#i find i am indeed. upset!

[septembersghost]

.

[ozzgin]

Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭

-H❤️

Yandere! Android x Reader (II)

Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.

Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel

[Part 1] | [More original works]

The case had been solved.

Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.

"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"

You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.

"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."

"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"

He pondered your statement.

"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."

You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.

Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?

"When are you leaving, actually?"

The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"

"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.

"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."

"Whether you can go back?"

"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."

You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.

"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.

"Because I want to continue spending time with you."

Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.

"I don't believe you."

"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."

"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?

"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"

"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"

You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?

"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."

You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.

On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.

You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.

His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.

You noticed his hesitation.

"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.

Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.

He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.

"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.

You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.

“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”

Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment. 

“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”

“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”

He processes your words.

“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”

You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.

“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”

You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers. 

“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”

“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”

“No, most data is sampled randomly.”

You stare at him, confused.

“Then how-”

“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”

“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”

The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.

“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”

Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.

You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...

Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.

[professionally-offended-hihi]

Tumblr decided to bless me with my sister's whole feed again and I have reached the conclusion that we are the perfect balance in the siblings-world because:

She is a colorful, straight A', working her ass off and achieving everything, "hot girls have stomach issues", older sister syndrome that has her shot together and will beat you up if she is given the opportunity, med field, Gordon Ramsey level of intense and rude if you don't do as she says and will have the world on her feet by the time she is 30.

And I am the younger siblings disaster, gender dysphoric idk who I am or what I'm doing, enraged student in social studies, screaming about theory and how everyone's a problem, very emo, trying to be goth but going back to being emo, screaming and crying and throwing up in arguments and maybe throw some accidental spitting in there as well but I will cry my most miserable tears if you tell me you're disappointed in me, trying not to go back to drinking whiskey and/or rum with my coffee, will look at you in the most gut-wrenching way if your political beliefs are anywhere near being right-wing, runs on either less than 4 or more than 9 hours of sleep and will probably have to study for another 20 years in my field in order to find a minimum wage job.

[evilminji]

Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:

"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)

Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.

So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.

God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.

Don't get why everyone's so upset.

Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.

And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.

Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!

There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!

Then? Danny showes up.

Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.

Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.

So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.

TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.

He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.

It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.

He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.

Right there.

IN THE WATCHTOWER.

In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.

People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.

Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...

And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."

N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.

Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?

NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.

Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.

Just? Marriage Meet Cute.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

[idkyetxoxo]

Daemon Targaryen - Rogue Desires

Summary - Under pressure to marry, she is drawn to Prince Daemon during a tourney. Despite her father's disapproval, their flirtation intrigues her. When Daemon proposes, she's torn, but his vow to win her hand ignites hope, after all, the rogue prince always gets what he wants.

Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x Hightower reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2172

Masterlist for Daemon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Remain with Alicent and our father up there, and do not stray," Gwayne commanded, his voice laced with both authority and concern as he meticulously adjusted his armor. Apparently, maintaining decorum fell to him.

I rolled my eyes, a habitual gesture of defiance. His instructions felt as suffocating as the armor he was so preoccupied with.

"And where else would I go, brother?" I retorted, meeting his disapproving gaze with equal stubbornness. "I am not a child; do not treat me as one."

Focusing on the final adjustments to Gwayne's armor, my fingers worked swiftly, tightening the straps to ensure everything was secure. As I finished, I felt an intense gaze on me, a tangible weight pressing down.

I glanced up to find Prince Daemon watching me from across the field.

Our eyes locked, and even as I turned to face him fully, his gaze remained fixed. A smirk slowly curled on his lips, clearly amused by our exchange. His presence lingered, unsettling even as I tried to shift my focus.

With a slight, resigned sigh, I turned back to Gwayne, tightening the final straps with a bit more force than necessary. The weight of Daemon's gaze lingered like a shadow as I moved to join Alicent and Rhaenyra.

"Sister!" Alicent greeted me warmly, enveloping me in a hug as soon as I appeared before her.

"It's been quite some time since we were last reunited," she remarked, to which I responded with a sweet smile.

"Indeed, my dear. I hope you've been well. Has Rhaenyra been keeping you out of trouble?" I asked, casting a glance at the princess nearby, her presence a comforting constant.

"It's more so me keeping her out of trouble," Alicent chuckled, prompting Rhaenyra to scoff playfully.

"If that's what you'd like to believe," she retorted, and the three of us shared a genuine moment of laughter.

As I surveyed the box, my gaze met our father's. Despite my efforts to maintain composure, my expression soured.

"Father," I greeted him with forced politeness. His nod of acknowledgment was devoid of warmth, his face a mask of neutrality concealing a myriad of unspoken expectations and disappointments.

Sighing, I settled down beside Alicent and Rhaenyra.

"He's still upset," I murmured quietly, my attention drifting to the announcements for Prince Daemon's match, which I observed with forced interest.

"He's not upset," Alicent countered optimistically, her unwavering positivity attempting to soften the sting of our father's disapproval.

"He's angry," I corrected her in a hushed tone, feeling the weight of his unspoken reproach settle like a stone in my chest. "Angry that his eldest daughter remains unmarried and childless. He believes my time is running out, that I'll end up alone."

"You will not end up alone," Rhaenyra interjected firmly, her voice filled with conviction as she sought to reassure me. "Any nobleman would be fortunate to have your hand." Her words were kind and well-intentioned.

I returned her smile gratefully, though the weight of my father's expectations lingered heavily in my thoughts.

The joust began, and Daemon and my brother clashed fiercely, the contest ending with Gwayne being carried away, his face marred by dirt and blood. Triumphant, Prince Daemon rode towards the royal box where Alicent, Rhaenyra, and I stood.

As Daemon approached, he smiled up at us, his eyes lingering on me, the unfamiliar face among familiar company. He spoke with playful curiosity.

"I do not recall your name, my lady," he remarked, his gaze twinkling.

"That is because I have never given it to you," I replied with a sly smile, feeling a gentle press from Alicent on my arm and hearing Rhaenyra's amused chuckle beside me.

Daemon's expression shifted to one of impressed amusement at my boldness.

"I am the sister of the knight you just callously defeated," I added, meeting his gaze.

"Lady Hightower," he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes gleaming with admiration. "Well then, I would like to request your favor. I am certain I will not need the luck, but I would love to have it," he said with a roguish grin.

I turned to retrieve the wreath, aware of my father's disapproving glare. Avoiding his eyes, I cleared my throat and confidently took the wreath.

Walking back to Daemon, I placed it on his lance with deliberate grace.

"I wish you luck, rogue prince, though I'm sure you will not need it," I said with a wink, my tone teasing yet sincere, as I returned to my seat. Daemon beamed up at me, clearly amused.

The joust continued, culminating in Ser Criston Cole's victory. The crowd erupted in cheers as he dismounted and approached the royal box, his eyes fixed on Rhaenyra. With a graceful bow, he requested her favor, and she obliged, placing her wreath on his lance.

As the festivities wound down, we began to shuffle out of the royal box towards our chambers. Walking alongside my sister and the princess, the fatigue of the day began to catch up with me.

"It has been a long journey," I admitted with a soft sigh, stifling a yawn. "I'm quite tired. I'll see you both later, perhaps," I added, bidding them goodnight as we parted ways.

With that, I took my leave and headed toward Alicent's chambers, where I would be staying. My mind wandered, lost in thought, as I absentmindedly tugged at a loose thread on my sleeve.

Suddenly, I collided with someone, nearly losing my balance.

"Prince Daemon," I gasped as he caught me, his hands steadying me around my waist. "Lady Hightower," he replied smoothly, his hands lingering on my waist.

"I'm afraid my favor wasn't much help in your outcome today," I teased, biting my lip playfully as I looked up at him, our faces now mere inches apart.

