#i really need to come up with a name for this au...

[mononijikayu]

is it new years yet? — nanami kento.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now." "Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different." “My darling, behave.” “No <3” ".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, secret coworker romance, co-workers to lovers, romance, fluff, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, creampie, p to v sex, stairwell sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my darling, babe, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, actor! nanami kento, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 6k words.

NOTE: hello everyone, this is the first fic of 2025!!! this was specifically written because of a conversation between me and @midnight-138 on the afternoon of december 31st 2024. i started progress while on a bus on the way to my grandma's house and for a bit on the 1st. i still wanted to write more for it, but i had to stop because i caught a cold. i still have a cold. and i need a massage cause i feel my body hurt real bad, cause its working hard to save my life from this cold TT TT

but that being said, i shouldn't complain too much. good things have been happening to me despite my problems. i hope that good things continue to come!!! anyway, enough yapping, i hope you enjoy this little fic. happy 2025!!! may good things, good health and happiness come your way always this year!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS ALWAYS LIKE THIS WHEN YOU AND KENTO GET TOGETHER. But it was to be expected, since you graced the screens since you were a child. Nanami Kento was like that too. Of course, it wasn’t something of a brag at all. It was just your normal.

You were lucky, you were favored like that. Kento was favored just like that. Both of you were so beloved. And especially so, in a way that they end up hoping that you both were together. 

Ever since you worked with him on Jujutsu Kaisen all those years ago, it was just too strong — the chemistry between the two of you. It pulls people in for more. They wanted a story, they wanted something that could ease their days from the mundane boredom that it was to the fun, exhilarating excitement that comes with the tea in both of your private lives.

You didn’t mind, your company didn’t mind either. Neither did Kento or his side of the aisle. It helped that you were both good friends. You had met even before landing your roles on Jujutsu Kaisen, after all. So, the ‘will they, won’t they’ between the two of you really did help your careers.

But of course, just like in Gege–sensei’s scripts, some parts are sentences with too many blank pages. And the wholeness of your relationship with Nanami Kento truly only belonged to you and him. And you were not willing to expose it to the world. Not just yet.

Yet — this does not stop them from trying to do something about that.

The studio buzzed with activity as you adjusted the earpiece in your ear, stealing a quick glance at the veteran actor, singer, producer, writer and entertainment personality that is Nanami Kento.

He stood near the stage, his posture relaxed yet impossibly refined. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his tie a subtle but elegant shade of deep blue,everything about him just exuded a quiet confidence that made it hard for anyone to look away. 

You, however, knew better than to let your gaze linger too long. You knew too well that those are reserved for just him and you to interpret and to see. No one else should. You were as possessive about your private moments as he was. But you would never say that outloud and neither will he.

“Can you believe these two again?” a stagehand whispered slowly, behind you. It was still, of course, loud enough for you to hear. “It’s like they were made for this. If they don’t end up together after tonight, I’ll lose faith in love. Really!”

You bit back a laugh, focusing on your notes. No one knew the truth, after all. That you and Kento were already together had been for a while now. Not even your publicists or managers — hell, not even your entertainment companies, knew that this was for genuine actuality, a real thing now. But you and him liked it that way.

You had let your fans go wild with their theories over the years of course. Every post, every comment, every little interaction, every collaboration, every press tour — almost everything seemed to spark a new wave of speculation and fan shipping. 

For years now, the internet was rife with hashtags like #OurSecretLovers and #MrAndMrsNanami with fans pouring over every detail like it's an investigatory report they were doing, a documentary study. You had to admit, it was amusing at times, watching people try to connect dots they couldn’t see. 

Nanami Kento had a reputation for being rather serious, because he gets roles in that league often. But he was a silly little man, well your silly little man. And he often had the knack for finding the most random, yet oddly endearing, posts about the two of you on Twitter. During your five-minute breaks between shoots, when you were in separate rooms or on different sets, his messages would pop up on your phone, accompanied by a link and a deadpan caption.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now."

"Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different."

“My darling, behave.”

“No <3”

".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

You’d giggle to yourself, your shoulders shaking as you tried not to draw attention. It didn’t matter how serious the production you were working on either. He had a way of making you laugh even from miles away. And that relaxes you a lot.

When it was your turn, you’d send him TikToks. Fancam edits of the two of you together had exploded in popularity as of late, especially since you both played a married couple who were spies deceiving each other recently. People thought he looked so good, especially when he had his shirt off. You loved teasing him about it. After all, he was really pretty hot in those scenes. And if you were being honest, they did in fact rile you up.

"Look at us, babe." you texted once, attaching a video with dramatic lighting, a love song playing over clips of you two stolen from interviews and behind-the-scenes footage. "We’re icons."

His reply came almost immediately: "Icons, sure. But I’m just a guy who got lucky enough to be yours, you know?"

Those words made your heart swell every time. He’d always been effortlessly humble, never letting fame or admiration inflate his ego, even as his star rose. After all, you were the senpai here—the darling of the Japanese screen since childhood. 

You’d grown up in the industry, your name synonymous with household stardom. He, on the other hand, had been a late bloomer, starting as a teenager and building his career with quiet determination.

He never let the difference in your status get in the way, though. If anything, it only made him more in awe of you. He’d often remind you how much he admired your grace, how you’d navigated the pressures of fame with a poise that still left him speechless.

“You’ve been dazzling audiences since you were a kid.” he’d say, his voice warm with pride. “I’m just lucky to share the screen with you now and your life.”

And you’d roll your eyes playfully, nudging him with a smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Kento. You’re a fan favorite for a reason.”

“Maybe.” he replied with a soft smirk. “But you’re my favorite. And that’s what matters.”

No matter how busy your schedules got, those small exchanges, be it a funny link or a sentimental text, every bit of this kept you connected. It reminded you both that beneath the glitz and glamour, what truly mattered was the quiet, enduring love you shared.

You were out of your bubble soon enough when Kento suddenly caught your eye from across the room, offering a small, reassuring smile and then a small gentle nod. You felt your cheeks turn red but lowered your head immediately before anyone was to notice. He was too good at making you feel like this. And certainly so, he was hiding his smirk under his cue cards.

“Alright, places, everyone!” the director called.

You finally stood up from your chair, taking a deep breath and calmed down. You gave yourself one more look in the mirror, trying to make sure that your cheeks were natural now. When you felt like it was, you smiled at your manager who handed you the mic and swiftly thanked them. You went to your position. Kento soon approached, his footsteps purposeful but unhurried. 

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” you replied, flashing him a smile.

You were grateful for the reassurance. Even if you were already such a big name, you still did get nervous. And even more so, with such a big show like this — the New Year Countdown, of course you could feel yourself slipping.

The two of you took your positions on stage as the lights dimmed and the opening music swelled. His fingers brushed against yours briefly as he fixed himself up, your pinkies touching. Even briefly, you could feel the warmth. He did that on purpose. You could see it in his caramel eyes. 

You let a brief smile echo on your lips. You gathered yourself as the lift came up slowly. When you both were in the sight of the gathered audiences and the cameras started to broadcast it all live, you both slipped effortlessly into your roles. After all, you both were professionals.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to this year’s New Year’s Eve Countdown!” you began, your voice bright and enthusiastic.

“Thank you for joining us as we bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new.” Kento added, his tone smooth and polished.

Your banter flowed naturally, as always. That well beloved chemistry between you is still ever so undeniable. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him; he was your partner in every sense of the word. And that made your job tonight a little bit easier.

But of course, the real challenge was hiding the little moments that threatened to give you away that bit you kept so dear to you. You just can't help it when it comes to him. He has such a powerful pull on you and he knows it.

