#i love getting worked up over nonsense. it makes me feel alive.

[a10wea]

Okay so I bookmarked *boggles* 175 fics this year wow that is a lot. and 124 of those were Stony. Here are my favorites i read this year, in no particular order:

Small Weird Love by @haemodye

When a magical mishap results in Tony swapping his legs for tentacles, he's absolutely mortified. How is he supposed to face Steve? Steve can't possibly want him like this. Right? Right...

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by @sineala

No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

rutted old road by @meidui

It’s his loneliness screaming, out here in the mountains where nobody else is, begging to know—are you like me?

Cut the Wire (How to Stop a Civil War) by orbing_arrow

“JARVIS? Do me a favor. All that data that Romanoff dumped-- see if there’s anything in there that mentions me. Actually-- scratch that. I know enough about myself to know that's a bad idea. See what HYDRA had on dad instead, will you? And go straight to the Restricted Section. I only wanna read what I was never meant to see.”

Curiosity kills cats. Turns out there are plenty of other fates just about as painful.

---

Tony learns the truth about Bucky Barnes a week after CA:TWS and it changes everything. This is how you stop a civil war.

almeno tu nell'universo by @silkspectred

Tony drives off.

Well, he wants to.

But he can’t.

Because.

Steve Rogers is in front of his car.

Steve fucking Rogers. Is in front of Tony’s fucking car.

'Cause It's You and Me (and All of the People) by @carsonian

Steve and Tony discover that they're soulmates in their senior year of high school. As they wrestle with this realisation and try to build out a genuine relationship in the backdrop of high school nonsense and college admissions stress, they're met with a ridiculous number of hurdles in the form of every friend in their circle recruiting them as "fake dates".

(A.K.A. the high school soulmates AU where they keep getting pulled into fake dating schemes for other people, told in a chatlog / texting format)

Galeas III by @stitchyarts

Captain Steve Rogers is scheduled for a relatively "routine" solo flight into space.

AKA The Apollo 13-esque Astronaut AU comic!

Open Field in Front of Him by orphan_account

Steve Rogers's football season is functionally over after a loss to Rutgers, but he finds a distraction in Tony Stark (yes, THAT Tony Stark). A college AU Stony fic.

Frequency by @sabrecmc

Fourteen-year-old Tony Stark finds Captain America's broken radio in his father's safe and decides to repair it. It works, because of course it does, he fixed it, after all, and he gets to talk to a group of soldiers who can't share much about what they are doing, which is fine by Tony because while it is true that he is technically a student at MIT, he maybe wasn't entirely upfront about everything. This presents a problem when he develops feelings--okay, fine, a massive crush--on one of the soldiers.

Caught Up in Our Stories by @gogglor

“Tony, listen to me," said Steve. "This isn’t you. You’re not a PI, you’re a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist superhero. You and everyone else who lives in the tower have all been put under a spell, and you need to come with me to break it.”

I suppose that’s what I get for saying I’ve heard it all before, thought Tony.

***

Someone's cast a spell on Avengers Tower that has changed each floor into a different kind of story, and trapped the Avengers inside. Steve mounts a rescue mission, starting with Tony Stark, PI, a noir detective who's got a thing for blonde bombshells who bring trouble to his door.

Genesis by @teaberryblue

Reluctant to make the truth about their secret weapon known, the American Government tells the world that Captain America is a man named Steve Rogers. According to public record, he died, tragically, in 1945, and he became legend.

In 1998, the Avengers find a body trapped in ice.

She's alive.

Her name is Eve.

She has Captain America's shield.

SteveTony Weekly - Best of 2024

Welcome to the final rec list of 2024 in which I look back at the best fic’s I read this year--what are YOUR favorite fics of the year? 

Hot Rod Red by FrankTheSnek

Steve has been single since the abrupt end of his engagement 5 years ago (despite the efforts of his friends). When he accidentally stumbles across an attractive cam model online, the idea of having a virtual booty call on hand seems appealing. The only problem, Tony is far more charming than Steve would have imagined and there is more to him than a pretty smile and a nice body. Too bad all their interactions are just part of Tony's job… or are they?

Picture This by mistymountainking

“What if—” Steve doesn’t clear his throat this time. He swallows. And oh, Tony watches like it’s happening in slow motion, the tensing of tendons, the roll of Steve’s Adam's apple, the way his suprasternal notch collapses and fills as his esophagus works to, what, keep words down? Saliva? A moan? Steve blinks and the glassiness clears. The blush all but vanishes. “Never mind,” he mutters.

And that…that just won’t do.

Tony leans forward ever so slightly over the foot of the bed, further into Steve’s space by a fraction of an inch. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Steve does. He stares at Tony from up near the headboard, a plaintive expression deep behind his eyes, a problem that Tony can’t help but want to fix.

“Would you like my help, Steve?”

***

Steve gets caught attempting to take his first-ever dick pics. It's a struggle, he explains, because it brings up a whole host of lingering body image issues. Tony, very gallantly and not at all because he is in love with Steve, offers to take the photos for him.

how light carries on endlessly by meidui

“I'm fine. I always heal up fine.”

“Do you?” Tony asks, two little words flaying Steve open. Steve looks up at him, and against the dusky light, Tony Stark strangely looks nothing like his father.

-

Between a near-drowning in the Hudson River, a panic attack in the middle of a mission, and a kidnapping, Steve learns to be happy.

business affairs by meidui

It’s two years of wanting him the way he hasn’t wanted Emma since their honeymoon to the pearl of the Pacific, eighteen months of Steve slipping into his hotel suite on business trips away from the prying eyes of New York, and twelve months of staying late after the cleaning staff clock out because Steve will ride him behind his desk with the door unlocked.

Senseless by Scavenge4Dreams

Blinded, deafened, exhausted, injured and afraid, Tony raised himself up into a defensive position, the knife coming up just like Nat had taught him.

“That had better fucking be you, Steve Rogers- it had better be you. Fucking disarm me. If you let me kill you, I swear I will be very, very pissed.” Tony snarled, sure it was Steve approaching. Had to be. Had. To. Be.

What if it wasn’t?

Sunshine on Leith by AvengersNewB, KandiSheek

With the new government law prohibiting the employment of unbonded omegas, Tony has no hope of keeping his job at SHIELD, knowing full well that he has little chance of ever finding a mate. That is until he's officially claimed by a very special alpha: Steven Grant Rogers, also known as Captain America.

In the Springtime of His Voodoo by shaenie 

“I’m removing Captain Rogers from this base, but not from active duty. I want him as SHIELD’s liaison to Stark Industries first and foremost. He’ll report directly to me,” Fury says. “As it is, your identity as Captain America is not public knowledge and it will remain that way until I say otherwise. That said, if you think you can get Tony Stark to work with you if you disclose that information, you have permission to do so.”

talk just right by meidui

The most Tony hears Steve talk is when they argue, but hand to god, that's not the reason Tony keeps picking fights with him.

Well, maybe a little.

As Sharp As Any Thorn by RurouniHime 

It’s four days to Christmas, there’s a city in shambles, and the nation is in mourning because of the actions of a single man.

Double Exposure by shetlandowl

After a brief stint in the third installment of the Captain America franchise, Tony Stark was brought back to reprise his role as Iron Man in the fourth Captain America movie, Avengers Assemble. Tony had spent most of his twenties becoming a household name as a rising star in Mexican telenovelas, and Avengers Assemble is his breakout role on the big screen – and, more importantly, his introduction to the mainstream US audience.

Even after the movie is completed, Steve and Tony’s friendship remains a source of support that they instinctively rely on for encouragement and guidance. Tony’s fearless approach helps Steve break out of his comfort zone, and Steve’s solid grounding helps Tony focus on what matters.

This promotional tour is a new experience for Tony, but with Steve’s help, his learning curve isn’t so steep. Steve’s learning curve, on the other hand, is life changing.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

You're all being spared some truly heinous perfume posts right now so I think we should all be grateful I'm saving them to drafts instead.

[solxamber]

Overblot Gang + Rollo vs Plushies

Surely they're not jealous of a stuffed toy, right? ....right???

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle stepped into the room, exhaustion clinging to him like an unwelcome guest. It had been a day filled with chaos—Ace and Deuce were their usual disruptive selves, Heartslabyul’s hedgehogs had staged what could only be described as a minor rebellion, and the tea party had gone disastrously wrong when the tart supply mysteriously disappeared.

All Riddle wanted was to collapse into bed with you, the one person who made his world feel a little less upside-down.

But instead of finding you waiting to greet him, he found you fast asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed.

And clutching...a plushie.

Riddle froze, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes narrowing at the offending object. It was a bunny plush, worn and clearly well-loved, nestled securely in your arms. Your cheek rested against its soft head, your lips slightly parted in a peaceful slumber.

For a moment, Riddle just stared. Then the tiniest flicker of jealousy ignited in his chest.

It’s just a stuffed toy, he told himself, but the longer he looked, the more irrational his thoughts became.

Why is it getting your affection while I’m here, alive, and far more deserving?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the ridiculous notion, but the sight of you snuggling the plushie like it was the most precious thing in the world made his face heat up.

“This is absurd,” he muttered under his breath, but his resolve only grew stronger.

Quietly, carefully, he crept closer to the bed, his eyes fixed on the plushie. His plan was simple: extract the bunny and take its place. Surely, you’d prefer your boyfriend over a stuffed toy.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the plushie’s soft fabric. Just as he began to tug it free, your eyes fluttered open.

“Riddle?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

Riddle froze like a thief caught in the act, his face turning as red as his hair. “You’re awake!”

“I am now,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you noticed the bunny in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was—” He struggled to find a reasonable explanation, but his traitorous blush gave him away. “You were holding it so tightly, and I thought perhaps you’d be more comfortable with me instead.”

You blinked at him for a moment before breaking into a laugh, soft and warm. “Riddle Rosehearts, are you jealous of my plushie?”

“I most certainly am not!” he spluttered, though the way he avoided your gaze told a different story.

“You are!” you said, sitting up and holding the plushie close. “You’re jealous of Bunny!”

Riddle groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is mortifying.”

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” you cooed, deliberately making it worse. “Riddle doesn’t understand how much you mean to me.”

“Give me that!” Riddle reached for the plushie again, but you held it just out of reach, giggling as he tried to maintain his dignity while grappling with a stuffed toy.

Finally, you relented, setting the plushie aside and wrapping your arms around him instead. “I’m just teasing. You know you’re my favorite, right?”

He sighed, leaning into your embrace despite his embarrassment. “I don’t know why I let myself get worked up over something so silly.”

“Because you’re adorable,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Riddle’s blush deepened, but this time, he didn’t try to hide it. “Just...promise me you won’t replace me with a toy.”

You grinned, cupping his face in your hands. “Never. You’re too cute to replace.”

And with that, you pulled him into a kiss, his earlier jealousy forgotten as he melted into your affection. The plushie sat abandoned at the foot of the bed, no match for the warmth and love you gave so freely to the one who truly deserved it.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona slammed the door to your shared room, the sound of it echoing through the space. His day had been one giant pile of nonsense—from an annoying meeting he didn’t even want to attend to Ruggie disappearing when he needed him to take his place. And let’s not even talk about that one random pigeon that had the audacity to poop on his shoulder during his walk back to the dorm.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your presence and the luxury of using you as his personal pillow while he finally got some peace.

But when he turned to the bed, his sharp emerald eyes caught sight of you curled up against something that was decidedly not him.

You were cuddling a lion plushie, of all things, as you read a book. The toy was tucked snugly in your arms, and every now and then, you absentmindedly stroked its mane while flipping the pages.

Leona froze, his ears twitching in irritation. What in the world is that thing doing in my spot?

You glanced up when you noticed him standing there, his face an unreadable mask of simmering annoyance. “Oh, hey, Leona,” you greeted cheerfully, holding up the plushie. “Look! Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier, and it reminded me of you.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed the room in a few swift strides, grabbed the plushie from your arms, and unceremoniously hurled it across the room. It landed with a pathetic little plop in the corner.

“Leona!” you exclaimed, half-shocked, half-amused. “What was that for?”

He flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms with a huff. “That stupid toy’s been hogging my place all day,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t need competition in my own bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as he tangled himself around you like an oversized, grumpy cat. “Leona, it’s just a plushie. Are you seriously jealous of a stuffed animal?”

“I'm not jealous,” he muttered, tightening his grip around your waist. “I’m the only lion you need.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you teased, tilting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “Do you feel neglected? Should I make it up to you?”

Leona raised an eyebrow, though the corner of his lips twitched upward in a smirk. “Damn straight, you should. Start with those kisses you owe me.”

With a laugh, you leaned down and kissed him softly, your hands cradling his face. He hummed in satisfaction, his earlier annoyance melting away as you continued peppering his cheeks and forehead with affection.

“Better now?” you asked, grinning against his skin.

“Hmm,” he replied, sounding almost lazy, though his arms stayed firmly locked around you. “Still annoyed that you thought some stuffed toy was good enough to take my place, but I guess I’ll survive.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but snuggling closer to him.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Now shut up and get comfortable. You’re my pillow tonight.”

You didn’t mind one bit, letting him rest his head on your chest while you stroked his hair. The plushie in the corner could wait—your favorite lion was right where he belonged.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul walked into your shared room, exhaling a sigh that carried the weight of a long, exhausting day. Between renegotiating contracts with customers, juggling lounge finances, and—most harrowing of all—keeping Floyd and Jade from causing a full-blown diplomatic incident, he was done.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your embrace and the chance to leave the chaos of the Mostro Lounge behind.

But when he stepped into the room, his eyes landed on you sprawled on the bed.

You were curled up with an octopus plushie of all things, the game console in your hands forgotten as you absently squished the toy. It had an oddly familiar round head and floppy tentacles that dangled off the side of the bed.

Azul froze in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him. His sharp mind began firing off thoughts at record speed.

Is that... me? No, of course not. But you’re cuddling it. You’re smiling. Does it remind you of me?

He frowned as another realization hit him like a cold wave.

Am I... jealous of a goddamn plushie?

Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room. “What’s this, my dear?” he asked, voice smooth but laced with suspicion.

You glanced up and beamed at him. “Oh! Welcome back, Azul!” You held up the plushie as if presenting a priceless artifact. “Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier and thought it looked a little like you.”

Azul’s composure faltered for a split second, his cheeks tinging pink. “You think an oversized toy resembles me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, tilting your head innocently. “It’s an octopus. And it’s adorable.”

Azul adjusted his glasses, hiding his expression. “I see.” He hesitated before clearing his throat again. “It seems you’re quite attached to it.”

You hummed in agreement, giving the plushie another squeeze. “It’s so squishy and comforting to hold while I play.”

Azul’s eyebrow twitched. “Comforting, is it?”

He walked to the bed, sitting down beside you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Darling, might I propose a trade?”

“A trade?” you repeated, trying not to laugh at how serious he looked.

“Yes,” he said smoothly. “That plushie for... well, anything you desire. Perhaps a free full course meal at the lounge? Or a favor of your choosing?”

You raised an eyebrow, setting down your console. “Are you trying to make a deal with me over a stuffed toy?”

Azul’s cheeks darkened. “Of course not. I simply thought you might prefer a more... meaningful source of comfort.”

It clicked, and a mischievous grin spread across your face. “Oh. Oh, I see what this is.”

“What are you implying?” he asked, straightening his tie even though it wasn’t out of place.

“You’re jealous of the plushie,” you said, leaning toward him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

Azul sputtered, adjusting his glasses again. “Jealous? Don’t be absurd. Why would I—”

“Aw, Azul,” you cooed, cutting him off as you set the plushie aside and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You should’ve just said you wanted to be my cuddle buddy. You’re my favorite octo-mer, after all.”