"I was merely distracted during the match," he countered with a mischievous glint in his eye, amusement dancing in his voice.

"Distracted?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief, though secretly thrilled by his admission.

He nodded, his expression both earnest and teasing. "There was quite an intriguing lady watching me today," he confessed, his tone playful yet sincere.

A blush crept up my cheeks despite my efforts to maintain composure. "What was so intriguing about her?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light and casual.

Daemon chuckled softly, the sound resonating deep within me. "She had a sharp wit and a bold spirit. Quite captivating, honestly," he replied, his gaze fixed on mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat.

I glanced away, suddenly feeling bashful under his scrutiny. "Well, I suppose you should have been paying more attention to your opponent," I quipped, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.

His smile widened, a hint of admiration in his eyes as he continued to hold my gaze. "Perhaps," he conceded, his voice low and intimate. "But some distractions are worth the risk."

The flutter in my chest grew stronger as I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn't anticipated.

"Unhand my daughter this instant!" a voice called out, startling me. I jumped, pushing Daemon's hands off me and stepping back hurriedly.

My father emerged from the shadows, his face a mask of disapproval. Daemon's jaw tightened, his earlier playfulness evaporating.

"What do you think you're doing, allowing someone like him to sully you?" my father demanded, his voice sharp with anger.

"Father, it's not what you think," I began, my voice trembling, but he cut me off sharply.

"You know better than this," he continued, his voice rising. "You remain unmarried despite your age, and now you give people an opportunity to question your virtue."

Hot tears pooled in my eyes as his words cut deep, the humiliation and frustration of the day boiling over, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"Lord Hand," Daemon interjected firmly. "There is no need for such harshness. I assure you, your daughter's virtue is intact."

My father glared at Daemon, his eyes narrowing. "Your assurances mean little to me, Prince Daemon. You are known for your reckless behavior. I will not have my daughter associated with such scandal."

"Father, please," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Nothing inappropriate happened. We were just talking."

"Talking?" my father scoffed. "It looked far more intimate than mere conversation."

"Lord Hand," Daemon said again, stepping forward. "I understand your concerns, but I assure you, my intentions are honorable."

"Honorable?" my father sneered. "Your reputation precedes you, Daemon. I will not allow you to drag my daughter into your debauchery."

The tension between them was palpable, and I felt trapped between their opposing forces. Desperation clawed at me as I searched for a way to diffuse the situation.

"Please, can we discuss this calmly?" I implored, looking from my father to Daemon. "There has been a misunderstanding, and I would like to clarify it."

My father looked at me, his anger still evident. "Very well," he said coldly. "We will discuss this in private. Prince Daemon, I expect you to keep your distance from my daughter."

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving no room for argument. I cast a quick, apologetic glance at Daemon before following after my father, my heart heavy with dread.

As we walked, my father's words echoed in my mind, each one a painful reminder of the expectations and limitations placed upon me.

The encounter with Daemon, which had felt like a fleeting moment of excitement and possibility, now seemed tainted by my father's harsh judgment.

Once we reached the privacy of Alicent's chambers, my father turned to me, his expression stern.

"You must be careful," he admonished. "Your actions reflect not just on yourself, but on our entire family. You cannot afford to be so careless."

"I understand, Father," I replied, my voice shaking. "I did not mean to cause any trouble."

"Remember your place and your duty. This family's honor rests on your shoulders as much as anyone else's. Do not forget that," he reminded me.

With those final words, he left me alone in the room, the weight of his expectations pressing down on me. I sank onto the edge of the bed, feeling the sting of unshed tears. The night had taken its toll, leaving me emotionally drained and unsure of what the future held.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The next day, much to Alicent and Rhaenyra's dismay, I spent most of my time wallowing in my chambers. Their persistent urging finally broke my resolve.

"Give me some time to get dressed, then I'll join you in the gardens," I said, my voice tinged with exhaustion.

"Do you swear it?" my sister asked, her eyes full of skepticism. I nodded, and they both left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

With a heavy sigh, I rose and began to prepare myself. I combed through my hair, pinning it back with a single braid that elegantly crossed the crown of my head. Slipping into a simple green dress adorned with gold beading, I tried to muster the strength to face the day.

As I walked slowly through the gardens, I spotted him in the distance. Daemon turned in my direction, and I instinctively looked down, quickening my pace to avoid him.

"Lady Hightower," he called out, his voice commanding and impossible to ignore. I paused, my breath catching as he effortlessly closed the distance between us.

"I do not think this is wise, Prince Daemon," I said, my voice trembling slightly. He scoffed, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"So now you cannot even speak to me?" he asked, his tone laced with irony. I finally looked up, meeting his gaze.

"My father was right; it is inappropriate. If I wish not to remain unmarried, I cannot spend my time like this," I explained, trying to sound resolute. He paused, considering my words.

"Then marry me," he proposed suddenly, and I almost choked on my breath.

"What?" I managed to stammer, disbelief evident in my voice.

"Marry me," he repeated, a confident smile playing on his lips as if he were merely discussing the weather.

"My father would never allow that," I said, shaking my head firmly, trying to dismiss the idea, yet the thought lingered in my mind like a tantalizing dream.

He scoffed again, waving away my concerns. "I am a prince; there is no better match I can think of," he replied, his arrogance evident.

"And what if I do not wish to marry you?" I challenged, though a part of me already knew the answer.

He laughed, a deep, knowing laugh. "Then you would not have spent this long standing before me," he said, his smile widening as he saw the truth in my eyes.

I bit my lip, considering his words. "If you can get my father to agree to the match, then I will agree as well," I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips.

Daemon smirked, his eyes alight with determination, a glimmer of triumph shining within them.

"The prince always gets what he wants," he said, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my skin. "And this time, what I want is you."

A warmth spread through me at his bold declaration, the intensity of his gaze holding me captive. "You really think it will be that easy?" I teased, my voice softening into playful intrigue.

"Nothing worth having ever is," he replied.

A/n - Otto Hightower is off seething somewhere

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Your Birthday Is So Special !

You don't really celebrate your birthday it tends to just be another day for you. You've gone as far as to forget your own birthday some years and since you never mention your birthday it's almost a mystery. The LADS Men want to show you how special your birthday is since if that day never happened they wouldn't be looking at the love of their life. What would they do to celebrate your birthday? A/N: Ms. "I don't care about my birthday" meets Mr. "Your birthday is so special" [Requested by: miacara2]

Zayne

Zayne would take the day off for your birthday. I'm not talking he just so happened to have the day off. No. This man would do what he needed to do to get the day off just for your special day. Since he is you primary care physician your birthday is on file so he's aware of it even without you telling him.

He would have spoken to Jenna days or weeks prior to get you out of work by noon without being suspicious. You would come out of the building to find him standing there with a box of your favorite sweets and treats. "What are you doing here? What's all this?" You'd question with a giddy smile on your face; seeing Zayne unexpectedly was always a serotonin boost.

"Are you free this afternoon?" He'd ask avoiding your questions while flashing that cute half-millimeter smile of his, but his eyes would dance with mischief. "I am?" You'd furrow your brows in confusion. He'd intertwine his fingers with yours and take you to do whatever your little heart desires for the day. Once you're exhausted from the day he would offer to take you home.

This is where your real surprise would be. He would have your countertops covered in gifts and sweets along with a beautiful cake. "Zayne....when did you do this?" He would definitely stand there relishing in your shocked face. "It took all morning, but it was more than worth it" You couldn't help but hug him tightly you never thought you'd actually be happy to celebrate your birthday.

"Happy Birthday My Love let's celebrate together every year from now on"

Rafayel

Rafayel would be simply appalled at the fact you don't celebrate your birthday. "What do you mean it's just another day!?" He asked wide-eyed. "It's just not important" He would be so upset to hear you talk about your birthday like that. To him your birthday is like a national holiday there's no way he could let the sun take another trip around the earth without celebrating.