There were those little lingering glances, watching and feeling the way his fingers brushed yours when you handed him a card, the subtle softness in his smile when he looked at you. After all, this is the longest you could be together in your very busy schedules this year.

Still, you kept yourself in that cage. And so did he, despite his lack of patience when it comes to you and everything about you. As the night progressed, the energy in the studio grew electric.

Various music performances lit up the stage, and interviews with special guests kept the crowd engaged. Throughout it all, you and Kento remained the perfect duo—professional, poised, and completely in sync.

After nearly a few hours of composure, it came almost all too suddenly. In just a few moments, the final countdown approached, and the excitement was palpable. The two of you stood at the center of the stage, along with the other participants for this year’s event. In front of you, the crowd behind you cheering wildly, waiting excitedly for the new year.

“Here we go!” you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

Kento leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re doing great, darling..”

Your heart fluttered, but you kept your composure. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, babe.”

The countdown soon began.

You took a breath, looking at the screen.

You held your cue cards tightly to you.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

The lights soon dimmed, and the giant screen behind you displayed the numbers as they ticked down. The crowd’s voices grew louder with each second. The emotions coming through you were indescribable. Another year had gone by. But he was still by your side, like this. And all you could pray for as the time passed into a new age — that you would always be together.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Confetti soon rained down, and the studio erupted in cheers. You turned toward Kento, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you disappeared. The look in his caramel eyes was unmistakable—warm, tender, and filled with a quiet pride that made your chest tighten.

But just as quickly, the moment passed, and you both turned back to the crowd, waving and smiling as the cameras captured every angle. People of course started to pay less attention to you both and the stage and more onto the fireworks now blurring the sky with its bright hues. You and Kento made a steady exit off the stage. 

“Another successful project, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence as you leaned against the wall.

Kento smirked faintly, unbuttoning the top of his shirt to loosen his tie. “They’ll be talking about this for weeks, you know?”

“And shipping us even harder, hm.” you added with a laugh.

“They’ll never know, though.” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You stepped closer, your hand finding his. His fingers intertwined with yours, the simple gesture grounding you in a way nothing else could. “They don’t need to, babe.” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “This is ours.”

Kento’s lips curved into the faintest smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Happy New Year, my darling.”

“Happy New Year.” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You had thought it would end there, sweet and innocent. You had thought you both were safe for one more year. But when you two are together after a long time…..it was a whole new animal. And nothing can stop such a wave in high tide from occupying something whole. 

The next tithing you know is that the internet exploded the moment the photos dropped. Headlines blared across every platform, hashtags like #FINALLYOMG and #NewYearNewScandal trending within minutes after they were taken.

The pictures were pretty damning. They were blurry but unmistakably you, disheveled and wrapped in Nanami’s coat, your hair a mess. And him? A rare sight indeed.

It was none other than Nanami Kento, usually the epitome of composure, looking uncharacteristically undone. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the telltale bruises blooming on his neck left little to the imagination.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the coffee table as you buried your face in your hands. Beside you, Kento sat unbothered, calmly sipping his tea like the world wasn’t on fire—or at least your career’s PR team.

“I told you we should’ve been more careful, babe.” you muttered, your voice muffled by your palms.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quivering into a teasing smile. “You were the one who couldn’t wait with it, y'know?” he replied smoothly, setting his cup down with an elegant clink.

His tone was infuriatingly calm, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “Who was it again, begging me to fill you up? By round two, you were going—‘Kento, I need you. Right here. Right now.’ and I was happy to heed the request like always.”

Your scarlet blush was immediate, your head snapping up to glare at him. “Kento!” you hissed, glancing around the living room as if someone could overhear, even though it was just the two of you. “Not helping!”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with the air of a man thoroughly enjoying himself. “I’m just stating the facts about, I'm the same.” he said with a shrug, his smirk widening as you shot him another flustered look. "That's not a bad thing."

Your phone buzzed again on the table, your manager’s name flashing on the screen. You sighed, picking it up only to immediately huff and toss it back down. “This is really…” you trailed off, searching for the right word but settling on a frustrated groan instead.

“Chaotic? Consequential? Hilarious?” Kento offered, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You shot him a glare that was far more affectionate than threatening. “Horrible. That’s the word. This is horrible.”

He chuckled, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on your knee. “Darling, it’s not the end of the world. Scandal or not, we’ll deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say.” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Your team probably thinks this is great publicity for your brooding, mysterious heartthrob image. Meanwhile, I’m the one getting texts about how unprofessional it looks for ‘Japan’s sweetheart’ to be caught sneaking around with hickeys and wearing her boyfriend’s coat.”

“Unprofessional?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “It’s not like we committed a crime. We’re adults in a committed relationship. And in any case my darling....….” he added, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “You look adorable in my coat.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me. Very much." he quipped, leaning over to steal a quick kiss from your lips.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest, instead letting your head fall onto his shoulder with a sigh. “Next time, though….really.....” you muttered. “We’re finding a stairwell without photographer cameras.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Noted.”

As you leaned against your lover, the memory hit you both like a freight train, vivid and unrelenting. It had started innocently enough—or as innocently as it could between the two of you. The countdown show had gone off without a hitch, and the studio was still buzzing with post-show chaos. 

You both talked for a bit, had a cute moment and then went back to your professional mode when everyone started to surround you both again. It was like a switch, and it was easy. No one suspected a thing.

You went ahead into the dressing room, you talked with everyone. You’d been polite and professional, thanking the crew and chatting with some of the guests. But the moment Nanami Kento had caught your eye as you left the green room, something in his caramel gaze had made your pulse quicken.

You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Between his packed schedule and yours, the countdown project had been the only excuse to be in the same room together. The public facade you maintained only added to the frustration. Every fleeting touch, every shared look—it all built up, an unbearable tension neither of you could ignore.

So, when he’d quietly grabbed your hand and guided you down a quiet, rarely-used stairwell in the building when no one was looking, you hadn’t protested. You were excited, happy even. This was the chance to feel him again this close to you. 

And you were glad for that opportunity. You could feel his touch be so genuine and warm despite the heavy chill in the air, and the firm grip of his fingers around yours sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Darling, I missed you, really.” he murmured as soon as you were alone.

His voice low and rough, filled with a longing that made your knees weak. His hands cupped your face with a reverence that always left you breathless, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was searing, his lips melding with yours as though it had been an eternity since your last stolen moment together.

The cold winter air bit at your exposed skin, but his touch set you alight. His coat had slipped from his shoulders in a quiet, unspoken gesture, draped over yours as his lips moved to your neck. The kisses were hot, open-mouthed, and deliberate, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin before his teeth grazed your pulse.

“Kento, babe….” you gasped, your voice trembling from a mix of the frigid air and the heat of his attention. Your fingers clutched the lapels of his suit, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensations.

“Shh, just enjoy it......” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. 

His hands slid down your sides, firm but gentle as they gripped your thighs. Without hesitation, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against the wall. The rough texture scraped against your coat, but you barely noticed, too focused on the way his body pressed into yours.

His strength always caught you off guard, even after all this time together. Your eager legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open as he stepped between them, his body fitting against yours like a missing piece.

“Babe!” you breathed again, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

He kissed you like a man starved, his lips leaving your neck to reclaim your mouth. The intensity of it stole the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to him. He was hungry, perhaps even more than you were. But you had expected that. He has a habit of yearning to touch you a lot.