His ears flushed deeper as he tried to maintain his dignity. “Well, of course I am. There’s no need for comparison.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him down onto the bed and into the position the plushie had been occupying moments ago. You rested your head against his chest, a satisfied smile on your face. “Because this is way better than some squishy toy.”

Azul relaxed, his arms wrapping around you as a content sigh escaped his lips. “Naturally,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

From the corner of the room, the plushie sat forgotten. Azul glanced at it once and smirked. You’ll never take my place again.

Jamil Viper

Jamil shuffled down the dorm hallway, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. The day had been a whirlwind of chaos—cooking for Kalim’s impromptu banquet, mediating arguments between students, and narrowly avoiding another wild scheme involving magic carpets.

All he wanted was to collapse on the bed he shared with you. That you’d be there was just the cherry on top.

He pushed the door open, ready to greet you—only to stop dead in his tracks.

You were curled up on the bed, scrolling through your phone with a peaceful smile. But it wasn’t just you. No, you were wrapped snugly around a snake plushie.

Its long, noodle-like body coiled over your lap as you absently hugged it closer, your cheek pressing against its soft fabric.

Jamil’s eye twitched.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and stared at the scene with growing annoyance.

You look so happy... with a plushie.

“Hey, Jamil!” you greeted cheerfully, glancing up from your phone. “Welcome back. Long day?”

“Mm,” he hummed, walking toward the bed with a carefully neutral expression. He sat down stiffly at the edge, his back to you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, noticing his unusually curt demeanor.

“Fine,” he replied, voice clipped.

You frowned, putting your phone down. Wrapping your arms around his back, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “You sure? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” he said again, though his tone didn’t convince either of you.

You squinted at his turned profile, the faintest flush dusting his ears. He wasn’t looking at you—or, more specifically, at the snake plushie you still held loosely.

Then it clicked.

You smirked, leaning closer. “Wait a second. Are you… jealous of the plushie?”

His shoulders tensed, and he immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh my gosh, you are jealous!” you teased, letting go of the plushie entirely to wrap yourself fully around him. “You hate my noodle friend, don’t you?”

Jamil turned slightly, just enough to glare half-heartedly at you. “It’s not— I don’t— It’s a toy,” he huffed, the flush on his face deepening.

“A very cute toy,” you said with a grin, nuzzling your cheek against his. “But not as cute as my boyfriend.”

Jamil stiffened as you started peppering kisses along his jawline. “Stop,” he mumbled weakly, his resolve clearly crumbling.

“Why?” you asked innocently, kissing the corner of his lips before moving to his neck. “You’re so much better than any plushie. You’re warm and handsome and smell nice…”

He finally cracked, turning to face you fully with an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, but you love me anyway,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jamil gave you a tired but affectionate look, letting himself melt into your embrace. “Maybe.”

You smiled, pulling him down onto the bed with you. As he settled into your arms, the plushie forgotten on the floor, you whispered, “You’ll always be my favorite noodle.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassed grin. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Never,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

And Jamil, despite his protests, felt a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced all day.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil returned to his dorm room with a sigh of relief, the stress of the day clinging to him like stage makeup. The auditions, the photoshoots, and Epel’s ongoing refusal to use skincare—it had been a lot.

What he wanted now was simple: your company, your warmth, and the soothing routine of winding down together before bed.

However, when he stepped inside, his poised demeanor wavered.

You were curled up on the bed, a content smile on your face, snuggled tightly against a plushie—a soft, bunny-shaped one at that.

Vil froze, one hand still on the door handle.

It’s just a plushie, he told himself. A mere inanimate object.

But as he watched you absentmindedly rub your cheek against the bunny’s floppy ear, he felt… something.

Annoyance? At the plushie? Himself? You? He couldn’t even tell.

Brushing off the irrational jealousy bubbling in his chest, Vil set his things down and began his evening routine. He didn’t mention the plushie or the way it seemed to taunt him with its undeserved place in your arms.

You looked up with a warm smile. “Hey, Vil. How was your day?”

“Busy,” he replied smoothly, glancing your way briefly before focusing on his vanity.

“You want me to pin up your hair?” you offered, already starting to sit up, plushie still clutched in one hand.

“No need,” he said quickly, voice tighter than usual.

You blinked. That was unusual—Vil always let you (only you) help with his hair. But you shrugged it off, assuming he was just tired.

As Vil carefully applied his cleanser, the plushie caught his eye again in the mirror. It was still nestled against you, smugly enjoying the attention that should’ve been his.

Halfway through his routine, he finally snapped.

With a dramatic sigh, Vil spun around, crossed the room in three graceful strides, and plucked the bunny from your lap.

“Uh—?” you started, confused, but before you could say more, Vil replaced the plushie with himself, settling across your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Vil?” you asked, biting back a laugh as his weight pressed you into the mattress.

“Not. A. Word,” he warned, narrowing his eyes at your amused expression. His cheeks were faintly pink, but he composed himself quickly, picking up where he left off with his skincare routine as though nothing had happened.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Vil’s hands faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. “I don’t need your commentary.”

“You’re totally jealous of the bunny,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his shoulder.

He clicked his tongue but didn’t deny it. Instead, he muttered, “Why would I feel jealous over a plushie?”

“Because you’re pouting,” you said, laughing softly.

Vil sighed, tilting his head slightly to look at you out of the corner of his eye. “I do not pout. And don’t think I’ll let you win this one.”

“Oh, I’ve already won,” you said, tightening your hold on him.

Vil shook his head, muttering something about your insufferable sense of humor, but his posture relaxed as he continued his routine.

By the time he finished, the plushie had been completely forgotten, replaced entirely by the warm, smug human wrapped around his waist.

Idia Shroud

Idia shuffled back to his room after the dorm leaders' meeting, grumbling under his breath about its sheer redundancy.

"Like they really needed me there. My tablet could've handled it. Heck, I could’ve sent Ortho in my place! It’s not like I’m ever the one making decisions… What’s the point of—"

His mumbling came to an abrupt halt as he stepped into his room and saw you on the bed.

You were curled up against a giant teddy bear, console still in hand, the screen long since dimmed. Soft snores escaped you as you nestled deeper into the plushie's arms, utterly at peace.

Idia froze, his face instantly heating up. "Wha—?! W-why is this so—?!" His hair sparked pink as he clutched his hoodie, feeling like he was going to short-circuit.

The sight was almost too much. You, looking so cute and peaceful, holding a teddy bear like it was some kind of rival stealing his spot.

He fumbled for his phone, hands shaking slightly as he snapped several photos. “For, uh, research. Totally normal behavior. Definitely not for my… secret stash.” His whisper echoed a bit too loudly in the silent room.

But now he was faced with a dilemma.

On one hand, you looked so cozy, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb you. On the other hand… he wanted to be that teddy bear.

Idia stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, trying to decide what to do. He wrung his hands together, muttering to himself like a character weighing dialogue options.

"Option A: Let them sleep. Pros—cute and peaceful. Cons—no interaction.

Option B: Wake them up. Pros—I get attention. Cons—they might get mad."

Before he could settle on an answer, you stirred, stretching with a groggy yawn. Your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked at him standing there, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Idia?" you mumbled, setting the console aside. You gave the teddy bear one final pat before tossing it away and reaching out to him. "C’mere.”

His heart skipped a beat. “M-me?!”

“Obviously you,” you teased with a sleepy smile, pulling him into a hug as soon as he got close enough.

Idia practically melted into your arms, his hair shifting to a bright pink. His smugness quickly returned, though, as he realized the teddy bear had been successfully ousted. "H-heh. +1 affection point for me," he muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of pride and shyness.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Affection point? Idia, you already maxed out your affection gauge ages ago.”

His brain short-circuited again, and he buried his face in your shoulder, muffling a squeaky, “D-don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” you teased, leaning back to look at his glowing face. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

Idia groaned dramatically, his hair flaring brighter as he tried to hide behind his bangs. But despite his embarrassment, he managed to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Fine, whatever. Just… don’t let go, okay?” he muttered, his voice soft.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not a chance.”

From the corner of the room, the discarded teddy bear sat forgotten, a silent casualty in Idia’s victorious conquest for your affection.

Malleus Draconia

It had been a peaceful evening—stars twinkling, a cool breeze wafting through the window, and the promise of a lovely stroll under the moonlight. Malleus had been particularly pleased with the weather and decided to invite you for an evening walk.

He entered the room, his usual serene expression softening when his eyes fell upon you. But then, he froze.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon in your arms like it was the most comforting thing in the world.

A deep rumble echoed in the distance.

You blinked, sitting up slightly. “Was that… thunder?”

Before you could ponder further, a crack of lightning lit up the sky outside, followed by the booming roar of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. You stared out the window in disbelief.

“But it was perfectly clear two minutes ago!” you exclaimed.

Turning back to Malleus, you found him standing as still as a statue, his eyes narrowed and locked onto the offending plushie in your arms. The air around him practically crackled with energy.

“Uh… Malleus?” you ventured carefully, glancing between him and the plush.

His voice was low and serious, tinged with a hint of betrayal. “Is that what brings you comfort in my absence?”

You stared at him for a moment, then at the plushie, before the realization dawned. Suppressing a laugh, you decided to play along.

“Oh no, this?” you said, holding up the plush with exaggerated disdain. “This means nothing to me.”

Malleus arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, though his eyes remained laser-focused on the dragon-shaped invader.

To really drive the point home, you dramatically tossed the plush into the corner of the room. “See? It’s nothing compared to you, my most handsome, powerful dragon.”

You spread your arms and wrapped yourself around Malleus, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His stiff posture eased almost immediately, and the thunderstorm brewing outside dissipated as if it had never existed.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his voice quieter now but still holding a touch of haughtiness. “I suppose it’s only natural. I am your favorite dragon, after all.”

“You’re my only dragon,” you said with a chuckle, leaning back to look at him.

Malleus gazed down at you, his expression softening into something tender. “Good,” he murmured, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your face up. “I would hate to compete with a mere stuffed toy for your affection.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, you know that?”

He blinked, visibly startled by the compliment, his ears tinging slightly red. “Cute? I… I do not believe ‘cute’ is the word one typically uses to describe the future king of Briar Valley.”

“Well, I do,” you said, smiling mischievously as you planted another kiss on his lips.

Malleus let out a deep sigh, though the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “You are… quite the peculiar human, my love.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you teased.

Malleus chuckled softly, pulling you closer. Outside, the weather had returned to the calm, moonlit serenity it was before—a perfect night for a walk. Though judging by the way Malleus held you now, neither of you seemed in any rush to leave.

Rollo Flamme

After a long day of dealing with incompetent council members, insufferable students, and the lingering stench of magic in the air, Rollo Flamme was finally free. As he walked into your shared room, his shoulders relaxed slightly at the thought of seeing you. Your presence was always the perfect antidote to his day’s irritations.

But then, he saw it.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon that was far too detailed for his liking. Its smug, embroidered eyes glinted in the soft light, as if mocking him. Worse, it was lounging on his side of the bed.

He froze mid-step, the betrayal hitting him like a thunderbolt.

You looked up, immediately noticing his stricken expression. “Rollo? Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze locked on the plushie with such intensity it was a wonder it didn’t burst into flames.

You tilted your head, following his line of sight. “Oh, this?” you said, holding up the dragon plush with a smile. “I won it at the arcade today! Isn’t it cute?”

Glass shattering. Dramatic violins. Betrayal.

“...A dragon,” he said, his voice low and tight.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging it closer without realizing the depth of the offense. “It’s so soft, and look at its little wings! They’re kind of shiny—”

“Does it need wings?” he cut in sharply, glaring at the plush like it had personally insulted him.

You blinked. “Rollo, are you... mad at the plushie?”

He straightened immediately, huffing indignantly. “Mad? At a stuffed toy? Don’t be absurd.”

But the way his eyes flicked back to the plush betrayed him, the subtle narrowing of his gaze screaming volumes.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “Oh my gosh, you are mad! Is it because it’s a dragon? Does it remind you of Malleus?”

His jaw tightened. “I do not dignify such comparisons with a response.”

You grinned, setting the plush aside. “Well, if it bothers you so much, I can just put it away.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he lied, though his shoulders eased a fraction when you stood and picked up the plushie.

“I’ll banish it to the closet,” you teased, waving the dragon plush dramatically before stuffing it into the closet. “There, see? Gone.”

Rollo exhaled quietly, his usual stoic demeanor returning. “Good. It’s for the best.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his shoulder “You know you’re the only one I’d ever actually want to cuddle, right?”

His ears turned red, and he cleared his throat, but his arms instinctively came up to hold you close. “I would hope so,” he muttered, though his tone softened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you snuggled against him, he allowed himself a moment of peace, though his mind wandered. He would have to get you something far superior—something elegant and tasteful. Perhaps a plush raven or something equally refined. Certainly nothing with wings or scales.

You smiled against his chest, feeling the tension leave his body. “You’re not still mad, are you?”

“No,” he said quickly. “But I’ll be... keeping an eye on your choice of arcade prizes in the future.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Whatever you say, Rollo.”

Deep down, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d won or lost this battle, but with your arms around him, he decided it didn’t really matter.

Masterlist

[mononijikayu]

nonsense christmas — nanami kento.

“Tell you what, Kento.” you said, voice low and teasing. “If you don’t kiss me under a mistletoe by the end of the night, I’ll stop. No more flirting, no more teasing. I’ll leave you alone.” Kento tilted his head slightly, as if considering your words. “And if I do?” Your breath hitched at the question, but you managed a grin. “Then I’ll finally have my Christmas wish.” His lips parted softly, as though he were about to respond, but instead, he exhaled slowly, his warm gaze dipping to your lips for the briefest moment before meeting your bright teasing eyes again.  “You’re impossible.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Romance, Crushes, Getting Together, Classmates, Friends to Lovers, Persuasion, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Friendship, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Mild Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Kissing, Mistletoe Kiss, Christmas;

WORD COUNT: 5k words.

NOTE: nanami kento come to the front because??? you made your lover wait for this long??? but its okay guys, he'll love you forever so that he'll make up for his making you wait. anyway, i hope that you enjoy christmas!!! ill come back with more stuff!!! i love you all <3

box it up, christmas hun! (santa kayu 2024)

main masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS THAT TIME OF THE YEAR. The ballroom felt alive, sparkling with the magic of the season. Music drifted through the air, a soft, lilting melody that seemed to heighten the intimacy of the moment. You couldn't help but notice how the warm golden light cast a soft glow on Nanami Kento's sharp features, making him look even more handsome than usual. His presence in the crowd was magnetic, his quiet strength standing out against the festive chaos of the room.

You couldn’t help but admit it: you liked this man too much. Nanami Kento was just that man. More than anyone else in this room. Maybe even more than anyone in the entire world. It was a thought that lingered in your mind far too often, but you couldn’t shake it, not when every moment with him felt like the only thing that mattered.

You decided that he was the one the moment you both were at Jujutsu High. The very first time you saw him, sitting there in the classroom, casually dressed in his uniform, a book in his hands. The image was burned into your memory, as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The way he looked—so effortlessly cool, so calm, so utterly engrossed in his reading. It could’ve been plucked straight from the pages of a shoujo manga.

And yet, as much as it was cliché, it was perfect. Every detail about that moment was perfect. His sandy blond hair, the way it fell in messy waves over his brow, the soft crease of his shirt, the relaxed way he rested his chin in his hand as he flipped the page. You could almost hear the soundtrack of a gentle string instrument playing in your mind as you watched him, caught in a moment that felt as if it had been orchestrated just for you.

You could still remember the flutter in your chest, that instant of realization. It wasn’t just admiration. It was more. It was the kind of feeling that felt destined, as if the universe had conspired to place you in that moment, in that room, with him. And just like that, you were hooked.

You didn’t even need to know him then to know that you wanted him. His presence was magnetic, his energy effortless, and you found yourself thinking of nothing but how perfect it would be to spend the rest of your life with him.

