boys) is the most healthy to date. He is gruff and emotionless on the outside but compassionate and gentle on the inside, he is a Tsundere at best and he doesn’t mind being stern with you when you’re falling down a rabbit hole or trying to harm yourself like it’s some comedy show. You’re life is beautiful and you need to see that

Husk relates to you a lot, on deep levels. You’re both lonely, you’re both lazy, you’re both basically done with everything but you have each other, you both hide your real selves and your genuine personality under a armour of behaviours, so Husk acts as the proper one for you two. He tries to encourage you to join him whenever-wherever and to try put your wits and intellect to good use. He’d feel so proud of you if you did

Husk always sticks around you. He never leaves you alone, he doesn’t want you hurt so he takes you to bed with him, he cuddles you to his side whenever you’re both walking, he even comes into the bathroom with you. He does it for many reasons, mainly because he feels so comfortable with you

[pillarsalt]

hi! i was wondering your opinions on how hrt affects the body? i hold a lot of radfem beliefs but i am trans (taking testosterone). would being a woman to you have to be completely about chromosomes? for example, trans men years on T do not have the same genetic makeup as cis women. same with trans women on E, their genetic makeup would be very different to cis men, and would more correlate to cis women. does this factor in who you consider female/male or having experience as women?

Hi there, thanks for reaching out.

Firstly, I think you may be a bit confused. Taking exogenous hormones does not affect your genetic makeup. Your dna will stay the same unless you're exposed to something extreme like radiation - this is a good thing because dna mutation is bad for you and causes cancer! Your genetic sex is immutable, a person with XY chromosomes cannot have their dna altered to have XX chromosomes instead.

Hormones will affect the expression of your genes, for example turning on facial hair production in women who are taking testosterone. This is why those patterns of facial hair, even in women, differ from person to person. The genes for it were already there, but hormone replacement therapy uses the endocrine system to change what signals get sent to your genes to tell them what features to express.

Beyond chemically induced genetic expression, there are particular physical features in males that do not occur in males, and vice versa. This is a feature of the /ancient/ evolution of sexual reproduction. Despite the variety of metaphysical beliefs about identity and personhood, the truth is that humans evolved to reproduce between two sexes, and human beings cannot change sex. Every cell of your body has your sex encoded within it. This affects us physically in many ways. I and most feminists believe that this fact should be irrelevant to any person's ability to pursue their passion, be themselves, and love who they love. Even so, recognition of biological sex is something important. This is really critical in a medical context. For example: men who receive a blood transfusion from a pregnant or recently pregnant woman have an increased risk of death by transfusion-related lung injury. Another example: tracheostomy tubes differ in size depending on sex due to dimorphism in average tracheal diameter. A women who is reported as a male risks considerable injury by having a male sized tracheostomy tube forced into her windpipe. A considerable amount of medications differ in dose effectiveness and side effects based on biological sex. Something as straightforward as a heart attack has different symptoms depending on if the patient is female or male. Denial of biological sex is dangerous, and as it stands, medical science has not advanced enough to change the biological sex of an individual. If you are born male, you will stay male for your entire life. You say that a transwoman who has taken estrogen is more genetically similar to a woman, I'm sorry but that simply isn't true. A male person will always be more genetically similar to other males than to a female person.

Determination of sex is very simple, it's about the easiest genetic test to do. They have kits for high school classrooms to try out ffs. We need to leave the "meaningful sex change is possible through medical intervention" thing in the past, all we accomplish with that is giving people false hope and an unattainable goal to fixate on. Sex is real and immutable, I wish it didn't matter, but it does.

And why it matters is, maleness and femaleness have become inseparable from certain stereotypes and assigned qualities by societies in human history. Overwhelmingly, the male people subjugate the female people. Since men, male humans, discovered womens' ability to give birth could be taken advantage of, it was capitalized upon. And this is the foundation of patriarchal society. Religions were founded to justify this as the will of god. To deny that women have historically been persecuted due to their sex is, well, misogynistic. There is no "woman feeling" that makes us targets for child marriages, FGM, trafficking/prostitution, and other horrors from the minute we're born and even before. No, it's the sex we were born with that makes the world think it can decide our fate. In fact, the way that people treat male children differently from female children is so different so early, that we are genuinely unable to study human behaviour unaffected by gendered expectations. This is what feminists are talking about when they discuss "socialization". There is not a single man on the planet who knows exactly what it's like to see the world from a woman's eyes, no matter how feminine that man is. Womanhood isn't something you can achieve or acquire through effort: you were either born a woman or you weren't, just like you were either born with detached earlobes or not. It's so simple.

All that to get to my final point: Yes, I believe the definition of womanhood comes down to biology, because anything beyond that is a meaningless stereotype. Women can do anything, be anyone, look any way they want, go through any experience they do. The one thing they have in common is that they are female adult human beings. There is not way to fail at being a woman or do it wrong, you just are. Womanhood is the experience of having been a female person in this world, and nothing else. There are certain things only female human beings need, like abortion and female contraceptive rights, access to spaces where we can be safe from our subjugators (male human beings), and the ability to define ourselves and fight for our collective rights.

(At this point you may object and point out that male people who identify as trans women are also subject to violence and scorn from men: unfortunately that is often the case, but this does not make male people who identify as women, well, female. We need solutions for them that do not involve requiring women to sacrifice our comfort and safety for the sake of a particular subset of men, because of the inherent risks involved and the fact that women do not owe men anything even when those men have it bad.)

One last thing: my opinion is that prescribing exogenous cross-sex hormones is unethical (so are all elective cosmetic medical procedures but that's a post for a different day). I understand the distress that gender dysphoria inflicts on people, however the ill effects of hrt are too numerous to condone. The huge increase in risk of stroke with estrogen, heart disease and uterine atrophy with testosterone, and the way that trans medicine studies are notorious for losing followup with patients after a year or less... it's short sighted and frankly, financially motivated. The amount of trans patients who are prescribed hormones without access to an endocrinologist, it's honestly infuriating. People deserve the best care possible, not lab rat bullshit where they cut you loose when it's not working out. I won't judge anyone for what they do to themselves to cope with distress, but I want everyone, especially girls, to be aware of the lifetime effects medical decisions may have, and that you also can find happiness within yourself without hurting your body.

Thanks again for your question, be well ✌���

[kiame-sama]

Sin Eater- (Yandere!Zestial)