Rafayel: When is it? MC: I'm not telling you Rafayel: If you dont tell me I'll just figure it out MC: Good luck

He was indeed able to figure it out. How? Let's just say he has connections if he wants information he'll get it. He'd waste no time planning a whole day for the two of you. I picture Rafayel wanting to give you that childlike gleeful birthday that you never had growing up. He'd take you to an arcade or amusement park or even a fair/night market and would tell everyone it's your birthday "It's this pretty girls' birthday today!"

Now Although Rafayel is indeed a silly little guy he is very sentimental. At the end of the night he'd take you to an exhibit he rented out for just the two of you. It would be covered in his painted portraits of you along with candid photographs. Each one would have a gift or your favorite sweet perched on a cocktail table underneath it. "Why would you do this?" You asked in shock. "Because a special girl deserves to be treated as such especially on her special day Happy Birthday Cutie"

Xavier

He's used to forgetting his own birthday since he never considered it very special. Though something stirred in him when he overheard Simone, Tara, and Lisa asking you what you wanted to do for your birthday. You seemed to brush them off with a sweet smile saying "Nothing it's not a big deal just treat it like any other day" They all huffed and puffed at your words as you scurried off saying you had some research to do.

"We need to do something for her birthday she works so hard!" Tara said in a whisper-shout to Lisa and Simone. Xavier would barge into the conversation his lips moving before his brain could catch up "Can I be of service in this secret plan?" Contrary to popular belief Xavier would end up spearheading all the planning. He would want your girls to be involved since he sees how much they love you and how much you love them.

He would have you spend the day with your girls and the night with him. Your girls would be there right when you wake up screaming happy birthday in your face. They would take you to get your hair and nails done along with a little lunch date and shopping spree. You would be all dolled up and pretty by the time they dropped you off at home where Xavier was waiting with music, gifts, flowers and a cake. I also imagine since he is the one who taught you how to dance he would take you to a beautiful garden where he would dance the night away with you like Cinderella.

"I know I said birthdays were nothing special, but yours is and I want to spend every year with you. Happy Birthday My Lady"

Sylus

Sylus is not letting your birthday pass without a proper celebration. First of all he's taking you out the country for sure. That beautiful island you've been looking at? Yup he got a villa on it and flies you down there on his private jet so you have the utmost comfort. "Where are we going?" You'd ask as he escorts you up the stairs onto the plane. "Somewhere special" His answer was nonchalant as he poured you a glass of wine. "What's the occasion?" he would glance at you and let his beautiful smile spread across his face as he slipped the glass into your hand "Something special" You scoffed at his answer.

Although you never mentioned when your birthday was of course Sylus did his research. He planned for months to make your surprise perfect. You would land and walk into the villa fully decorated with balloons, all your favorite foods, a desert bar with a cake, and flourishing with gifts. Even the twins would already be there jumping out at you to yell surprise.

Sylus would make your birthday into a full weeklong celebration/vacation. "You overdid it you know? My birthday really isn't that important" Your words end up going in one ear and out the other. You were his special girl everything involving you was special especially your birthday. Otherwise how would he be able to smile in this drab world if you weren't here?

"That's why I've made it my mission to show your otherwise" He'd smile down at you and flick your forehead. "Happy Birthday Princess"

[inkedbybarnes]

anything

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky is determined to take care of you while you're sick.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: mentions of insecurities, mentions of illnesses (but vaguely described), fluffy ahh shit bc why not, usage of pet names such as baby and doll. bucky being stubbornly sweet (it is indeed, a warning), lowercase writing.

i've been sick the past few days hence the creation of this fic. idk why my mood drops when i'm sick... once again, this is too fluffy even for my own good but i warned you and you're reading it still anyway. 🤨 haha jk, i hope you enjoy this one! 🩷

dividers by @cafekitsune!

reblogs, comments, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡

“can you please let me in, baby?"

that was the fifth time bucky had asked the same question, never giving up on his mission to take care of you after learning from jarvis – out of all people... or robots? – that you were sick.

“bucky, i promise, i'm fine. stop trying to break the door,” you answered, your clogged nose not helping as you sounded horrible even with a concrete wall separating you from him. “go and tell steve that you're joining the mission. you can't withdraw yourself just because i'm—achoo!”

your nose began to leak, and you were now distracted with the need to find the tissue box that used to be on your bed. you didn't hear the door clicking open as well as the heavy footsteps of a certain soldier walking towards you.

“just because you're what? sick?”

you jumped, feeling the edge of the bed sink with his weight. you quickly grabbed the tissue box that was mysteriously thrown under the bed before facing bucky with the duvet covering most of your body.

“how did you open the door?”

bucky shrugged. “i broke the doorknob. you didn't say anything about breaking doorknobs.”

you sighed, not winning this argument with bucky. “you shouldn't be here, bucky. you're supposed to be preparing for a mission tomorrow, not babysitting me!”

“and let you go through this on your own? tough chance, doll. i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, and don't tell me that you're worried about getting me sick because we both know i'm immune," he argued, reaching out and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal your face. “are you really upset that i want to take care of you? you should be demanding things from me, baby. instead you've been hiding from me.”

“because i don't need anything, bucky. i can handle myself just fine." you huffed, knowing you wanted his attention and care so badly. remembering your face was exposed, you felt insecure again. you dragged the cover back up and turned away. “i also don't want you to see me like this.”

“like what?"

“like a mess," you muttered underneath the sheets. “you've never seen me like this before, and i swear i am the worst when i'm sick. you don't have to see me like this, okay? i don't want you to.”

you felt silly. it was completely normal to get sick, but you hated how extreme your body would act out whenever an illness would attack you. you'd always sound and look like you were fighting a battle in hell alone. the way your mind would take an entire flip and drag you to your lowest point didn't help either. so, not only were you feeling physically horrible, you were also struggling mentally.

“a mess? what mess?” he asked, lifting the cover to join you underneath it which caught you off guard. you were entirely exposed to his eyes now. “there's my girl. where's the mess that you're talking about, huh?”

with the little amount of energy left in you, you brought your hands up to cover your face. he could see how much of a mess you were now, far from the dream you've painted since the day you dated him. now, you were nothing but a nightmare of your reality.

“don't you dare hide from me. i haven't seen you all day and it's driving me insane," he complained, pulling your hands away from yourself. he brought his thumb to your teary eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fall. “i can't believe you're hiding from me just because you think i can't handle seeing you sick. what did you think i'd do once i saw you like this?”

you sniffed, hesitation holding you back from telling him the truth. it's only been three months since you've started dating bucky, and you were still in that stage where you'd constantly try impress him.

you weren't faking yourself, no. however, you still did your best to only show your good side and tuck away your insecurities. unfortunately, you had to get sick too soon and have to risk bucky seeing you this way.

“you thought i'd leave you? won't like you anymore? get turned off or something?”

you nodded, knowing that was exactly what went through your head and a bit pissed that he was able to read your mind without actually having the power to do so.

bucky's eyes softened at your confession, letting out a soft sigh as he saw how badly you were beating yourself up.

“if it's because of how you look right now, then it's true. you do look different," he answered, your chest tightening. “your eyes lost their glow, you're frowning more often, your eyes are all puffy, you are definitely grumpier than usual, your lips are dry and chapped from—”

“okay, i get it, bucky! you don't have to rub it in my fa—”

“but i won't be doing whatever is on your mind. you're sick, doll. it'll affect you. it's normal. hell, i look even worse when i used to get sick, but you? you still look so fucking lovely." he held your face gently, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “even then, i don't give a fuck on how messy you can get. i'm your boyfriend. i should be taking care of you, helping you feel better, and bringing back the glow in your eyes. please, baby. let me take care of you.”

this time, you were looking back at him. "you mean it?"