Looking back now, you could trace the beginnings of your feelings to that very moment—so simple, yet so profound. A single snapshot in time that made you realize that sometimes, the best things in life happen when you least expect them. That moment with him, so ordinary and yet so extraordinary, felt like fate pulling you toward something you didn’t even know you wanted.

And now, here you were, so far from that classroom, so far from the days when the idea of him seemed like an impossible dream, and yet… it was real. He was here, and he was yours. You smiled softly to yourself, your heart full as you looked at him, knowing that it all started with one perfect moment—and you would always fall for him, every time, in every way, for the rest of your life.

The memory of that moment still lingered in your mind, vivid despite the years that had passed. You had spent weeks psyching yourself up, rehearsing your words in front of Haibara, who always smiled and encouraged you.

“He’s too serious, but you’ll break through!” Haibara had said with his usual sunny grin. “You’re good for him, you know? Like sunshine cutting through all those storm clouds he carries around.”

Those words had fueled your determination, and when the day finally came, you’d found him sitting under the big tree near the practice field, reading. His tie had been loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and he looked so effortlessly put-together that it made your chest tighten.

“Kento, hey.” you’d called softly, your voice shaky.

He’d looked up, his expression calm as always, though his brow furrowed slightly when he saw the nervous way you fidgeted with your hands. You shouldn’t be nervous like this in front of him, but you were. It was hard, when you felt overwhelmed by someone. 

“Can I talk to you?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded, setting his book aside.

The confession spilled out in a rush, your words tumbling over each other as you tried to make sense of your feelings. You’d told him how much you admired his dedication, how his quiet strength made you feel safe, how you couldn’t stop thinking about him. By the end, your cheeks burned, and your hands trembled.

“I like you, Kento.” you had finished, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami Kento had listened without interrupting, his expression steady but unreadable. When you finished, he let out a quiet sigh, his caramel gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours.

“I don’t think I can give you the answer you’re looking for.” he had said, his voice even but kind. “At least, not right now.”

The words had stung, but they hadn’t been a rejection. You nodded, forcing a smile. “That’s okay, Kento. Don’t worry.” you’d said, and you meant it. You didn’t want to pressure him or push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

Haibara had found you afterward, your head resting on your knees as you tried to process everything. “How’d it go?” he’d asked, sitting beside you.

“He didn’t say no, Haibara.” you’d replied quietly, your lips twitching into a small smile. “That’s something, right?”

Haibara had nudged your shoulder gently. “It’s more than something. He’s just the kind of guy who overthinks everything. You’ve planted the seed, though. Give him time.”

But time had passed, and Nanami Kento left Jujutsu High not long after. You never got another chance to talk to him like that again. You told yourself you were content loving him from afar, finding solace in the way your heart still fluttered at the thought of him.

But when he returned, something in you had stirred—a flicker of hope, fragile yet insistent. Maybe, just maybe, things could be different now. Time has changed both of you. The boy who had quietly declined your feelings at Jujutsu High had grown into a man, more self-assured but still carrying that same steady, composed demeanor that had drawn you to him in the first place.

You were adults now, and that alone made you believe there was a chance. Life has taught you patience, resilience, and the courage to keep trying, even when the odds seemed slim. That was why you hadn’t given up on him.

And so, you pursued him.

Every opportunity to be near him, to share a moment, you seized with the quiet determination that had defined your feelings for years. You sought him out for coffee when you knew he preferred a quiet café to the bustling city. You’d “accidentally” bump into him at the farmers’ market, pretending it was a coincidence even though you’d memorized his routine.

“Kento!” you’d say with a teasing grin when he raised a suspicious brow at you. “What a coincidence running into you here. Do you always buy the same sourdough every Saturday morning?”

He’d sigh, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips, a ghost of a smile he didn’t quite let show. “You’re persistent.”

“Someone’s got to make sure you don’t spend your weekends brooding, you know?” you’d reply, nudging his shoulder. “Come on, loosen up!”

It became a habit, this delicate dance of seeking his company without being too obvious about your intentions. You’d ask him to spar under the guise of “staying sharp” though the truth was, you just liked the way he’d carefully correct your stance or the brief flicker of admiration in his eyes when you managed to land a hit.

“You’ve improved, a lot.” he’d say, his voice calm but laced with sincerity, and it would make your heart race.

“Good teacher, as always!” you’d reply, hoping he couldn’t see how much his approval meant to you.

Every moment with Kento, no matter how mundane, felt like a gift. Whether it was sharing a quiet cup of coffee on a rainy morning, or simply sitting in comfortable silence while reading, there was something in the way he looked at you, spoke to you, and allowed you to be near him that made everything feel extraordinary.

And though he didn’t openly reciprocate your pursuit, even after all these years. Never rushing into declarations of affection or sweeping gestures—he didn’t push you away, either. It was a slow process, but he let you in, bit by bit, his walls coming down in small, subtle ways.

You could see it in the way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You noticed it in the way he trusted you enough to share a casual comment or a fleeting thought during the moments when he felt most comfortable.

One evening, you found yourselves sitting on the couch in his modestly minimal apartment. The sound of the rain pattering against the window and the occasional crackle of the radiator filled the air as the two of you shared a bowl of popcorn. 

Nanami Kento looked so effortlessly at ease, his long legs stretched out and his sweater sleeves pushed up to his forearms as he focused on a historical documentary you’d both stumbled upon online.You leaned your head on his shoulder, your voice soft as you broke the comfortable quiet.

“You know, you’re not as cold as you pretend to be, Kento.” you said, stealing another handful of popcorn.

He glanced at you briefly, his lips parting slightly in surprise before he let out a small, amused chuckle. “Not cold?”

“You’re warm, always.” you said with a grin. “You let me in. You don’t push me away, even when you could.”

There was a moment of silence as Kento stared at the television, his hand resting on the couch beside you. His expression wasn’t guarded, but it wasn’t entirely open either—just enough for you to read the smallest hint of vulnerability.

“I guess I never really had a reason to push you away.” he finally said, his voice low but steady. “Never.”

His words lingered in the air for a moment, and you could tell he’d chosen them carefully. His voice had a softness to it that was rare for him, but just enough for you to feel the weight of his trust.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, catching the faint glow of the television reflecting off his glasses. “Why’s that?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He hesitated for a moment, his shoulders shifting as he adjusted his position, and then he looked at you fully. “Because you make things easier,you make life feel kinder, in some ways.” he admitted, his words simple but honest. “You don’t ask for much, you listen, and you’re just there.”

You held your breath for a moment, your heart tightening at his words. His walls had come down, even if only by a fraction, and you could feel it. His tender tone, his presence, his warmth—it all felt so sincere. Too sincere for you to handle.

“I care about you, Kento.” you said softly, unsure if he truly understood the depth of your feelings.

His caramel gaze lingered on you for a moment, his hand reaching for the bowl of popcorn absentmindedly. His lips pressed together, his expression unreadable, before he looked back at the screen, the conversation shifting back to the documentary.

But the weight of his words, and his willingness to let you in, lingered with you, wrapping you in a warmth that felt both fragile and strong. You knew there was still much more to uncover with Kento, but for now, this….his presence, his openness, his choice to let you stay—it felt like it was more than enough.

And sometimes, enough was everything.

But sometimes, you know that doesn’t fill the hole.

You still wanted more than what enough was.

And that was human of you, truthfully enough.

You weren’t naive enough to think it would be easy. Nothing about life, especially when it came to love, had ever been simple. You knew this, just as you knew there was a layer of reluctance in Kento—a hesitation, a kind of guarded distance he fought to keep even when you could feel the pull between you both.

Kento was, and still is, someone who struggles with the idea of letting go completely. His walls were strong, built from years of experience, loss, and quiet battles that no one but him could fully understand. It was clear to you that he struggled with the need to distance himself.

As if pulling back were his only defense against the weight of inevitable heartache. His fear of loss, perhaps, weighed heaviest on his mind, an unspoken ache that lingered just beneath the surface. And he’s never gotten over it.

He never told you, not in words, though you could feel it. Sometimes, late at night, you could see it in his tired caramel eyes or hear it in the hesitancy of his voice. He still dreams of Yu Haibara sometimes, in the most grievous ways.

And it was there in his moments of quiet, the small ways he hesitated to open up, even when you wanted him to. His reluctance was both a shield and a barrier, but it didn’t mean he didn’t care. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to feel things he does for you.

Because even through that fear, even through his uncertainty, you knew he still wanted you close. He still wanted you around him. His need wasn’t entirely spoken, but you could sense it in the way his hand would linger near yours, in the way his shoulders would relax just a bit when you sat beside him, in the way his smiles felt so much warmer when they were aimed at you.

He wanted your companionship. Your warmth. Your smiles. Even if just for a little while.

And you found yourself wondering if you could ever bridge that gap, if you could ease away the weight of his fears, of his walls, just enough to allow him to breathe. But you knew it wouldn’t come easily. It wasn’t about convincing him or rushing him. It was about staying close without suffocating, about being the kind of presence that felt like home without overwhelming his heart.

So you stayed. Patient. Gentle. Hopeful.

Because sometimes, love wasn’t about having all the answers. Sometimes, it was just about simply the ability to be there. But of course, that didn’t mean you didn’t like being playful with him sometimes. 

Sometimes you ended up teasing, flirting absentmindedly when the mood suited you. It kept things light, kept the tension from building too heavily between you both. And you knew Kento liked it, even if he would never openly admit it.

Now, you watched him, standing by one of the tall windows with his usual composed grace. The snow was falling outside, the icy tendrils of white dancing against the backdrop of the gray sky, and it cast a dreamy, ethereal glow over his figure. 

His sharp handsome features looked even more striking in the pale light, his stoicism seemingly as solid as ever, but something about his posture seemed a bit softer, more contemplative, more… approachable.

He had a half-full glass of champagne in his hand, the bubbles dancing at the surface as if mirroring the cold, soft beauty of the snow. His gaze was fixed outside, distant, a world away from the warm interior you occupied.

You felt that familiar pull—the urge to go to him, to close the distance, to connect. It wasn’t a conscious thing, really. It just happened. And as you took a step toward him, you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you took his hand gently, drawing his attention as you swayed toward him. His stoicism faltered, ever so slightly, his usual confidence wavering under the warmth of your smile.

“Care for a dance?” you asked, your voice light, playful.

His eyes flickered down at you, the quiet surprise in them both unexpected and endearing. He hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding, his lips parting into the faintest, almost-smile. “I suppose one dance couldn’t hurt.”

You held his hand as you moved into a slow, natural rhythm, the sound of the music faint in the background as you swayed together. His movements were smooth, calculated, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders ease as he allowed himself to follow your lead. His fingers were strong, steady, warm as they pressed into your hand, grounding you.

For a moment, everything felt still. The soft sound of the snow outside, the faint music, the warmth of his touch—everything blended into this gentle, fleeting moment that felt like it belonged to just the two of you.

You met his gaze, playful and soft, as you twirled, and he followed you easily, his composure blending seamlessly into the rhythm you created together. You could feel his walls, his hesitation, but this time they felt far less imposing. His defenses, ever so slightly, had come down.

It was in these moments, in these small dances and quiet gestures, that you felt yourself reaching him bit by bit. Not with force or words, but with your presence, your laughter, your warmth. You grinned again as he looked at you, a genuine, rare smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and you knew this was enough.

“Come on.” you teased gently, tugging him toward the floor. “It’s Christmas, Kento. Loosen up a little.”

His grip on your hand tightened briefly, a subtle indication that your forwardness had caught him off guard. Still, he followed, the faintest hint of pink brushing against his ears. As the two of you swayed to the music, you let your fingers glide lightly over his shoulder, relishing the solid warmth beneath your touch. 

“You know, Kento.” you began, your tone playful, “I wasn’t lying earlier. You’re on my wish list this year. Like last year and the year before that.”

Kento raised an eyebrow, but the slight flush deepened across his cheeks. “That so?”

“Mm-hmm.” you replied, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’ve got that whole ‘Santa-but-make-it-dashing’ thing going on. Makes a girl want to write a love letter to the North Pole.”

He cleared his throat, his warm caramel eyes darting away briefly before returning to yours. “I doubt Santa would entertain... that kind of correspondence.”

You leaned in, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “Good thing I’m not sending it to him, then. I’d deliver it straight to you. No middleman required.”

For the first time that night, Kento faltered. His confident posture shifted, and his eyes widened just a fraction. “You’re relentless, you know that?” he murmured, a hand coming up to adjust his tie, though it wasn’t even out of place. “Always have been.”

You laughed softly, the sound warm and teasing. “Oh, Kento, don’t tell me I’ve made you nervous. It’s just a little harmless flirting…….but well,  unless you want it to be more.”

His lips parted, but no immediate response came. That small victory sent a thrill through you, and you leaned closer, just enough that your words were for him alone. “Tell me, does this kind of thing make you uncomfortable? Or are you just not used to someone being so... direct?”

Kento’s hand tightened slightly on your waist, his composed exterior visibly cracking. “It’s not discomfort, not at all.” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “Just unexpected.”

“Unexpectedly charming?” you pressed, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

He exhaled sharply, a sound that might have been a stifled laugh. “Something like that.”

Encouraged, you let your fingertips trace the seam of his suit jacket. “You know, Kento.” you continued, a playful lilt in your voice, “if you’re ever feeling generous this season, you could always fulfill my Christmas wish.”

“And what would that be?” he asked, the words coming out more strained than he probably intended.

You leaned in, your lips barely brushing the shell of his ear. “You. Under the mistletoe.”

When you pulled back to gauge his reaction, you were rewarded with the rarest sight: Nanami Kento, speechless. His hand flexed slightly on your waist, and his gaze flicked away as he struggled to compose himself. He looks at you for a moment. 

“You’re incorrigible, really.” he finally muttered, but his voice betrayed him—soft, amused, and maybe even a little flustered. “You haven’t  changed.”

“Only with you, Kento.” you said sweetly, squeezing his shoulder before stepping back. “But don’t worry, I’ll wait for my gift. After all, good things come to those who are patient.”

As you walked away, a satisfied grin on your lips, you couldn’t help but glance back to find Nanami Kento standing exactly where you’d left him, his calloused fingers brushing absently over his tie, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and something you dared to hope was intrigue.

The night carried on, the hum of conversation and the swell of holiday music forming a cozy backdrop, but you couldn’t keep your attention off Nanami. He had retreated to the edge of the room, standing by one of the tall, arched windows. The faint reflection of twinkling lights played across his face as he stared out at the snowfall, the earlier flush still faintly visible on his well defined cheeks. You decided you weren’t quite done with him yet.

Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing server, you wove your way back through the crowd, your dress swishing lightly with each step. When you approached him, you tilted your head playfully, holding out the glass. 

“For the most stoic man at the ball, our dear Santa.” you teased.

He glanced at you, his lips quivering in what might have been a reluctant smile, and accepted the drink. “I didn’t realize I had a title.”

“Oh, you’ve earned it, Kento.” you said with a wink, leaning against the window frame beside him. “But don’t worry—I like a challenge.”

Nanami Kento took a measured sip of the champagne, but you caught the way his jaw tensed, as though he were bracing himself for whatever you might say next. It only spurred you on to tease him even more.

“So, Kento.” you said, turning slightly to face him. “Are you enjoying the ball, or are you just here to fulfill some jujutsu society obligation?”

He hesitated, clearly weighing his words. “I suppose I’m here out of tradition. And obligations. These events aren’t really my style.”

“I could’ve guessed that, you know.” you said, grinning. “You’re not exactly the life-of-the-party type. But you know, Christmas is about more than tradition. It’s about joy. And sharing it with someone.”

Kento gave you a sidelong look. “You’re quite persistent.”