Warnings; more of a slow burn, purely platonic yandere for now, can't decide if I would prefer platonic or romantic yandere Zestial at the moment, unnamed overlord death, prior to the events of Hazbin, mention of blood, blackouts and slight missing memories, gender neutral reader, vague cannibalism,

~~~~~~~~

"Where... Am I?"

Your question was met with silence as you looked around the room at the various surprised figures. Only moments ago you had been standing up at the Heavenly gates with who you assumed to be St. Peter searching for your name. He had found it but when the gates opened, a man wearing a mask with devil horns stopped the two of you. The man didn't say much before he smiled and said you belonged in Heaven but had work to do in Hell. After that there was a flash of bright light before you found yourself where you currently stood.

Outside the sky was red and those standing before you were dressed rather differently from the angelic being you spoke to prior. The colors of the room almost seemed to be steeped in sepia coloration like an old film movie. Those around the long rectangular table seemed surprised and confused by your presence just as you were confused by theirs.

"Great, who's this then? Some cheeky bitch intruding in an overlord meeting."

One of the people sitting at the table stood, their features making them look like some kind of cross between an alligator and a chicken. Their three eyes were focused on you and seemed to be smouldering in their sockets as they approached. You didn't know how to respond as the being loomed over you, hand drawn back as if they intended to slap you.

What felt like seconds later you were suddenly on the other side of the room, warm sticky red blood covered your arms and chest while it dripped from your hands. The sudden change startled you as you tried to wipe away the blood with very little success, becoming panicked and almost frantic. Not only were you confused and lost, you were soaked in blood and somewhere completely new to you.

It was during your panicked attempt at wiping away the blood on you that a slender spider-like hand rest on your shoulder. The weight of the hand drew your attention to the person attached to that hand.

They were an unusual looking being with neon green-yellow eyes set in a dark gray face. Their body was obscured by a long cloak that covered them and came up in a collar that held the design of spider webs. A spider sat located above their collarbone as if it were a bowtie that held the cloak closed on the figure.

"Calm thyself, child. One ought not panic so easily, especially when one finds thyself in Hell. Breathe a moment, for the danger has passed."

Their voice was a soothing rumble that held a faint echo to it, their relaxed demeanor calming you considerably despite your uncertain surroundings. When they saw you had followed their instructions and took a deep breath, a rather patient smile played across their lips.

"Worry not, child. No harm shall befall thee here."

You almost returned the smile before a voice interjected, startling you slightly.

"They won't be harmed, sure, but what about us? They just ate one of the other overlords!"

"Calm thyself, Carmilla. Approach not with violence but an open hand and there will be no trouble. It seems Heaven has set a Sin Eater in our midst once more. A lost lamb ought not stray from thine flock, lest they be consumed by the wolves that doth circle amongst the sheep."

The humanoid circled you slightly, keenly observing you as you watched with unguarded curiosity. You had never seen someone like them before, but despite their appearance you felt calm and almost protected by the unusual being. It was when they stopped and gained an almost pleased smile that you felt the hair on the back of your neck standing ever so slightly.

"Prithee, speak thy name, Child, that I may address thee proper."

"(Y/n) (L/n). What's your name?"

"Zestial. Though many oft remark me to be the oldest overlord in Hell. Tell me, (Y/n), wouldst thou wish to be cast into the populace of Hell, or wouldst thou prefer to be guided through by a more experienced hand?"

"I... Wait, we're in.. Hell? Then that means I'm..."

"Verily, young (Y/n). Life has departed thee and left thee to walk amongst the fallen. As thou may suspect, the populace of Hell will not react kindly to thy presence. Sin Eaters are monsters in Hell and oft are hunted the rare times their presence becomes known. But no more of that, there is still the question at hand. What is thy answer?"

"I... I just want to know what's going on. I don't want to be hunted for something I didn't even choose. Will you help me?"

"Yes, dear confused (y/n). It is within mine own ability to guide and protect thee from the many untrusting eyes in Hell."

It was then the feminine one Zestial addressed as Carmilla spoke up, her brows raised and tone incredulous. Those sitting at the table seemed surprised as well with the current way the conversation was headed. None other than Carmilla seemed brave enough to speak out their concerns on the matter.

"Zestial, I know you are one to keep your plans to yourself, but are you really going to make a deal with that thing?"

"Carmilla, though thy intent is to protect and perhaps defend from the unknown, never forget that none had guessed mine own intentions at first glance. This is to be a deal struck between the Sin Eater and I, it needs no outside interjection."

"I- understood, Zestial."

The spider being turned back to you, their enigmatic smile still present on their face as they spoke in that same even tone.

"Now, (y/n), what say thee? It must be known I shan't do this without proper reparations. Thine soul shall become mine for the taking, but there shall be none who can try to touch thee without repercussions. More importantly, Hell need not control thy heart with fear as I shall walk by thee and shelter thee from the hostile intent of others. Does that sound amenable?"

"You want my soul and in return you're going to stop others from hurting me?"

"Among other things, but yes."

"Okay. I think that's fair."

A contract appeared out of what seemed to be nothing, floating before you. Next to it was a pink and green-yellow feather much like the one that adorned Zestial's hat. With nothing to lose you grabbed the feather quill and signed your name on the dotted line, agreeing to the mysterious being's offer. The second you finished writing your name, a certain weight seemed to now be placed on your shoulders as if the air around you had changed.

"Verily, a wise choice, dear (y/n). Wise indeed."

[notiddygothgf]

10. Early Breakfast

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I didn't know Hayakawa Captain had a girlfriend. ❞

★ c.w.: smut. more (poorly timed) confessions. denji is his own warning. (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: Hi again pookie dooks ;)). Okay so. I have been waiting SO LONG to post this chapter. We're nearing the end of the ones I had pre-written, and as a result updates may come a little slower, but I'll try to keep up! (Just be patient w me, ur girl is #struggling rn w uni). You're gonna love this chapter (until you dont). not saying nothing though. ENJOY LOVELIES! muah! please leave many many comments (spam me idgaf) i need smth to look forward to reading and i ALWAYS go thru yall's comments w the dorkiest smile. ily. (no beta, we die like... yeah.)

★ w.c: .7.5k

shameless ; chapter index

AKI'S BED WAS WARM. Warm enough that you seemed to be able to forget where you were — or, rather, where you should have been. You had entire hotel suite waiting for you, yet it seemed as if you had wasted the first five days of your stay in Tokyo entangled with him. Two days had passed between your bathroom debacle and now, and you were back again right where it all had started.

You weren't entirely sure you minded it.

Aki wrapped his long, calloused fingers around your wrist, holding your bloody finger away from his face. You had cut your thumb open on the page of a magazine while the two of you were relaxing on his mattress — distantly, a song from a band you didn't know played on his CD player (The tonedeafs, or something like that).

"I want you to," You laughed, reaching your hand towards his face again. "I dared you to. I'm not a germaphobe, I don't care."

Aki furrowed his brows, holding your wrist away from his face once more, "You should care. It could get infected, or worse."

Always so serious.

You pouted, "Says who?"

"Me, everyone," Aki trailed off — playfully, of course, like he was lost in thought, "Any medical professional."

You laughed, flopping back onto the bed where you had been moments earlier before this had started, laying perpendicular to him with your back strewn over his stomach. Makima had given him the day off and you, not knowing what else could have been a better way to help him learn how to relax a little, decided to call out of work as well. 

"Pussy," You teased him, "What kind of Devil Hunter gets squeamish around blood?"

"I'm not squeamish, I'm just taking your health into consideration," He remarked (again, with a playful lilt to his words, despite his serious tone). "And, besides — what if someone overheard this? You calling your superior a pussy, hm? Then what?"

You replied with a witty retort of your own, "And what if they knew their Captain was fucking his subordinates?"

"I think I could get away with one," He teased back. "Not subordinates, plural. Just a subordinate. A married one, at that."

"So there are other subordinates?" You asked him — it was meant to be teasing, but you would be lying if a depraved part of you didn't wonder if you were the only one he was seeing. You wouldn't have a right to be upset if you weren't, granted that you were still very much married to another man.

"No. But that doesn't make you any less of a cougar," He hummed. "Devil Hunters do worse shit than sleeping with their coworkers, I hate to tell you."

"I'm only five years older than you," You huffed. Rolling over to look at him, you added, "We're damned anyway, then. That's what you're saying?"

"Not damned," He replied. Finally setting the book he'd been reading down on the bed beside him, he said, "Blessed. At least, I am."

"You're blessed?" You asked. "I'm a trainwreck, Aki."

"You're my trainwreck, though, aren't you?" He reached down, ruffling your hair with his hand. "I'm blessed because you're the first person to come into my life and give me a reason to keep myself alive."

"I thought you said you wanted to kill the Gun Devil?" You teased.

"I do," He said. "I didn't care if I lived or died before. Now that I have you waiting around for me to come back, I wanna keep coming home."

The slightest frown tugged at the corners of your lips, "That's so sad. You don't have any family?"

"No," He caressed your cheek with the back of his thumb, "The Gun Devil killed them. That's why I said I didn't care if I lived or died. As long as I did it for them, I thought I'd be able to die happy."

"You still feel that way?" You asked.

"Not really. I think I'm starting to have a change of heart," He sighed — chest rising and falling as he did so, "I'm growing fond of my roommates. Between those two shitheads and you, I dunno," A pause, and then he continued, "I'm not so sure I'd be able to die happy knowing I left all of that behind."

It was a touching sentiment. You probably should have left it at that, but a part of you couldn't help but dwell on it. You were — at least a part of — his reason to live. You were what kept him alive, what kept him motivated.

That didn't sound like he "might have feelings" for you.

It sounded like he loved you.

And, to make matters worse, you were beginning to realize that you returned his affections. The craving him, the missing him — the worrying about his wellbeing, the need to constantly be around him... All signs pointed towards one direction:

You loved him, too.

And, before you could stop yourself, before you could tell yourself it was too soon, you found yourself uttering the phrase, "Do you love me, Aki?"

He paused. A moment passed, and he took a deep breath. Then, he peered down at you, "Yeah. I do. I think I'm starting to love those two Devils, too — or at least care for them, but..." He licked his lips. "Not in the way that I love you."

Your heart nearly stopped beating entirely — skipping a beat, and then another while a horde of angry butterflies filled your chest.

Not in the way that I love you.

The way that I love you.

I love you.

He loves me. You couldn't remember the last time you heard those words.

You hadn't taken notice of the silence — or how long it was, for that matter — until Aki spoke again, the depth of his voice vibrating beneath your body, setting your nerves alight.

"You don't... have to say it back," He added, a little more sheepishly. He was so patient with you, so forgiving — it was all so much more than you deserved. "But, yeah, I love you."

You finally spoke up — voice a little weaker than you had intended it to sound. "I.. love you, too. I know I do."

It felt right to confess. You couldn't keep lying to him — to him or yourself.

"Do you want to stop seeing me?" He asked. He sounded like he did not want you to say yes (or maybe you were projecting). "I know it's too soon. I don't want to ruin your life."

You scoffed, "Ruin my life? I'm like a starving beggar who's been given food. You're the best thing that's happened to my life in god-knows-how-long."

He blinked at you. "I don't..."

"It makes no difference," You added on, "I love you and you love me. So, what? Are we supposed to break each other's hearts? Over a man I haven't loved in years? A man with whom I've only stayed for the sake of convenience?"

Aki sighed quietly, calling your name, but you didn't listen.

"I'm tired of running away from the truth, Aki. You were the one who showed me that," You continued. "I love you, and I think I'd be completely miserable if I lived without you."

"But you'd be at peace. You'd have a house and a life in Kyoto, still," He remarked. 

"You've consumed every inch of my peace. How can I give you your peace?" You quoted him. "Is that not what you told me? You don't want to stop seeing me, do you?"

"No, I don't," He said. "I'd be depressed beyond reprieve, but I'd do it if it meant you could be happy."

Finally, you rolled over, folding your arms over his chest, laying your head down over his heart — peering up at him through a fond gaze, "I'm happy with you, Aki. I don't want anything else."

There was an issue — of course. The issue being the dissolution of your marriage with your husband. But, still, the two of you danced around the truth.

"You shouldn't say things like that to me," He added quietly, "I'll hide you away in here forever."

You laughed softly, quietly, like you couldn't help but yearn for exactly that. "And, what? I should leave everything behind to stay here with you?"

To your surprise, however, he did not seem to be joking – not in the least. "Yeah," He deadpanned, "Would that be so bad?"

You sighed deeply, your fingers absently toying with the soft, rumpled covers of Aki's bed. The room had been bathed in a warm, golden light from the bedside lamp. The weight of contemplating a divorce hung heavily on you—images of an uncertain future and financial instability looming large in your mind.

"I'd have nothing if we divorced. I think that's the main reason I haven't done it by now. We never signed a prenup, so..." Your voice trailed off, the enormity of it all pressing down on you. "I'd be in shambles."

Aki shifted next to you, his gaze softening as he absorbed your words. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm in a gesture meant to soothe. "But you could start over. We could start over. You're miserable with him. You know that, right?"

"You're too young to understand," You sighed.

"All that for a five year age gap is kind of crazy," He retorted. "Help me understand, then – why won't you put yourself first, for once?"

You looked away, your eyes reflecting the anxiety you felt. "I would lose the house, Aki... and everything I've worked for... it's not just about me."

"The apartment down the hall is up for lease, I've heard. It's not exactly the same as your house, but it could be a start," Aki tilted his head slightly, trying to offer a comforting smile. "We could make it work."

You considered his words – the idea of a new beginning didn't sound all too bad. Slowly, a tentative smile started to spread across your face. You met Aki's gaze, and he returned your smile with one that was gentle and understanding – like he always was. 

Finally, you shifted your position, rolling over to straddle Aki's waist, sitting in his lap. You reached down, gently plucking the magazine from his hands, and intertwined your fingers with his. 

"You love me," You said giddily, grinning ear to ear like a lovestruck fool.

God, now that you heard him say it, you wanted to hear it again.

Just to make sure that it was real.

And he looked up at you through tired, pretty blue eyes, like you had hung the stars in the sky yourself. Like you were everything to him. "Yes."

"Only me," You continued.

To which he answered breathlessly, "Yes."

"And you're happy with me?" You went on, "You're not just saying that to get my hopes up?"

"Yes," He answered. "Happier than I've ever been."

You knew it was dangerous to indulge yourself so shamelessly in his affections. He loved you and you loved him – there was only one thing holding you back from being his and his entirely...Your marriage of convenience.

"And you," He asked. "Do you love me? Only me?" 

"Of course," You answered. It should have been more difficult of an admission than it was. In reality, you hadn't loved anyone in years. "I haven't been able to fuck anyone else since you came around. That's how much I love you."

"You're not special," He tutted. "I can't even get off unless I'm thinking about you and that pretty face of yours. You know that?"

"I get that. I know you love me," You smiled. "But how much?"