“I hate not being able to touch you, with all the schedules we fucking had.” he muttered against your skin, the words tinged with frustration and longing. “Hated every fucking minute of it……”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you tugged him closer. “Then don’t stop, babe.” you whispered, the plea soft but desperate. “Cause….I need you badly too. I need you so bad in me—”

He growled softly, the sound rumbling against your throat as his touch shifted. One hand remained steady on your thigh, holding you firmly in place, while the other slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers were deliberate, pushing aside the delicate lace of your panties with practiced ease.

When his fingers slipped through your slick folds, a gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall. He groaned softly, the sound low and satisfied as he gathered your arousal, his touch teasing and unhurried.

“You’re already so ready for me, aren’t you, my darling?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers moved with precision, finding the spot that made you arch into him.

The cold air around you was a stark contrast to the heat building between you, the quiet of the stairwell broken only by your uneven breaths and his whispered praises. It was reckless, indulgent, and utterly intoxicating—just like him.

“Kento, babe….oh!” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers continued their unrelenting rhythm. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as waves of pleasure began to build within you.

“Shh, darling.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear before trailing back to your neck. His voice was low and soothing, laced with a quiet intensity that only made your pulse race faster. “You’ll have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape as he added a second finger. The stretch was delicious, his movements slow and deliberate, coaxing you higher with every stroke. His thumb brushed over your sensitive bud, and your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “That’s my good little lover, hm? My only beloved darling.” he murmured, his praise sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. “So perfect for me.”

Your fingers slid up into his messy blond hair, tugging gently as your body arched against him. The rough texture of the wall behind you was a sharp contrast to the soft warmth of his touch, grounding you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Kento, please, b–babe….oh!” you breathed, the words barely audible as your head tilted back, exposing more of your neck to his eager lips. “M–more…..more!”

He hummed in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. “So impatient, aren’t you? Greedy too.” he teased, though his fingers quickened their pace, curling just right to hit the spot that made your breath hitch. “I missed seeing you like this, so needy for me.”

The heat pooling in your core intensified, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “I’m—” you began, but the words dissolved into a strangled gasp as he pressed his thumb harder against your sensitive nub.

“That’s it, pretty for me, so fucking pretty." He says, coaxing you like a pied piper. His voice was low and intoxicating. Everything about it just burns you as much as his touch did. "I’ve got you. Always.”

With one final stroke, the beautiful echo, that blossoming coil inside you just snapped, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body tensed, your thighs tightening around his waist as you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the cry that escaped your lips.

He held you through it, his fingers slowing their movements as your body shook with aftershocks. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his lips pressing soothing kisses against your temple.

When you finally relaxed, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were soft, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and satisfaction that made your chest tighten.

“Better?” he asked, his tone light but tinged with affection.

You nodded, still too dazed to form words. He chuckled, adjusting his hold on you as he gently set you back on your feet. Your legs wobbled like jello against him, and he immediately steadied you, his hands firm but gentle on your waist.

“Careful, darling.” he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, babe.” you managed, your voice breathless but steady. “More than fine.”

His lips quivered into a soft smile, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good.”

As the reality of your surroundings sank back in, you couldn’t help but glance around, the abandoned stairwell suddenly feeling far less private. “We should… probably get back, babe.” you said, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It’s getting pretty late.”

He followed your gaze, his expression calm and unbothered. “Let them wonder where we went.” he said simply, shrugging off the concern as he adjusted his coat around your shoulders. "It's none of their business."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the mischievous glint in his eyes stopped you cold. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “After all… I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he was guiding you gently back against the wall. His lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, igniting the fire he’d only begun to stoke. His hands trailed down your sides, their warmth chasing away the chill of the stairwell as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“Kento, babe.” you murmured, a weak attempt to regain your composure, but he silenced you with a kiss that left no room for argument. 

“I missed you, a damn whole lot.” he said, his voice low and filled with longing as his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly once more. "Like I always do."

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your heart pounding as the desire you’d both tried to suppress flared back to life. He pressed against you, the hardness of his arousal undeniable even through the fabric of his pants. The teasing grind of his hips against yours drew a gasp from your lips, and he smirked, his composure slipping just enough to show his need.

"Really....." Kento effortlessly whispered to you, his voice vibrating onto you like a wave crashing onto you at sea. "We shouldn't schedule much this New Year, hm? So we can be together."

"Hm.....Kento." You echo back to him, intoxicated by his touch. "'ake time....for me, okay? I'll.....I'll do the same."

“That's the plan already, you know?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he shifted, his hands tugging at the barriers between you. “Let me take care of you, like I always do.”

Soon after that, you could feel the wet, thick head of his member pressed against your entrance, the heat and pressure stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped as he began to push in slowly, his movements deliberate, almost reverent.

It was too good, too damn easy to fall into a high to. You could feel the stretch inside of you, it made you so full. Everything about it was intoxicating, your body yielding to him as he filled you inch by inch, your walls clinging to every part of him like he was made to fit. 

It was like he was trying to make a home inside of it. Inside of you. And it just made you feel so good. A deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he buried himself deeper.

“Darling.” he muttered, his voice strained and low. “You feel so perfect.”

You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support as your body adjusted to the delicious fullness. The sensation was overwhelming, the slight ache quickly giving way to a heat that spread through your entire body.

“Kento.” you breathed, the sound a mix of plea and surrender.

His large hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pulled back slightly before thrusting forward again, the motion slow but unyielding. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and the friction only made you crave more.

“God, this is so…..you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice rough and filled with need. “You’re so tight. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go slow like this with you.”

“Don’t, babe.” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Don’t hold back.”

His carmel eyes darkened almost instantly at your words, a flicker of something primal overtaking his usual control. With a growl, he began to move in earnest, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The sound of your bodies meeting echoed in the stairwell, a symphony of shared desire that neither of you could hold back.

The rough texture of the wall behind you only heightened the sensation, grounding you as he took you apart piece by piece. You could feel your back burn against the concrete wall as you throw your head back against it. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his body claimed yours.

“Darling, my pretty baby darling.” he murmured against your lips, his voice ragged and desperate. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

“Yes, babe. Yours….O–oh…only! Only yours!” you managed to gasp, your head tilting back as he kissed along your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. 

The coil in your core once more tightens with every spark you feel as he pushes deeper over and over in a fast pace. Everything about the pleasure you feel keeps building to an almost unbearable peak. It just felt too good. He felt too good.

His pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh pants as his control began to slip. One hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your sensitive nub and rubbing it in quick, precise circles.

You cried out, your body arching into him as the tension finally snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your walls clenching tightly around him as your release tore through you.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m close!” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he shuddered against you, his body going taut as he spilled himself inside you.

For a moment, the only sound was your shared, labored breathing, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a cocoon. His forehead rested against yours, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your thighs and waist, grounding you both.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern despite the lingering haze of pleasure in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before gently setting you back on your feet. His hands remained steady on your waist, holding you as your legs wobbled beneath you. You leaned into him, your breath uneven, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just transpired.

But that wasn’t the end of it, of course. 

The hunger in his eyes hadn’t faded, and neither had yours. The raw desire that simmered between you was far from sated, and you both knew it. Kento’s hands lingered, his thumbs brushing soft, teasing circles against your hips as he studied your flushed face. 

“I just think that I…..” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “I still want more.”

You barely had time to process his words before your lover’s lips were on yours again, roughly consuming you in a kiss that was as demanding as it was all encompassing. Your hands quickly found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. Your body instinctively responds to the magnetic pull of his, over and over.

“We shouldn’t…” you whispered between kisses, though your voice lacked conviction. “It’s going to make people suspicious.”

“Probably not.” he agreed, his smirk returning as his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, trailing up your thighs. “But repercussions are damned when we’re hungry. I can’t stop. I know you won’t too..”