"of course I mean it," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "i love you, doll. i don't care how you look like right now. you could look like a swamp monster and be sick as a dog, and i would still think that you are the most beautiful woman for me."

you giggled softly, his words filling you with warmth and reassurance. you felt so lucky to have a man who truly loved you and handled your insecurities with such understanding and care, and even sillier for thinking he'd leave you for such reasons.

“thank you. that really made me feel better," you told him, your arms slowly creeping forward to hold him. “i'm sorry for hiding. i was just scared to turn you off or anything.”

“are you kidding? i'm trying my best not to hold you down and kiss you all over. i haven't even hugged you for a day,” bucky said, a pout on the verge of forming on his face.

“it hasn't even been a day, bucky. now, who's dramatic?" you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “and you're supposed to be on a mission tomorrow! are you really not going?”

“when i could be here taking care of you?” he asked, as if the answer was already obvious. “the others can handle it. my main priority is to do anything you want and make you feel better.”

“anything?”

he smiled, leaning down to let your lips meet softly. "anything."

( a lil bonus < 3 )

“what is that smell?”

sam, steve, and natasha entered the compound after a quick briefing for their mission tomorrow. they joined tony and clint who were having a casual conversation in the living room about the best burrito in town.

the kitchen was an open space, the aroma of whatever bucky was cooking spreading all around the nearby rooms.

sam didn't hesitate to come closer and inspect the kitchen, finding the entire counter lined up with various spices and plates that bucky filled with his dishes.

“what's the occasion? did i miss something?" sam asked, grabbing a fork to take a little taste until bucky slapped his hand away. "ow! what was that for?"

"hands off." bucky warned, frowning at sam. “that's not for you, wilson."

“not even a nibble? come on, man. it smells amazing!”

their usual bickering caught the attention of the other avengers, immediately joining them in the kitchen which annoyed bucky even more when he saw them eyeing the food he made.

"before any of you try to ask, no. this is not for any of you."

"who's it even for?" natasha asked, the least interested to have a taste, but was curious either way.

bucky answered with your name. "she's sick."

"what? since when?" clint asked, worry flashing across his face. "can we do anything?"

bucky glanced up before hesitantly answering. "well.. she did say she wanted to watch a movie after eating."

clint snapped his fingers and smiled. "i'm on it."

"i'll get jarvis to check on her vitals every hour and create a diagnosis," tony said, already tapping on his smart watch. "assuming she wouldn't be too comfortable letting the entire team know what's going on with her body, i'll just let you receive the updates. just update me with what you can, yeah?"

"i'll talk to fury and let you both have a week free from work," steve offered. "she needs the rest and she needs you."

"oh, i'll handle fury. he can't say no to his favourite," natasha said with a smug smile. "tell her i'll bring her all her favourite snacks once we're back from our mission, and that she better be back to full health so we can go out together."

bucky nodded, chest warming with the genuine concern they shared. he was excited to let you know how loved and deserving of all this you were.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[rninies]

✮ silly love

౨ৎ scaramouche x reader. fluff, gn!reader, scara's a tease here lol, modern!au — wc: 647

notes. scara fic for my bday :3

“so, what's going on between you and scaramouche recently? you guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden.” one of your friends suddenly asks and you choked on the french fry you were eating, quickly drinking some water.

“what?”

“you heard me.” your friend gives you a knowing smile. “what’s going on between you and scaramouche? last i heard, he hates talking with people and now he’s all sweet and cute with you.”

your face turns red. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about. besides, he’s opening up to more people! it’s not just me he’s talking with.”

your friend hums. “mm, then why is he walking this way with a scowl on his face?”

“what-?” you turned your head and they were right. scaramouche is indeed walking here with a scowl on his face. “scara? what’s wrong-”

“i thought you promised we were going to eat lunch together.” scaramouche cuts you off swiftly, sitting down next to you and placing his tray on the table. your friends could only watch in amusement as you tried to find an excuse to calm scaramouche down.

“w-well, i couldn’t find you when class ended! i didn’t want to sit alone like a loser waiting for you to come.” you said with a nervous laugh at the end. “besides, aren’t you bored eating with me every single day?”

“who said i would get bored of you?” scaramouche replies, grabbing a french fry and eats it. he looks at you with a confused look on his face. “why would i get bored of you?”

“you’re saying that as if you have a crush on me.” you let out a laugh, doubling over, smacking your hand on the table as if you said the funniest thing in the world. when you don’t hear a snarky remark from scaramouche, you stop laughing. your friends whispered to each other and quietly left the table, leaving you and scaramouche alone. “you-”

“i’m going to need you to stop for one second because i just find it so incredibly rude that you think i’m not head over heels in love with your stupid, oblivious ass.” scaramouche glares at you, obviously upset. “are you a brick? because you’re dense as fuck.”

your mouth hangs open, still clearly shocked from the sudden confession. “you- what?! when did you start having a crush on me?”

“do i have to explain in detail why i’m in love with you?” he asks, pushing his tray forward. he places his elbow on the table, his hand supporting his head. “well? are you just going to continue to gape at me or are you going to say anything else?” you instantly snap back into reality, clearing your throat.

“ahem,” you fiddled with your thumbs, nervous. “i thought you were the type to not fall in love with anyone.” you avoided eye contact, looking at everything except scaramouche.

scaramouche raises his eyebrows, obviously amused by your nervousness. “what, am i not allowed to have feelings? am i just a puppet to you?”

“okay who said-” you lift your head only to bump your nose against scaramouche’s. you stopped what you were saying, eyes meeting his. scaramouche’s lips slowly turns into a smile and he eventually lets out a laugh, quickly snapping you back to reality. “stop distracting me!”

“what do you mean?” scaramouche asks in a teasing tone. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. me? distracting you? doesn't sound like me at all!”

“haha fuck you.” you glared at scaramouche, picking up your tray, preparing to leave. “i’m leaving. have fun eating alone.”

“wha-” scaramouche quickly gets up, following you. “hey you haven’t replied whether you like me back or not!”

you turned back, giving him a cheeky smile. “you think?” you winked and turned your back to him, not giving scaramouche a chance to reply.

he scoffs. “this brat.”

[elihermit]

Evan Buckley x female reader

His girlfriend gets into a car crash and he has to try and save her, he goes to the hospital with her and waits by her bedside for her to wake up. She ends up being paralysed from the waist down and when she wakes up and finds out she struggles to cope with it, she has physical therapy to try to regain her strength but she gets upset so buck tries to comfort her and helps her through it, when they get out of hospital he knows this is their new normal and he is positive and tries to support her. Please include lots of angst and fluff 🥹🫶 thank you xx

eternal sunshine

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: After a serious car crash, your lower body is paralyzed. You find it very hard to cope with, but Buck is not going to give up on you. Can you accept it?

word count: 2,4k

author’s note: thanks to an anon for this request, that’s a very special fic indeed, I hope you like it!

p.s. requests are open🫧

“(Y/N), I need you to stay awake. Please try for me, darling.” — you can hear Hen's voice, but it sounds like an echo. It's hard for you to stay conscious, you're gathering all your strength not to fall asleep, even though it sounds very tempting.

“Hen, I don’t feel my legs.” — panic rises in your throat, you feel sick. “Where’s Buck?”

Buck didn't have a shift today, but you were glad that familiar faces came to your rescue. You could trust them and not be afraid if something went wrong.

“We already called him, (Y/N), he’s on his way.” — at the same time, they took you out of that damn car and put you on a stretcher. You still couldn't feel your legs, but honestly, you couldn't feel your whole body. You were so afraid that fear paralyzed you. It’s probably normal.