Aki's hands slid up your legs, gripping your thighs. Slowly, he aided you in rocking back, then forth – until you took notice of the sudden hardness pressing into your core from below. He quirked a brow, "This much."

You widened your eyes, dragging your tongue over the front of your teeth. If that's the case, then that's a lot. You played into it, of course. You pulled the hem of his oversized sweater up and over your hips so that you could rut against him. The lace of your panties created a friction so delicious that your next words came out as a shudder, "This much?"

His lashes fluttered, pretty eyes threatening to shut – but he kept them open, like he wanted to commit every second of this moment to memory. "Yes."

You rubbed yourself along the length of the bulge in his sweatpants slowly, tantalizingly – "This much?"

He released the prettiest little trembling sigh, "Yes..."

"This much?" You leaned down a little further. Your hands braced themselves on his chest, sliding down to his abs, then back up again – all while you lowered yourself a little closer to his face, rutted against him a little harder, just the way he liked it. 

"Yes," He whimpered faintly, weakly. When you brought your face a little lower, a little closer to his, you could see the faint hue of pink that painted his cheeks.

Unable to wait a moment longer, you touched your noses together, lips only inches apart.

"This much?" You breathed. Going a little faster now – all but riding the tent in his sweats – you felt your legs begin to tremble. "And this much? And this much?"

"Ah..." He panted, "Yes, yes, yes."

His eyes struggled to meet yours – you liked the sense of control it gave you. It made your mind run wild with desire, knowing he trusted you enough to let you have him like this. To let you take the reins. Just before your lips touched, you brought your bloody thumb up to his mouth. 

Then, carefully, you painted the faintest trace of red on his lower lip. He froze – holding his breath, anticipating your next move.

You traced your tongue carefully over his lower lip, kissing his lips clean – licking up what was left. It was depraved and dirty and downright distasteful... but, fuck...

It was so hot.

Clearly, Aki shared your sentiment, because before you could pull away he was gripping the back of your neck and bringing you closer to him, slipping his tongue into your mouth while it was still open – stealing a dirty kiss from you. His lips were insistent against yours, desperate, even – tasting like mint with the faintest hint of blood.

With a blissful groan, he departed from your lips, kissing his way down your neck while he rocked your hips back and forth. The friction was just enough to have you moaning in tandem, falling into him.

His tongue was hot against your skin, pulling it into his mouth to suck gently on it – gentle enough that he wouldn't leave marks, hard enough that you were gripping his biceps for support. 

You craned your head up toward the ceiling to give him more room to continue his onslaught down the valley of your neck, down your clavicle. 

You brought your hands down to the waistband of Aki's sweatpants, where he was practically straining against the fabric. "Need you, Aki, please."

He let you wrangle his pants down just far enough to free him (no, he hadn't bothered to put on a pair of boxers after his shower) – just far enough to let his aching erection spring out. His fingers looped beneath the fabric of your panties with practiced ease, and he pushed them to the side.

"Right now?" He asked. "Like this?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck. Need you, too, baby."

You wasted absolutely no time in lining his tip up with your entrance and sinking down on him. With little to no prep involved prior, it was a bit of a stretch – you could feel his length splitting you open, but, shit...

It felt so fucking good to have him inside of you. You fell forward onto him, letting him set the pace.

He let out the sexiest little gasp, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"You won't get tired of me?" You asked, rising up and then sinking back down after a moment of adjustment. Up once more, then down once more, and you could feel the pain subsiding. "Of... of this?"

"Never," He gritted out, gripping your hips a little harder. He bounced you up and down a little faster, a little harder – and that little change in speed was all it took to have the both of you gasping. He moaned, "So perfect. Fuckin' love it."

You giggled, "So this is love?" 

Trailing off, you gasped, a smile forming on your tender lips. It wasn't the years you had spent with your husband, arguing over money and food and everything else. It wasn't distasteful comments about your body, or a harsh sting on your cheek followed by a half-assed apology. It wasn't a broken promise of "I do," or a life in Kyoto. It was this.

Aki's response came in the form of a muffled whine of, "Yes," against your sensitive neck.

"This..." You grinned. 

This was love. 

You could get used to it.

You rustled from your sleep late in the evening. Nose twitching, you nuzzled your face into the warm surface your head was laid upon – warm, bare skin beneath you. Aki's chest was a milky white valley – between the pectorals of which you pressed a lazy kiss. He stirred, only slightly, and didn't wake.

A grumble of your stomach prompted you to sigh before slipping out of his grasp, out of the fortress his strong arms made around your head. His biceps were so plump that you almost wished you could sink your teeth into them, mark him as yours.

But, alas, duty calls. 

You slid out of the bed slowly, being careful not to wake your lover in the process. His sweater slipped down your waist, pooled around your thighs, and your bare feet touched the floor of his bedroom as you padded towards the door. 

You cast one last glance to the bed before you left. Aki was sound asleep, face turned to the side, inky black hair tousled and spread over the pillow. His pink lips were open just enough for quiet snores to escape. As if he sensed your absence, he grumbled something incoherent in his sleep, and rolled over onto his side. He wrapped an arm around the pillow – where you had been lying only a moment earlier – and snuggled into it. 

God, he was so fucking cute – he was going to be the death of you.

A smile teased the corners of your lips. With no great deal of satisfaction, you cracked the door open – checking your surroundings before slipping into the living room. You tip-toed over the wooden floorboards (as if that would make a difference) and into the kitchen, pawing at the fridge until it opened.

You squinted into the refrigerator light, trying to scan its contents for a good snack. Let's see... Lettuce, Leftovers, Vegetables...

Berries! You grinned, reaching for the little package of strawberries. It looked like it was pretty new – surely he wouldn't notice a few missing... right? 

If he did, he certainly didn't seem like he would care.

So you shut the fridge just as quietly as you had opened it. You nearly lept right out of your skin when you noticed something standing behind the door – someone.

It was the ginger boy from the party – Denji – and he was looking at you like he was just as confused as you were, standing only a little taller than you in Cookie Monster pajama pants and an old-looking undershirt.

What time is it? His roommates were supposed to be at training today!

He raked his eyes over your appearance, following the path of your bare legs up to your sweater, then up to your face again. Finally, he commented, "I didn't know Hayakawa Captain had a girlfriend."

You were fucking mortified. So much for being on the down low, right? 

Swallowing, you replied, "I'm not–"

"Wait a sec, aren't you that girl from the party?" He squinted at you. 

Shit. Shit. Double Shit.

"Uh..." You laughed awkwardly, toying with the hem of Aki's sweater. You knew you probably made for a remarkable sight – messy hair, bare feet, wearing nothing but his Captain (and roommate's) sweater. "What party?"

Public Safety loved to party. He wouldn't remember you from one night alone, would he?

"The one where Himeno got shitfaced? Wait, I don't think that narrows it down by much..." He pursed his lips, tapping his chin in thought while he scrutinized you, "It had to have been, like, a month ago, now. She started crying and then she got real wasted and puked on my shoes... She said she was real pissed at Hayakawa and his little girlfriend. That's you, right?"

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. You didn't know what was more mortifying – the idea that he knew you were sleeping with his captain, or the idea that Himeno was telling him about you. 

If your flustered appearance didn't give it away (or the way you froze like a deer in headlights when he said that), your words definitely did. "I have no clue what you're talking about."

That sounds like something someone would say if they most definitely did know what someone was talking about, you thought.

What the hell was he doing out here this late, anyway? It wasn't fair.

"Youuu... sure...?" He asked, squinting at you a little harder. You were one question away from breaking a sweat, "'Cause he's been acting real fishy lately, and I heard noises coming from his room when I came back a few hours ago."

You were going to murder him and yourself a moment later. He said they wouldn't come home.

"I thought you were supposed to be at training?" You whisper-shouted back at him. "What noises could you possibly have heard?"

"We wrapped up early," He remarked, like that should have been obvious. "And, I dunno, but it sounded like someone was being murdered in there. Himeno said he had a "little girlfriend", and I don't see him around many women, so..." Snapping his fingers, he pointed them at you, "You're her. You're his secret girlfriend, right? I've been working on my detective skills, you know. I can tell these things about people."

You could do nothing but gape at him, utterly gobsmacked at two different things – Firstly, that this interaction was even happening, and, secondly, that he had managed to sniff you out so easily.

"Unless you're not," He trailed off – seemingly lost in thought, again, as he gazed up at the ceiling, scratching his chin, "You know, I heard him in the bathroom with someone the other day. Is that something you're aware of? I don't want to assume, but I figured you should know. He could be cheating on you."

Again, you couldn't form a suitable answer, mouth open. Still – because you were hungry – you plucked a strawberry from the container, inching your hand slowly towards your mouth. 

"What are you doing?" A voice cut into the tense silence between you and the orange-haired boy – who, from your understanding, was no older than 16. The two of you jumped apart. 

Aki stood in the hallway, eyeing you and Denji up wearily. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed – literally – with his hair still a little disheveled over his neck and in his face, donning nothing but a pair of sweatpants to match the shirt you were wearing. 

We're cooked, you thought. 

Then, immediately letting your gaze wander over his chiseled physique, you thought, He looks so fucking good without a shirt on.

The sound of his voice shook you from your horny reverie. He had called your name, or something like that, considering that he was looking right at you.

You tilted your head, popping the strawberry into your mouth, "Hmm?"

Aki's lips were pressed into that serious pout he always seemed to wear around his coworkers – something so different from how he normally was around you, something that you had to get used to, "I asked if he was bothering you."

"Oh." You swallowed the mouthful of strawberry you were chewing. Glancing between him and his ginger detective roommate, you muttered, "No.. No, he's just– He was just getting a snack."

His expression softened immediately. Still, he leaned against the kitchen counter, saying, "Come back to bed."

Well, shit, there goes my alibi, You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. He made it sound so tempting.

So, opening the refrigerator door and tucking the container of strawberries away on the shelf, you squeezed past Denji, murmuring a quick, "Good night." 

Then you followed Aki back to his room, leaving the poor boy speechless in the kitchen.

The next morning, Aki was already up when you stirred, the soft sound of bowls clinking and the rhythmic whisking of something filling the quiet morning ambience. The smell of something sweet drifte d in from the kitchen, pulling you out of bed. 

Snagging your purse off of the floor, you slipped into the bathroom, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Without thinking, you reached for Aki's blue toothbrush again—the one you'd claimed yesterday, and the time before that. There was something oddly comforting about using his things.

There was also something sort of ironic about the way you hesitated before using it — like you hadn't swallowed a load of his kids before, like this was overstepping.

As you brushed your teeth, your thoughts floated back to last night—the weight of his arms around you, the way his hands had roamed your body like they belonged there. Your confession had been a surprise. His confession had been hushed whispers of, "I love you. So perfect. All for me," against your skin, a sinful croon of your name while he fell apart beneath your touch.

You winced slightly at the ache in your lower back, a reminder of how tangled the two of you had been in the sheets. That ache was a small price to pay.

Spitting into the sink, you wiped your face and took a handful of water into your mouth. Then, reaching into your purse, you produced your little Birth Control tin, popping one of the tiny white pills into your mouth.

You wandered back out into the living room a minute or two later, drawn by the smell of what you assumed was breakfast. Aki was standing at the kitchen counter, his back to you, shoulders relaxed beneath one of his signature sweaters— one that, despite how soft and oversized it looked, did nothing to hide his lean form, the muscled slopes of his shoulders. You watched him for a moment, admiring the way he moved so easily in his space, the domesticity of it all.

You walked up behind him without a word, slipping your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against the hard plane of his back. Your hands trailed lazily over his abdomen, feeling the firm lines of his muscles through the fabric of his sweater. You couldn't help but smile to yourself; he was so deceptively toned beneath all those layers, the kind of strength that made you second-guess not divorcing your husband sooner.

"Hey, troublemaker," he said softly, his voice warm and teasing, like he knew you were up to something just by the way you touched him. He didn't even flinch at your sudden embrace, just leaned into you as if he had been expecting you.

You buried your nose between his shoulder blades, breathing him in. That familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of pancake batter—it was such a simple combination, but it made your heart ache in the best way. His hair was tied up in that silly little topknot again, and on anyone else it would have looked completely ridiculous. He smelled like everything good and familiar, like something you didn't even realize you needed.

He set the bowl of pancake batter down and turned slightly, his hand finding your chin, gently tilting your face up to meet his. His lips captured yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to show you exactly how much he wanted you. The kiss was languid, sensual,  made your knees a little weak and left you dizzy in the best way. You could taste the sweetness of his affection, the way he held you like you were something precious.

In that moment, it hit you—you really were in love. 

You didn't need to second-guess it. This wasn't like anything you had before. The ease, the quiet bliss of being here with him, in this little bubble you'd both created—it was something you had never known with your husband. 

That marriage had been full of noise and expectations, but this... this was peace. 

This was love.

And standing there, with Aki's arms around you and the smell of pancakes in the air, you knew you didn't want to let this feeling go.

"Hi. You sleep okay?" you asked, slipping your hands under the hem of his sweater, your fingers pressing against the warmth of his muscular back. You felt the subtle shift of his body under your touch, the way his breath caught for just a second.

"Better than okay," he replied, his voice still rough from sleep. "I don't even remember dreaming."

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "Aww... did I put you to sleep?" The words came out soft, playful, with a teasing edge that hung in the air.

He chuckled, a deep, velvety sound that sent a ripple through your body. "That's rich coming from the one who came so hard she passed out last night."

Your cheeks flushed instantly, the memory making heat rise in your face as you buried it against his chest, the familiar scent of him filling your senses. His sweater smelled like him—warm, clean, and just a little bit of that cologne you couldn't get enough of.

After a moment, you tilted your head, peeking up at him through your lashes. Your hands moved beneath his sweater again, this time slowly exploring the firm ridges of his abs. He was a Greek god, he really was.

You could feel him tense, the muscles under your touch shifting with every slight movement of your fingers as they trailed down his abdomen, brushing lightly with your knuckles. You hummed, the sound vibrating softly in your throat. "Hmm... should I make it up to you?"

Aki's eyes dropped to yours, and you saw the change immediately—his face grew warm, the faintest hint of pink rising on his cheeks as his pupils widened. "Make what up to me?" he asked, his voice lower now, like he wasn't sure if he wanted the answer or if he was bracing for it.

Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, the fabric snapping back against his skin with a soft, sharp sound. He let out a quiet grunt in response, and the sound sent a surge of satisfaction through you.

"You're a little minx today, aren't you?" he teased, though his voice was laced with something deeper, his smirk betraying just how affected he was.

You just smiled up at him, your fingers lingering at the waistband, daring him to see where the moment would take you next.

"What can I say? I'm an early riser," you teased, your finger trailing downward over his sweatpants, over the tent that was beginning to form where your fingers ghosted over them. The way his breath hitched, followed by a flustered laugh, made you grin.

You tugged at the strings of his sweatpants, mischief dancing in your eyes. "And I think someone else is too."

Aki's gaze darted between the stove, where the pancakes were almost ready to be poured, and the closed bedroom doors, behind which his roommates were still fast asleep. His brow furrowed as if he were contemplating something serious, but the playful glint in his eyes hadn't left.

"You're insatiable," he said, though his voice held just the faintest tremor of doubt. "Not like this. Not in the kitchen."

"You're thinking about it?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why? Craving something sweet?"

"Always, pretty girl," he murmured, his tone soft but filled with heat. "But don't tempt me."

"Why not?" you challenged, leaning in just a little closer. "Who was it that said to give in to temptation and not run from the truth? Why stop now?"

Aki's smirk deepened as he slid one hand around your waist, his fingers grazing the small of your back. "Because my temptations involve me hiking that little sweater up and fucking you right there on the table until the neighbors call the cops," he whispered, his lips barely brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Behave."

Yes, sir.

Just before you could retort, you heard the soft creak of a door opening. In an instant, both of you pulled away from each other, the space between you filled with unspoken tension. Eventually, a familiar head of ginger hair popped into the kitchen, tired eyes barely open, pants hanging low on his hips. 

"Morning," Denji yawned.

Aki's words left you breathless, still. You cast him an uncertain glance. He smirked – barely there, of course, but just enough to tell you that your conversation wasn't over. Then, he turned back to the stove.

Denji reached for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of Orange Juice.

"You making pancakes over there?" The younger of the two boys asked, pulling a seat out from beneath the kitchen table and plopping down – clearly unwilling to bring up the whole issue of whatever the fuck happened last night.

This entire situation is unreal.

"Yeah," Aki answered. Clearly, he didn't want to talk about it either. Instead, he poured some batter onto the pan.

Awkwardly, you inched towards the seat at the table across from him. You sat down and folded your hands on the table. He eyed you up curiously, like wasn't sure if last night had been a dream. You avoided his gaze, looking down at your lap.

Suddenly, you felt conscious of your appearance — was your hair disheveled? Had he left marks on your neck? Did Denji have some sort of superpower that allowed him to see through your sweater and see the bruises Aki's strong hands had left on your hips the night before?

A few silent minutes passed, during which neither of you three brought up the elephant in the room. A moment longer, and you were joined by Aki's other nightmare roommate — a short girl with pink hair, sharp teeth, and red little horns protruding from the top of her head. 

She entered the kitchen with a proud shriek of, "Well risings, mortals! I smell sustenance."

When she noticed you, a look of confusion replaced her grin. She sat down at the table next to Denji and asked him, "Who is this human?"

And, just like that, the line is crossed.

Denji shrugged as Aki set a plate of pancakes down in front of him. He quirked a snarky little brow, glaring up at him, "Dunnno. Why don't you ask him?"

Power's lips were pressed into a confused little pout. She looked up at Aki as he walked behind her, but the moment she saw he was coming towards her with a plate, she kept her mouth shut. Four pancakes were heaped onto each of their dishes. The moment it hit the table, she reached for the fork and the knife and dug in.

Finally, Aki came around the table, offering you a plate of pancakes and an apologetic expression before taking a seat next to you. There were two pancakes on his plate, garnished with butter and honey. 

You looked at him with wide eyes that flicked between him and his roommate, blinking extra hard, as if to say, Help me.

He sighed your name in response, "Meet Denji and Power, the two shitheads I live with."

Great. That wasn't helpful at all.

"Why are you not bowing?" The Power girl slammed her fist down against the table. "You are in the presence of greatness."

Denji didn't seem to care much to acknowledge her, ripping a piece off of his pancake and stuffing it into his mouth before saying, "You're bangin' the captain, right?"

Your mouth hung open. Aki tensed, furrowing his brows angrily, "Denji."

"What? You told me you weren't seeing anyone when I asked you, but I saw her come out of your room," Denji snapped back. He ripped another chunk out of his pancake, and stuffed his mouth again. 

"We were having a... sleepover...?" You answered hesitantly, trying to make the situation better (and making it worse).

Denji pointed an accusatory finger at you, "Girls and boys don't have sleepovers."

Power shoved his arm, "Nonsense. Plenty of people do it."

Denji's head snapped towards her. He barked, "Yeah, plenty of people who are banging each other!"

You dropped your head into your hands, groaning into the table. 

Aki handled the situation calmly, as he normally did, "She's my girlfriend."

And, just like that, your head was popping back up. Your wide eyes were on him immediately, heart pounding against your ribs like it was about to break loose. Girlfriend?

Then, a warmth spread over the back of your neck and your face, and you realized you weren't entirely opposed to being his girlfriend. Unless he was just putting up an act. In which case, you definitely weren't getting your hopes up — on paper, you were still married, anyway, right?

Right?

Denji and Power looked just as shocked as you did.

"You lying piece of shit!" Denji hissed. He turned to Power and added, "See? I told you! I knew it! He's been too lenient lately. Pay up."

Power crossed her arms. Mouth still full, she replied, "I refuse."

Denji leapt up from his seat, pointing at her now, "No way. You owe me a feel!"

Oh my god.

"There's a new pack of gum in the car," Aki sighed — visibly distressed by his roommates' behavior but noticeably unsurprised. Clearly this was no infrequent occurrence in his household. 

The two of them perked up at that. 

Aki continued, voice stern and notably father-like, "I'll give the both of you two pieces each if you keep your mouths shut."

Slowly, Denji lowered himself back into his seat. Power's angry face dropped, replaced by a wide-eyed frown, like that of a begging dog.

"Yes, sir," Denji answered obediently.

Power added, "At your service, My Liege."

"This doesn't leave the table. Got it?" Aki told the two of them. Carefully, he cut his pancakes into nine squares. He popped one onto a fork. 

The two roommates nodded quickly.

Aki sighed, "Good. If you have any questions to ask her, do it politely."

Power was the first to ask, "Do you work with him?"

Finally having a chance to speak, you smiled softly, sheepishly, "Yeah. I'm new to Tokyo, though."

"Great. There will be plenty of time, then," She grinned, "I wish the two of you nothing but success in your mission to procreate!"

You choked on the mouthful of pancakes you were trying to swallow down. Before you could even comment on that wildly invasive statement, Denji answered with a question of his own.

"He said be respectful, dumbass," He tutted. He polished off the rest of his pancakes in (seemingly) a few ridiculously huge bites before he asked. "Is it true that women's boobs are measured with letter-sizes?" A pause, then he added, "How big are yours?"

"You little brat," Aki grumbled as he slammed his fork down on the table, "I'm gonna kick your ass."

An hour after breakfast had wrapped up, and Aki had left you to do the dishes, you left for the balcony — but not before reaching into the pocket of the suit jacket he had left neatly folded on the couch and stealing one of his beloved cigarettes and his lucky lighter.

You didn't know what had gotten into you lately. Yet, as you stepped outside and closed the sliding door behind you, you couldn't help the relieved sigh that left your lips the moment the cig was lit and in your mouth.

The cherry crackled as you pulled a long, drawn out hit from it — thinking briefly back to a point in time some six or seven years ago when you were still a young Public Safety officer with a cigarette dangling from her lips, and then to the night before, when Aki had blown the smoke into your mouth. You sighed, releasing the smoke with the slightest cough.

Of course, the peaceful moment was shattered the moment you felt your phone buzzing in the pocket of the basketball shorts Aki had lent you earlier, saying something about how Denji was "Shamelessly ogling your legs". They were long enough to touch the back of your calves. Of course, you imagined they fit him differently.

You plucked the little device out, flipping it open. The screen was illuminated by a call — with two concerns being raised. Firstly, your phone was only on 12%. Secondly, the person calling you was your husband.

Your heart dropped. In a moment, it was as if the tranquil morning had been shattered, leaving you with that feeling of dread you knew all too well. You hadn't spoken to him since the night before you had left for Tokyo.

You flipped the phone open, accepting the call. "Hey."

"Hey. How have you been?"

Fine, before he called. You didn't say that, though, instead pulling another puff of your cigarette. "I've been good."

There was a rather lengthy pause, after which your husband cleared his throat, "Look. I wanted to call you because I felt real bad about what happened before you left."

You couldn't possibly doubt him more. Still, you had spent the entirety of last night getting your guts rearranged by his superior. You figured you had outdone him. "Yeah? It's alright."

"No, it's not," He answered, much to your surprise, "I had no right to hit you. That was super out of line. I'm just... I've been stressed out with work and you being gone, and... I dunno, I..."

The line paused again. You took another hit.

"I can't shake this feeling about you in Tokyo. I feel like something's wrong," He finished.

Your stomach churned with unease. He was right, of course, but you couldn't let onto that – if it had taken him that long to notice, he couldn't really care. Hell, he hadn't called you since you left.

"Like what?" You replied with a noncommittal hum. You couldn't give less of a shit what he was feeling, to be completely fair and honest. He never cared what you were thinking? 

"I don't know what. I know I said some rude things, but... I don't think that's an excuse for you to be ignoring me like this. I've been waiting for your call," He sighed. "Are you okay? Are we okay?"

You nearly burst out laughing at the sheer irony of it all. So now he cares?

He's far too late.

As if on cue, the sliding door opened. Faintly, you could hear Denji and Power shouting at each other in the background, followed by a set of quiet footsteps right behind you. The door shut. You didn't have to turn around to know who it was. 

Aki came up on you from behind, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He smelled of pancakes and laundry soap and cologne, a scent so divine that it had you relaxing into his touch instantly.

On the phone, your husband drew on, "Hello? You still there?"

You felt a warm kiss at the back of your neck, followed by another that landed a little higher, and then a little higher. Then he peppered a series of butterfly kisses to the sensitive skin there. You grinned, leaning into his touch while swatting him away all the same.

"Yeah," You answered, voice teetering on a giggle. Aki pulled you flush against his chest, arms squeezing you tight while he teased you with more butterfly kisses. "Sorry, I'm multitasking."

Aki's hands gripped your hips, pulling them back so that your ass was pressed right up against him. Then, he leaned down, nibbling softly at the skin near the corner of your jaw – then soothed over it with a lick of his warm, flattened tongue.

You bit back a laugh, pushing him away. Finally, he seceded, leaving you alone so that he could sit down on the chair on the balcony and watch you.

Your husband spoke up. You had almost forgotten he was there. In a few short words, he shattered your entire world; 

"I'm being stationed in Tokyo."

a/n: ermmmmmmm... heyyyyy... how yall doin.... ok now look. don't hate me. you know after all that sugar i gave yall i had to throw in a curveball, cmon. (this is a notiddygothgf fanfic after all). dont be too mad, i'll be back shortly!!! the plot thickens from here. I wonder what will happen?? (jk i already know but id love to hear what YALL think will happen). (you know mama always makes it up to you bbs). THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR UNWAVERING SUPPORT! You guys and ur comments literally keep me going. Part of me never wants this story to end (which is crazy bc it was originally a one shot lmfao.). anyway not too much more, love yall!! ciao pookies! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[betweenujb]

the way i am

nayeon x momo

warnings: fluff, hangover, momo's such a sweetheart

Nayeon was never drinking again. 

Well, never again is a bit of an exaggeration. Let's say for a few weeks at least. 

Her head felt like someone was beating it with a hammer and her body was sore in places she didn't even know could be sore. 

"Momo," Nayeon groaned. She managed to open one eye, immediately regretting it as the brightness in her room and the lack of her girlfriend in her bed made her head hurt even worse. 

"Momo wha' time i' it?" 

After more one-sided, hungover mumbling, Nayeon swung her legs over the side of the bed. Although she was moving normally, she felt like there were weights tied to her feet. 

Getting out of bed in the morning had never been so hard and Nayeon was just getting started. A few seconds of grumbling and groaning later, Nayeon's feet landed on the plush rug underneath the bed. 

"Hey, hey. What are you doing? Trying to sneak away?" 

It took all the energy in her body, but Nayeon managed to squint her eyes open. 

Momo softly laughed to herself as she started to roll the blinds down. The tray of food that she walked in with was left on the dresser along with the extra strong americano. 

Once all the room was darkened considerably, Momo picked the tray back up and sat it at the foot of the bed on her side before kneeling down beside Nayeon. 

"Momoring. 'mso achy." Nayeon's words were barely audible, but Momo had more than enough time to become a master of a barely conscious bunny. 

"All over?" 

A wordless nod was all Momo needed. She stood up and leaned over, lightly grabbing Nayeon's ankles. She properly slid her back into bed and sat her up. It took five times longer than usual, but Nayeon's consistent groaning lengthened the process. 

"Okay. Let's get something good in you," Momo whispered against Nayeon's forehead as she kissed her. 

Nayeon grimaced and shook her head. Even that felt like it took a world of effort. 

While many people would have been annoyed by Nayeon's groaning and whining, Momo was patient. In fact, she was a little sentimental each time Nayeon was hungover like this. 

To any outsider, it would seem cruel for someone to be sentimental over another person's misery. To Momo and Nayeon, it made perfect sense. 

Nayeon woke up in a cold sweat. Her head was pounding, and it felt like someone had punched her in the gut. She took a deep breath, forcing her body to regulate itself a bit. The last thing she needed was to kneel in front of her toilet. 

Shifting in bed, Nayeon brought her hand up to her face. She pushed the hair stuck to sweaty forehead before laying her hand back down against the sheets. They were cool and brought more comfort to her body than usual. 

As Nayeon laid there, she ran her hand back and forth across the sheets. After a few swipes, her whole body froze. Her eyes shot open, immediately thrown off by the sight of a hanging plant in the corner of her eye. 

Nayeon forced herself to sit up. Still extremely hungover, but much more aware, she realized that she wasn't in her bed. She tried her best not to panic, but as she looked around the room, Nayeon spotted her clothes neatly folded in an arm chair in the corner of the room. 

Out of instinct, Nayeon gathered the sheets up against her chest to hide her... fully clothed body. She lowered the sheets and pulled at the hem of the baby blue pajama top she was wearing. It was extremely comfortable and totally something she'd wear, but she knew for a fact that it wasn't hers. 

Before she had any more time to piece together anything else other than being in a stranger's bed, the doorknob turned. Wide-eyed, Nayeon stared at the door. 

She didn't know who she expected to walk in, but a very cute brunette was the last person she would have thought of. Maybe a serial killer or a douchey college guy, but never a beautiful woman. 

"Oh, hey. You're awake. I hope I wasn't making too much noise in the kitchen." 

Nayeon was grateful that her mystery woman was speaking in a soft tone. It still thundered through her head, but it was still better than full volume. 