The wall pressed against your back once more as he claimed you all over again, the cool stairwell air doing nothing to cool the fire that raged between you. It was reckless, but neither of you cared. Not here, not now. Hunger demanded to be fed, and with Nanami Kento, you were always insatiable.

After a while, you were both removed from the plane of normalcy and you were both panting with joyous weariness. He presses a kiss against your jaw as you keep a steady bite on his neck. He grumbles against you as he gathers himself from seeing stars. You follow him soon after. You released his neck and started kissing his lips once more. 

When you both found yourself satisfied, you both started to make yourselves as presentable as possible. Well, at least what remains presentable and salvageable for both of you. Kento ripped too much of your outfit as much as you did. Still, you both did not care. 

“We should get you cleaned up.” he murmured, his tone tender as he placed his coat on your shoulders and adjusted it tenderly on you, to keep you warm. “I’ll call my car and then we’ll just hop in there. We’ll go to my hotel, okay?”

You nodded again, your cheeks flushing as the reality of your surroundings began to sink in. But as he laced his fingers with yours and led you back toward the main building, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of contentment.

Of course, things too did not go the way you both wanted once again. You didn’t know that there were many SNS photographers  and gossip journalists waiting to catch some other celebrity in that area where Kento’s car was going to be. And that’s just how you were caught, not thinking about the logistics of it all. 

But how could you? It was New Years. 

You just got mindlessly blown with really, really, really good sex.

And you were together once again with your lover.

How could you think about anything else after all that? 

Now, back in the present, the two of you sat in the quiet of your shared apartment. Nanami Kento’s calm demeanor was a stark contrast to your frazzled nerves. You sighed, looking up to your lover who presses a kiss on your forehead.

“You know this is going to be everywhere, babe.” you said, gesturing toward your phone.

He set his tea down and leaned back, regarding you with a look of quiet amusement. “Let them talk, darling. It was bound to happen eventually.”

You groaned. “Eventually I didn't need to include hickeys and a ruined coat. And oh god….. was I leaking your cum?” 

You took your phone once again to inspect, but your lover took your phone with his free hand and put it away. You looked at him, almost sulky as one would look as a child. He laughs. He presses another kiss on your hair. Kento couldn’t help but smirk. Both acts had made your heart skip a beat. 

“You look good in my coat though. I could hardly care if my cum was dripping out, darling.” he said simply. “I’m pretty sure I look just as ridiculous. You mauled my neck so happily after that first round.”

“You  do look like you’ve been ravaged.” you shot back, though your cheeks burned at the memory. “I mean, it made sense at the time….I was hungry.”

“Hm, I don’t blame you.”

You sighed. “We’ll contact our PR and everyone later, okay?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm.”  he said softly, his voice filled with the steady reassurance you’d always loved about him. “We’ll be fine, okay? I don’t care as long as I am with you.”

You sighed, leaning into his warm touch. “I guess the secret’s out, huh?”

He nodded, his gaze warm. “I don’t mind. As long as we're happy together, I say let them say whatever they want.”

You blinked at him. “You think so?”

“Hm.” He smiles at you. “Because no one will truly know who you are to me. That’s only mine. They’ll have a headline, but I’ll have the whole spreadsheet.”

You feel like your heart is melting with his tenderness. “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too.” He kisses your lips, smiling wider at you.

And just like that, the storm outside felt a little less overwhelming.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ crush

| hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader au

summary: hamzah has a crush that is extremely obvious to everyone except you ... somehow?! (both written & smau!!!)

a/n: happy new years!!!!!!

— march 2024

hamzah is hungry beyond belief.

martin's already assured him both over facetime and text that he's on his way with their full course meal of chinese takeout— currently sat in the basket of martin's rented bike, jostling up and down with every bump of the toronto pavement without a doubt. yet his stomach is still throwing a tantrum, depraved of any nutrients while his brain repeats in a neanderthal-like manner "food. coming. soon." in hopes of reducing the pressure within his poor stomach.

he opens instagram, needing some sort of an escape, because naturally a little doom-scrolling will ease his (dramatic but still very real) pain. somehow, among the ridiculous animal reels and comedic twitch clips on his explore feed, he stumbles upon a reel from you. a girl with a different quality and charm to your face and character than anything he's seen in other content creators.

not only does your bubbly yet elegant voice keep him watching but the subject matter is rather fitting— you're cooking a homemade chicken pot pie for the first time. in the video you talk about how often your mother would prepare it growing up and now it's become a popular craving for you. hamzah watches intently as if he were ready to get up and make his own pot pie alongside you.

"hey! the hell are you smiling at?" martin's voice is breathy due to his trek to and from the chinese restaurant. he walks into the living room holding a crinkly plastic bag reading: "thank you! have a nice day!" with that big, yellow smiley face in between.

"huh? nothin'." hamzah dismisses and adjusts himself on the couch, "come on, 'm starving!" he reaches his hand out to take the food from martin before patting the seat next to him.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— june 2024

"so when are you gonna come see us?"

it was a surprise to see hamzah follow you on instagram a few months ago. you'd heard his name thrown around in certain spaces of the internet but never really indulged in any of his content.

his instagram had the format of a shitposting ten-year-old but it only made you curious about the humorous twenty-something. eventually you'd watched a youtube video of his; completely laughing your ass off and finding your eyes chasing after hamzah whenever he was in even the tiniest of frames.

it was never a serious crush by any means, just a nice piece of secret eye-candy who also happened to have a great personality and an enviously good work ethic (the effort martin and hamzah put into their videos was astonishing to you).

so you were quite nervous to be the first to dm him, in hopes of a friendship or a least a quick exchange of "hey." it was only right — you two had been liking each other's poss and stories a consistent amount.

the mellow first exchange between the two of you in april blossomed into you both constantly talking in your free time; your friendship quickly to developed a flirty back-and-forth dynamic that sometimes borders on way more than platonic. eventually martin was added to your consistent facetime calls and you’ve even let them convince you to create a discord account to play minecraft and grand theft auto online with them.

and now you’re lying on your leather couch with both of their faces displayed in your laptop’s screen, eager to hear your response.

“i don’t know…” you play with a loose end of the sweater you’re wearing, “what would we even do?”

they both stay quiet for a moment before hamzah laughs, “why are you acting like you don’t wanna say yes right now?”

a smile slowly grows on your face “okay… gimme a second,” you begin to google flight information to and from toronto.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— september 2024

yourusername

Liked by clairedrake, hamzahthefantastic, and others

yourusername Y’all didn’t tell me they get wild in the 6 , Omg??!! Highly requested video out neow <3

View all comments

chaserutherford 🍽️8️⃣ • ♥︎ by author

yourusername I rlly do miss u already 😖😖😖😖

ynfan01 ohhhh this was so necessary thank u mother☺️!! • ♥︎ by author

yourusername Mhm!!! Olivia Wilde head nod 💞💞

slushieeee333 y/n: slurping pasta , hamzah the whole time: 😊👀😍😊

thatmartinkid hey look ma i made it!!! 🫵😂 • ♥︎ by author

ynsnumberone THE FLIRTING WENT CRAZYYYYY

slushedyn her and hamzah are obsessed with each other i fear

thatslushykid COME BACK 2 TORONTO ASAP I NEED MORE COLLABS RN!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hamzahluver45 ok but like it’s so obvious that her trying to flirt was just irritating them the whole time !! Like girl ..💀💀

hamzahthefantastic Posting our dms is already one thing , but TAGGING ME is actually crazy 🤔🤔 • ♥︎ by author

yourusername R u mad @ me Bby???? 😕

hamzahthefantastic BruhLmaooooooooooo

freakzahfan that's one too many "o"s just say u wanna kiss her my boy

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“oh!” you accidentally trip over yourself while walking backwards and stumble into hamzah, who was standing in front of the unfamiliar grocery store, watching you prepare to give an intro. “jesus,” martin laughs under his breath from behind the camera. he lowers the camera, showing his feet but still picking up his voice in the mic, “you good?!”