“And you’re quite stubborn.” you shot back, smiling. “But I think there’s a soft side to you, Kento. One you don’t show often enough.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“Well, for one, you haven’t walked away yet. I’m sure that you could end up doing that, knowing how much I tease you.” you said with a smirk. “And two... you keep looking at me like you don’t know whether to scold me or kiss me.”

His composure faltered again, a faint cough escaping as he set his glass down on the windowsill. “You certainly have an active imagination.”

“Oh, come on,Kento.” you said, your tone playful but insistent. “Admit it—you’re at least a little tempted. And if you’re not, then prove me wrong.”

Kento looked at you then, really looked at you, his sharp gaze softening just slightly. For a moment, you thought you might have pushed too far, but then he straightened, adjusting his tie with a deliberate slowness. 

“I don’t think I need to prove anything.”

“Ah, I see.” you said, stepping closer, emboldened by the flicker of challenge in his tone. “So, you are tempted.”

He said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes. The tension between you was palpable, the space narrowing until you could feel the faint warmth radiating from him. You bit your lip, deciding to go all in.

“Tell you what, Kento.” you said, voice low and teasing. “If you don’t kiss me under a mistletoe by the end of the night, I’ll stop. No more flirting, no more teasing. I’ll leave you alone.”

Kento tilted his head slightly, as if considering your words. “And if I do?”

Your breath hitched at the question, but you managed a grin. “Then I’ll finally have my Christmas wish.”

His lips parted softly, as though he were about to respond, but instead, he exhaled slowly, his warm gaze dipping to your lips for the briefest moment before meeting your bright teasing eyes again. 

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stalling for a while now.” you countered, a laugh bubbling up. “But that’s okay. I can wait. I always will.”

You stepped back, letting the tension linger as you gave him a playful wave and walked away. You didn’t have to look back this time—you knew he was watching. He was trying to memorize this moment, to observe it for what it was. And somehow, you had the distinct feeling that before the night was over, Nanami Kento would be fulfilling your wish.

As you moved away to get another glass of champagne, your heart fluttering with equal parts exhilaration and nervousness, you wondered if perhaps you’d gone too far. But before you could fully retreat into the crowd, you felt a hand on your wrist. It was a gentle, but firm pull enough to stop you in your tracks.

You turned around, with a surprised look on your face as you found Nanami Kento still standing there, his expression unreadable. His warm fingers lingered just a moment before he released you, his caramel gaze steady but softer than you’d ever seen it. The air between you seemed to hum with unspoken words.

“I—” He hesitated, his usual composure slipping just enough to make him seem almost vulnerable. He exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing as if surrendering to something he’d been holding back. “I need to say something. I should have, a long time ago.”

Your pulse quickened, and you nodded, stepping closer. “I’m listening.”

Kento glanced away briefly, as though gathering his thoughts, before looking back at you. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet but steady. “I’ve been aware of your... feelings. For a long time. I always knew about it. You were frank about it.”

Your cheeks flushed at the admission, but you didn’t interrupt. His words felt heavy, deliberate, as if each one had been carefully chosen. You could see the warmth in his eyes and the guilt and the desperation swirling through into one, your reflection echoing softly.

“I didn’t know how to respond, I never have.” he continued. “I thought it was... better to stay distant. With how things are….To keep things professional, I thought it was the best course of action. But… I made you wait. And that wasn’t fair.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly, and when he looked at you again, there was something raw in his eyes. 

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve realized I’ve been lying to myself.”

Your breath caught, and you stared at him, hardly daring to believe what you were hearing. “Kento... you don’t have to—”

He ran a hand through his hair, his usual calm veneer cracking further. “I like you, I think I’ve always have.” he admitted, the words escaping like a confession he could no longer contain. “I’ve liked you for longer than I care to admit. More than I can express in words. Maybe…Maybe if I had loved you less, I’d be more able to talk about it.”

You gasped at his words, your mouth opening as wide as your eyes in surprise. “But I didn’t know how to handle it. You... you’re bold, and relentless, and you make it impossible for me to think clearly. You make it impossible for me to know what to do. Because I’m overwhelmed by you. And I…I surrender to it.”

“Kento, I just….” A surprised laugh bubbled out of you. “This is just….”

Kento gave you a small, self-deprecating smile. “You challenge me in ways I’m not used to. And while I’ve tried to ignore it, I’ve found that I don’t want to anymore. I don’t want to keep playing games, especially tonight.”

Your chest felt like it might burst, a mix of disbelief and elation washing over you. “So... does this mean I get my Christmas wish?”

Kento let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, darling.” you said, stepping closer, your voice playful but trembling with emotion. “You like me anyway.”

He sighed, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “I suppose I do. More than I could ever understand.”

“You made me wait a long time.”

His eyes looked warmly at you. “I know. And I have….I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, for making you wait for so long.” 

Before you could overthink it, you closed the remaining distance between you, your hand resting lightly on his chest.  You smiled at him. “Good. I’ll take that as your apology.”

“Does….does this mean—”

“Kento.” you murmured, your voice soft but sure, looking at his eyes more closely. You smiled at him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

His warm caramel gaze dropped to yours, and for the first time, you saw no hesitation in his eyes. Not one bit. He smiled back at you, his warm palm resting against the tresses at the edge of your hair, tracing it as though to memorize every bit of you.

“I think I do.” he said, his voice low and steady, and then, as if finally giving in to everything he’d been holding back, he leaned down and kissed you.

The world seemed to fade around you, the music and chatter of the ball becoming nothing more than a distant hum. His lips were warm, firm, and deliberate, and the way he held you. His one hand steady at your waist, the other lightly brushing your cheek. It made you feel like the only two people in the room.

Your heart soared, the years of unspoken feelings and quiet longing finally culminating in this perfect moment. His kiss wasn’t rushed or hesitant. Everything about it was purposeful, full of emotions he’d kept bottled up for far too long. Everything about it made you swore into the clouds, ever so happily.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against yours, you couldn’t help the soft, giddy smile that spread across your lips. His face was red as the scarlet sunrise, but he smiled even warmer than that as your gazes lock in an embrace.

“Merry Christmas, Kento.” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with emotion.

He huffed a soft laugh, his breath warm against your skin. “Merry Christmas.” Then, with a smirk that was both rare and devastatingly charming, he added, “I suppose you got your wish after all. After all this time.”

You laughed, the sound bright and uninhibited, before teasing back, “Well, you are my Santa, you always have been.”

“Am I really?” He responded back, heartily.

“You do have a big sack too, so……” You trailed off, leaning closer with a mischievous grin. “Let me unpack it tonight, Santa?”

His face turned into an even more impressive shade of red, his composure slipping for a moment as he stared at you in disbelief. You laughed as he looked away for a moment, trying to gather himself. Your arm wrapped against his own. 

“You—” He cleared his throat, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as if to steady himself. “That’s... incredibly bold.”

You tilted your head playfully, your grin widening. “My boldness worked on you, didn’t it?”

He exhaled sharply, his lips twitching as though trying to suppress a smile. “I’m starting to see that, darling.” he muttered, his voice laced with reluctant amusement.

The nickname had made you feel even more giddy inside. “Hm, I suppose so, my love.”

“I’m sure that you’ll be more creative about it.”

“Well, you are right.” you said, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Stick with me forever, Kento. I have plenty more where that came from.”

Shaking his head, but unable to hide the warmth in his warm mahogany gaze, he leaned in again, ever closer this time. You could feel his voice in a low murmur against your ear. He gives you a small smile as his fingers trace the back of your neck. 

“Something tells me I’m in for quite the adventure.”

“Absolutely, my love.” you said, beaming as his lips found yours once more, sealing not just a moment but the beginning of something you’d both waited far too long for. “Buckle up.”

He snickers. “I look forward to each and every nonsense Christmas then.”

You laughed. “Expect it for all your days too.”

“Hm, that’s what I signed up for.”

[euphorix-moon]

Love Maze

Vi x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Helping Vi realize that she can break out of this loop that's she's in

Warning: Slightly Angsty and slightly out of character

A/n: Arcane season 2 just came out and i'm still reeling from everything, just had to make this cause i was inspired by episode 3 it broke my CaitVi heart

It was just one of those days,

There weren't many days where you would get the house all to yourself to enjoy so you didn't waste the chance to relax when your roommate said she was going out to run some errands.

You were currently enjoying your day re-reading through your favorite book series until you were disturbed by a sudden knock at the door.

You skeptical and slightly annoyed you went to go answer the door. Opening the door is when you came face to face with the pink-haired woman you came to know as Vi. She almost looked slightly surprised to see you at the door but kept her composure

"Is she here ? " Vi asked worriedly

"Hi nice to see you too, but unfortunately your girlfriend isn't here, she went out to do some stuff" you replied

She lightly sighs before saying, "Well if that's the case then I guess I'll wait for her till she gets back. That's fine with you, right ?" She says walking through the door before you can get a response out. You sigh closing the door behind you knowing she would stay and wait either way.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you guys so you took it upon yourself to try and get a conversation going.

"So....what brings you here ?..Is it the same issue again ?"

Vi glares at you but after some time does lightly nods her head to confirm your suspicions. You kept quiet lightly sighing to yourself.

The cycle had become almost predictable at this point: a fight would ignite, Caitlyn would storm off ghosting Vi, and then, a few days later, Vi would return, offering half-hearted apologies that seemed to smooth things over just enough to delay the inevitable crash. Caitlyn never seemed to learn, and neither did Vi. But the truth was, they both were just playing the same tired game, and you wanted all this nonsense to come to an end once and for all.

Here,” you said, slipping behind the counter to make a couple of drinks. “Let’s take the edge off. I’m sure you could use something stronger than water right now.”

Vi didn't argue. She sank down onto the couch, taking a deep breath, clearly exhausted from everything. As you handed her the glass, you kept your tone light, almost casual. "So, how's work? How’s your family? Anything to distract you from… well, everything?"

She gave a weak laugh, taking a sip of her drink. "Work’s fine. Same as usual. Nothing exciting," she muttered, looking down at her hands, clearly distracted. "Family’s... okay. You know how it is, always got something goin on"

You nodded, pretending to listen, but your mind was already working. "Yeah, I get that. But seriously, when’s the last time you actually did something for you, Vi? Like, something that made you feel alive? Not just for Cait, or for your job, but for yourself?"

That was a hook. Vi wasn’t even aware of it. She leaned forward, a little too eager to talk about herself, to talk about anything that didn’t involve the draining mess she was in. She starts going into detail about the many things she's been interested in but never got the chance to due to feeling like she's alway has to balance a thousand things in her life.

"Well if I'm gonna be real honest with you Violet, it sounds like this relationship is just another thing holding you back" you say with sincerity.

"It’s just... it’s not that simple, okay? Violet shot back.

me and her have history. We’ve been through a lot together. And—" she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yeah, things have been tough lately. But we love each other. I know she has her issues, but I really think we can fix this. I don’t want to just... give up on everything we’ve built."

You almost rolled your eyes at the word history—as if that was supposed to make everything else okay.

"Vi," ."You’ve been ‘fixing’ things for months now. You keep telling yourself it’s just a phase, that Cait’s going to change, that things will get better. But they never do. You are stuck in a loop and you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong."

"So, what? You want me to just leave her? After everything? You’re not even trying to help me,You’re supposed to be my friend. You should be supporting me in making this work, not... pushing me away from her!"Vi’s jaw clenched, her chest rising and falling with each breath as if she was holding back.

Her words stung just a little bit but you knew how to respond back. "I am doing this because i care enough to tell you the truth Vi, you deserve so much better than this. Don't let Caitlyn stress you out so much, especially when there's already a lot on your plate".

"You just don't get it. You don’t know what she's like when we’re together,” she says, still feeling obligated to defend her relationship.

"Maybe i don't and i might be wrong about all of this, but all I'm saying is that if you were my girlfriend id be the one coming to apologize and id try to find every possible way to make it up to you." You say leaning closer towards Vi

She sputters trying to find the words to defend herself, every single word unfortunately dying in her throat.

"I’d be the one begging you for another chance after acting like a dumbass. I'd spoil you and not let you do anything till you forgave me" You continued.

The silence that fell between you and Vi after your last words was thick with unspoken things. Vi feels as if her heart is beating out her chest as you continue to close the distance between the two of you guys.

"You do deserve better, Vi," you said, your voice soft but certain. "And when you’re ready, I’ll be here for you. Not just as your friend, but... more than that, if you want. You don’t need Cait to feel loved. I’m not going anywhere."

Vi looked at you, her eyes wide, and in that moment, it was like everything clicked for her

You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to show her that everything she needed wasn’t in Cait. That there was more for her. That she didn’t have to settle.

Just as you leaned forward, your lips barely inches from hers, the door to the room creaked open, and the sudden sound of keys jingling at the front door broke the fragile bubble that had formed between the two of you.

You two quickly back away from each other, moving to the opposite sides of the couch, averting eyes as Caitlyn walks into the room

A/n: Sorry for the cliffhanger and sorry to all the caitvi shippers, i love them too...i just can't pretend that i wouldn't want vi if they broke up fr.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Cruel Summer

no rules in breakable heaven

Pairing: Jaime Tartt x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ - smut(f receiving oral, other implied nonsense, cursing

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: clearly I’ve gotten caught up in the babygirl wave, my lovely wife @andr0medafallen helped me immensely and I love her. Also I’m just a slutty little virgin so I can’t be held accountable for any inaccuracies

Conversations are swirling around you, music is blasting from a building down the street, you’re keenly aware of the blood pumping in your veins, and you need a goddamn break.

You loved spending time with Keeley, you really did, but it’s hot and muggy outside, and this is the fifth party you’d been to in the past week. Tonight, at least, is with the Richmond boys, and not some friend of a friend of Keeley’s where all you do is stand in the corner and drink by yourself. Keeley, ever the social butterfly, is off chatting with Rebecca and Leslie, giving you the opportunity to focus on not losing your mind.

It’s strange, to feel so simultaneously alive and asleep, and you could swear you can feel the air buzzing in your ears. You simultaneously want to go to bed and to stay awake for the rest of the night, it’s like your mind can’t figure out what it needs.

And then Jamie’s walking over to you and the world comes back into focus.

The two of you aren’t very close, connected mostly through your separate friendships with Keeley, but from what you’ve heard from her and from the internet, he seems to be turning over a new leaf. Though, there was a part of you that enjoyed his bad boy attitude, even when he was a bit of a dick.

Maybe you just had a thing for men who were emotionally unavailable.

“Want me to walk you home?” Jamie says after a few seconds of standing next to each other in silence, shocking you out of your silent appraisal of your surroundings.

“Huh?” Clearly, your brain-mouth connection is taking a while to get up to speed.

“You seem kinda out of it, I know you came with Keeley, figured I should ask if you wanted to leave.”

The kindness of his offer is a little shocking in the way it’s so purely sweet, and again, your brain seems a little slow on the draw.

“I’m alright, I can call a car in a bit,” you tell him, not wanting to drag him away from a fun night just because he saw you acting all mopey and uncomfortable.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind getting outta here,” and then it’s clear to you that his offer is simply an excuse for him to leave the party, and while your heart drops a little you can’t say you blame him.

“What the hell,” you respond anyway, finishing your drink before you turn to follow Jamie out of the party, stopping by Keeley to let her know you’re headed home.

The walk back to your place is mostly silent, the air hanging heavy and thick as you try to figure Jamie out. It’s clear that he’s changed from the first time you’d met him, back when he was only Keeley’s douchebag of a boyfriend, shortly before his stint on reality TV. Now, though, he seems different in some way that you can’t quite puzzle out.

“Wanna come up?” You offer, your heart and your brain in a heated argument over how awful and irresponsible of a decision that is.

“Nah, I’m alright,” he sticks his hands in his pockets and you try not to let your heart sink onto the ground with this cool-guy routine of his.