"Who- why am I- wait. Shit." Nayeon squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingertips against her temples. Talking only further exacerbated her brain pounding in her skull. 

"It's okay. You're safe. I'm sure you've got a lot of questions, but they can definitely wait." The stranger — well, Nayeon was technically the stranger in this situation — walked to the edge of her bed and held out a cup of coffee and two pills. "I'm Momo and I have some coffee and extra strength ibuprofen." 

Nayeon really didn't want to potentially be drugged by anyone. Going against her instincts and listening to her aching head, she took the coffee and pills out of Momo's hand. If she was going to potentially be taken advantage of, then at least it was going to be a pretty woman. 

"This isn't secretly just some long and twisted plan to drug me and take advantage of me?" 

Momo chuckled and shook her head. "It never is, and it never will be." 

Nayeon managed to nurse a cup of coffee and a half a piece of toast. Momo took the plate and empty mug from her lap and sat it back down on the tray. "How're you feeling, baby?" 

Nayeon gave Momo a weak smile and a gentle peck on the cheek. She laid her head on Momo's shoulder and laced their fingers together. She loved that Momo's hands were always so soft. " 'm feeling a little better." 

Momo lifted their hands up and kissed the back of Nayeon's hand. She let her lips linger so she could feel the smoothness of Nayeon's skin. She tasted like a mix of their coconut hand soap and lavender lotion. 

"I hate seeing you so hungover, but I love being able to take care of you like this. You never let me baby you anymore." Momo smiled and lowered their hands back down to her lap. Her thumb traced nonsensical shapes along the back of Nayeon's hand. 

"You're too good to me. I promise that I'll never drink again." 

There was a pause before they both laughed. Momo shook her head, careful not to jostle Nayeon's head on her shoulder. "As much as I love you, we both know that you love drinking with Jihyo too much." 

Momo let go of Nayeon's hand. This was met with a brief whine from her, but it was soon quelled as soon as Momo wrapped her arm around her. She rested her hand on Nayeon's waist and pulled her closer. 

"Besides, I love taking care of you. You're like a little baby." 

Nayeon's playful smacks were much lighter when all of her strength was sapped from the night before. Either way, Momo loved it. She'd take a thousand of those playful hits if they were from Nayeon. 

"I love you so much, Nay. Hangovers and all." 

Nayeon knew that Momo was right. She did enjoy drinking with Jihyo too much. And she didn't mind spending the day with Momo in bed. She knew that soon the ibuprofen would kick in and she'd be able to keep down Momo's tasty hangover cure cooking. 

Momo gently squeezed Nayeon's waist. She really did love taking care of her girlfriend. It let her see a side of Nayeon that no one else got to see. She was always more vulnerable and willing to let herself be babied whenever it was just the two of them. 

[ashdreams2023]

hello i love your blog, this may be random but can I please request avengers x reader who is an empath? also could u pls include Loki as her s/o?? 🙃🙃

Lol ok

Avengers x empath reader

you have a kind heart, they swear they know and promise it’s not a big deal how you act

Natasha is the one that always feels amused when you get all emotional over something random

Loki once saw you cry over a pigeon nest because the wind blowed it away

"Darling it will make another one later" "but it worked so hard for it! And they don’t know better…"

Everyone comes to you to rent, Tony jokes is that they should start paying you for therapy sessions

Loki doesn’t like when people don’t take you in consideration just because you’re nice and patient

Too patient at times "Dove you don’t have to put up with this just because they have a bad day!"

"It’s ok, it was just a slip, I can tell they are just frustrated with themselves, give them time to get back into their senses"

Thor thinks you’re the sweetest soul for seeing the good in Loki before anyone else could

"My brother is very…misunderstood and I am grateful he found someone as compassionate as you are"

The second you say you don’t feel right about someone new, they immediately become on the watch list

You’re one of the few people that can calm halk

"Y/N what are you doing?" "Oh I’m just booking for a rage room" "should I ask why?" "No."

Loki likes to take you out on nice dates where it’s only you two in nature, it feels more comfortable than being in crowded areas where people either step all over you or you might get distracted by someone who’s energy is not that good to be around

"Why did you give me a chance?" "Because I can tell, you’re not really a bad person"

Bruce and you go on his off day to buy ice cream and talk about his temper

Sometimes Tony would take you into interrogation rooms just to see if you tell who’s being genuine or not

Clint is very protective of you as well, he stands behind when look is not around and gives deadly glares at anyone who think they can just be nasty to you

Although you are a kind hearted person Loki likes to tease you until you get frustrated with him and show some of your anger, it’s not much but thinks it’s healthy

"Loki! Stop being annoying!" "You’re so sexy when you’re angry"

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Never Quite Enough

Part 5

Billy Russo x Reader

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Warnings: Angst, insomnia, more angst.

"Can I confess something to you?" Matt asks.

You look up from your phone in surprise, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. He's dressed in his crisp white shirt and suit pants, his jacket somewhere nearby. 

He looks pristine, but you know you prefer his undressed look even more, the sight of his bare chest was a soothing balm on the open wound that was your life.

You wait patiently for his words.

"I think... he really likes you. Genuinely." 

You let out a long sigh. 

"That sounds like his problem. I am done with him." You say quickly, on a harsh breath.

"Are you?" He challenges, with a calm tone.

You swallow, honestly, you didn't know.

It's been weeks. Nearly a month and a half since you broke up with him, the same amount of time you'd been together. 

Why was climbing out harder than falling in?

Something tugs in your chest, you let out a soft breath. You feel bad for letting one person comfort you for another person's actions.

"Matt." You say his name slowly, looking up at him, the space of his countertop between you.

You swallow.

"I'm sorry." You finally say.

"What for?"

"If I've- lead you on, or made you feel uncomfortable- please just tell me. I'd rather you tell me you're tired of me, than being forced to tolerate me."

He lets out a harsh breath, moves around the counter swiftly.

Before you can process it, your face is buried in his clothed chest.

He smells like the gentle lavender soap he uses, and you're too stunned to do anything other than breathe it in.

"You're not leading me on. I promise, and I'm not just tolerating you. I like you."

A little sob hiccups from your throat, the strength of his adoration pours into you, fills, overflows.

"I've been tolerated my whole life." You say into his chest, tears falling freely, "The first time I felt like I could exist was with him, and even that had been a lie." You grip the back of his shirt, sobbing into his chest.

He shushes you softly, his stubbled cheek pressed to the crown of your head.

His body tightens around you, it makes you feel worse, like you're forcing him to comfort you in some way. You cry harder.

Matt holds you through it, and when your violent shaking turns into little hiccups, he leans down to kiss your forehead, his thumb swiping at one cheek, to push your tears away.

"He's hurt you so badly, and It's up to you to decide whether that damage can be fixed or not. But you need to know that you're not tolerated, you're appreciated. By me...and by him."

"How do you know?" You protest, looking into his unfocused eyes.

"I heard him say it. To his friend, Frank, that day at the gala. I heard him tell Frank that he loves you."

You blink, drawing your head back in shock.

Love?

You sniffle, Matt's words have knocked the sadness right out of you, replacing it with surprise.

 You reach for a tissue sitting on the countertop.

"That can't be right." You hum, wiping at your nose, and dabbing at your cheeks. You'd have to re-do today's makeup before work.

"His actions were awful, and the things he did do not deserve forgiveness. But his feelings now are genuine." Matt says.

Now?

Your shoulders drop.

They hadn't been genuine before?

When he'd offered you one of his shirts to sleep in, on the very first night you'd slept over, the hidden eager look in his eyes... that had been fake?

Of course it was, your mind supplies, you feel like you're sinking lower with each thought.

Like a full tub being emptied, you feel the emotion drain right out of you.

You spend a solid moment like that, in disbelief at the emotion just leaving you, rejecting Matt’s last words without another second of consideration.

You part your lips, finally sucking in a deep breath that doesn’t hurt.

Your mouth parts wider in relief. 

For the first time, you feel true nothingness, and not the numbness of the refusal to process emotion that you were used to.

It's liberating, you close your eyes in bliss.

Somehow, you'd managed to turn your turbulent emotions off.

Like a switch, flipping inside you, centred around your confused feelings. Your brain doesn't know how to feel, so it stops feeling.

You know Matt wasn't the type of man to lie to you, it wasn't even in his nature to stretch the truth. He was a man that could only speak fact, and something said with this much surety could only be true.

But that didn’t mean you were capable of accepting his words. Instead you smile at him, wiping at your tears.

“I should get to work.” You respond, looking up at him with a small smile on your face.

.

The world around you is interesting, when you can’t feel a thing. Nothing matters, at all.

You smile at Dex easily, engaging him in conversation, a past version of you would probably be feeling absolutely hollow inside. Instead, you simply exist, only answering questions when you’re asked, smiling along to small talk.

There’s no sadness, or despair, or hate for yourself.

There’s nothing.

And nothing had to be better than everything all at once...right?

It’s peaceful now, your work gets done much faster, headphones on to help you focus, you feel like pushing yourself to see how much you’re capable of, only stopping for a few short breaks throughout the day.

It feels good, getting things done ahead of time, it makes you feel like you’re being efficient  in a space you’ve only felt desolation for a long while.

You only realise how late it is when the night cleaning crew shows up.

Only then you decide to amble on home, a bowl of ramen in your arms, tucked into your couch in the dark of the night before bed.

You don’t see Matt that night, probably busy at his own job, and you’re okay with that, knowing that you shouldn’t be using him as any type of emotional crutch in the first place.

The problem comes when you try to go to sleep.

You find that you can’t, you don’t feel sleepy. 

You toss and you turn and you sit up and you have tea and press the heels of your hands against your eyes and struggle with being awake when you should be asleep.

You have nothing to help you sleep, so you curl up in bed and close your eyes and pretend that you’re asleep until morning when your alarm goes off for work.

Silence and nothingness are your associates now, and however inconvenient, you prefer it to whatever was there before.

He loves you, your mind tries to interject during your morning routine, and you stop comically while brushing your teeth to stare dead ahead at yourself in the mirror.

Love… I barely know what that is, you answer.

You resume brushing your teeth.

You’re acutely aware that at some point, you’re probably going to crash. People aren’t made to be awake for long periods of time and feel this fine about it.

Being at work is pretty okay, and you don’t feel like ripping your hair out at the first inconvenience. 

It’s your second day of working late, and you’re dealing with it well. You’ve put your phone on do not disturb and with your headphones in, you’re lost in your own world of report reading and analysis.

Really, you should have known that letting your guard drop would tempt fate too much. The fickle way life tended to work around you should have had your walls up permanently.

But in your exhausted state, leaning against the wall gripping your bag with one hand while waiting for the elevator, it was hard to keep any sort of defense up.

So when someone says your name in mild surprise, the only response you can give is a raise of your head.

He looks as exhausted as you feel, and you wonder if he sees something similar in you. His jacket folded neatly over one arm, phone in his palm.

“Hey Mister Russo.” You say softly in greeting, straightening to take a step into the elevator.

He doesn’t say anything for a second as the doors close.

“It’s late.” He comments, and you turn your head to glance at him.

“Yes it is.” You agree, unable to stay steady on your feet, you lean against the wall of the elevator too.

“You look tired.”

You let out a slow breath.

“I’ll live.” You answer.

“We should talk.”

You groan, tilting your head back.

“You’re making me wish I’d taken another elevator.” 

“Let me drive you home.” He answers as if you hadn’t just expressed your distaste for him.

You raise your head to look at him angrily.

There were so many things you wanted to say. Leave me alone. Take a hike. I don’t want to talk to you. I’d rather chew nails that get into a car with you. Why are you looking at me like that? Do you love me?

In the end, you say nothing, and the doors to the elevators slide open, and you step out without even a goodbye.

The lobby is quiet, dimly lit, very much somber and lacking the life that there usually is during the daylight.

You only get a few steps out of the elevator before he’s blocking your path with his tall frame.

You huff, looking up at him, willing him to go away.

“Can we please talk? Please?”

You were so irritated with having to experience him and his constant persistence of you. You blink, angrily clenching your teeth together.

“Why? Why should I even give you a chance, Billy? So you can lie to me more? Hurt me more? What’s it going to take for you to realise that we’re over?”

He lets out a sharp breath.

“We have something. You know we do. There’s a voice inside you that tells you we’re right for each other. I hear it too.”

“You’re wrong,” You answer softly, “There’s no voice.”

He shakes his head.

“Don’t lie, don’t act like-” He cuts off, letting out a slow breath.

“Like what?” You prod.

“-Like you don’t care!” He hisses, “Stop acting like this was nothing.” He says, gesturing to the space between you.

“This was nothing.” You clarify.

He looks frustrated, all you can do is observe him with a casual tilt of your head.

“What you did was unforgivable. What could you possibly want from me now?” You follow up, after he’s unable to speak.

“Another chance.” He utters.

You raise your eyebrows.

“To do what?” You felt like you had to break this down for him like a child.

“To prove to you that my feelings were real,” He takes a step forward, getting closer to you and forcing you to tilt your head up to keep looking at him.

“To show you that I think you’re the best person on the planet. That we have something,” Billy’s hands raise to cup your face, his eyes dark, a void pulling you in, “worth fighting for.”

He leans in, and it only just registers in your tired brain that he’s going to kiss you.

“I have a boyfriend.” You whisper out in a rush in an effort to deter him.

His only response is a small smile.

“Break up with him.” he answers simply as his mouth meets your in a soft kiss.

It melts you, like it usually does. His bearded face creating tingles as it scratches against yours and for a moment you feel so whole.

And then you’re pushing him away, because you don’t deserve this, because you are not someone you believe is worth fighting for.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, unable to meet his eyes, “I just don’t believe in us the way you do.” You step to the side, and dodge his hand when he tries to grab your wrist.

He calls your name behind you as you leave, the sound is soft, pleading.

You don’t look back.

.

When he touches his lips, he can still feel you there.

Like you own his mouth, and now every kiss is yours, and every smile is for you.

He needs you, so badly that it hurts him.

There’s also a sober part of him that wishes he had the capacity to leave you alone, let you heal from him, leave him behind and move on with your life. But the selfish part of him, the part that fought for scraps in a house of too many people, that part of him clings to the love he has. 

In many ways he’s still a child, he acknowledges, always quietly hoping that someone could want him, listen to him, talk to him about every useless topic on the planet.

He’d found that in you. Someone to listen to him, not just give a vacant smile when he spoke, or roll their eyes, exhausted at his small, unpracticed attempts at conversation. 

He loved the little niche tidbits of information you knew, he was always learning something exciting, or something that made you light up when you spoke.

And then he’d- done that.

The little boy that never had anything, sabotaging his one chance at love because somewhere deep down inside, he didn’t know if he was really capable of it. Maybe he wasn’t. He’d never had it aimed in his direction really.

Who had loved him? Ever in his life? 

Frank was the closest thing he had to a brother, Billy had no doubt that the Castles loved him. 

And it was good, but it wasn’t enough. 