You were carried to the ambulance, you felt that a couple more minutes and you would pass out. But you need to at least wait for Buck, he'll be so worried if he finds you unconscious.

“(Y/N)!” — you heard Buck's worried voice and felt his touch on your arm. He made it.

“Hey baby, I’m oka-“ — you couldn't finish the sentence, fatigue and fear took over and you blacked out.

You open your eyes already in the hospital. The bright light blinds your eyes and makes your head hurt even more. You didn't know how long you were lying like that, but your body was very numb.

“Hi, my love, welcome back.” — you hear Buck’s voice and turn your head in his direction. He's smiling at you, but his red and puffy eyes said he was crying.

You smile back at him and take his hand. You're just glad that it's finally over and you can recover. You close your eyes for a couple of seconds and exhale. You got out of this alive.

You open your eyes and the smile leaves your lips. You try to move your legs, but nothing works, you don't feel the whole lower part of your body. Panic engulfs your lungs and you start breathing faster.

“Buck, I can’t move my legs.” — your voice breaks and tears fill your eyes. You knew it was a bad sign when you were still at the scene of the accident.

“Shh, baby, you’re fine, breathe with me.” — Buck looks at you with a smile and tries to calm you down.

“I don’t need to breathe, tell me what’s going on.”

He looks at you and goes silent. He had hundreds of scenarios in his head about how he would tell you about it, but seeing how scared and confused you are, he just can't pronounce these words. He doesn't want to disappoint you.

But you didn't need to hear any words, everything was written on his face and it hurt more than any physical pain. A cry came out of your mouth. A terrible cry that turned into a scream. All the pain and all the resentment against yourself for getting in the car that damn day was reflected in this crying. Your whole body was shaking from how much you were crying. You were screaming. Buck pulled you into his arms and just held you. He's never seen you so lost and devastated, but he kept saying you weren't alone.

“Buck, what am I going to do? What are we going to do?” — you were able to tell between sobs.

You felt like you were suffocating and it was all becoming hysterical. Nothing will be the same as before. You'll be a burden, you won't be able to give Buck what you could have given him if you hadn't been paralyzed. Your life will be limited.

“We’re gonna fight, baby. And we will go through this as we have gone through all the difficulties before, okay?” — you shook your head in disagreement and turned away from him.

You can't look into Buck's eyes. You cannot accept that you will change not only your life, but also his. You would like to say that you are ready to fight, but you are not. You weren't ready for this and you don't know when you'll be ready.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” — he spoke softly and gently turned your head so that you could look at him. “Our best solution is physical therapy. You have every chance to gain your strength and get back on your feet. I've already talked to the doctors, just trust me.”

“But it can take years. I don't want you to waste your years like this.” — it's true, you'd rather let him go than drag him along, you'll be completely dependent on him.

“My years will be wasted if you're not by my side. Not for one second did I think to leave you in this. This is our fight.” — Buck reaches for your lips and leaves the most tender kiss. There is so much care and love in this kiss that you have no choice but to believe him.

4 months later

Your life consists of a hospital and constant physical therapy sessions. You're tired and exhausted, but you've never been the type to give up quickly.

When you felt that you were going off the path and starting to move in the opposite direction, Buck was there to take your hand and put you back on the right path. He was always smiling, supportive, and proud of your little victories more than you are. For you, these were not victories, but reminders that there is still a lot of work ahead.

Today was another physical therapy session and you finally convinced Buck that you'd be fine without him. He did not miss a single session and because of this he could take fewer shifts at work. You knew that he loves his job and that's literally what energizes him better than any coffee, so today you sent him to work.

But Maddie was with you today, Buck couldn't leave you all alone, even though the doctors at the hospital became your family.

Everything was going well, you did the usual exercises, your therapist gave you a massage of the lower extremities between exercises, then you switched to special simulators.

“Look how good you’re doing, your progress is wonderful.” — you heard Maddie behind your back and froze.

It triggered something inside you. All 4 months you tried to be strong, not to show how desperate you are on dark evenings. You didn't want to be pitied, you wanted to be treated without much distinction.

But everyone behaved around you as if you needed to be coddled. They think they're helping you, but it just reminds you of your condition every time.

And you don't see any fucking progress. What are you doing that is so amazing? You don't run, you don't dance, you don't even walk, you just take little clumsy steps. How dare they call it progress.

“Okay, that’s all for today.” — you still had 20 minutes of the session left, but you didn't feel like finishing it.

“Why? Are you in any pain?” — your therapist asked with a concerned look and stood in front of you.

“No, I just don’t want to do it anymore, so don’t push me.” — you said it and clenched your jaw. You could feel anger filling your body and you wanted to get back to your room before you started snapping at everyone.

You heard the door open and saw Buck. What the hell is he doing here? He's supposed to be at work, but instead he's back here and he's going to babysit you.

“How’s my baby doing?” — Buck squatted down to be on the same level with you and gave you the sweetest smile.

“What are you doing here?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were so annoyed that you needed to calm down. The last thing you wanted to do was take all your anger out on Buck. He doesn't deserve it, he's the only one who didn't treat you very differently when you got paralyzed.

“I canceled my shift because I couldn't miss your session. I know you said you'd be fine, but I just couldn't.” — he took your hand, kissed your knuckles and looked at you with a loving look.

“We've already finished, help me get to my room.”

When you got to your room, Buck helped you get on the bed. You loved having Buck with you in the evenings because he filled you with that sense of security and confidence. When he had night shifts, it was the most depressing time of your day because you were alone with your thoughts.

“So why did you finish earlier today? I thought you still had 20 minutes of your session when I came.” — lying down on the bed next to you, Buck asked you.

“I didn’t feel like continuing.” — you put your head on his chest and started drawing with your fingers some random stuff on his arm. You always did this when you had a lot of thoughts in your head, but you couldn't formulate them into sentences in any way.

“Why baby? Is something bothering you? You know you can always tell me.” — he’s so sweet, that’s why you don’t deserve him.

“A lot is bothering me, Buck. The expressions on people's faces when they come to me, how everyone tells me about progress and how I've been your burden for 4 months, but you can't admit it.”

You felt tears forming in your eyes. Anger was replaced by sadness, which tore you apart from the inside. It's a feeling of helplessness and complete lack of interest in this fight. You wanted to give up everything, to be alone so that no one else would waste their time on you.

“I can’t admit something that isn’t true, (Y/N). You survived and it's not a burden, but a blessing. I thank the universe for every day with you.” — he pulled you closer to him. How he would like to take away all the pain that's inside you. Buck knew what was going on in your head, so he was always there to reassure you.

“Sometimes I think it would be better if I died than to drag you through something you don't have to go through.” — you whispered it so quietly that you didn't know if Buck had heard. You weren't even sure that you heard your own voice.

Buck's heart broke at those words. You've never been so vulnerable with him, usually you go through even the most difficult events with a big smile and an open heart. But this accident took away a piece of you. You were once cheerful, but now you are completely broken.

“I didn't doubt us for a second. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with someone else, it's always been you.” — Buck put his fingers under your chin and lifted your head so you could look at him. “I know that you don't see progress and it's hard for you to accept that it's moving so slowly. Do you know why you don't see progress? Because every day you are in your body and you don't see yourself from the outside. But I see you. And I see all your efforts and you're doing such a good job, baby.”

“It doesn't feel like enough.”

“But you’re enough in every fucking way. I still see those (y/e/c) eyes that I fell in love with, I still see that smile that immediately makes my day better and I still see that woman I want to call my wife one day.” — Buck kisses your forehead.

“Even when I’m like this?” — you don't know why you're still doubting it, you don't want to lose Buck, but you need these words from him to be sure that you're not dragging him down and he really wants it.