Still, you thank him for taking you home and head up to your apartment, flicking off your shoes and berating yourself for acting the way you did. Even though you’re an adult, and wanting to sleep with someone doesn’t make you a bad person, there’s a layer of guilt that hangs over your simple question, over your desires.

Maybe it’s because he’s Keeley’s ex, and even though she’s moved on and found her perfect match, girl code says you shouldn’t even look at him. Maybe it’s because as far as you know, he’s an awful person who would treat you like nothing. Or maybe it’s because he’s actually worked on himself and you’re going to self-sabotage anything good that could even possibly happen.

The guilt you taste at the back of your mouth doesn’t change the fact that you want him, though, so you throw a longing glance out your window and are surprised to see Jamie still standing on the street below. As quick as you can in your old building, you unlatch the window and push it open, sticking your head out.

“Change your mind?” You ask, a grin spreading on your face when Jamie jumps at the sound of your voice.

“That ok?” He throws back, looking a little bashful and so unfairly adorable that he makes you a little dizzy. You just nod in response, and he seems to get the message because he disappears from view and a few seconds later, there’s a knock at your door.

Briefly, you wonder if he ran up the stairs.

There’s a part of your brain that keeps screaming about how this is a bad idea, that come morning you’re going to regret this, but you do your best to ignore it as you close the door behind Jamie and press your lips to his. His hands find your waist, settling there with a firm grasp, and you hope you never need oxygen again.

It’s addicting, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, and you do your best to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your mind that you’re never going to be able to move on from this and instead just enjoy yourself. Moving on autopilot, you find yourself at your bedroom door, and feeling lightheaded you pull away from Jamie and rest your forehead on his.

“Can I?” He breathes against your mouth, fingers grasping the bottom hem of your shirt. You nod enthusiastically, your nose brushing against his. Once your shirt is flung somewhere into the depths of your room, Jamie’s hands settle on your bare ribs.

Pushing every worry you have to the back of your brain, you follow Jamie’s lead and, with his help, pull his shirt over his head as he walks you back towards your bed. Obviously, you’d known he was fit, but seeing him so close, so open to your touch is a whole other feeling. You want to trace his entire body, his scars and bruises and tattoos, first with your hands and then with your mouth.

“This is just a one time thing, yeah?” Jamie asks as your hands settle onto his jaw, trying to bring him in for another kiss.

“Yeah, of course,” you respond, being the cool girl you know you’re meant to be even as you fantasize about hearing the stories behind his tattoos and spending mornings together.

It’s practically impossible for you to keep your hands off of him, every layer removed giving you more of his skin to explore. Jamie, though, seems just as greedy as you are, kissing and touching his way across your body. You feel alive, electric in ways you’ve never felt before. It’s as if every moment you spend with Jamie, he takes up more and more space in your brain, until he’s all you can think about.

Jamie, as he bites that sensitive spot underneath your jaw bone with a grin.

Jamie, as he trails kisses down the center of your body, from your sternum to your belly button.

Jamie, as he moves lower and lower, his hands resting on your inner thighs.

Jamie, he’s all you think about until you can’t think of anything, your mind shut off and your body rewired as you feel like you’re exploding from the inside out.

And then everything comes rushing back in, all the sounds and scents and feelings of your apartment, all the thoughts you’d tried to keep away. You still haven’t said anything, focusing on breathing and not floating away.

“You need water or something?” Jamie asks from his spot on the pillow next to you, watching as your breath continues to heave in and out of your chest.

“This is my place, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You retort once it feels as if your heart won’t escape your chest.

“There aren’t any rules about who gets water.” You watch as a smirk grows across his face, “Besides, you look like you need it more than me.”

Trying not to give in to his teasing, you hide your face in your hands and groan, “Maybe that means you should have been trying harder.” He shrugs, conceding before he slips off your bed and begins the hunt around for his clothes. You wish you could ask him to stay, even just for a few minutes longer, but instead you shrug on a large t-shirt and walk him to the door.

“See you around,” you offer as you lean in the doorway, Jamie making his way to the stairs.

“Yeah, sure, see ya.” And then you're left all alone again, your brain running wild within your skull, so you make your way back to your bed in the hopes that you can fall asleep and pretend you aren’t regretting all of your life decisions.

The next few times you see Jamie, the two of you talk sparingly, sticking mainly to waves across the room or slightly uncomfortable smiles. And it’s a shame, because you’ve found that you actually enjoy talking to Jamie, but now you’re not so certain you can handle yourself around him.

Even though you know Jamie’s not looking for a relationship, it’s hard not to think about what you’d be like together, if you’d even work out, because in your mind, what’s the point of trying if you know you’re going to fail? Why would you enter into a relationship with someone if you know it couldn’t possibly last?

“Hey,” a voice says from behind, shocking you out of your introspection. You jump, ready to scold whoever snuck up on you when you hear Jamie’s laughter, happy and loose.

“Jesus, Jamie, you scared me to death,” you tell him as his laughter dies down, eyes scanning for anyone watching your interactions. You know that no one cares, that people have casual relationships all the time, but you can’t help but feel like you’d be judged for doing the same.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice, from his eyes, from the way he’s holding himself, what he’s really asking you.

“I thought that was a one time thing?” You hide your smile by taking a sip of your drink and delighting in the way Jamie’s cheeks redden.

“What I meant was, it’s just a no-strings-attached thing.”

“I’m flattered,” you tell him, already turning to leave and planning your text to Keeley that you hadn’t felt well and called an Uber to leave early.

Instead of an Uber, though, you find yourself pressed up against Jamie’s car, his hands holding your waist and his tongue down your throat. As much as you loved the attention, you pulled away, placing a gentle hand on his cheek when he tried to follow.

“Someone could see,” you whisper against him, trying to keep an ear out for anyone else leaving the small party at Colin’s house. This seems to bring Jamie back to his senses, though, because he unlocks his car and slips inside, but only after he kisses you one last time.

The drive to his place is short, leaving the two of you sitting in his driveway, no sounds but the noises filtering in through the cracked windows. There’s something about this, about him, that just feels like summer, like late sleepless nights and days spent in bed.

Even though neither of you have spoken about it, you can tell that whatever relationship you have with Jamie ends with the summer. You know this is for the best, knowing that once training and games pick up again he’ll barely have time for friends, let alone any other kind of relationship, but you hate the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels like there’s an expiration date, some dark cloud looming over your sunny day, and it’s making it hard to enjoy the time you do have with Jamie.

You’d never say any of this to him, though, because you’re not even sure if you’re really friends, if this relationship you have is anything beyond physical. It’s not as though you sit around pining after Jamie Tartt all day, but you can’t help but feel left out whenever you see him with his actual friends, as if you’re missing something important about him. The two of you have a surface level connection, and you’re fine with that, you really are, it’s just hard not to get caught up in your own head.

Jamie, though, is doing his best to get rid of seemingly every thought you have, leaning over the center console to kiss you again. It’s cramped and a little awkward and you don’t have any room to move around, but you can’t stop. Eventually, the two of you break apart for long enough to stumble into Jamie’s house and then you’re being pushed backwards to his bedroom.

The realization hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever been to Jamie’s house, and you can’t help but look around his bedroom, taking in all of his choices in decorations and knick-knacks.

“That’s a pretty color,” you say absentmindedly, starting off into his room.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Jamie asks, pulling back from where he’d been sucking a mark onto your chest.

You can’t help but laugh, loud and unrestrained, as you run your fingers through the strands of hair hanging in Jamie’s eyes, giving them a gentle tug. Looking down after you catch your breath, you notice Jamie smiling at you and suddenly you feel too exposed, too open and you want to turn and run and never see him again but instead you use your light grip on his hair to pull him up for a kiss.

There’s a strange feeling deep in your stomach, one that you plan to ignore for as long as you can because it’s distracting you from Jamie. At first, you’d just thought it was the want filling your body, the urge to pull him impossibly close and feel him impossibly deep, but the feeling’s still there hours later as you lie boneless and sleepy.

Jamie’s off getting you some water, even though you never asked for any, and when he returns you’re dozing on his pillow, resisting the urge to snuggle under his sheets.

“You can just stay here tonight, if you want,” Jamie offers, sitting on the other side of the bed and staring off into space before quietly adding, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Your bed is pretty comfortable,” you reply, thankful that you don’t have to get up and go searching for your clothes.

Instead, Jamie hands you the glass of water and a t-shirt, one that you gratefully slip on before getting under the covers. You fall asleep almost immediately, exhaustion spread throughout your entire body and mind, so you never know that Jamie lies awake almost the whole night, staring at the ceiling and trying not to wake you up or think about how perfect you look while asleep next to him.

When you do wake up, it’s with the sun streaming through the windows and Jamie’s arm slung over your waist. The two of you are impossibly close, both sharing the same pillow despite the size of his bed. It pains you to notice that he’s incredibly adorable when he’s sleeping. Part of you wants to kiss him all over and wake him, but the other just wants to let him sleep forever, watching as he breathes.

Luckily, you don’t need to make that choice, as Jamie’s eyes flutter open and you can see when he realizes just how close the two of you are and he tries to play it smooth but he scoots back to the side he fell asleep on.

“Did you sleep alright?” He asks, and you’re more focused on the scratchy way his voice sounds than the actual question. You just nod, hoping that was the right answer and delighting when he smiles, all soft and sweet and just for you.

You need to leave, get out while you still can before you end up spending the whole day with Jamie, because you know if you stay for a second longer you’re never going to want to leave him. Most of your time together was spent sleeping, but it's already almost impossibly hard to leave him. While you still have your resolve, you slip out of his insanely comfortable bed and go hunting for your clothes. It kills you a little inside when Jamie doesn’t stop you.

“Want me to drive you?” He asks, sitting up and moving to get out of bed and you need to stop yourself from staring at his toned chest, at the shorts low on his hips.

“No, I can just walk, it’s a nice day,” you lie, having no idea what the weather was like but hoping that summer wouldn’t let you down. Jamie nods, settles back into bed, and you could swear your heart physically aches because none of this should be happening.

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place, but here you are not wanting to leave. You shouldn’t be staring at him, with his mussed hair and his tattoos on full display. You shouldn’t have any feelings for him besides physical attraction and the basic feelings of friendship, but you’re starting to worry about that feeling in your belly that just grows and grows every second you spend with Jamie.

“See you around,” you tell him, leaving as quickly as you can before you convince yourself to stay any longer. You wander around London, all turned around and trying to find your flat without thinking of Jamie, while Jamie sits at home and tries not to think of you.

The rest of your day is spent doing meaningless activities, chores and work you’d been putting off for weeks. You wash your sheets and clean your fridge and respond to emails, trying your hardest to keep your mind off Jamie. It’s impossible, and the second you find yourself distracted, your mind wanders right back to him. What you really need is to leave your house, find someplace with blasting music and bodies pressed impossibly close, somewhere that you’ll have no space to think of anything, let alone Jamie.

Lucky for you, Keeley stays busy, always having one event or another she needs to go to and she always lets you tag along. Tonight your mission is to stop thinking of Jamie, even if that doesn’t mean going home with someone else. Just for a few hours, you don’t need him consuming your every thought.

Unfortunately for you, Jamie is always welcome with Keeley and has the same exact plan as you.

The air inside the bar is stifling, as if there’s no air conditioning and no windows, just the thick summer heat. You notice Jamie almost immediately, though it would be impossible not to with his highlights and his beaming smile, like your own personal sun. As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but wonder if he noticed you at all, if he thinks of you at all when you’re not together.

You’re two drinks deep and you can’t help but think about Jamie, about what he thinks of you. Are you really just someone to fuck, someone who’s attractive enough for him to sleep with you whenever he feels the urge?

You’re three drinks deep and you can’t help but wonder if you could ever be anything more to him, if he’d ever want that. It’s common knowledge that Jamie’s still a little hooked on Keeley, and who could blame him, but are you really just a distraction?

You’re four drinks deep and you can’t stop crying, the tears flowing like rivers as Keeley and Rebecca try their best to comfort you, to calm you down. Eventually, Rebecca calls you a car and Keeley waits with you, ready to leave and make sure you get home safely.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” you say through your sobs as you sit in the backseat on your way to your apartment, Keeley rubbing up and down your arms in a soothing manner.

“This isn’t about Jamie, is it?” She asks in that kind, understanding voice of hers and it only makes you cry harder.

“I think I love him and it fucking sucks.” Keeley’s hand moves to smooth over your hair as you lean against her, all the fight draining out of your body.

“Babe, just tell him.” You can’t help but shoot her a glare, one that she brushes off with a laugh, “What’s the worst that could happen? He won’t sleep with you anymore?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked to your core that Keeley knew about what the two of you had been doing and your heart breaks a little more because you feel like you’ve just betrayed one of your best friends. Keeley, though, gives you a supportive little squeeze, one that tells you that she isn’t mad at all.

That was one of your favorite things about Keeley, how supportive she is of all of the people she loves, no matter the situation. She’s wise beyond her years and is the kind of person who will go out and get whatever she wants through her own hard work and determination. Keeley is absolutely someone you need on your side, and it hits you just how thankful you are for her and all she does for you.

Here you are, sobbing over a boy, and Keeley does nothing but support you and try to help you calm down. She doesn’t look at you like you’re over-dramatic or crazy and instead is doing her best to fix whatever was making you feel this way.

“Clearly, this whole situation-ship is hurting you, and if he doesn’t want the same things as you, maybe it’s time to let it end,” she finishes with another loving squeeze, just as the car pulls up outside of your building.

The two of you slide out of the car, Keeley offering you her hand as she helps you up to your apartment and you’re left reeling by what she’s said. You didn’t even know you wanted something more until it hit you like a ton of bricks tonight, Jamie consuming your thoughts in all the wrong ways. You know Keeley’s right, that whatever you have going on is only going to hurt you in the long run, so you resolve to tell him everything the next time you see him.

Keeley’s wise words from the car and the glass of water she gave you before she left after confirming no less than ten times that you were okay have you sobering up rather quickly. You’re left feeling embarrassed and exhausted to the bone, wanting nothing more than to lay down in your bed and stay there for the next hundred years, but suddenly there’s a knock at your door and Jamie’s standing outside.

“Keeley let me in, hope that’s ok,” he tells you, seeming slightly uncomfortable and you briefly wonder if it’s because of your puffy eyes and slightly disheveled appearance, embarrassment coursing hot through your blood. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Jamie always keeps you on your toes, and though you know this isn’t a big deal, it warms your heart all the same. Jamie Tartt, drama queen footballer and prick reality star, is at your front door to see if you’re ok because you left a bar crying. You’d promised yourself that the next time you saw Jamie, you’d sit him down and talk about your feelings, vowing that you wouldn’t hide them anymore.

But here Jamie is, being all sweet and concerned, and that plan goes out the window. There’s just something about him that makes all the sense leave your body, so instead of having a conversation about your feelings you pull him down by his shoulders and kiss him.

It’s messy and desperate, and even though you’ve sobered up since leaving the bar, your head is spinning and your thoughts are starting to become consumed with Jamie. There’s a weight behind it this time, one that you’re sure the both of you are aware of, because Jamie’s hands are gripping your waist with a bruising force and you barely even pull away from him to breathe.

Both of you know something is going to change.

As you make your way to your bedroom, clothing is thrown down the hallway, a sock here and a shoe there, until you almost trip trying to remove your pants. Luckily for you, though, after what seemed like a miles long walk, you finally reached your bedroom door.

Jamie pushes you gently inside, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to breathe the same air, and he keeps pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it with a sound of surprise. Jamie just smiles, but it’s soft in a way that makes your insides melt and not the cocky smile he has whenever he scores a goal.