the clip cuts to you stood upright again, "i'm in the six!!!" you exclaim loudly, raising your arms above your head. "and i'm here with slushy noobz to add to my series where other creators "teach me" their specialty. you tug at hamzah's arm and pull him into the frame with you, "hamzah tell them what you and martin are gonna teach me," you look up a him while still holding onto his arm. you interrupt him before he even begins to speak, "oh yeah! martin is also here by the way!" you point and martin flips the camera to himself. "they're just leaving me out it's fine, i know i'm out already, just vote just vote," he references with a sigh before turning it back to you and hamzah. "don't start! chase is on his way to come and film for us-" "listen! this is our plan-- we're gonna teach you how to mukbang; everyone knows we're very qualified in this field and know everything there is to know about the subject, so, uhh, yeah we're kinda experts. i dont know, would you say that, martin?" hamzah rambles. "yeah, i think that's a good way to describe us" "perfect! then you're teachin' me how to kiss next, right?" you ask. hamzah goes from looking at you attentively (hanging onto your every word) to a face deadpanned as he glances over to martin trying not to smile.

the video cuts to a clip with the three of you, finally, all in one shot now that chase is behind the camera. you pull a cart out from its slot and push yourself on it before standing both feet on top of the tiny foot bar, gliding through the automatic doors.

next, a clip of martin speaking to the camera while you and hamzah look through different pasta sauces together, "okay we didn't really explain this well but essentially we're all going to cook a nice dish and then eat it together in front of you guys. isn't that cute?" "yeah, can't wait for us to mukbang together" hamzah speaks. martin turns back to the camera with a smirk, "i bet you wish you were mukbanging with us huh, chase?" "no. and you just made that word up." martin's face falls.

the entire grocery shopping trip is filmed with little moments like hamzah mispronouncing a few brand names, martin talking to strangers about which pasta noodle to try, and you randomly walking off into estranged aisles "just to see if things are really different here"

now, you're all back at martin's home; you read aloud the recipe and hamzah is stood practically on top of you as he also looks down at the phone, all while martin lays ingredients out of the counter. "okay simple enough," hamzah says. "yeah, and you're still gonna make me do all of the work anyway," martin huffs sarcastically. you giggle a bit, "martin the most you'll have to do is boil water, i'll force him to do the rest." "huh???!! who??" hamzah questions, his smiley face “accidentally” leaning far too close to yours. "you, duh!" you laugh and turn away to look for a large pot.

throughout the cooking process you slowly stop helping; talking to mandy while you two eat chips and salsa while leaning on the counter or petting the pets instead of doing any of the tasks given to you from the self-proclaimed chefs.

"this is literally your video! what the hell y/n?!" martin whines when he finds you and mandy making a tiktok in his "man cave" together after you'd told them you were going to the bathroom, "seriously mandy?" all of the audio can be heard from the mics on your clothing. "where was she?" hamzah says monotonous as he scrolls on his phone. "making freaking tiktoks with mandy of course!" you giggle as you walk into the kitchen behind him, "what? the food is practically done, we're just waiting on garlic bread!" you shrug and hamzah immediately turns at the sound of your voice. "well, you gonna at least show us?" hamzah asks casually placing his hands on the counter around you, trapping you in the space between him and the marble surface. "yeah," you tilt your head so you can look at his face as you make fun of his not-so-friendly gesture, "you wanna keep breathing down my neck like that while i show you?" he laughs and moves away to cover up the embarrassment of being called out. "stop!" you laugh and bring him back into frame forcing him and martin to watch you and mandy dance on your phone screen.

the four of you sit on the carpet with plates full of chicken alfredo and pieces of garlic bread laid out on martin’s coffee table. you all talk about your experience in toronto so far, how you and hamzah first met, … et cetera.

martin attempts to teach you canadian slang: “keener is big here.” “actually? what the hell does that even mean?” “it’s kinda like a try hard— people will call you a keener if you’re doing too much, basically.” “wait tell me more!” “i mean things like buddy is way too common here. some random old guys will call me that and it always throws me off??” “yeah they always say it so demeaning,” hamzah laughs. “do you guys actually say ‘eh?’ all the time? i feel like i haven’t noticed it a lot.” you ask genuinely. “i won't lie.. i say it more often than i like to admit!” mandy says. you’ve noticed that no matter if you’re the one speaking or not hamzah’s eyes keep glancing and sometimes full on staring at you (he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks he’s finally processing that you’re actually here with them after months of wanting this) you're flattered nonetheless.

at some point hamzah and martin recreate a scene in lady and the tramp, successfully slurping at the same noodle until hamzah retreats and martin sighs at his lack of commiting to the bit. you laugh along before asking hamzah’s to share a noodle with you with a smile slapped over your face, “me next?” he fights off any blushing with a roll of his eyes and his response of, “yeah? ask me again in a sec.”

after you’ve all finished eating, you complete the video with a big smile and a promise of more collaborations in the future.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

•••

[melminli]

Could you store something with jun-hee (player 222) x f!reader plz🙏

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby

summary - it may sound a bit cliché, but you were in love with your best friend. even though you always wanted to tell her, you strongly doubted that she could use your love - you didn't know that she thought the same. you two were really stupid, huh?

pairing: kim jun-hee x fem. reader

word count: 1.1k

contains: wlw, angst w/ comfort, arguing, fluff, pre squid game au, hidden feelings

a/n: i went to a cas concert a few months ago and it was insane. this was the song that just stuck with me since then and i thought about her when i listened to it again after watching the show! hope u like it ;p

"Oh man, they forgot our spring rolls." you realized disappointed after you went through each package of food one by one until there was nothing left but napkins in the bag. You looked at your best friend as you said. "Should I go to the store and get them? I know how much you like them, and I think the owner likes me, who knows, maybe we'll get an extra portion or something, huh?"

Jun-hee just shook her head with a gentle smile on her face. "That's all right. I want to eat with you and by the time you come back, the food will be all cold and mushy." she said, reaching for the chopsticks after opening her box of fried noodles.

You sat down on the opposite chair of your little dining table in your small kitchen. "I guess, I can't argue with that." you gave in and reached for a spoon to mix your fried rice a little.

You had turned on the radio a while ago and the music it was playing accompanied the pleasant silence between the two of you. You could hardly stop yourself from thinking about how homely this all felt right now with her, as you often did in the last few days. It was sudden and you were definitely caught off guard when Jun-hee suddenly appeared at your doorstep with a packed bag in tow. You didn't know exactly what happened, but you didn't need to because you could imagine that it probably had something to do with her parents or something - it didn't matter. She would tell you when she was ready.

"I heard that this one popular show is getting a second season soon, you know..." you started to tell her and then tried to think of the title when you suddenly heard a soft howl. You immediately stood up when you saw Jun-hee sitting huddled up with her arms covering her face. "Hey, what's wrong..." you asked worriedly, not used to such an emotional reaction from her since she was usually such a collected person. This was a very rare occurrence.

She interrupted you before you could say anything else. "I'm pregnant!" she cried out, feeling the lingering guilt inside her finally take over her entire mind as she uttered those words. A few minutes passed with you just holding her like that and Jun-hee clung tightly to you, sobbing. She was worried that you might let her go - in fact, she expected you to, which is why she didn't tell you for so long.