“Like what? An absolutely normal human being? Nothing changed for me and my feelings are still the same too.” — you kiss him. For the first time in 4 months, you felt normal and you fucking loved it.

“Now baby, we will be home in a week, I’m sure familiar walls are going to make you feel better.” — and he kissed you one more time.

A week later, you were at home, your therapist said that you were ready for this and now you will travel to sessions from your home. You don’t need to live in a hospital now. Honestly, you were excited, you were homesick, and you wanted to be in an environment that always made you feel comfortable and safe.

Buck opened the doors to your shared house and said with a smirk:

“Welcome back, babygirl.”

The next thing you saw were your friends, who were joyfully welcoming you back.

“Here’s my girl, finally I will be able to come here on my days off and talk with a smart person.” — Hen had a big smile on her face and hugged you tightly.

“Ouch, I thought I was your one and only, Hen.” — Chim put his hand over his heart as if he had been stabbed. “But seriously, Jee missed her Aunt (Y/N), she’s excited to be babysitted by her favorite person.”

You loved this little girl, so you were always happy to spend time with her when Chim and Maddie were busy.

“Yeah, honestly, I will be back tomorrow, we need to bring back our barbecue parties, I'm craving your signature ribs.” — Eddie made the chef’s kiss.

“I thought I was making the best food, but Eddie hasn't stopped talking about these ribs for 4 months.” — Bobby laughed and came up to you. “Welcome back, (Y/N), we missed you.” — he gave you that fatherly hug that you loved so much.

You looked at Buck and for the first time smiled so sincerely that your cheeks started to hurt. You knew that the path would be long and difficult, but you will definitely cope with it next to your loved ones. A lot has changed, but at the same time nothing has changed, you can still enjoy all the joys that have become a part of you with each of your friends.

Buck came up to you and kissed you. Tears of joy poured from your eyes, right now you realize that you have the strength to cope with these and your relationship with Buck has become even stronger and more sensual.

“I think I can get used to this.” — you said into Buck’s lips. “I love you, thank you for being by my side.”

“Forever and always, I love you.”

One more kiss and this is your new normal.

[mikkeneko]

Don't want to put this on the post itself for risk of derailing it, but that post the other day about Terry Pratchett's early work really stuck in my mind. OP had sent in an ask saying that they heard some of Pratchett's earlier works had problematic elements (not unusual for a male english writer in the 80s) and they weren't sure whether to go ahead with reading the work anyway.

What I really want to ask that person, or indeed all persons who are hesitating over whether or not to read problematic works or works by imperfect authors:

What are you worried about happening, if you read a work with problematic elements?

I'm worried that if I read this art, I will run across hateful images or words that will shock or upset me

I'm worried that I will spend money on a work of art that then financially supports a bad person, and that thought makes me uncomfortable or upset

I'm worried that I will read works of art written by a bad person, and comment or react on them, and other people will see what I am reading and will think less of me because of it, or will assume that I hold the same bad beliefs as the author

I'm worried that I will read works of art written by a bad person, and I will enjoy them, and the author will find out about my enjoyment and feel emboldened to do bad things because of it

I'm worried that I will read works of art written by a bad person, and their badness will contaminate my way of thinking and make me a worse person in turn

Because these are all different answers and some of them are more actionable than others

[moonselune]

could you write wyll gale and astarion with a clingy very overly affectionate reader :0 thanks!!

a little bit of fluff to soothe the soul x

Gale:

Gale loved your affectionate nature, but it was also the reason his stack of unfinished books kept growing taller. He found it nearly impossible to concentrate on his studies and research with you constantly draped around him.

"My dear, how am I supposed to finish reading this tome if you're always like this?" he asked, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

"Who needs books when you have me?" you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your cheek to his. "I am a font of all knowledge."

"Oh really, tell me then-mmpf" Gale was cut off by a kiss to his lips, you didn't have to answer his question if he couldn't ask it. Gale sighed, a soft smile playing on his lips. He could never stay mad at you. The warmth of your body against his and the way you always wanted to be close to him was endearing.

"I suppose the ancient spells and histories can wait a little longer," he conceded, closing the book and setting it aside.

You grinned, triumphant, and nestled closer to him. Gale would often find himself torn between his love for knowledge and his love for you. But in those moments, with you so close and content, the choice was easy. He'd happily wrap his arms around you, hold you close, and let the world of books and spells fade away, if only for a while.

Astarion:

Astarion adored how much you wanted to be close to him. Your need to be intertwined with him was a constant reminder of the deep bond you shared. However, it also meant that letting go, even for a moment, was always a struggle.

"Must you cling to me so, darling?" he asked one morning, though his tone was light and teasing as he tried to extricate himself from your embrace.

"Yes," you replied simply, your arms tightening around him.

Astarion chuckled, shaking his head. "And what if I have to go out?"

"Then I'll come with you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He sighed dramatically, though he was clearly enjoying the attention. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"But you love it," you countered.

"Indeed, I do," he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face and the two of you remained there until Lae'zel dragged the both of you out by your ankles.

Whenever he had to leave, you had a devious response. You would bat your eyelashes, comment that he looked a bit tired and offered him your blood, knowing he could never refuse. He would then return to your arms, and happily suckle on your veins. The sensation was both painful and pleasurable, and of course, he couldn't just abandon you after the gracious gift you just gave him. It was perfect.

Until he realised what you were doing.

"I mean honestly, did you really think I was some pup you could train!?" Astarion flounced across the tent and you sat on your bedroll, smiling guiltily. When he caught you, his outrage continued. "Don't smile, darling, I'm very upset at you!"

There was absolutely no conviction in his tone, and you bit your lip before opening your arms to him. "Sorry, Want to kiss and make up?"

"....well, how could I say no?"

Wyll:

Wyll loved the way you were so affectionate with him. Your constant need to touch, hug, and be close to him was a balm to his often stressful life as a hero and protector. He cherished every moment of it, even though it often left him flustered in public.

"My beloved, not here," he would murmur, his cheeks tinged with a blush as you hugged him from behind, your arms draped over his shoulders while he was trying to talk with a merchant in the marketplace.

"But why not, Wyll?" you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck and watching with satisfaction as he stammered and the merchant chuckled knowingly.

He relished in your affection but couldn't help getting embarrassed when others were around. The look of adoration in his eyes, however, never wavered. When you were alone, he was more than happy to reciprocate your affection. He'd pull you into his lap, kiss your forehead, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

One evening, while the two of you were at a formal gathering, you couldn't resist the urge to slip your hand into his and lean against his shoulder. His friends and acquaintances looked on with amusement and envy.

"Y/N, dearest, you're making it hard for me to concentrate," he whispered, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Good, I like it when you're all flustered." you replied cheekily, nuzzling his neck. Despite the public embarrassment, Wyll wouldn't trade your affection for anything.

Little bit short, but hope you all enjoy it x - Seluney xox

[itsa-me-lily]

I am still tired, but brain is less mush after some lunch. (Can you guess what I had)

Here is other Simon & Thimble playlist

Here is more Military Program Spouse AU

It helps to assume here that unless stated otherwise Simon is wearing a medical mask around reader. She’s just like whatever floats your boat my dude

Content warning;

Mention of food, medical devices, scars, cellulite

“Simon whatever your middle name is Riley you better not be looking at my legs.”

Maybe his mum had a point, that women developed eyes in the back of their head. He wasn’t deliberately looking at your legs, but he wasn’t not not looking either. For some reason unbeknownst to him, you had decided that you had to make the biggest batch of soup known to man. Sure the seasons were changing, summer slowly letting go for fall, but it wasn’t as if a chilly wind was rattling at the windows threatening to steal whatever heat existed. It was still relatively balmy, warm enough to have the windows open and enjoy the breeze. Warm enough that having the stove going made the kitchen borderline stuffy, encouraging you to cook in just a loose tank top and shorts that hit mid thigh.