Now more than ever he knew that, lying awake, fingers pressed to his mouth where he could still feel the softness of your lips. He knew what being enough to someone had felt like.

He knew he’d do anything to have that again.

.

You can’t sleep at all.

It’s way worse than before.

Things had been okay when you couldn’t feel anything, but one kiss had brought it all back. Now, you were just sad all over again. 

Each time you kissed him, pulled you together, and each time you left him behind, you shattered even more.

Like glass that had been broken once, being hammered into splinters. You didn’t know how much of yourself had been damaged, beyond hope of repair already.

And yet still, you couldn’t forget him.

The soft heat of his touch, the sound of his breaths. You spend the entire night thinking about him, and wishing you could think about something, anything else.

.

There’s a box waiting on your desk when you get in the next morning.

It fits in your palm, wrapped in blue floral gift paper with a black bow on top. It screams Billy.

“That from Matt?” Dex asks, as he’s walking by and observes your handling of the gift.

“Probably.” You lie, tugging at the bow.

“Hope it’s something nice.” He wishes as he steps away, going back to whatever he was doing.

His wrapping is precise, no fold is haphazard, the bow sits right in the middle, perfectly equidistant from all edges.

It pulls a smile to your face. You almost don’t want to open it, the effort put into wrapping is a gift in itself.

You doubt Billy had given many gifts in his life- or even gotten them. He’d only mentioned it once that he didn’t have parents, and that he grew up in the system. You’d wanted to ask about it, but you’d never gotten a real chance.

You wanted to know how many gifts he'd gotten, how many happy birthdays.

You shouldn't care, it shouldn't matter to you, but it did.

You take the wrapping off carefully, wanting to preserve every bit of this, something that could be remembered later, savoured when you needed something to think of in the darkness of the night.

You tug the lid off the box quickly, eyes locking onto the shimmering gold in the box.

Your mouth parts in surprise.

It’s a simple present, butterfly hair clips in a gold colour. Each wing of the shiny butterfly is attached to the clip with a few small springs, it means that every slight movement makes the wings appear as though they’re fluttering.

All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, staring at similar clips in someone else’s hair. You gulp, looking around for a note, an explanation as to why.

You’d only asked your parents once for them, and then never again.

His note is lodged beneath the lid of the box, and you take your time prying it out, opening it.

‘Saw these and thought of you.

-Billy

x.'

You blink back tears, looking at the delicate clips once more.

You don’t take them out of the box, despite how badly you want to. You settle for just running a careful finger over the fluttering wings, a quiet appreciation of something you’d forgotten you wanted.

The clips are so shiny that they were bound to catch attention, which was the last thing you wanted here. Maybe later, after everyone was gone, you could indulge yourself in trying them on.

It was a brilliant gift, something small and seemingly unimportant, and yet, an item that he hadn’t known you’d desired from the moment you first saw them.

Warm, something trickling into the very depths of you, a feeling you want, a feeling you yearn for. 

You reach for your phone, with calling him in mind, his extension seared to your memory and you just want to talk to him-

You slam the phone down just as fast. A few coworkers looking over at you in your peripherals.

Dread spills over inside of you, a paralysing fear that you were playing directly into his game, that this was a ploy, or even if it wasn’t, you couldn’t just go back to normal with him. He’d done something unforgivable, and you had to be rigid in your inability to absolve him of his actions.

He’d made a bet, with his friends, to see if he was capable of being in an exhausting relationship with you, because everyone thinks that you were annoying.

Because he thought that you were annoying.

You tuck his gift into the top drawer of your desk, letting the pain of his betrayal reorient you.

Billy Russo did not like you.

.

“Shit.” You curse, glancing at the time on your phone. You’d been so zoned into your computer that you hadn’t even noticed that the work day had been officially over for a while now. 

You sigh, leaning back, opening your top drawer to grab a page marker for the document you just sent to print. 

You spot the little gift box tucked into the back of the drawer and you can’t help the smile that pulls onto your face.

You drop everything you’re doing, reaching for the box happily. 

You take your time, pinning one clip to either side of your head to pull some of your hair back, opening your front camera to admire the little fluttering clips.

You loved the little things, delicate in your hair, glittering with the movement and the lights and you make a mental note to avoid the possibility of getting it tangled in your hair as best as possible.

You get distracted by the sound of the printer beeping in the distance to signal your print was completed and you get up to grab the file. 

A few hours later, you hear the elevator nearby make a small sound as it stops on your floor. You look up, alert and the awareness of how late it is makes you a little scared.

It’s him that rounds the corner, crisp suit, his jacket tucked under his arm. He pauses when he notices you, your eyes meeting, before a little smile pulls onto his face.

“I figured you’d be here.” He hums, approaching you.

You huff, glancing back at your computer screen.

“You just can’t seem to leave me alone, can you?” You bite back.

When he’s quiet for too long, standing beside you, you turn to look up at him.

There’s a strange expression on his face, something that washes the coldness inside of you away with gentle warmth.

“What?” You ask, trying to keep your voice harsh.

Why are you looking at me like that?

“You’re real fuckin’ pretty.” He answers.

You make a sound of annoyance, turning back to your computer to continue working on your excel sheet.

Do you love me?

Your fingers freeze on your keyboard when he kneels in your peripherals next to you.

What in God’s name was he doing?

You let out a harsh breath.

“Billy-”

His hand reaches to touch something in your hair, it’s only then you remember that you’re wearing the clips he gave you.

“-These look so much better on you than I’d imagined.” He whispers, turning a strand of your hair over between his fingers.

You look down, unable to meet his eyes.

“I’ve always wanted them, since I was little. My parents fought a lot, and I could never work up the courage to ask for them. Then, when I got older, I could never find them.” You glance up at him for a moment before looking away, “Thank you, I love them, but that doesn’t change anything between us.”

His eyebrows pull together sadly, a reflectiveness to his eyes that wasn’t there before.

Do you love me?

“You should go home, it’s late.”

You give him a tired smile.

“Yeah, I know, I just have a little bit more to do.”

“Do it tomorrow. You shouldn’t be here so late.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” You mutter absentmindedly, “I’m making you money.”

He grips your chair, turning it quickly away from your computer until you face him.

You meet his gaze with an annoyed look of your own.

“I have enough money.” He answers with a teasing expression. The corner of your lip twitches in amusement.

“Whatever.” You say, trying to turn your chair back to your computer, but he only grips it tighter to keep you in place. His eyes dart to your desk, and then he reaches for something, grabbing it off your desk and moving away quickly.

When you look back at your desk you notice your wireless mouse is missing.

“Hey!” You stand, taking a few steps toward him. He mirrors your movement, taking a few steps back as well.

“Give that back, Russo.” You warn, approaching him again, this time he doesn’t move, encouraging you to try getting closer to him again.

When you’re within grabbing range, he grins, hiding his hands behind his back.

“Shut down your computer and go home.” He tries again.

“Or what?” You challenge, reaching around to grab at his hands. He shifts the mouse from his left to his right hand quickly, forcing you to get even closer to him, to try grabbing it.

“Or I throw this thing out the window and unplug your computer.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You argue, gripping his fist in yours and trying to pry his fingers open.

He pulls his hand away from you easily, giving you an evil grin before raising his fist with your mouse above his head where you couldn’t possibly reach on your own.

You don’t even try to jump for it, only crossing your arms and looking up at him.

“I could knee you in the balls. I’d get it really quickly that way.” You threaten.

He tips his head back and laughs, and you find yourself smiling too. You take the chance, using the distraction to jump and grab his fist. 

But your attempt seemed to be exactly what he wanted because in the next moment his hand is on your waist, using your own momentum against you to spin you, switching positions so that he can press you against the wall that was just behind him.

You gasp, looking up at him in bewilderment. His scent floods your nose, reigniting an ache inside of you, one that yearned for him.

He watches you carefully, doesn’t do anything more than uncurl his fingers, so that you can get the mouse sitting in the palm of his hand.

You look at the mouse, and then back into his eyes, letting out a slow sigh, wishing for something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Thank you.” You say, taking the mouse from him, and ducking under his arm to slip out from between his body and the wall. 

Sitting at your desk once again, you groan in annoyance as he grabs a chair from a nearby desk and sits himself near you.

“What now?” You ask, barely looking at him.

“I’m not leaving till you do.” He answers simply.

"For a CEO, you seem really bad at getting the message." You grunt out.

He sighs, leaning forward to prop his elbow onto your desk, and then after a moment, he rests his face in his hand, looking at you calmly.

"I'm sorry." He says softly.

"So I've heard." You answer, deciding to save your work before he actually unplug your computer.

"Have you been sleeping?" Billy asks on another soft breath.

"Yes." You lie.

"You haven't. It's why you're here so late. Because you go home, and you lie awake, staring at the ceiling." He says, and you get the feeling that he isn't only talking about you.

"Can you blame me?" You snipe, trying to focus on your screen so that you can pretend that this conversation isn't happening.

There's a long silence before he speaks again.

"I hate myself."

Your chest squeezes harshly, brain halting any thoughts of work. You stare at the computer screen, feeling pressure build behind your eyes.

You wipe an unsteady hand over your mouth for comfort.

"Yeah well, that makes both of us." You reply shakily.

"I've always kind of hated myself," he continues, and you peek a look over at him to find that he's shifted, his hands in his lap, bending a paperclip out of shape while he speaks, "Even when I was a kid, I told myself that there must be something very wrong with me for my mom to not want me."

You take a deep breath, listening to him, finally hearing him open up about himself for the first time.

"I almost got adopted once, interview with a family had gone well, they let me move in with them for a trial period. I almost had what I wanted most, and then-" He gives a shake of his head, to knock the memory loose and you want so badly to reach over and take his hand, to stop him from worrying the paperclip out of shape, only to try to reshape it again, "-I punched their son in the face for something so dumb I can barely remember it. They dropped me back the next morning without a goodbye."

You watch in your peripherals as he puts the paperclip back into shape, except it doesn't look quite right, a little misshapen after his touch.

"My therapist says I've always had a penchant for self sabotage. Always worried that something good will be taken away, so I ruin it, so that at least it's ruined on my terms." He grins, "What a nutjob."

"You? Or your therapist?" You ask.

He huffs out a surprised laugh, looking up at you for a second, watching you return his laugh with a wry smile of your own, before glancing away.

Do you love me, Billy Russo?

"Sorry. I don't mean to force your forgiveness with a shitty story of growing up in the system. I just- well- I was hoping it would help you… understand me a little more."

“Don’t apologize. I get it. We’re all just trying to heal from something.”

“What are you trying to heal from? Besides me?”

You turn away, unsure if you want to tell him, unsure if you can speak for so long without shutting down.

You rub your knuckles against your lips absentmindedly.

“It’s stupid.” You whisper.

“It’s not. I promise.”

You feel anxiety flutter in your stomach.

“I’ve always felt like I was too much. Too loud, too clingy, too unattractive. Like if I was just tolerated, everywhere I went. I made friends, and then after a while, they’d leave, without explanation and with the number of times it happened, I kept thinking to myself that it had to be my fault.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“It’s the only logical explanation, that I’m okay to befriend and talk to a little, but I’m not enough to maintain a friendship with. I’m not enough to be held on to.”

Why weren’t you enough?

You stop talking now, taking a deep breath and holding it to fight off your tears.

He reaches for your hand, and you let him, you can feel the paperclip pressed between your hands.

“I see how badly I fucked up now.” He says softly to you, “And I want you to know that every inch of you is worth fighting for, and I fully intend to show you that.”

You close your eyes, shaking your head with a sad smile.

“Billy-”

“-no buts, you’re about to see some of the most desperate grovelling of your life.”

You laugh in disbelief.

“You’re insane, Russo.”

“Yeah. Don’t tell my therapist.”

.

He wants to hold you so badly. Wrap his arms around you, and feel you lean against him.

In the elevator now, he keeps glancing at you, his eyes drawn to the little fluttering clips in your hair and his heart clenches so tightly in his chest that he swears it stops beating.

“Let me drive you home.” He offers, hoping that you’d let him, instead of taking a taxi at this hour of the night. 

He watches the clips flutter more as you shake your head, a smile pulling onto his face at how adorable you look.

“We’re not there yet, Russo.” You respond.

Yet? He thinks hopefully.

.

.

.

[aishangotome]

Keith Howell: Even If I Were to Disappear

From A Hidden Oath: King of the BEAST (2024 Election) - Collection Event

—

One morning -

While I was doing some research in my room, I heard hurried footsteps in the hallway.

(Is that Emma? If so, could it be...? )

Emma: Prince Keith!

The door burst open and an excited Emma rushed into the room, out of breath.

Emma: I just went to the greenhouse and...!

Keith: I had a feeling it might be time. Let's go together, Emma.

Emma: Yes!

-

Emma: This is the flower that blooms only once in a lifetime...

Emma's eyes sparkled as she looked up at the plant growing in a corner of the greenhouse.

(Emma looks so happy, she's been looking forward to this for so long.)

(Oh no, I have to record the details of the flower.)

I hurriedly turned my attention to the plant.

It was a tall plant that almost reached the ceiling of the greenhouse, with clusters of yellow flowers blooming near the top.

Emma: It's beautiful. It looks like a miniature field of rapeseed blossoms.

Keith: A field of rapeseed blossoms...

Keith: That's a very Emma-like way of putting it. I might just write that down in the records.

Emma: Oh, the records are personal notes that you keep, Your Highness... right?

Keith: They're official records. After all, this flower only blooms once every 100 years. We have to leave it for posterity.

Emma: Please don't include my impressions in such an important document...!

Emma clung to me in a panic, her cuteness bringing a smile to my face.

(...Yes, a flower that only blooms once every 100 years.)

(How lucky I am to be able to see it with Emma like this.)

About half a month ago, the plant, said to bloom only once in a lifetime, had budded.

According to records, it last bloomed 85 years ago, and not only the botanists but also Emma had been eagerly awaiting the blooming, visiting the greenhouse every day.

(I heard that it can wither without blooming, so we were really lucky.)

(It must be thanks to Emma's daily care.)

Emma: This plant is so tall. I'm worried it might break through the ceiling.

Emma is standing on her tiptoes, trying her best to see the flowers at the top.

(Ah, I see. Why didn't I notice sooner?)

Keith: Can you see them now?

Emma: Wow...!

Emma's face turns red as Keith lifts her up.

Emma: K-Keith...?

Keith: Oh, sorry. I thought you wanted to see the flowers up close.

Keith: But, I guess it was surprising to be lifted up like that. I wasn't being very considerate.

Emma: No, thank you. I was just a little startled. I'll take a deep breath.

Emma does as she says, placing her hand on her chest and taking a few deep breaths.

(Why is Emma so adorable?)

(No, I can't get carried away. Emma is trying to seriously observe the flowers.)

Emma: How long do these flowers bloom for?

Keith: They seem to bloom for about a month.

Keith: After that, the parent plant dies, so... in a way, this is their last moment of glory.

Emma: They're beautiful, but it's a little sad to think about it that way...

Keith: Speaking of which, "he" told me, "You're like a plant like that." I thought he was right.