I can't blame her for anything, I really am the worst. She thought to herself when she still couldn't bring herself to let go. No matter how selfish it might be of her.

"Is it from that Mingyu guy?" you finally asked her and she nodded vaguely, but it was enough for you to understand. Jun-hee didn't even bother to correct you when you said his name wrong.

You just sighed and even if you didn't say it out loud, she could feel how angry you were with her - how disappointed. "You're mad at me," she stated while you continued to stroke her back reassuringly, even when the position you were holding her in was a little uncomfortable for you. "Of course I am, the guy's an asshole and you're only in your early twenties," you answered her honestly, comforting her with your own broken heart. "Does he even know? Last I heard, all his fans were sending him death threats because he stole their money or something."

She didn't even want to think about it. "He's not answering my calls and I have no idea where he is."

You let out another heavy sigh. "You're really stupid sweetie, I knew that guy was like this from the beginning, really," you spoke up before looking confusedly at Jun-hee after she lifted her head from your chest and met your gaze with a furrowed brow. "Can you stop rubbing it in my face? I already know that I fucked up!" she exclaimed, completely exhausted as she continued to rub her reddened eyes.

So she wants to keep the baby, her parents probably kicked her out as soon as they found out. You massaged your forehead, exhausted. "So, what now?" you just asked her, elaborating on your question when she looked at you with a confused look. You just wanted to kiss her right now and tell her that everything would be okay again and at the same time, you wanted to smash your head through a wall and cry. "What are you going to do now with a baby on the way? Do you have a plan for how you're going to look after it?"

I don't have a job or any money. I don't know what to do. She didn't answer you right away and just avoided your gaze, embarrassed, so you reached for her hand to get her attention. "If you don't know what to do and you want me to help you, then you have to tell me," you finally said and you were probably the stupid one this time.

Jun-hee looked at you in surprise and took a few seconds to really understand what you meant. "Are you sure? You don't have to do something like that for me..."

You interrupted her relatively quickly. "I want to do this for you because -" and your love confession was almost half hanging from your lips when you stopped yourself from saying it out loud in the last second. What am I doing? This is completely the wrong time for this. "- because you can always count on me, even if no one else does."

Oh, that's right. Jun-hee thought to herself as she held her pounding heart and smiled a little forcedly. I thought she was going to say something else, how stupid of me I mean you're pregnant with another man's child right now Jun-hee, wake up. She brought herself back down to earth. You already gave her more than enough. "Please, help me."

You spread your arms out again to catch her in a hug. "We'll work it out, don't worry..." you tried to reassure her further, any unspoken feelings remaining as you both made the decision to keep them a secret.

[angelesca]

over and over, you read the sign outside a small agency, rolling the name in your head and flipping it up and down: teyvat's sleuth operatives, sleuth operatives... sounds tacky and lame...

it is only when a brown-haired someone approaches you, that your doubts are erased. their uniform neat, mastering the archetype of a professional private investigator, amber eyes unexpecting your early arrival. “you must be the new recruit, why don’t you come inside?”

edit: i think my tumblr is finally working again, hopefully this post works(-ω-、) w.c. ~3.5k / content: modern au! private investigators (PI) au! [not canon, slight ooc?] bulletpoints and scenarios, writing out of my arse again, lil' crack, another gang of idiots, total braincells: 8.88 (a high score!!), surprisingly they co-exist pretty well, zhongli doesn't know what a waffle maker is, you and childe watch a traumatic talent show, alhaitham's love lang is bickering with you, and wrio has a depressing backstory👍, tldr; working with 4 very fun guys / boss!zhongli / rival!childe / childhood friend!alhaitham / colleague!wriothesley / x gnreader

𝐳𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 as your boss!

✦ oldest member, worked in the profession for many years. however, when you ask about that, he is suspiciously evasive. zhongli seems to have lived a long life, though his appearance does not tell it

✦ out of touch with the new generation and technology. asks alhaitham to fix his computer and the kettle (bro just needed to plug it in) or asks you what the newest trendy slang means. it is a wonder how he manages the workplace

✦ tea buddies with wriothesley. hosts tea parties in the local retirement home to discuss and rate tea (power scaling tea real). there's enough boxes to last a lifetime in the breakroom. oh, zhongli is pointing at the clock. it’s… tea time… again

✦ talks your ear off about philosophical questions such as what happens after death, or whether a hotdog is a sandwich

✦ you and childe share a joint role as zhongli’s personal wallet. as to what your boss spends his paycheck on… maybe the countless snacks he leaves at your desk. and tea. more tea. poosssiibly those trinkets he has gifted you too

✦ glasses wearer. appears when zhongli is in deep concentration, due to an unexpected influx of cases so he's staring at the computer often, or during an intense reading session

ᯓ★

you flick through the papers detailing the information you recorded from your client. you and zhongli are out on a scouting mission to obtain clues that could point the case in the right direction. “are you listening?”

“mhm,” zhongli claims, but you can see your words are flowing in one ear and out the other with the way he is plucking free food samples as if they were flowers, bunched together in his hand like a bouquet, offered to him by the fawning ladies at the market stalls. the foreboding premonition of another unproductive day is brimming to the surface.

“where should we start?” you clear your throat, keeping the task on track.

“we should entertain any threads and trace it back, even if it proves to be a dead end. there is no such thing as a bad clue,” zhongli pauses in front of a shop. “for starters, what’s this?”

you raise an eyebrow. “a waffle maker.”

“interesting. what about this?”

“a robot vacuum cleaner. would be good for the office.”

“indeed,” zhongli’s eyes shift. “and this? such a profound colour, this corrosive yellow that erodes my vision is quite unpleasant. could it be…? is this a weapon of mass destruction?”

“zhongli, sir, that’s a banana.“ you shake your head. “is this important?”

zhongli nods. “could be. is it really a banana? a true investigator must question even the simplest of theories.” he points a finger at your pocket. “and this?”

“... that’s my wallet.” 

zhongli has a penchant for being attracted to your money, if he can trace the imprint of your wallet against your pocket. 

zhongli nods, closing his eyes. “a sacred item indeed,” he opens one eye which looks at you expectantly. “i suspect you have quite a formidable sum of mora on your person. and mora is an imperative factor that may save the day, or destroy the world. after all, we still do not know if the banana is deceiving us in its testimony, hm?” 

you give up, handing the money over to the shopkeeper.

his philosophy remains a cryptic language to you. perhaps it’s the gap in experience that makes it hard to connect a bridge to whatever planet zhongli lives on, a divide in universes between you, a disciple, and a master. sometimes, you do believe that there’s a rip in time and space with how zhongli’s senses lag behind as if stuck in the past.

you hand one over to your side. “here—huh?” where did he go?

one look behind you and you find zhongli by a lamp post. a young girl, scratching the ground with a sharp branch with a pout, gazes at zhongli. “who are you?”

zhongli slowly crouches down. “someone who listens to everyone’s troubles. would you mind telling me yours?”

no response. then, a small stomach growls.

zhongli motions at you. immediately, you walk over. “may i take one of the bananas?” you hand him one. “why don’t you take this?”

despite her embarrassed expression, the girl grabs it. she hesitates. “... mama, gone.”

your lips part in realisation.

“come now, we’ll help find your parents.” zhongli offers a hand but the girl extends his invitation, taking his whole arm instead, hugging it. he chuckles, picking her up, her arms naturally cradling his neck as if he is family.

you observe the warm scene, smiling. “you’d make a pretty good parent.” 

zhongli watches you, quiet for a moment. “why don't we raise one together?”