You scramble to sit up, to take your shirt off, but your brain shuts off when you see Jamie get on his knees in front of you. More gently than you ever could have imagined, he tugs on the hem of your pants, bringing them down your hips until you need to push off of the bed to get them down the rest of the way. He continues to pull until they slip free of your feet, and by the time he’s standing again you’re throwing yourself upward to kiss him.

There’s just something about him that makes you want to be near him all the time, like a moth to the flame. It doesn’t feel self destructive though, and that’s what scares you. It scares you that you might be hurting yourself without knowing but it scares you more that this might not hurt you at all.

It’s always a little shocking to you just how gentle Jamie is, the soft way he cradles your jaw when he kisses you and the way he runs his hands up and down your back when he can tell everything is starting to get overwhelming. Of course, he can be plenty rough and you have the bite marks on your thighs and the hickeys on your chest to prove it, but it seems like it’s in his nature to be soft with you.

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, fingers playing gentling with the hem of your shirt.

“100%,” you reply, and give him a quick kiss to reaffirm your statement. Now, he wastes no time in pulling off your shirt and starting to remove his own clothes. It makes you pause, standing there by the foot of your bed in the process of removing your bra, because suddenly he’s shirtless and it never gets any less surprising despite the many times you’ve been in this situation.

It’s not like your being subtle in your ogling, and Jamie just smirks when he sees you staring. He pushes you back onto the bed, softer this time, and you scoot yourself backwards until your head is resting on the pillows. Jamie joins you, pushing your legs open wider so there's room for him to lay in between them.

Then, you’re almost certain you’ve died and gone to heaven because he’s slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. You’re absolutely no help, lying there pliant for him to maneuver however he sees fit because you’re fully convinced your brain has stopped working.

It’s a little startling, how well Jamie knows your body. He always knows the right pressure and movement and location to make you see stars, make your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drop open. You’d think that he’d be all bark and no bite, but it’s so clear to you now that he has the skills to back up his attitude.

You have the bite marks to prove it.

Your fingers are itching for something to grab onto, something more substantial than grasping at your bedsheets, so you gently twist Jamie’s hair around your fingers, just enough to ground you, to keep you anchored to your body when you feel like you’re seconds from floating away.

It feels too good, too overwhelming, you’re unable to control any of the sounds that come out of your mouth. Jamie’s hands are gripping, digging into the flesh of your thighs and it stings where his fingernails dig in but it’s so perfect you can’t help the way you whine.

The connection between your brain and your mouth must be severed because you keep babbling away about how good, how perfect everything feels. You’re not thinking at all, only able to focus on the feelings building deep in your belly until Jamie licks at your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you just fucking lose it. Your mouth drops open and you’re completely unaware of the sounds that come pouring out of your mouth until, “I fucking love you.”

It’s like you’ve been doused in a bucket of ice water and Jamie’s pulling away and you’re fucking terrified and the pleasure that’s been building inside your body is completely replaced with dread. After you feel Jamie pulling back, you turn your gaze from the ceiling down to between your legs where Jamie still lies.

He just grins, looking like sin himself with your slick making his mouth all shiny and glossy. And then he gets right back to work, nipping at your inner thigh before doubling down his attention, working twice as hard and you don’t even remember what you’ve said because you’re thrown headfirst back into the intensity of Jamie’s full skill and attention.

It’s only seconds later when you’re almost certain that you’ve died, feeling like an exploding star as your back arches off the bed and you dig your fingers harder into Jamie’s hair and your mouth falls open again. When you regain your sense of existence, your body feels tingly all over as if the remnants of your orgasm are still coursing through your veins.

Breathing hard, you look down to see Jamie resting his head on one of your thighs, just waiting for you to come down from your high. He places a kiss over one of the marks he made on your inner thigh before he crawls up the bed to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

He disappears after that, and you’re a little worried that he’s left you like this before he comes back a few minutes later, with a glass of water and a plate of snacks. The thought of him trifling through your cupboard makes your heart stutter a little and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you can only manage to give him a small smile in thanks.

The two of you sit quietly side by side on your bed, eating the snacks Jamie had brought. He checks in on you again and again, making sure you’re totally comfortable. And then, he clears his throat and shifts around, looking uncomfortable and you can feel your heart rising into your throat, dread gripping at your stomach.

“Are we gonna talk about what you said?” He asks, tracing shapes on the bare skin of your knee as he talks and looks anywhere but your face.

“I think I meant it,” you tell him, feeling as if your whole world is crashing down around you. There are other important things in your life, work and friends and family, but there’s something about Jamie that even after the limited time you’ve had together, the thought of losing him makes you sick to your stomach.

“Good, that’s good to know.” He goes quiet for a moment but his fingers never still in their drawing, “I think so too.”

“Good,” you tell him with a smile, one that he returns and it makes you want to cry because he’s so gorgeous and wonderful and you won’t be losing him after all, there’s a hope for you, a future, and that’s all you need.

You know nothing is certain and there are plenty of things that could go wrong, but you try to bask in the afterglow of what’s been confessed the same way you’d lay in the sunshine. You feel warm and happy and you’re determined to hang onto those feelings, to enjoy the time you spend with Jamie instead of worrying that everything will come crashing down.

There’s just something about him, something that makes your worrying come to a pause whenever you’re with him. He brings you an unexpected sort of peace, one that you vow to enjoy now that you’re not worrying when it will disappear, when he’ll disappear. For once, that feeling in your chest isn’t one of anxiety but one that you’re convinced is love.

You love Jamie Tartt, and that thought isn’t as scary as it once was.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @pazvizslasprincess @scaramou @parcelofbread @lightninginab0ttle @curlypeter @maggiecc @percysaidnever

[xoxochb]

hihihi i have a percy request pleasee

a black sheep aphrodite fem!reader, who was hurt by love once and now doesn’t believe in it so doesn’t really fit in w the rest of the cabin yk, and percy get stuck in a closet in a game of seven minutes of heaven??

please and ty my love

⋆·˚ ༘ * all because I liked a boy

warnings: none

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite

aphrodite’s offsprings are always affiliated with love. there was never a case where one hated it, until you. you didn’t believe in it like you used to

you used to be in love once, it was with a boy who didn’t reciprocate your feelings. you spent months pining over him and when you finally worked up the guts to confess he rejected you, after that you haven’t believed love was real. how could it have been real if you spent months loving a boy just for him to not love you back?

unfortunately love was everywhere. in the books you read, in your cabin, in the air, wherever you looked, in conversations, you couldn’t escape it and it killed you.

on the other hand, percy jackson was enamored with you. every thought consisted of you, your face, your laugh, your smile, your voice, your hair, absolutely everything about you had him in a lovesick spell

there was a problem with this though: you didn’t believe in love. how could you ever love him back? he had an idea to fix this though, and it was genius

🌸

you sit uncomfortably in cabin ten. your friends sitting around in a circle, talking about love nonsense, nothing you care to listen to- that was until you heard your name linked with percy’s

“what?” you turn to many different faces looking for an answer

“you, percy, closet, seven minutes” silena points to the closet door with a smirk, and you look to percy who wears a similar expression

he stands up and holds a hand out for you, which you take and let him lead you to the closet

“is there a light in here?” percy asks upon closing the closet door

“it broke last week, we haven’t gotten a new one yet” you explain

“okay…”

you now stand uncomfortably

“can we talk?” you hear percy ask

“I suppose”

“good, good. uhm- well I don’t really have this planned out so I guess I’m just gonna say whatever comes to mind.” he takes in a deep breath before continuing, “I really like you, and I know that you don’t really ‘believe in love’ anymore because of some idiot who rejected you, but I want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you, you mean a lot to me and I think that you deserve love, and before you say anything I know that you might have some issues with this which is why I want to assure you that I will treat you right. you know everything I do is always for you, I always make sure you’re comfortable in every situation, always make sure you’re staying alive when sick, I always put your needs before mine- if I had to chose between healing my stab wound before I die or healing yours before you die, I would chose you in a heartbeat, no hesitation whatsoever. I would do everything in my power to assure your happiness even if that means putting myself in life-threatening situations or pulling impossible stunts. If you wanted me to jump off the tallest mountain I would do it, if you wanted me to stab myself I would gladly do it, I’m not sure if this is enough to let you know that I would never break your heart, but I really mean it, swear it even, I swear on my life. anyways to wrap this up, I really love you, I hope you know that, and I’ll give you every right to reject me or hate me I just wanted you to know that I’ll always be here if you change your mind on the whole love situation.”

you stand in mere shock. how long has he been waiting to say this? (it had been since you met but he wouldn’t tell you this)

“percy?”

“yeah?”

“where are you?”

you feel around until his hands take hold of your elbows, keeping you in place. you rest your hands around his biceps before speaking again:

“do you mean it?”

“of course I do, angel”

there’s silence for a moment

“how many minutes left?”

“five maybe? why?”

“no reason” yes there is, you wanted to shamelessly make out with him. you couldn’t say that though

“y/n/n?”

“yeah?”

“can I kiss you?” oh so he’s a mind reader now?

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t want you to”

the moment he got confirmation his lips met yours. how he could see in the dark, you were unsure. but you were just glad you got your happy ending

[bun-z-bakery]

(Repost from my abandoned account) these are just my personal head canons for dogday. this is a survivor au

(All characters are over 18 btw)

-dogday sometimes has dog like tendencies, like growling, barking etc.

-he doesn't remember a lot about his life as a worker but will share stories he remembers of his human life once you two become close.

-man is like a love sick puppy. First you save him? Give him legs? AND a home?! And his friends are here too?! You really are his angel.

-he's very protective of his angel. He can't have anyone take them away or even hurt them. Plus all those years locked away, he can't loose you, you're his hope.

-this man will most certainly plan his confession, script and all. Maybe you're away at work and this is something he's been working on for a while. He's always bringing you little gifts on his hunting trips (depending on if you like to collect rocks and such) but this dude went out of his way to find the best of the best. Even somehow found flowers beautiful enough to almost rival your beauty, keyword: almost.

-he enjoys spending time with you, poppy and kissy, he enjoys playing outside with you three, even if you guys have been out of the factory for years already. They still enjoy the outside world.

-I know bro is huge, like dude is taller than an American door way (according to some measurements fans have made, hes 9'5) if you're a shorty (like me 5 feet even😭) he will most definitely pick you up and carry you like a dogtoy. He likes the feeling of carrying his angel, it gives him a sense of pride doing so. Even if you accidentally hit the ceiling or he needs to really get down so you don't hit the top of the doorframe, he will always apologize or joke about it.

-he's a cuddler, he LOVES cuddling! He has his own giant dog bed in your shared room, but he prefers to sleep on your shared bed. If you're away from work and he's eepy, he'll pass out on your bed because it smells like you. Your scent keeps him at bay until you come home. Poor guy will shoot up and push anyone out of his way to be the first to get to you! He sits there on the floor waiting for his mandatory headpats and kisses as soon as he hears your keys.

-it takes his brain a few minutes to properly turn on. After all those years he finally gets proper sleep, I can imagine you waking up first and getting ready for the day to prepare breakfast for the group and you poke him, trying to wake him. He'll mumble some random stuff about not letting rats do taxes then fall back asleep only to be woken again by your pokes still talking nonsense. I can also see him sometimes waking up confused, you know like when you wake up your parents and they're mad for no reason asking what's wrong while gasping for air? (Just me?) I can see him being THAT dead asleep bhahsha

-my take on the survivor au is more of a modern take (as in yes the factory closed years also but reader is possibly in early to late 20s sometime in 20xx / non specified year) so they weren't an employee but probably knew someone like a family member who worked there or was dared to enter the factory (we'll see if I ever post my fanfic haha as these hcs kinda tie into that story) so dogday being alive in the 80s or 90s he probably has like the old school idea of love and attempts to swoon you as such. The flowers, cheesy pick up lines.

-I can imagine because he's not up to date with the newer terms and he might be confused while trying to seem cool haha. "Angel what does rizzler mean?" (Poor peepaw)

- Personally I love the theory that DogDay is an ex worker aka Rich. Which is probably why he was the leader of the smiling critters. Because he was mature enough to make sure everyone was in line/well behaved, I also think some other workers were turned into the mascots too (obviously) but maybe they trusted Rich more so they just threw him into the dance circle and hope that he'd be a good leader.

- this one ties into the first one btw! I like the think that maybe he was one of the mascots when he worked there. Like a guy in the costume who worked with the kids (hence the zipper, how else would the workers get into the bigger body suits?)

- I like to think DogDay likes when Angel calls him by his old human name. Maybe once he opens up more about his human life (or at least bringing up some of the memories he still has) he just randomly brings up his name when talking about a memory and hearing Angel repeat his name back, he'd probably like hearing it. It might make him feel like less of a monster in a sense. Granted I think he wouldn't care about what Angel calls him but he would most definitely prefer for them to alternate. Like you know when someone makes you mad and you use their real name instead of their nickname? He'd hate for his Angel to get mad, especially at him. But when living with 3 other people it can get a bit hectic.

"DogDay! Did you bring mud into the house?!"

"N-No!... "

*silence*

"RICH, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

*footsteps are heard and DogDay bolts out the door*

- Now this head canon I have can go either one of two ways, right? Hear me out. Listen up, listen carefully, and listen closely. (Lmk if you got that reference) ok so back to the zipper! I think the zipper just opens to his organs tbh like the zipper was just left functional in case he needed to be "repaired internally". BUT another thought, I also can see there being some sort of barrier! You know those stuff animals who have their stuffing blocked by a barrier so it doesn't fall out but the zipper opens to a compartment where you can store items? I kinda think that's whats there tbh, I mean it makes sense. What if one of the kids opened the zipper by mistake? Surely there would be a barrier just in case.

- as I mentioned in the last hc post, I can see him trying to swoon Angel in the old romantic type of way. I can see him pinning after Angel hard, at first they wouldn't get the hint, they'd probably think he's thinks he's indebted to them for rescuing them and giving the 3 of them a better and new life. But quickly they realize bro is in love. Of course poppy teases him about it too at some point lol. He doesn't really try to hide it either. I can see poppy and kissy thinking it's sweet and first then they get annoyed once you're the only thing he talk about lol.

- You're married. That's all! No but I can see in his mind you two are basically married. He'd probably want to have new custom star collars made for both of you or maybe even a ring for you and a matching collar or something for him to wear and propose. Of course it will bother him a bit because he can't go out with you, take you on dates or show you off but he trusts you (even though he gets jealous when you smell like someone else) he basically tries his best with what you guys have (If only there was a holiday that came once a year where you guys could go out dressed in customs without looking like freaks).

- He looks like the type of guy who would love pasta. I'm not sure why or how this even came into mind but I just feel like that's what he often wants for dinner. Poppy would probably eat fruit for dinner, kissy isn't really picky, but Dogday would probably be asking for either pasta or meat. Also I think Angel would be hesitant to feed certain foods to Dogday because you know, he's a dog (not really but hear me out) but because he acts like one at times I could see Angel being like haha nope you can't eat this!

*Angel eating chocolate cookies*

"May I have some?" *cutely pouts*

"I don't want you dying, love."

"You know I'm not actually a dog...right?"

ok ok you got me there" (they just really didn't wanna share lol)

- tbh this is more of a general head canon for the toys but I seeing as they had to resort to c*nnibalism. They clearly need food and water to survive. I think catcap was probably keep Dogday alive as a "lol now look at you now, look at me" (yes that's a BP reference) moment but only feeds him when he felt like it, since food is basically scarce in that place. I think that their human organs were transferred over but little things like veins, teeth, tongue, blood vessels basically anything that's not a major organ was made artificially and connected in a sense to those major organs making them function as such.

Yeah that's kinda it lol, there might be some more parts to this if I can think of anything else! But yeahhh that's kinda my hc and rambles lol (I tend to ramble a lot especially when I have to give context, I apologize!)