Keith: No, I don't mean to say that I'm equal to a precious flower or anything like that.

Keith: But the way I said it just now makes it sound like that... I'm sorry for saying something misleading.

Emma: You're irreplaceable, Prince Keith, so I don't think it's a misunderstanding.

Keith: Huh...?

Emma looks at me with a blank stare, and I can't help but smile.

And since I'm holding Emma right now, I can't cover my mouth with my hand.

(...This isn't good. He's going to complain later that I'm using him to flirt.)

Keith: What he probably meant was that I hesitate for decades without budding,

Keith: and in the worst case, I might just wither away. The fact that I don't bloom is the same.

Keith: There are very few people who will patiently wait 100 years. Most people give up and forget.

(I used to think it was okay if I withered away without blooming.)

(I thought I would just give everything to him, who was already in bloom, since I would never bloom anyway.)

(At that time, I never thought I would meet someone so precious.)

Emma: ...But, because it only blooms once every 100 years, when it does bloom, it remains in people's hearts forever.

Keith: Huh...?

Emma: This flower will forever be etched in my heart as a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Emma: And if it continues to stay by my side forever,

Emma: I still think this flower is just like you, Keith.

Keith: ...............

(Emma, why are you so--)

Emma: Prince Keith?

Overwhelmed with emotion, Keith hugs Emma tightly.

Keith: Sorry, just for a little while...

Thump, thump, the sound of a calm heartbeat can be heard.

It's so comfortable that I want to stay like this forever.

(Emma... you made me bloom when I was about to wither away without blooming.)

(If I'm allowed, I want to continue blooming by your side forever.)

(Even if I wither and disappear, I will become a flower that continues to stay by your side.)

(And I swear to carry on my love for you.)

(I'm happier than anything just to have met you.)

Keith: ...I love you, Emma.

Emma: I love you too, Prince Keith.

Smiling against the backdrop of the yellow flowers, Emma looked like sunshine.

FIN

[razberrypuck]

tell us more about ur thoughts on swordfish :3

to gillion, caspian is charming and considerate and charming and very very patient with gillion. he admires caspian's magical abilities quite a bit, to the point of asking him to teach him what he knows. not to MENTION the fact that caspian alone is the reason gillion got to see his sister after his banishment. gill really does like him a lot, even if not in a romantic context -- but they really do just click, don't they?

and idk maybe it's just bc I like them, but the scene where they first met has more romantic chemistry than gill and any other person he's interacted with. like gillion was trying to get a room at a booked hotel, and caspian waltzes up to the desk like "actually me and my crew are checking out for the night" and the first thing. the FIRST thing he does to acknowledge gillion's existence is wink at him. gillion just stares at him until he goes to leave, and gill stops him at the door to ask for his name. HOW am I expected to be normal about that. GILLION wasn't normal about that. he hasn't stopped thinking about him since.

they were complimenting each other the whole tournament. they got piss drunk together afterwards. they talked on their callnch shells nearly every night for months, and consistently talked until the magical connection itself wore out. upon finding out that he hadn't gotten a gift in time for caspian's birthday (and being told it was completely fine) his #1 priority was buying something special for him. and let us not forget caspian making a fucking booty call joke (no I don't remember when this happened I just know that it DID)

like!!!! they both think they're so normal about the other, because gillion's never had a crush on anyone before and caspian flirts with everyone so it's normal. they are both wrong. these fishes GAY.

[limarieb]

when you're above feeling it still, tell me it's love (tell me it's real)

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You and Wanda have been dating for six months now, and it has been a constant feeling of bliss. When Wanda fails to acknowledge your anniversary, you feel quite heartbroken. Fortunately, your Sokovian barista of a girlfriend has an excellent reason for not showing up. (continuation of the "sweet" one-shot universe)

Warnings: none (a bit of angst, but then it's all fluff)

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: thank you all for being patient! i have been in the process of completing an 8 day work week... so, it's not very fun, but at least i am able to post this now! p.s., requests are open! (send anything — it makes work more tolerable lol)

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

Click here for Part 3 to the ‘Sweet’ One-shot Collection

...

Dating Wanda Maximoff has been nothing short of amazing; she has made the past six months considerably the best six months of your life.

Despite having little to no experience with people who were hearing impaired, she was able to quickly pick up on certain things with relative ease. She could easily read the meaning behind some of your body language and facial expressions: furrowed eyebrows meant you were confused, frustrated, or angry; clenched fists were a sign you were becoming (or already were) overstimulated and needed to be removed from the situation; or, Wanda’s personal favorite was your habit of taking her hand in yours and using your fingers to delicately play with the various rings that littered her own whenever you were anxious or simply wanted your girlfriend’s attention.

You initially were going to try wearing your hearing aids around her, but you both got used to you not wearing them — there was no point. You found little ways to communicate without any spoken language, ranging from little handwritten notes that Wanda leaves you (which you save all of them in a shoebox under your bed because you absolutely adore the heartwarming gesture) to simply typing in the notes app or on any electronic document for effortless methods of dialogue. Wanda was even able to pick up some signs here and there from spending so much time with you and your family. They were simple signs, such as ‘Hello’ , ‘How are you?’ , ‘Are you okay?’ , but — even so — you found it comforting that she would learn, remember, and utilize them when she could. Most people did not consider assuming the extra, albeit very little, effort.

She even developed and became a part of your ‘decompress’ routine. If you two were in a crowded space or a space you could not leave, she would take your hand and run a single digit down each of your fingers. Her finger would slowly and softly graze your own, grounding you within minutes. If you did have the opportunity to escape or be alone with her, she would wrap you in a tight hug from behind. Her arms would encircle your body around your ribs, and her legs would similarly trap your hips in place. Oftentimes, you both fell asleep during those moments; the comfort she brought you by wrapping you up tightly in her embrace, and the comfort you brought her simply by having you near was unbeatable.

Over the past month or two, you noticed some changes regarding Wanda. For instance, within the first month of you two being exclusive, you had her work schedule practically memorized like the back of your hand; thus, you found it odd when she would decline your request for dinner on account of “working late” later in the evening… when she wasn’t working.

Though you found it strange, you tried not to dwell on it. You didn’t want to come off as some jealous girlfriend stereotype and end up driving her away; at the same time, however, you cannot deny yourself that she was obviously keeping a secret from you. It hurt, but you wouldn’t say anything — at least, not yet.

The final straw came when you had planned a special evening for you two, given it was your six-month anniversary. You had never had a partner of any sort — you barely even had friends — so, this was something very special to you. You had waited for this date for weeks now, allocating every minute into perfecting the day for her. You were going to surprise her by making a romantic meal for dinner: paprikash (her favorite dish), candlelight, soft lights. You had prepared your bedroom for a marathon of her favorite sitcoms, which had taken you forever to find Dick van Dyke with accurate subtitles. And, if the night went well, then…

Unfortunately, you guess you’d never find out. She barely reached out to you that day, let alone come visit you for a date on your anniversary. It seemed as if she did not believe the day held the same weight as you, or she didn’t remember. Either way, it had you feeling down. You continued preparing the food and setting for the dinner whilst trying to remain calm, but your nerves were getting the better of you. You whip the phone out of your back pocket, thinking a quick text to her couldn’t hurt:

You [5:38 PM]

Hi, baby - free for dinner with me tonight?

Several moments pass before you get a response from her. As soon as you felt the vibration from your phone indicating a new message had come through, you practically jumped for it. Reading the message forced your slight smile into a frown.

Wanda <3 [6:03 PM]

Hi, Y/N… I don’t think I’ll be there in time :( I’ll come over after work, though? 8:30ish? Save me something good. ;)

While her flirtatious mannerisms — even over text messaging — would normally put you in a good mood, this text did the exact opposite…

Firstly, she barely calls you by your first name anymore. It was always some sickeningly sweet pet name like “baby,” “babe,” or “darling.”

Secondly, she didn’t even work today; she told you as much two weeks ago.

What was she hiding from you?

You couldn’t even muster up the energy to clean up the remnants of the failed dinner; instead, you elected to go upstairs to your room and sulk in a much-needed decompression session with your favorite knitted blanket — you try not to wish it was her helping decompress you.

Wanda waltzed into your home using the key you gave her for emergencies. The brunette hated lying to you, but she deemed it necessary, at least this once. 

She made her way past the kitchen and dining room, not without releasing an almost inaudible gasp about the sight before her: the empty dishes, the unlit candles, the food — her favorite food, because of course you would remember it and learn how to make it for her. She stepped on the worn floorboards with her toes, as if she were intruding on someone else’s special occasion; her eyes scanned her surroundings, but she failed to find you no matter where they viewed.

You had to have been there since your car was in the driveway, so Wanda decided to check upstairs next.

When she hesitantly opened your door, her gaze was met with your body laying on your bed. You were curled up in a ball facing away from her, wrapped up with the blanket. Unaware of her presence, you continued sniffling. The scene shattered Wanda’s heart into millions of pieces.

Deciding to finally let you know she was there, she went to kneel in front of where your head lay. Even when her absence is what caused your distress, it was her presence that currently brought you comfort. She tilted her head, which you recognized as her analyzing the situation before her. 

Before you could figure out a way to say anything, she lifted her left hand to hold the right side of your face. Instinctively, you pushed your cheek into her palm, seeking out as much of her comfort as possible. Then, she lifted her right hand. Instead of bringing it to you like with her left hand, she used it to sign:

Are you okay?

With that, your bottom lip trembled, and the dams holding all of the emotions relating to Wanda and her absence broke.

When you finally became calm enough to a point of reply, you simply stated with signs:

You weren’t here. Where were you?

You weren’t even sure if she’d completely understand, but she shockingly did:

I know. I’m sorry. I was working.

However, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew she was lying, so you shook your head and rotated your body to face away from her. Initially, you wished to avoid any confrontation, but with her here now in such a sympathetic state conflicting with what you know… it’s all so confusing and frustrating .

Although, Wanda would not give up. You were visibly in a state of distress, relating to something she did. Pushing her own sentiments aside for the moment, she placed her left hand on your shoulder. It allowed you to know she was still there — still trying — before she grasped it in order to pull you back to your original position. 

What is wrong, Y/N?

You shook your head again. 

No work.

Wanda’s eyes widened a bit, a result of confusion and nervousness of what you meant by that. She returned the phrase as a question to you with furrowed eyebrows, attempting to show confusion — she had to clarify what you were trying to say.

“No work?”  

This time, you nodded shakily. 

I know you didn’t work today. You said.

At this point, Wanda couldn’t lie anymore — even if it meant ruining the surprise that she had planned for you herself. She had to come clean.

You are correct. I did not work today. 

Honestly, you did not expect her to admit to it as quickly as she did. You raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue: 

For the past two months, I have been taking classes with the local college here after work. Sign Language.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen in shock; your girlfriend had never spoken in sign language for more than a few basic phrases. Even though there were a few errors made on her part, your heart couldn’t help growing a few sizes at what was happening before your own eyes.

Y/N, I wanted the first time I said this to be in your language. I wanted to learn for you. It was a surprise for our anniversary. I know I am late tonight, and I’m sorry. Class ran late tonight, and-

As it turns out, Wanda rambles in English and sign language. It made you smile, but you needed to hear what she had to say. You cut off her rambles with a quick peck of your lips to hers. It was short but reflected the abundance of intimacy in your relationship. You pulled away while maintaining the small smile, gesturing for her to hurry up and get to the point of this speech.

She took a deep breath, releasing it with a slight grin that came from your lips touching hers.

Happy anniversary. I love you, Y/N.

And, just like that, it felt like your lungs stopped. You weren’t sure if you’d ever felt such a feeling — such an unconditional love — before in your life. Some lone tears began to escape your eyes again, but this time the love of your life was there to wipe them with her thumbs.

I love you, Wanda. Happy anniversary. I want to marry you one day. 

Wanda, still being a novice to portions of sign language, did not capture the last part of your love declaration:

What was the last thing you said?

You gave her a smirk as your only reply. Guess she’ll have to take more classes , you thought.

The brunette rolled her eyes. You knew you’d (figuratively) be in trouble when she learned the sign for ‘marry’; for now, you just wanted to lay in your bed with her, your love.

End.

[j-onedrabbles]

Eyoo it's me again.

So, ace thought/idea:

You're newly dating someone in skz, and well one thing leads to another and you start making out. And it gets sorta heated and so you suddenly push him off and get anxious because you don't know how to explain that you don't want to have sex, because well you're not even sure yourself.

And you almost end up leaving and running of cause well, you're so scared cause you really like him but he manages to stop you and ask you what happened.

Yeah, hope it makes sense, it is yet again 2 am... What's new right?

✧   PAIRING: LEE KNOW X GN!READER ✧   CW: MAKING OUT, MENTIONS OF SEX, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, ✧   WC: 0.7K ✧   NOTE:

     Minho was a genuinely great person. Very considerate with everyone around him. That’s why Y/n liked him. He was always a gentleman to them whenever they hung out and went on dates. 

     Minho had kicked out the other boys in his dorm for a few hours so he and Y/n could have a peaceful night in. The two joked around and made dinner together before sitting down eating. Chatting about their week and possible future plans like trips and some things they had always wanted to do. 

     The dancer insisted on cleaning the dishes before the two retreated to the idols room. Spending the rest of their home date cuddling and watching movies. Pretty normal situation for the new couple, Minho having them pulled almost on top of him with one of his arms wrapped around them as they laid on his chest. 

     His hand ran up and down their arm mindlessly, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of their head. Until those kisses became consistent, moving down from the top of their head onto their face making them look up at him.

     “Hi kitten,” Minho smiled

     “Hi bub,” Y/n replied

     Minho turned on his side to face them before gently placing his lips on theirs. Y/n smiled into the kiss as they returned it. Both giggling in new love as Minho wrapped his arms around them and pulled them closer to his body. Y/n draped one arm over his shoulder and gently started playing with his hair. 

     Minho rolled onto his back and pulled them on top of him completely. Y/n placed their lips on either side of his hips to make themselves just a bit more comfortable, cupping his face in their hands too. His hands moved down to hold their hips as the kiss got more heated.

     Minho sat up which shocked Y/n a little but not enough to pull away. Slowly they felt his hands move lower to grip their ass and slowly start rocking them against him. 

     Y/n pulled away and gently pushed his shoulders back aso he didn’t chase their lips. “It’s getting late,” Y/n said as they slowly got off his lap. Minho followed them with his eyes, a bit confused