“oh, i’m not—”

“alhaitham can be the teacher; wriothesley will do the cleaning. i can do the cooking, and childe can do all the shopping. you can play the toys with the child.”

“ah. of course,” teyvat’s sleuth operatives is one big family, after all. you have to ask, “also, that banana, how did you know to buy it?”

“well, who knows?” zhongli pats the girl’s back, helping her fall asleep. there’s a glint in his eyes when he looks at you, asking you to work out the mystery. to chase after the clues he left.

another cryptic answer. the master really does live in another world—one that you want to keep learning about.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 as your rival!

✦ works for the rival agency which, unfortunately, is much more popular. when watching cat videos, their adverts often pop up with childe’s annoying face plastered on it, winking at you

✦ tags along when you are on a case. doesn’t he have anything else to do? at least he buys your fav drink from the vending machines. although he trails around you like baggage, you hate to say that he is good at what he does.

✦ … a bit too good at his job. you’ve spotted him slinking into dark alleys occasionally. what’s he doing there? one day you will know.

✦ trained under zhongli before. therefore, he is lowkey in competition with you. any task is met with the following question: who’s the better apprentice? so far, the score is even, but you’ll get him next time

✦ never enters your agency through the front door. opts to crawl in through the window (no idea why, maybe it's the challenge). comes bearing gifts such as expensive fruit baskets, bouquets, and medicinal roots like ginseng. you’d think he’s meeting his in-laws or something. rare, but may bring his younger brother teucer as well. on these days, teyvat’s sleuth operatives becomes half private agency and half daycare. 

✦ for uniform, the red shirt from his birthday art is nice. maybe a leather jacket that hangs on the shoulder. wears accessories: earrings, rings, bracelets, watches, gloves. bro is something of a fashion icon, tbf he’s rich so might as well

ᯓ★

desolation unwraps itself before you, beckoning its finger at you to sink into the drab swamps. you saw a tuft of ginger hair disappear into this alley, submerged by its fog. it is inevitable; you need to know the truth behind the mystery to quell the ‘investigator’ in you. 

as soon as you think that, your face hits against, according to your common sense, a wall—if the wall defined was actually an amalgamation of flesh and muscle. 

“need our help?” 

a voice irritates your ears. you frown, looking up at the culprit. “you can’t steal our catchphrase like that, childe.” 

childe—your rival, your nemesis, the guy who childishly filled a ketchup bottle with strawberry jam so that he could chug it in front of you, without flinching, solely to disgust you, and counted it as a victory—that childe, shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“boss, who’s dat?” a voice calls from the darkness.

your ears perk up. boss? childe? a responsible leader? no way. you push childe aside. “... who are you guys?”

a whole lot of people are uncomfortably staring at you. “us?” one man stands out from the crowd. “the fatui, duh. have ya not heard of us, newbie?” the man proudly puffs his chest out.

childe rubs his forehead. “you doofus.”

bells were ringing in your head, red alarms were sounding. “the fatui? aren’t you guys wanted?”

before you can reach for your phone, childe catches your hand. “don’t,” his tone is rigid. it takes you by surprise. “look,” childe sighs. “they’re not bad people, promise.” he lets go.

a fatui agent is dancing. “yup, we have many talents, like stealing lunch money.” that is literally illegal. “say, why don’t we host a talent show?”

“oooooh!!” a chorus of easily amused delight.

“me! me!” a burly man wearing a tank top and shorts, holds up a jar of hotdogs. he twists open the lid.

you and childe exchange glances. the next sequence of events you witness are really unfortunate. “oh– please don’t shove that up your– well, okay then.” the sky looks especially wonderful today.

these guys should be in prison after all. 

“ahaha, okay, okay,” childe gestures with his hands, asking everyone to quiet down. “alas, this should be enough–”

“but i can break into people’s houses without triggering the alarm system!”

“i can use my anemo vision to amplify my fart!”

“aha…” the light in childe’s face falters. suddenly, he grabs your hand. “run!”

“—!” in an instant, your legs suddenly burst into strides, finding the right pace to keep up with childe. “where are we going?!”

“anywhere! anywhere is good!” under the sky, the breeze carries his airy laughter. in his eyes, the blue sea parts, a brightness coruscating on its horizon. it is refreshing, brilliant, childish. and vulnerable. 

you can’t help getting carried along by the waves.

.

“i should report you… for almost getting me killed by an anemo-amplified fart,” hands on your knees, the words struggle out of your mouth.

“sorry about that, they’re just really friendly.” he laughs. you notice, the way childe expresses himself towards the fatui, it is a delicate artistry woven with heartfelt tenderness. it’s the same fragileness as when he talks about his family and home. “how about i buy you a drink?” 

you contemplate his offer. after taking a few more breaths, you stand up. “even though i know you meddle with the fatui? how does a vending machine drink suffice?” childe tilts his head, encouraging you to speak. “for a week straight at least. there’s a new cafe opening, but the prices are too steep for my wallet.”

“okay, okay,” his gentle, tender voice extends to you, lifted by a smile. the blue sea parts, and behind it is childe, offering you a place in his home. “you win this time.”

𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 as your childhood friend!

✦ more like estranged childhood friend. you left teyvat at a young age, leaving your childhood friend, alhaitham, behind. you only returned recently, surprised to find that little alhaitham grew up well 

✦ does not concern himself with anything that doesn't yield results, keeps conversations succinct, conveying what needs to be said for the job with as little words as possible. only interjects if something intrigues him, or when anyone makes a clueless comment that needs correcting

✦ favours are not regarded well. one time, you asked him to grab you some coffee if he was going out for lunch break. alhaitham sighed, listing the side effects of overconsumption on caffeine and how a sufficient amount of sleep will do you better. although, when you came back to the office after an outing, you found a mysterious cup of coffee on your desk. must be the wind

✦ dislikes outputting energy where it’s not needed. when finished with his tasks, he will head to the breakroom or the corner with the bookshelf to relax until zhongli’s next order. rarely seen at his desk

✦ went to uni for a comp sci degree but it wasn't challenging enough. dropped out, but zhongli, a guest lecturer, managed to recruit him after witnessing his talent. has rejected prestigious titles and positions in favour of a peaceful life. but with you in the picture, he wonders how long this peace would last

✦ wears strapped pouches and harnesses… around the chest... and biceps... straps around the thighs... (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) for utility ofc. equipped with useful items for the job, like a gps tracker, voice recorders, spy cameras, and his music player. 

ᯓ★

“can you afford to be slacking off right now?” the silence breaks, and you are forced to speak.

“i’m not.” you quickly glance at the time on your screen. “besides, i should start heading home before the last train runs—”

“the last train has already gone.”

“... great.” you sigh. “how come you didn’t tell me earlier?”

“the sharp possibility that you’d insist on finishing your work is comparable to chasing after a dead end, and ultimately, a waste of time.”

a trained oracle, predicting every branching future based on your rooted disposition. it is difficult to debate against that which has inputted all your details, computing every possible output.

you rest your chin on your palm. “what are you even doing here? shouldn’t you be getting your healthy eight hours of sleep?” 

“and in the time that has spanned since you’ve sat at your desk, shouldn’t you be done already?”

you object, “you can’t deflect me with a question.”

“which principle asserts otherwise? i can.”

“you can’t.”

“can.”

“can’t.”

“can–”

you sigh frustratedly, knowing that you’re talking to a wall. throw your words at it and it bounces right back, a ball hitting at you squarely. 

with purpose, you blurt out, “little haitham was so much cuter, you used to follow me everywhere.”

and finally, alhaitham looks at you for the first time today. and for the first time today, you get a good look at him too. his posture manages to be effortlessly upright, not a lick of exhaustion burdened on his face.