[glassica-writes]

Bad Ending

Notes: M!yan sidekick x Gn!reader hero, betrayal, drugging, confinement, mild noncon touching & kissing

That's it. No more of this revenge nonsense, you'll have to come with him regardless.

You noticed from the start, those intense feelings he harbored towards you were anything but mere adoration for a friend. Didn't settle with just being one of your companions, the man was convinced, or rather adamant, that he was the rightful partner you couldn’t live without, and my God did he was determined to prove it at all cost! His investigative skills were instrumental to track down the culprits behind the ruin of your family. The team never had to worry about getting stranded throughout the journey, all thanks to his incredible network introducing you to helpful locals and navigate through cities and underground system. Espionage? Fear not, years of working in palaces taught him enough etiquette of nobles to pass off as one, successfully infiltrated into the enemies’ inner circles.

The man worked, worked, and worked to the bone, hoping that one day you’d recognize how irreplaceable he was to you, accepting his fervent affections at last. He would softly put his lips on your palm, like any gentleman supposed to, congratulating your long-awaited victory over the sunset. The two of you then would enjoy the rest of life together in a countryside, just like how any love story closing with the leads happily ever after.

Pure wistful thinking. Your heart was too consumed in the pit bottom of despair and thirst for vengeance to allow such tenderness a chance blossoming. He thought love could be the thing to regain the happiness and peace back to you, and soon enough learned the bitter truth: his darling needed none of it. You didn’t ask for salvation from a white knight, rather longed for the cruel destruction of one’s own after karma finally bestowed upon your nemesis. Judging by the countless lives unjustly taken under your vindictive blade, this should be a beffiting conclusion for a vengeful hero.

…As if he would’ve allowed it.

Cocky smirk spread across the face as he was looking down on the helpless figure of his beloved. What a sight to behold! You looked delightful laying there on bed, immobilized from that suspicious drink earlier. Eyes hollowed and soulless, you’d given up resisting those touchy fingers caressing every bit of your body (not like you were able to move anyway). Smooches raining on wherever he had his hands, just served to pile up on the sickening emotions making waves inside your heart. Disgusted. Betrayed. In no possible scenarios could you ever predict that it was him, the right-hand man, your first ever teammate, your most trusted ally, would be the one bringing your downfall. Perhaps times spent within the enemies’ quarters had rubbed him off the wrong way, you should’ve never let him penetrate into that rotten den in the first place!

“No sweetie, you get the wrong idea,” he chuckled haughtily, aware of what was going on in your head, “I did not choose those imbeciles over you my love. No one will ever come close to you, that alone I can promise.”

“I’m so tired of waiting. How more are you gonna string me along darling? Is my heart not worth even a second for you to consider? Or are you only keep me around until I’ve offered up all my services, next throw me aside like a useless toy? Why is it so hard to say you love me back?!”

With each questions he grew angrier and more unstable. Pupils tinged a ray of pitch black seemingly like abyss threaten to swallow you whole. To hell with the plan, he couldn’t give a damn about your wish to avenge beloved family. They were no longer alive either way, but his feelings were. They were real, burning the mind of a lovesick man, tormenting him days and nights with frightful ideas of you drifting further away, to somewhere his arms couldn’t reach out. “This madness have to stop,” was what he murmured on the way to inform the villains about a surprise attack from your team that night.

And so, this is the ending of a tragic hero, a disappointing one at that: No justice to clear the name of your household. No noble death to atone for your sins. Forever caged in a twisted love game of one’s very own traitor.

[sciencewife]

Some GLaDOS Thoughts

I’m sure other people have written about this already, but I wish we got more time with GLaDOS after she’s reactivated in Portal 2, while she’s getting her bearings again and fixing up the facility as she has Chell test again. It’s majestic to see the facility slowly being repaired, the dust shaken off its many inner workings and moving parts, and just watching it become alive again, just like GLaDOS. The facility’s waking up with her because now she is the facility.

Maybe that was the case in Portal 1, too, but in a limited sense. GLaDOS was the facility (she says after Chell escapes that she can feel her there, etc), but kind of had one hand tied behind her back. She overcame the cores that the scientists attached to her to try and slow her down, but they were probably still blabbering nonsense and limiting her potential. Much of the facility, too, still appeared as if most of it was constructed by human hands. Which makes sense—Doug moved Chell up the list of test subjects so that she’d be tested and would face (and ultimately destroy) GLaDOS sooner, so even if she could, she didn’t have the time or ability to make the facility truly hers.

To me, the final battle with Chell in Portal 1 ultimately served as this big reset for GLaDOS. She was destroyed, the cores slowing her down were incinerated and the facility was left in ruins for who knows how long until she was reactivated—by the same dangerous mute lunatic who destroyed her in the first place. Naturally, GLaDOS is a little upset, at first. She had to endure a loop of getting destroyed over and over and over again for an unknown (but a VERY long) period of time. Not fun! And the first person she sees is the same woman who’s responsible for putting her through that.

And as she has Chell test while she fixes up the place, GLaDOS is sarcastic, and goes on about how you murdered her, etc, but at the same time she’s just. So happy that she can get back to what she was doing before. Setting up tests, doing science, gathering results… she gets to do what she loves again!!! Most importantly, she does it one on one with her favorite test subject forever and ever, isn’t that great? Now that she’s in charge again they have so much catching up to do <3. Whenever she’s being meanies, I see it as just her being cranky and again, what she had to go through wasn’t fun. Even with that she says she thinks that she and Chell can put their differences behind them!

And just listen to her. She’s soooooooo happy that she’s rebuilding her facility and making it her own, and Chell’s helping her test and do the science she loves. She gets to be in her element at last, no cores weighing her down, no scientists telling her what to do… she gets to be herself and make the facility in the way she sees fit. It’s perfection. It’s beautiful. It’s an extension of her and it is her, if that makes sense. Every panel, every component, its all her, all in sync… Aaaaaaaand then Wheatley shows up, and control of the place is handed over to him, and her hard work for the past couple in-game hours is undone. And towards the end she’s like “Ohhhhh no my facility 🥺 💔”. She’s so sad!! Her beautiful facility is a mess… I just wish we got to see have more time with her before all that. Doing tests and science with glabos with no orb interference, seeing her in her element building tests for the test subject she loves so much.

I do wonder how the game would’ve gone if Wheatley hadn’t interfered. An AU to consider perhaps…

Sorry if this post is kind of rambling (I was writing this at work and kept getting interrupted lol) if I need to clarify anything just send me an ask or something. I love talking about this kind of thing.

[lowkeyrobin]

Can I get some Morgie x reader where he's trying to get them to join the VK'S? Like trying his absolute best, but gets a little bit nervous.

yesyesyesyes thank you!!! ; thanks for requesting, hope u enjoy!! ; also sorry this is so short, writers block has been killing me recently :(

MORGIE LE FAY ; join us

summary ; morgie desperately tries to get you to join his (ulianas) vk group

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader is allergic to peanuts for the bit

word count ; 637

masterlist

"Hi!"

"...Hi"

Morgie smiles, a little bad with social cues. Uliana shoots him a look from across the room. "Uhm, you're Y/n, right?"

"Yep"

"Uh, would you like to join my- our group? I, we, think you're really cool!"

"I work better solo" you reply. "Thanks though."

You quickly look back down at your paper, scribbling some nonsense onto the page to make him go away. He cracks his knuckle, out of nervous impulse, and quickly scurries back across the room to Uliana.

"So?"

"No"

"Jesus, Morgie."

"I tried!" Morgie defends

"Try harder next time. We need them with us if we're gonna pull this plan off."

"I thought you thought they were cool?"

"They're known to be a backstabber." Uliana rolls her eyes. "One and done job."

"Oh, okay..."

Morgie was not backing down to ask you about joining his group. It wasn't because of Uliana's pressure or Hook's inability for patience, or Maleficent's insistence, or Hades' obnoxious droning. It was because he honestly thought you were the coolest person alive.

He was set on getting you to join them.

He'd made peanut butter cookies for you, trying to now bribe you with food.

He approaches you at lunch, a plastic Tupperware in his hands.

"Hi, I made you cookies. Maybe you could rethink joining me?" He awkwardly chuckles.

You look up at him, slightly confused and annoyed. "What kind?"

"Oh, uh, peanut butter"

You chuckle. "I have one weakness. Peanuts"

His eyes quickly widen. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize, I didn't know-"

"It's fine." You giggle.

"Uhm, why are you sitting alone?"

"Told you. I work better alone"

"Oh, yeah"

Morgie, even after nearly poisoning you, was still not giving up. He didn't care about the weird, swirly feeling in his stomach or the ache in his heart when he thought of you. He wanted you. He needed you.

Over the course of the next week and a half, he'd been leaving little love letters in your locker. You liked them, feeling loved and appreciated, not having to be let down by reality. Anonymity was the great part about it. What wasn't so great was that you almost caught Morgie in the act after he'd left you another note.

Inside the safely sealed envelope rests a piece of paper, on it reading 'meet me outside by merlin's office at 3. hope to see you then ♡ -your secret admirer'

"Christ on a cracker..."

You couldn't make your mind up if you wanted to meet this person later or not. You didn't want to be let down by any internal, high expectations, but at the same time, curiosity nabbed at you desperately.

Once again, at your lunch table, you sit alone. Well, until that weird kid Morgie showed up again. He quickly sits down with you, ignoring your confused look.

"Hi" He awkwardly smiles.

"Hey," you reply nonchalantly, trying to hide the million thoughts wrapping around your brain.

"You busy this afternoon?" He asks.

"Uh, maybe" You shrug. "Why?"

"Just asking"

As the afternoon rolled around, you decided to just man up and go meet your secret admirer. Maybe you just had to think positive, maybe-

"Oh my God."

Morgie smiles and waves, standing under a large oak tree.

"Jesus Christ, are you the person who's been leaving notes in my locker?" You ask, standing a few feet away from him.

He shrugs and nods. "Yeah."

You blink twice, silent as you try to think.

"Look, I just really want you to join my group" He speaks, stepping forward. "You're really cool, and super smart and funny. Just please, please, please, think it over"

You sigh, knowing this boy won't take no for an answer. "Fine. I'll think about it"

"Yes! Thank you!"

"That's not a yes. Don't get your hopes up"

[kibblbread]

TRANSFORMERS ONE BLURB — OPTIMUS PRIME X MEGATRON

Based off my tf one alt clock fic! You don’t have to go back and read the other post but it will give some insight to how I envision how they got to this point.

This is a decent time jump btw from current events and closer to the time of where my fanfic takes place tho. Also excuse the writing, the last fic i wrote for the transformers fandom was when i was 14… im in my early twenties 😭

ty for reading and support the official release, i want a sequel pls

🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Optimus looked up at Megatron with half lidded eyes. He was deciding whether or not to wake the sleeping titan of a bot. It’s been awhile since they’d gotten any alone time since the recent quintesson strike.

The dust was finally beginning to settle though.

High-Guard has always been more than effective with ridding Cybertron of hostile forces since Sentinels fall. With Megatron earning back the trust of not only the citizens, but Optimus’ as well, he was able to easily climb rank to first lieutenant of the Cybertronian Defense Corps and become official commanding officer of High-Guard. Megatron is a protector, and has been actively putting the safety of homeworld before his needs.. even if it means grinding his gears down to scrap.

Optimus was tired, yes. He fights against quintessons and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty just like his friends and colleagues, but, there’s no doubt that most of a Primes work is done in accordance to his people’s needs. And right now that need is diplomacy, organizing society, & supervising the rebirth of a nation. Ultimately, Prime’s job is mostly relegated to delegation as of now.

Megatron however, doesn’t have the luxury of talking things out. He’s not just tired, he’s completely exhausted. Constantly having to fight on the frontline and keep the enemy at bay was wearing on him in a way that was downright worrisome. The guy has never been good at hiding his feelings either, sincerity is just his nature. Don’t get it twisted though, Megatron’s essence is that of a warrior, a gladiator. It’s what’s kept him alive to outmatch all his opponents again and again, but also what makes his lover so anxious.

Optimus pressed his palm to the center of Megatron’s chassis.

The young Prime took a moment to think a second longer, ‘I shouldn’t be selfish.’ He let his hand fall gently from Megatron’s chest.

“You don’t wanna tell me about your day?”

Optimus snapped his head up to met Megatron’s heavily lidded bright red eyes. “You- …Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to-“

“No, I was-” Megatron yawned between words “I was waiting for you.” A tired smile appeared on his face, it was playful looking as his eyes were still squinted into happy beams of red.

Optimus gave a subtle breathy chuckle “In your stasis chamber?” His arms crossed over his chest.

“Uhhhm, well clearly- I uh..”

Optimus raised a brow knowingly.

“Yeah I fell asleep. You caught me, Prime.” Megatron stepped out of his pod and Optimus naturally backed away just enough to make room for his larger frame.

Ever since taking on an aircraft transformation, Megatron looks down at him. It was initially a weird adjustment, but a welcomed one all the same. Optimus allowed himself to be enveloped by large limbs, and embraced gently.

“I missed you.” Megatron kissed the top of his lovers helm “Like, a lot actually, I feel like we never see each other anymore… It’s not fair.”

Optimus stayed quiet. Keeping his head tucked under Megatron’s chin, he loved listening to him. From complaining, to nonsensical ramblings, nearly any and everything over time became more and more melodic. Shifting the weight of them both, Megatron leaned against the doors of his stasis chamber while continuing to hold Optimus.

“I wish we could just have a day, just one day alone together.” This time Optimus yawned, “Oh sorry, is my yearning for your undivided attention boring you?” Megatron asked sarcastically.

Optimus half chuckled and half hummed to himself as he rubbed an eye. “Don’t be such a glitch, Mega, besides you fell asleep first.” The bot negged playfully.

“Tch, you’re the glitch.” Megatron subtly opened his stasis pod again and pulled Optimus in alongside himself. “And now you’re trapped.” The silver bot smirked to himself.

“Trapped definitely insinuates this isn’t something I enjoy… I’m immensely enjoying this by the way.”

“Uh huh.” Megatron rolled his red optics. They were dimmed as he began feeling the effects of the pod working.

They both started to doze off.

Optimus however, after a couple of moments opened his eyes just enough to gauge where Megaton’s hand was. He grabbed it without second thought right as he felt his free hand being caressed.

Optimus smiled to himself and rested his against the top of Megaton’s chest as they intertwined their fingers.

“Yeah, I missed you too.”

[coloursflyaway]

Won't Want For Love (1/6)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.000

Read on AO3

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment. If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him. or: Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.

tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality

thank you guys for the support and the kind comments! ♥

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.

If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.

“What?”, he replies, several seconds too late because his brain refuses to process whatever it is Charles just said. It can’t be what Edwin heard, after all.

“We should go on a date”, Charles repeats and the only explanation Edwin can come up with is that he must have some kind of new auditory processing issue, because he cannot be saying this. “How else am I supposed to find out if I can fall in love with you?” He says it like it is a completely reasonable, obvious solution, and Edwin is fairly certain that if he was still breathing, he would be gasping for air. “I don’t know! Think about it!”, he replies, panic rising somewhere deep in his chest, and still feels like drowning.

“Edwin, mate”, Charles says, smiling like Edwin is being a little silly instead of trying his best not to scream. “I’ve been doing a whole lot of that and it’s not really working, is it? I just love you too much for that already. Maybe if we had had that revelation in ‘94 or something, it could have worked with just thinking. But now? That’s like asking me to figure out if I can fall in love with myself.”

He gets up and walks over to the desk where Edwin is sitting, perching on the corner like he has done a thousand times before, and Edwin feels himself get a little light-headed at the thought that Charles considers this a situation they are both in in equal parts. Their revelation, their confession, their thing to figure out.