     “You alright kitten?” Minho followed them off the bed and out of the bedroom 

     “Yeah.” Minho picked up the hint of nervousness in their voice. He quickly got in front of them before getting to the front door.

     “What’s wrong?” He asked

     “Nothings wrong.”

     “Kitten, if I crossed a line, tell me.”

     Always a gentleman. That was Minho, joking around but always looking out for others. That’s why Y/n liked him so much. 

     “Can we sit and talk about it?” Y/n asked. Adulting meant talking about things, not getting scared and running away when you get scared. 

     “Of course,” Minho led them over to the couch. Sitting down and patiently waiting for them to talk. 

     “I’m sorry Min, but I just got a bit scared…”

     “Don’t apologize for it. We all have limits. Just tell me what yours are. I want to make us work,” Minho rested a hand on their knee and gave a reassuring squeeze. 

     Y/n took a deep breath and looked at their boyfriend “I’m asexual and things just seemed like they were going that way in the bedroom and that’s why I tried to leave…”

     “That’s when you don’t like sex? Right?” He asked, just to clarify.

     “I don’t experience much sexual attraction towards others.” 

     “At all?”

     “I don’t know honestly. I’ve never had much of a chance to figure out where I find myself on that spectrum.”

     “If you want to explore that side, I’m here to help. I’m not trying to preassure you kitten, just know if you want to—”

     “That I have you.” Y/n finished his sentace, smiling at how he was so calm and accepting of this information.

     “What are you comfortable with?” The idol relaxed back against the couch, moving his hand from their knee to hold their waist.

     “Everything we’ve been doing till now has been fine for me,” Y/n turned to him and laid against the couch, “Minus the grinding.”

     “Still okay with making out? Me grabbing your butt?”

     “Yeah. Just, be mindful?”

     “I’ll do my best,” Minho assured her, “If you feel like I’m crossing a line, tap me twice, okay? I never want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”

     “I appreciate it Min. A lot.”

     Y/n kissed his cheek as they wrapped an arm around him. Minho smiled and gave them a peck on the lips, “Wanna go back to cuddling? Till you actually have to leave.”

     “Yes please.”

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

T A G S ✧ @soulphoenix1618 @hanniemylovelyquokka @hyuneline @scarletbedlam @lillithathecat  @cosniffee @caravm @queen-in-the-shadows @moonlight-the-writer @skzhoes @ultimatestayandminoronce @watermelon2319 @poody1608 @iadorethemskz @goblinracha @weakforskz @scallywag1299 @2mins-world @iloveksmohsomuch @stickycrusadecollective @lacie220900 @your-platonic-gay-lover @lvlnijiro @smally97 @lynlyndoll @bbokari711 @liknws @nicora04 @hrskt @lookitsjess @5starlee @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @mini-mews @red-airhead @minhwa @soupbinlily @caitlyn98s @alex--awesome--22 @emyferra08 @yeetmehome @hyunjinswifeee @greyyeti @beautifulcolorgarden @ylixbok @tinyelfperson @mixtape-racha @lovesunshinefelix @princelingperfect @slay-and-gay @the-sweetest-rose 

© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[basmala260]

We need to talk more about Kagiura's feelings

One of the things that I really love about chapter 7 is how it shows how painful it is to love someone who had never and probably won't think about you

We as readers and people outside the frame know how things will play out, but looking at Kagiura's place, things are completely different, and I'm sorry but he's blind optimistic

Kagi always said he wanted a best friend relationship like his parents, but do all besties have to be family? He might have had to think about that at some point if he wasn't so optimistic

Kagiura believes that Hirano loves him but needs some time

The point is that he's not just patient, he didn't believe that Hirano may not love him except only for a very short while, and all his attempts at this touching thing are to convince himself of something

(I just want to make it clear that I don't hate that Kagi is hopeful and it's not something bad or out of the ordinary)

He keeps telling Niibashi everything because he knows he will tell him what he wants, he will give him hope, and I'm sure that Niibashi understand that, Always considerate of what he says, trying to offer advice and some hope, that DOESN'T mean that Niibashi is a bad friend surly, But don't we all do that? When we see our friends exhausted in a relationship, don't we try to give them hope? He just doesn't want to see this Shiny Boy sad

Probably one of the things that hurts me the most in the manga is how Hirano always treats Kagiura so sweetly and gently that it makes my heart personally melt (not to think about how the other person feels already)

He just can't reach him

What hurts Kagiura is not being able to touch him freely or not

What really hurts Kagiura that he can't get the look he wants to see at Hirano's eyes on him, the idea of being only " a good boy" and "a little brother" at his eyes no matter what he does

I love how this was pointed out in ch 23.5, As Kagiura said that in a moment of emotion These are things he wouldn't mention in normal times, he just carries a huge amount of pain that he can't get out, he doesn't desire Hirano as much as he desires Hirano's feelings

There's a line at "Picture you" by Chappell Roan that always reminds me of Kagiura "Am I in the frame from your point of view?" He's really pathetic since he doesn't even ask for Hirano to reciprocate his feelings, he just wants Hirano to start looking at him seriously

[laspocelliere]

Day Twenty: Duel

A lifetime in Ishgard had prepared Aymeric for colossal, impressive rooms. When he stepped into the palace of the Dawnservant, however, he couldn’t help the way he looked up, and up, and up, the enormous receiving chambers seeming to have no ceiling at all for how high it went. Torchlight flickered against the warm stone walls, and at the far end, the Dawnservant himself had sat, comfortable and patient, waiting for his invited guest to approach.

Gulool Ja Ja was a calm, authoritative figure on his throne, fingers drumming absently on the armrests, waiting with a bemused, parental smile as Aymeric came forward. A far cry, to be sure, from the cold, ultimate power that his father had once held in Ishgard, and the long, sharp shadows that he cast upon his unwanted son.

The Dawnservant, by contrast, seemed to look at him fondly, even without knowing him.

“So, stranger,” Gulool Ja Ja began, spreading his hands out in welcome. “I hear you have come to our shores in search of my daughter’s champion.”

How strange, to have her referred to in that way, Aymeric thought to himself as he tried to collect his words properly. The woman he had devoted life and limb to, the one who had his sword and his heart in equal measure, summed up in a manner that addressed neither her accomplishments nor her life at all. A handful of words that had nothing to do with her, and the impossibility that she was, and yet – it was all that anyone here knew her as. 

That, at least, was by design. Before she’d left for Tural, they’d discussed it at length. There was a new danger that came with her reputation after Ultima Thule; in particular, her apparent resurrection following the deliverance of the Star. Threats may have been eliminated, but that type of legendary status meant an open door for another instance to try and eliminate her now that she had, in theory, ‘let her guard down’. 

She would go, but she wouldn’t fight. She would watch, but she wouldn’t interfere. She needed to keep an eye on proceedings, that much they agreed; but nothing in Tural was worth the risk of drawing attention to what – and what – she really was.

Aymeric met the Dawnservant’s discerning gaze, and didn’t falter. “I am.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, like sunlight breaking over the sea, the Head of Resolve’s face broke out into a toothy, crooked, delighted grin.

“I see you, stranger,” he said, laughing merrily around his words. “No stranger at all! You are her consort.”

Bemused, Aymeric bowed before Tural’s exalted ruler. “I don’t think I’ve quite heard it put that way before,” he said, straightening. Amusement danced in his bright blue eyes. “I don’t dislike it.”

“She never said a word!” The Dawnservant slapped his knees happily, pushing himself to his feet. “I would have had a proper welcome for you, had I known.”

Aymeric’s smile softened, and the expression that had given him away to the sharp-eyed ruler was back when he spoke of his wife. “She’s not one to speak of her personal life.”

“Nor you either, I reckon!” Gulool Ja Ja looked down at the elezen man, seeming to size him up anew. “I am very curious to meet the man who our lauded champion has aligned me with.” With the light of a new idea, the Dawnservant’s toothy smile twisted ever-wider. “You know, I got to know her by challenging her to a duel.”

“Is that so?” Aymeric took stock of the leader before him; his power, his legacy, his considerable strength. “And did she land you on your back?”

The Dawnservant’s laughing guffaw was so boisterous, it nearly hit the rafters high above. 

“She did at that!” He admitted cheerily. “Not in my lifetime have I come across such a worthy opponent. She is strong and capable, your warrior.”

“Wife.” Aymeric’s correction was quiet, but the pride he held at being able to hold such a word in his mouth was something he couldn’t hide. “She’s my wife.”

Gulool Ja Ja’s smile didn’t falter, for all that it softened.

“Well then,” he said, slamming his fist into his opposite palm decisively. “If that is the case, I think you and I will need to duel as well, stranger. I have grown rather fond of our champion, you see. I would need to see that she has chosen herself a worthy consort.”

The delight in the Dawnservant’s tone was contagious, and Aymeric found himself smiling. “I would be honoured.”

“Wonderful! I will summon you again, and mind you bring everything you have; I will be holding you to a very high standard, stranger.”

“Aymeric,” he offered, bowing once more, Ishgardian courtesy running deep in his veins. The Dawnservant chuckled, and ducked his head reverently in return.

“Until we meet again, Aymeric.”

[emeritusemeritus]

(i’m the anon who submit the fred/angela/george thing)

the way you do fred/reader/george is good because the reader likes both of them and sees them as separate people. not like “i like one and the other is similar”. it’s acknowledged that they are different despite being so similar, and the reader isn’t written to like them JUST because they’re similar.

Hi anon, thanks for your kind words! I definitely agree with you and apparently I have some thoughts on the matter 😂🖤

A device I often use in the writing of twins x reader is that the reader is often the only one able to tell the twins apart, or at least most successful in doing so. This is something I noticed in the books, especially with Harry as he’s often the only one who can tell them apart- they are frequently nice and supportive of Harry and any other character that makes the effort not to treat them like one being. Anyone who dismisses them or treats them as a collective is often hounded or somewhat bullied.

I love the idea that the identical twins don’t look identical to the person that loves them (as is common according to partners of twins). I don’t see James and Oliver looking remotely similar anymore and can see their differences straight away so I imagine that if you cared and spent a lot of time with Fred and George, it would be the same.

I think in terms of writing, I use their natural identical looks to be the main focus for their ‘alikeness’ and their personality to be the differences. So I’ll mimic the whole ‘He’s not Fred I am’ or switching places/ jumpers as a nod to their similarities but their personality and how they interact with the reader is different (at least I always try for it to be).

My personal H/C for a relationship with both twins are…

George is sweeter, in all senses.

He’s a little more sensitive to the emotions of people around him, a little more shy to just come out and say what he feels (Fred is much blunter by default) and often spends time considering his words and actions beforehand.

Fred is more of a do first, think second kind of bloke, especially when it comes to trouble. Many times he’s been late to plans thanks to detentions because he couldn’t help himself, not thinking about the consequences.

George is the warm, welcoming hug at the end of a long day; the comfort and familiarity of someone you’ve known your whole life. The very sight of him is enough to grant you relief from the toil of a long day.

Fred is warm and comforting in his own way, the strong pair of arms that would protect you no matter what but a joke or a prank is never completely off the table.

George puts your feelings first, sometimes to the detriment of his own. He’s gentle and warm, considerate and loving. Calls you Angel all the time, but still uses your actual name endearingly.

Seems to have an endless supply of patience and very rarely loses his temper- never with you.

Fred is protective and quite possessive. He‘s the first to throw hands if you’re upset because of someone and always ready with just the right prank in retaliation, but sometimes it is quite literally fists. He doesn’t have an issue with sharing you, as long as it is only with George. Anyone else thinks they can get too friendly with you? Look into this telescope…

Fred is very touchy feely, always with his hand touching you in some way subconsciously, it’s like his little way of giving that physical affection when his words are joking/ blunt.

The banter would be unreal, always joking and playfully nipping at each other but it’s definitely from a place of love- even if it can sound harsh to other people. If the banter ever went away; that’s when to worry.

*NSFW*

I know I said George was patient.. BUT

He can also switch on to being very dominant in the bedroom, taking control and being a true dom, to the point you really, really want to call him daddy, just to see how he’d react. Even when you’re teasing him, he’s abundantly patient, allowing you to get yourself into deeper and deeper trouble.

Fred is tricky because as dominant as he could be, it’s not his natural way in the bedroom. It’s maybe the only time he lets George take the lead on anything, there’s definitely no competition to be the dominant alpha because it’s just not his style.

Teasing is actively encouraged in and out of the bedroom and he’d secretly love the torment- and inflicting it.

Let me know what you think!? 🖤

[theninthdoor]

hi, friends! long time no see 🖤 so, I'm posting this to (finally) give you guys some updates on the blog... it has been about 4? months since I last posted, and I didn't really think I would be coming back and continue on with the blog - due to personal matters, to put it simply. however, after some consideration, and because I do still work as a tarot reader irl, I decided that we could do with just changing things a little bit, so that I can keep on posting my content for those who are (still) interested in what I have to offer.

for my own personal reasons, again, I am now moving away from kpop-centered readings/posts/content - which is, obviously, the biggest change we're making, since that was the whole concept of the blog. I will still be taking some requests on kpop-related topics, like such: x, x, x. but that's about it. with this, and before I go any further, I just wanna say: it's totally fine if you decide to unfollow me based on this decision! I already expected it and respect that, 100%. that's just common sense. so please feel free to do as you wish - and whether or not you stay with us from now on, thank you for all the kindness and support you've left here so far 🤍 and as for what will be focusing on in the future… it should be pretty much anything that is pop culture related (celebrities, rumours, events, films, music, etc.) + some personal stuff for you guys (PACs, games, astro and tarot info, exchange readings, etc.).

now, what else… everything I have posted up until this point will stay on the blog! I'm not deleting anything, so you can always go back and read those posts, if you wish. and my services will be changing as well, but I will still be keeping some kpop-themed packs. I have no problem with that whatsoever, and I do enjoy doing those readings regardless.

once more, if this is (now) not the type of blog you want to be following or are interested in, please feel free to unfollow. your account, your tastes, your follows. that's just how it should go for everyone, and what I always encourage people to do. I'm making these changes because this is really the only way I am capable of continuining on this platform. I have built good relationships here, I am glad to be providing all of you with some knowledge and entertainment, and sharing my interests and work with others does bring me a lot of joy.

so thank you all so much for being around 🖤 thank you for always being so kind and patient, and respectful(!). for those who have booked readings with me through this platform, I am so so grateful for you. and for everyone who has reblogged, liked and shared my blog with others, a big big thank you. I owe you a lot. and I am truly grateful not only because of all the love I've received (which, as it seems, isn't a very common thing over here, unfortunately…), but also because it did help me a lot with gaining more confidence and discipline when it comes to my job as a tarot reader.

🤖 and to end this lengthy post... I gladly invite you to send me some asks with questions and topics you'd like me to read on - anything... whatever's happening in pop culture right now, celebrities, any new/old rumours that you might be curious about, etc. if I'm comfortable with it, I'll give it a try 🤍