Simon wasn’t a prude, he wasn’t scandalized at seeing the curve of your thighs, or grossed out by the cellulite. Everyone had fucking skin and however you wanted to dress in the comfort of your home you were welcomed to it. But he had eyes and well he was curious. His own body was covered in scars and tattoos that told a myriad of stories. So he looked to see what yours had to say.

Picking at the chicken you had left on the counter he counted the spots that your insulin pods left behind like stars, noticed how you missed a small strip of hair when you were shaving, even the mole that you had on the back of one ankle; they all came together to make up parts of a story about his wife that he was just starting to get.

He was so lost in thought, mechanically putting piece after piece of poached bird into his mouth, barely paying attention to anything besides the action of seeming busy, that he didn’t notice when you turned around, the exasperation in your voice finally catching his attention.

“Seriously? What did I just say?”

Simon wasn’t someone who startled, didn’t jump or hunch his shoulders to his ears. He had spent far to much time sharpening himself as to cut anyone who tried to catch him unaware. He just wasn’t prepared for you to admonish him like that, hands on your hips and looking for him to answer your question.

“What? You said not to look at your legs…I wasn’t lookin’ at them”

Not a lie, but not quite the truth.

“Yeah instead you’re eating your way through them!”

He blinked at you slowly once and then twice, following your gaze down to the plate of chicken leg quarters he was indeed making his way through. At least one looked like it had been pounced on by scavengers.

“You said no lookin’, nothing about no tasting.”

That was most certainly a twitch to your eye. That probably should have been concerning, but honestly Simon was secure enough in his height and size that if you tried to suffocate him he could throw you off. He was a good head taller than you, honestly how much damage could you do? When you pointed your wooden spoon threateningly at his chest it didn’t do much besides remind him of a little old grandma who would wield the same utensil as a weapon.

“You sir, are an asshole. Now go run to a shop and get me one of the pre cooked chickens.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve eaten half my damn chicken and like hell is my sancocho going to suffer for it.”

“Your what now?”

Yes Simon Riley knew he was being as ass. Yes he also thought that there was a realm of possibility that your upset face and clear murderous intentions were slightly endearing. But only slightly.

“My god damn soup. I swear to god if you fuck this up for me I will find a way to make you suffer the consequences.”

“Alright alright, no need to have a bird over some-heh, bird.”

He didn’t stay to see the double middle fingers you aimed for his back, he didn’t need to. He was pretty sure you were also cursing his name and maker. It wasn’t until the front door shut behind him that your colorful vocabulary was loudly shared with the world. It made him chuckle as he picked up his pace.

Heaven help anyone who got between a woman and her soup.

Edit

I am very passionate about my soup

[valentine-cafe]

. ˚◞♡ 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏-𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕  ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ jingyi verseless / fem sacrificial reader ꒱ your village has a tradition of picking the flower maiden, a woman to be sacrificed every so often to a demon of the abhorration. this year, it seems that you are the lucky flower

𖹭. content warnings◞  yandere behaviour .  kidnapping . 0.8k

𖹭. receipts◞  had this idea and just had to put it onto paper because hello

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

imagine being born to a village that sacrifices their most beautiful, most dutiful, most splendid maiden - as a bride to a demon, they always say.

the decade’s flower maiden. quite the title. both feared and revered.

but when you stood there with a crown of flowers feeling like a crown of thorns, the former shone true. your heart racing as though it wished to tear through your chest and flee from your body. run far - far away. what would it matter? your chest cavity would surely be ripped into two once the demon got his hands on you.

as you stood amongst the diagram drawn with nectar and rose petals. you inhale. bidding one final glance to the deranged villagers who only looked at you with sympathetic smiles and sorrowful eyes.

they could stop this. any time they wished.

who is to say the demon would come knocking on the door?

was there even a demon?

the question would crumble away once you stood before him. tall, dark. an accumulation of ebony mist framed over where you assumed his eyes should be. long claws you can only remind yourself are for tearing. razor teeth for the same.

“another?”

he sounds unimpressed. you are certain the flowers wilt when met with his dry tone. nevertheless you stand straight. fingers twitching as you shakily fiddle.

“are. . . are you -”

“the demon your people obsess over? take a guess sweetheart.”

a chill rises goosebumps in your skin when the demon circles around your far smaller form. while the fog obscures his face, you can almost feel the look of judgement. you could not help the thorn of irritation poking through your chest.

you were the prettiest lily of the valley, what critique might he hold?

the thought is drowned out by the screams of your logic. why were you upset over such a thing? it is not as though you will see the light of day with him to bask in his judgement for much longer. it matters not. you are prey.

and yet his fingers extending those dark claws, adorned in several silver rings — they caress your face as though you are not.

like a flower indeed. one to be put on display in a pretty, golden vase. treated with the utmost care and shown off to all entering one’s abode.

“well I typically release all the pitiful sacrifices your people send my way,” your heart sinks. he stills it by leaning down. a pale face only a breath away. “I must say that this decade’s sacrifice is . . . certainly stunning.”

those claws find your waist instead of your chest. an effortless tug flushing your body to his.

how might a demon feel so soft? like silk. . . wrapped around a bouquet of roses. it is what you felt like when the crux of his finger raises your chin.

“while I hold no interest in your incessant little village. . . I am quite the greedy being. when something catches my eye - well,”

a sharp thumb nail pokes at your lower lip. the first threat of a tear. so close - yet the distraction of mist dissipating to reveal pools of maroon. a face of a demon, that should surely belong to an angel. . . all fear leaks through your pores.

“I take it.”

the middle of your spine arches. the cotton of the white dress your village had clothed you in hangs, as the being leans over you. his height quickly making itself known once more. his hand finds place between your shoulder blades.

“I am sure you would not mind. after all. it is what your people sent you here for, is it not?”

“b-but -”

a chuckle. deep and dark. it strums a chord in your heart. a burst of butterflies flood your tummy. you practically see them venture out into the marble halls of what you can only assume to be his abode.

“your attempts to denial will certainly be cute. but I see it in your eyes,”

the hand glides down to the small of your back. claws tracing, yet never scratching. never tearing.

“you search for an escape. do you not, wild flower?” his thumb strokes. his body flushes to yours. perhaps it is the eyes of a demon. the essence of staring into them. drowning within his stare - that makes your mind echo his words in fervent whispers. desperate agreements.

“I -”

“now, don’t fight it,”

the demon croons. a curl finding his red lips. they set beside your ear and fan a breath lingered with a thousand promises, you can only imagine.

“I shall treat you like the most delicate of roses. the most revered of blossoms. my sweet, sweet wild flower.”