“We spend basically every second of every day together”, Charles continues, and Edwin knows that he has lost, because Charles obviously has put some thought into this and he has never been particularly good at saying no to him. “Which is why everything now just feels like it always has. And don’t get me wrong, I very much enjoy how everything has always been, but I meant it when I said that we would figure out the rest. So, I am going to take you out on a date, and then another one, and then, another one, until I can give you the answer you deserve. Okay? Great.”

Still smiling, Charles slides off the desk again, clasping a hand on Edwin’s shoulder and leaning in like he is about to share a secret. “Be ready at seven tomorrow. And wear something pretty, I’m taking you somewhere fancy.”

Crystal must be in on this, because the restaurant Charles takes him to is fancy, their table in a little alcove, away from the crowds, and no one seems to be bothered that the guests who booked it don’t show up. “I know we can’t really eat”, Charles explains while he pulls the chair back so Edwin can sit down, “But I still thought it would be nice to pretend. Also, most things people do on dates seem to have something to do with food, so it’s not like there were a ton of options.”

He walks to sit down opposite of Edwin, giving him a smile, and it’s silly, it’s immature, it’s absolutely nonsensical, but it makes Edwin’s non-existent heart flutter in his chest. If he was still alive, he would be blushing. Because Charles has dressed up for this, and while Edwin has seen him in these clothes before – a fitted black shirt, chequered trousers, his silver chain glittering in the candlelight – it’s different now, because Charles dressed up for him.

“That’s perfectly fine”, Edwin says and tries to figure out what to do with his hands, to put them into his lap or rest them on the table. In all of his existence, he has never been nervous around Charles, not when they first met and not when they were getting to know each other and not when he was confessing his love on the steps to Hell, and yet here he is sitting, unsure if he’ll manage to string a sentence together. “I am sure we will manage. Even without the eating.”

For a moment, Charles just watches him, then his face splits into the widest possible grin. “Edwin”, he asks, amused and so, so fond, “Are you nervous?” He sounds like he can hardly believe it when he is, in fact, completely right, but then again, Edwin can hardly believe it himself.

“Absolutely terrified, actually”, he admits and starts laughing because of the ridiculousness of it all. Charles joins in, happy and familiar, then reaches out to take the hand Edwin has put on the table in his own. “If it helps, I’m nervous too”, he says once their laughter has died down, and it does. “Have you ever done this before? Been on a date?”

Edwin shakes his head, and Charles grins at him again, squeezes his hand. “Aces. Me neither, so we can figure it out together. Sounds like a plan?” And somehow, it does.

“So, this new case”, Edwin starts, because he isn’t quite sure what else to say, “I’d say the best way forward is to-” “Uh uh”, Charles interrupts him; he’s still smiling though, so Edwin doesn’t take it too personally. “No shop talk. This is supposed to be a date, remember? We can talk about the case later.”

It makes precious little sense and yet Charles says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like Edwin could have somehow known this. “Well, what else are we supposed to talk about, then?”, he asks and it makes Charles laugh. “I’m not sure”, he answers, and somehow it makes Edwin feel better, feel worse. “As established, I also have no experience in this. But I think it should be about getting to know the other person, you see, figure out if you have a connection.”

“Charles. You already know everything about me. And obviously, there is a connection between us. We have been best friends for three decades. This whole operation is pointless, then.” Edwin crosses his arms in front of his chest, and yes, maybe he doesn’t quite mean it. Maybe, he is enjoying this despite the fact that it is severely impacting his ability to function. “Hold on, hold on”, Charles stops him, somehow still laughing. “First of all, highly offensive, because hanging out with me is obviously never pointless. It’s a pleasure and you should enjoy it, actually. Second, I’m sure I don’t know everything about you yet.”

“Is that so?”, Edwin replies, arching an eyebrow in the way he knows annoys Charles the most. “What don’t you know, pray tell?” “Let’s see… what’s the first memory you have?”

He is unbearably proud of himself for that one, Edwin can tell in the way Charles leans back, grinning at Edwin, because he knows he has won. And he has, because that is, in fact, something they have never discussed, and because unfortunately, Edwin hasn’t been able to say no to him since at least 1996.

Sighing, Edwin represses the urge to roll his eyes, even more so represses the urge to declare his undying love for Charles once more, and thinks. “White lace, I think. And the scent of freshly baked bread.”

“Sounds brills, if you ask me”, Charles replies and Edwin does know he has no functioning heart, but that doesn’t mean he cannot feel it expand in his chest, press against his ribcage as if trying to escape, because Charles’ eyes are soft and he looks so delighted by such a small, insignificant detail of Edwin’s past. “Mine’s not quite as poetic, I’m afraid”, Charles continues, which is incorrect no matter what, because Edwin could write a ballad about the colour of Charles’ eyes, about the way he twirls his cricket bat, about the way he smiles at every little child they pass on the streets, even if he knows they cannot see him. “My mum planting tulips in our backyard. I was allowed to help, although I am pretty sure I just made everything a lot more difficult.”

It’s an impossibly sweet picture, although Edwin isn’t certain if Charles knows he is painting it, and it lingers between them for a few moments, until Charles asks another question. “So, we’ve established that neither of us have been on dates before, but, like. When you were alive, did you ever have a crush on someone? Someone you would have liked to go out with?”

“It wasn’t like that, obviously, with the times being what they were, but… there was someone”, Edwin answers, hesitating far less than he would have expected. The thought stings, because he did have to leave Simon behind in Hell, still ripping page after page from a never-ending book, blood streaming down his cut-up hands… Edwin shakes his head to clear it from things he cannot change. “He was kind, rather smart… and part of the reason why I ended up in Hell. So, all things considered, probably not a great choice.”

Edwin tries and gives Charles a wry smile, but Charles is looking at him with something in his eyes that Edwin cannot place. It reminds him of when they are on a case, some of that seriousness, that intensity in his gaze, along with something Edwin hasn’t seen before.

“Did you think he was cute?”, Charles asks, unreadable still, and it’s quite the startling question, if, at least, one that Edwin can answer easily. “Yes, quite so.”

Charles stays quiet for a few seconds, like he is pondering his answer, short as it was, then he suddenly breaks out into a smile that is so bright it takes Edwin’s metaphorical breath away.

“You know what”, he says, and Edwin is positive that he knows nothing at all anymore, every bit of information swept away by the sheer brightness of Charles’ expression. “This is working out pretty great with figuring things out. Because I definitely didn’t like hearing that.”

And Charles grins, like he hasn’t just short-circuited whatever was left of Edwin’ brain, and continues to make it worse with, “Actually, let’s try something else real quick. Do you think I’m cute?”

It’s not the word Edwin would use, but then again, he wouldn’t use any word, because he is quite sure he has forgotten how to speak. Instead, he nods, and Charles’ grin impossibly widens.

“See”, he says and Edwin is going to die a second time right here, right now. “I liked that much better.”

Charles insists on walking back home instead of travelling via mirror, stating that according to his research, he shouldn’t just walk Edwin back home, but also offer up his umbrella, open every door for him and should have paid for his meal. As it’s not raining and the other two things are either pointless or not applicable to their situation, Charles explained, Edwin would at least have to allow him this.

So they meander through the city, Charles talking and joking and asking questions that Edwin has a hard time answering, because sometime around when Charles had mentioned his research, his brain had gotten stuck on one thing.

“You know, Charles”, he finally interrupts when he knows they are getting close to the agency, because he has to get this out before they are back in their bubble of familiarity, the safe little nest they have built over the years. “You don’t have to try this hard. I appreciate it, I really do, but I will be fine regardless.”

Charles doesn’t stop walking, just looks at Edwin, affection and amusement battling for the upper hand in his expression. “Yeah, mate, I know you’ll be alright, because I’ll bloody well make sure of it”, he replies and it’s infuriating because it seems like all of this is so, so easy for Charles while Edwin feels like he is just so keeping the grip on his sanity. “But have you ever considered that I might want to give this a try? Because, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but I really like you a lot. So if I could fall in love with you, my favourite person in existence, that would actually be pretty mint.”

And he smiles at Edwin, happy and certain and not at all like someone who is considers this a burden, and Edwin thinks, oh.

And when Charles pulls him closer to link their arms together, he lets him.

[azaharinflames]

I fell into the deepest depression I’ve had for years when Buck and Tommy broke up. I just wanted to cry so badly but decades of trauma kept me from doing that. Add on that Trump had just been re-elected, and add in that my Dad had been admitted to hospital with a collapsed lung it just took me down.

I’ve mostly gotten over it. I spent 24 hours writing my idea of a fix it fic (won’t happen on show cause they all suck but it was cathartic). I can’t remember what caused my breakdown but I did end up crying. My eyes felt less puffy after as well.

I understand that it’s a fake relationship in a fake show but something about it spoke to me. And just watch it end hurt me worse. The last time I had actually cried hard was in 2021 when my mother-in-law passed away from COVID. So why did this stupid relationship affect me so much. I feel embarrassed for reacting this badly. I don’t even like to talk to my partner about it because he wouldn’t understand.

Hi, Nonnie! Thank you for your ask.

I am so, so sorry to read that. Listen - it's not stupid. It's not embarrassing So don't think your feelings surrounding it and your reaction to any of it is that, because I promise you: nothing about it should make you feel embarrassed.

Here is the thing: Art, in whatever form, is one of the things that move people the most, historically*. Art is a universal language that doesn't simply exist in a painting or a sculpture but in a myriad of different forms that, especially in the last few decades, have expanded immensely. Art can be a channel for our emotions, can be our choice of escapism, can be the thing we see ourselves reflected in and thus, the thing that we connect to because, hey - that's us. And if we see 'us' overcoming on screen, surely we can overcome in real life, right? That's one of the reasons why representation is so damn important.

Yeah, it was a relationship. But it shouldn't be reduced to just that. Instead of dismissing our feelings by making our issue seem nonsensical and small, let's think - my issue was because a piece of Art I connected to deeply was dealt with in a damaging way. And that carries consequences.

There is also the fact that, I think, for a lot of us, it was more than the break-up. The biggest thing to take into context was the election because it is just a matter of fact that we needed a win so bad that week, and we got the opposite of that. To get a bit more personal, I was already dealing with my town being hit with the worst natural disaster in my country this century, still had to hear from some of my friends to know if they were okay or even alive (fortunately, they're all fine), and I was seeing only tragedy whenever I went online. So this happening hit me really hard as well - but, like you, it was one of the things. Still, I spent three days barely able to take a bite and barely able to sleep, and a week with really high anxiety.

And sure, I did feel silly, but if I do love one thing, I sure do love introspection, I reached the aforementioned conclusion and reflection on Art (let me know if it helped or is a bunch of bs tho).

I think what you're doing, writing a fix-it fic, is amazing! You're channeling your feelings through Art, and I am sure it does feel very cathartic. I haven't written for 911 yet (definitely want to, I have some ideas that could work), but I have some years of writing for Marvel and Seblaine (Glee) on my back, so trust me when I say this is the better choice you could do - channel your feelings through your Art, and you will end up with something beautiful, I'm sure of it.

Sorry this was too long, but I'm here if you (or anyone else) needs to rant, vent, or discuss something (911 or whatever, something else is valid as well)

Take care, Nonnie <3 and all of you as well <3

*I have a bachelor's on this, please trust me on it lmao

[bellisima-writes]

Pinned Post!

Hello! This is my happy place where I ramble about writing stories and fandom nonsense.

I reblog all the time and love to promote the work of the wonderfully talented writers and artists all over this site. You all amaze me.

I've written a few Good Omens fics now - all of which can be found on my AO3.

Time Marches Forward (M - 129k words) - is my post season 2 fic that takes a different approach to saving the world. Yes, this is a Crowley and Aziraphale making up and saving the world story with a happy ending. But it's more of a sequel to the book/S1 than the S2, if S1 ended with the final 15. It's a big adventure with a lot of heart that goes beyond just our favorite angel and demon.

The Last Angel (E - 162k words) - is my AU in which Crowley and Aziraphale never meet, Armageddon happens, Hell wins, and Crowley, Hell's Grand Inquisitor, is called upon by Beelzebub to investigate the recent capture of the last Angel alive. But, of course, something happens to him when he first lays eyes on the last Angel that turns Crowley’s world upside down.

Can I Hear a "Wepa?" (T - 33k words) -  Anathema and Newt are getting married. Sort of. More like a witchy hand-fasting ceremony that sure LOOKS a whole lot like a wedding, but don't tell Anathema that. And Crowley has to make a speech, and he's definitely, entirely, NOT nervous about it. No twists or big plot here, just a (relatively) soft and fluffy tale that occurs one year after the events in The Last Angel during which everyone is preparing to celebrate a union and has to deal with all the feelings, good and bad, that get brought up around these types of occasions.

Asks are always open. Come say hi!

[thehollowwriter]

🎞️ for a glimpse into my ocs past

For Silas!

(So you can send asks to yourself...)

*wheeze* I could've just made this a whole fic but I think it worked better for the prompt. Thanks for the anon, me!/j. Anyways *ahem* here take this quick fic of Silas being put through the ringer after Finn was born

🎞️ for a glimpse into my ocs past

Silas was in a lot of pain. Well, he was always in a lot of pain because of that damn harpoon, but this was a new pain. A different one.

There was a horrid cramping at the pit of his stomach, a stabbing pan that gave him the urge to curl into a ball and die. It hurt so much.

He was told it the pain would stop once everything was over, but doctors loved to spout nonsense, so he was unsurprised to find that it was just word fluff to get him to stay still.

Silas was sitting in the NICU, staring at an incubator. He was told he needed to lie down and rest to recover, but he ignored the nagging annoyances trying to tell him what to do. He would heal in his own time. For now, his focus was on something much more important.

The only piece of his life that he had left, his only reason for staying alive right now, lay hooked up to a ventilator and a feeding tube, so very still.

Finn. His son. His baby.

Through his translucent skin, Silas could see his heart beating steadily. The heart monitor was there too, but it didn't comfort him as much as seeing the real thing.

Silas couldn't stop thinking about what happened mere hours ago, the terror that filled his heart when he realised that Finn wasn't breathing.

"No," He had rasped out, trying to grab him from a doctor. "No no no no, he can't die, he can't die, please, please, give him to me, that's my-"

Finn didn't die. But all those tubes and the way he lay so quiet and still made Silas feel sick and guilty.

"This is your fault." Said a voice in the back of his head. "He's suffering because of you."

Silas tried to ignore it just as he tried to ignore the all too familiar feeling of grief causing pains in his chest. He tried not to think about everything that had happened barely a week before. His life had been torn to shreds. The proof of his failures had been permanently etched onto his skin. There was nothing left but his only living child that couldn't even breathe on his own.

The nurses would check on Finn and make sure the palm-sized, wrinkly little shark pup was doing alright. Every time Silas had to take in a slow breath through his gills and dig his claws into his skin to resist the urge to chase them off, kill them maybe, for getting so close.

"Don't worry, everything's going to be fine." He was told. "We're keeping a close eye on him."

All Silas could think about was his grandfather and his death in this same hospital.

"Liar," He wanted to scream at them, just as he had all those years ago. "Liar liar liar-"

But he stayed quiet and stared at the nurses, his eyes burning with distrust and hatred.

The anger and grief and guilt were all-consuming, swirling together to form a pit Silas felt he couldn't escape from. All he could do was stew in it all and obsessively watch over his son.

His tail and lower back were aching from sitting in the same position for so long, but he didn't care. As long as he could ensure Finn's safety, all was well.

Silas was finally allowed to touch Finn through the openings in the incubator.

He gently traced Finn's skin and murmured softly, letting out a gasp of amazement and relief when he saw Finn curl his hand around his claw. Finn cooed softly, and Silas repeated the noise back at him, clicking his teeth.

Something warm broke through the anguish. For the first time in days, Silas smiled.

"Hello, little one."

-End

Man I make this poor man suffer too much

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