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[vigilskeep]

now that you finished inquisition, what did you think of it? like favorite things, least favorite, etc?

oh man okay

things i love about dragon age inquisition:

capturing the specific feeling of bonding with a group of people you have absolutely nothing in common with because u all had to go through something long and specific together

the maps can be so pretty and in places really calming and lovely to spend time in. it does make me want to explore and i have no explorer’s instinct

i love the war table and judgements i think those are really fun features

i like that approval for many major decisions applies to everyone regardless of who you bring to specific events/quests. it feels a lot less like you have to manage that really hard, as you sometimes do in the other games and also really noticeably to me in something like baldur’s gate 3. it’s irritating when i have to plan ahead and can’t take who i want to hear from

i like how attached you can get to little npcs who wander around

i loveeeee fighting dragons and how beautiful they all are

little puzzles <3

the collectibles are also mostly fine by me i am a magpie by nature. as long as i can find them, obviously, bc if i can’t they suck and this whole game sucks

the templar specialisation is fun and i enjoyed that part of combat a lot. wrath of heaven/spell purge combo is a power trip

i thought my character was pretty :) i defeated u in the end dai character creator. may you be as merciful when we meet in battle once more

i’m not a huge crafter but being able to tint things is rlly nice

blackwall’s romance is good

vivienne is there

they let me briefly tame a dragon at the end there

things i don’t love about dragon age inquisition:

some genuine cruelty in writing the dalish in a way that feels shockingly callous to the real world cultures the writers took inspiration from

never giving the dalish or the rebel mages any kind of voice of their own and making the player do all that work if they care, which i also feel limits my roleplaying creativity

refusing to let you challenge any of the often overwhelmingly conservative views expressed by other characters without receiving only derision and disapproval. inquisition is a game that punishes you at every turn for having your own opinions, in a way that could be interesting if it was willing to truly let you develop complex or antagonistic relationships with those characters, but ends up mostly just feeling mocking when nobody ever even tries to see your side, while simply agreeing with these people always rewards you with content. origins was capable of letting you engage in discussion, and da2 let you form rivalries that mattered; inquisition, despite starring some of the most intentionally controversial characters, does neither

the game engineering conflicts against groups like the freemen of the dales or the avvar that mean nothing to the player and range from vaguely to seriously upsetting in their assumptions about who it’s normal to just start killing en masse. it’s both boring and distressing

odd, for lack of a better word “casting choices”, like having the fantasy impoverished racial minority all be white within the party while the wealthiest and most privileged are characters of colour, or for a more in-world example having the elves express the most distaste towards elves and the mages express the most caution about mages. i don’t know that i quite have the vocabulary to fully discuss why these weird me out, but it all feels... disingenuous? and chosen to forestall criticism based on real world comparisons in a game series that i wish had the nerve to openly confront what it’s talking about if it’s going to try to make any of its conflicts feel relevant

most of the companions, and indeed most of the quests and time spent playing the game, feel disconnected from the main plot. it’s hard to feel any pressure when the game tells you we need to deal with the main plot “right now!” and “get there before corypheus!” when the bulk of the game is doing other things while you’re supposed to be doing that. the majority of companions could be cut without changing anything. and when you finally want to deal with the main plot you just click to start it. it’s not engaging

the game fails to fully expand dialogue for the player character options it provided, particularly notable with its confusing chantry focus when you’ve said for the dozenth time you’re not andrastian

the 2-handed weapon whirlwind ability sound effect is an exercise in creating the worst and most grating sound effect for someone to constantly hear

they didn’t let me romance vivienne

they killed my dragon :(

[literatureloverx]

HIII OMG IT'S BEEN A WHILE😊😊(Not really) HOW ARE YOU DOING RN??? I HOPE YOUR FEELING GOOD IF NOT I HOPE THIS MAKE YOU FEEL NICE😘😘♥️♥️

Ah imagine this with me— you reading a book peacefully while dazai lays on your lap. Him staring into you thinking about how much you make him feel so warm inside. You'd notice it after a while and ask what's up and he'll try and say something to change the subject but you'd notice yet still let him. He'd yap about some random things and you'd just nod, brushing his hair with your hand.

Orrr

You just trying to do something whether it's cooking or laundry is up to you. Then he'd come from your back and hug you tightly, whining about how you're so busy why not rest and cuddle with him? You'd patiently deny it and try to continue but he whines more, snuggling into your neck hugging you tighter. His head on your neck made you ticklish and you laugh and try to get him off but he just continue till you can't anymore

Ah imagine that🫠🫠

Oh my gosh, ANON??!! It’s so adorable! ❤️ Thank you so much for sharing this with us! ❤️

By the way, I’d love to be able to distinguish you from other Anons. Would you like to claim an emoji to use? ❤️ Everyone is welcome to do so, and it would really help me keep track of who’s who. I’d be grateful if you did! ❤️

I wrote a short scenario based on it; I hope you like it. 🩵

“My handsome baby is being so whiny…”

He smirks. It’s clearly working.

“Bella!~ You’re always cleaning up when I’m around! Am I not deserving of your affection, my glorious goddess?”

That exaggerated voice is so typical of your boyfriend; it makes you smile softly each time.

“That’s because you don’t let me stay home or anywhere else without you. You drag me wherever you go. When am I supposed to get things done? You’re not helping either—“

Oh, it’s clearly not working.

He whines loudly, making you jump. His teeth gently bite into your neck, causing you to hiss.

“You’re being so mean, doll. You know if there’s one thing I hate, it’s cleaning up.”

“No, I believe it’s work that you hate the most,” you tease.

He makes a wounded noise, emphasizing his hurt feelings. You sigh softly and turn to face your beloved boyfriend, his face pouty and soft for you.

You cup his cheeks gently, a warm smile spreading across your lips. Oh, how you love this man. His warm, chocolate-brown eyes pierce right through your heart every time he gazes at you with such desperation—it feels like both a blessing and a curse.

“Hey, don’t look so upset. I’ll give you all the affection you desire. I just wanted to finish emptying the dishwasher before resting.”

He wins. You know it, and you let him win, as you always do, and he knows that too.

“That’s why you’re mine, Bella!~”

He doesn’t wait any longer, showering you with kisses all over your face, just like you do with him every morning, making you giggle in return.

Soon enough, his warm lips find yours.

All his. Indeed.

TO DAZAI’S MASTERLIST => HERE

TO MY OTHER WORKS => HERE

[jinwoosbabyboo]

So, you did a post of the boys being jealous, but I was wondering how would you rank each guy from most jealous to least jealous/possessive? Also, what kind of jealous are they.

P.S. Xavier's "It's nothing personal" still cracks me up. You're hilarious.

Most to Least Jealous

Who's the most to least jealous among the four of them? Here's what I think.

A/N: had to do a little switcher-roo w/ Zayne & Sylus because Zayne definitely gets more jealous than Sylus & it’s adorable

Xavier

Xavier without a doubt is taking first place here. This man was jealous when Jeremiah had his arm around MCs shoulder. He gets upset anytime MC compliments Lumiere. Xavier PLEASE Lumiere IS YOU.

Don't get me wrong I understand the notion of "He wants MC to love him for him not his Lumiere alter-ego" I get that. It's sweet that he's "Xavier .... Just Xavier" with MC.

Aside from him being jealous of himself though even in his myth he gets jealous when Jeremiah touches her or she speaks about Jeremiah he even blew in her eye because she "had a hooligan in her eye" referring to Jeremiah. He wants to be the only person in her eyes, mind, and heart.

Rafayel

Rafayel is jealous, but he's more clingy/needy than jealous (and I love that) He doesn't like being ignored by MC and gets antsy and dramatic when she takes too long to respond.

He wants all of MCs attention at all hours of the day. He wants to have her attention 24/7, but realistically he knows that can't happen so he just wants as much as possible.

Zayne

Zayne does indeed get jealous he’s not as jealous as Xav or as dramatic and pouty as Raf but he gets jealous. He isn’t as expressive with his jealousy but he still has a childlike jealousy vibe. He’s so smitten with MC he just wants all her affection he’s touch starved for heavens sake. He's secure within himself, but he finds the world itself boring and MCs vivacity makes his life interesting. So of course he gets jealous when something else is stealing his girls attention.

Also I imagine him being a little possessive when it comes to doing something for you because that’s how he shows his love. His actions are louder than his words.

Sylus

Sylus is extremely secure in himself he doesn't get jealous. At least that's probably what he tells himself. This man isn't "im gonna pout" jealous he's more of flash/zing of jealousy before setting himself straight like "Wait a minute ... she's mine ... I'm the whole loaf the rest of you are the breadcrumbs" and he's back to his confident self-assured sexy self.

If you want to see him get jealous change his pet name for you and when he asks "Am I the only one to call you that?" if you choose the "You should be" answer he's like "Who else is there? that doesn't matter you have me now" or something like that.