“why are you bringing that up?” alhaitham returns to his monitor.

the buzzing of the ceiling light fills the silence. you blink. once. “we promised to the stars that we’d be the best detective duo in teyvat.” the mechanical clicking of keyboards clogs your ears. blink. you tug at the cuffs of your sleeve. “to solve all the mysteries, crimes, and beat up the bad people hiding in the world.” 

sounds of the mouse clicking. a pause builds. alhaitham glances at you. “and? we’re doing that pretty well, aren’t we?” you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.

“i thought you’ve forgotten about that,” you admit.

“it was you who forgot.”

you sit up. “come again?” your eyes twinkle, watching alhaitham, your childhood friend. the hope that swells on your face, and alhaitham notices it; the stars in your eyes, he’s tracing the constellations in them. 

"why do you think i'm here in the first place?" his voice dips, as if hoping you didn't hear that.

a promise embedded in the stars, and one of them was waiting for the fated reunion. then, in a split second, you see a younger haitham tugging at your sleeve, following your footsteps. you hide the smile behind your hand. “you’ve been waiting for me all this time?”

“don’t flatter yourself.” alhaitham quickly extinguishes. ouch. another pause washes over before he speaks up, “come over.”

your eyes widen. “over? where?”

“to mine.”

“mine? yours?”

“my apartment. it’s close by.”

“your place?”

“yes,” alhaitham glares at you. “do i happen to be speaking in another language?”

“i mean, how come?” 

“i do not want to be investigating a missing person’s case anytime soon,” alhaitham stands up, packing his belongings, leaving you no choice but to swiftly follow suit. “and our photo albums,” he stops moving. “i've kept them.” 

your heart skips, touched by the rare sincerity. you tease, “so you do care about me.”

alhaitham scoffs. “it's only a sensible suggestion. i don’t.”

“you do.”

“don’t.”

“oh, come on.”

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 as your colleague!

✦ was classmates with you at a police academy. by the academy was an arcade where you two played too many games. after graduation, you two silently seperated. wriothesley worked in enforcement for some years before gaining his investigators licence, moved to teyvat, and eventually settled at teyvat’s sleuth operatives

✦ your current hangout place with wriothesley is still an arcade, the one by the agency - it reminds you two of the past. favourite games include money-grubbing claw machines, boxing machines, and “dancing dance rev rev” (i dont wanna get sued–). that, or you end up chatting the day away about whatever new complaints you received from alhaitham, not realising the sun has set and the owner ends up shooing you two out

✦ owns a red motorbike. will take you on rides for fun, watching sunsets on the highway feeling the breeze. will take you home whenever you need—just give him a call. he insists that the best place to hold onto is around his waist

✦ the tea connoisseur of all time. drinks a minimum of 5 cups a day, and you worry he might drop dead one day. you’ve tried to get him onto different drinks, like the popular boba tea, but plain old tea always triumphs in the end. tea is life and zhongli agrees

✦ good at subduing any targets. prefers not to shed blood, but will deescalate confrontations, usually by submission rather than violence

✦ messy uniform. shirt not buttoned all the way up, rolled sleeves, fingerless gloves, dark colours. often seen with bandages along his arm. wears a choker. like a werewolf, rugged

ᯓ★

years back, before you returned to teyvat, you attended a police academy to aid in the preparation and experience needed for your investigators licence.

you always frequented the desolate arcade by the academy. there was no door, the arcade was impartial to any of its visitors, like an open hug.

time and time again, you blew your stress off after a long day. the boxing machine was particularly satisfying in that regard. you and that machine watched the early evening resign, and the night shift taking over everyday. 

the tedium was so easily penetrated by soaking crimson, the liquid leaked vividly dripping down from the forehead. a moment was needed for you to process it. 

a dark-haired person sat languidly against an arcade machine, in a uniform you recognise. half bent-over, head tilting. the sanctity of life departing through hurried breaths. 

���h-hey,” you crouched next to him, hands outstretched but were waiting for a coherent command. “shit.” the lectures slipped by you, running past but never handing the baton. it felt useless.

suddenly, your hand was flicked away by the person. behind his fringe, it was frozen, crystallised, icicles shot past his dark strands piercing you. “don’t bother. it’s nothing.”

eyebrows furrowed. “you’re insane,” you brushed the hair out of his face, finding splotches of bruising. his lip, busted red. injuries walked all over his skin, trampling the delicate layer. his complexion ghastly pale, you weren't sure if it was his skull peeking through his skin. “i need to call you an ambulan–”

“i’m serious,” he reiterated, “i… i just need a moment, some quiet. please. i don’t want them to find…” his sentence trailed off. 

you gulped, hands trembling. “you’re sure you don’t need me to call?”

he nodded.

he reassured you, but you can’t help but feel weighed by the fact that an injured person was right next to you. you made a mental note to ensure he visits a doctor by the end of this. sighing, you slowly sat next to him.

“... i’m just stressed. tired.” his words hung heavy in the blank air.

a familiar word. a sentiment that resonated. all too familiar. 

if there was a way to cheer him up... there was only one thing you knew about feeling burdened. you point a thumb at the boxing machine. “wanna blow off some of that stress?” 

.

“do you think that the arcade by the academy is still open?”

“i hope so. i wanna know if we’re still first on all those machines. and if my bloodstain still frightens people when they walk in,” a snicker. “remember when we played ’dancing dance rev rev’ for six hours straight? those were good days.”

you and wriothesley watch the boxing machine, your joint high scores blinking on the leaderboard in excited colours. 

“do you still have those old plushies i gave you from the claw machine?” you ask.

“of course,” wriothesley searches his pockets and pulls out his keys. a miniature wolf plush keychain hangs, bobbing up and down. “like this one. named it after you, how adorable they are.” he playfully pokes "mini you", cracking a grin.

you smile at the gesture. after all these years, you never forgot each other. “hey, no bullying.” you pause. “... weren’t we supposed to be tracking a suspect? i think they have already left this arcade.”

“oh, yeah. oops.”

a pair of fraternal twins stand outside outside a small agency, reading the sign over and over: teyvat's sleuth operatives… sounds tacky and lame... they think in unison. 

it is only when you approach them, that they stop hesitating. your uniform tidy, almost mastering the archetype of a professional private investigator, smiling at your newfound clients. you are no longer the new recruit. “need our help?”

a/n: i havent played genshin seriously since inazuma so i missed out on many events ( ; ω ; ) sorry alhaitham and wrio i tried my best⭐ lemme know if my reserach sucks bc my references were ace attorney and google (ﾉД`) also i wanted to draw their uniforms but got lazy, so i drew the banner instead (･ω<)☆ anw im off to read more manhwa (great start to the year), ill be back when the motivation finally whacks me hard again. if anyone wants to request ideas, feel free! my inbox is open 24/7! happy new year!!!! 🎆🎆🎆2025 will also be the year of the snake, so shoutout to all my snakes😎

[yuri-is-online]

The sheer untapped angst of Jamil in the fyuuture au is haunting me so it's your problem now /hj. I'm trying so hard to be normal right now ugh take my thoughts please they need to get out of my skull so that I can articulate to others how much the fate of Jamil in the first timeline just haunts me. It's like a weeping angel I can't take my eyes off of it and the moment I do it just kills me to fathom the possibilities.

But god imagine being Jamil and you have someone who for the first time is solely on your side, no other reason than that they chose you because they like you and want to stand by your side. I imagine Jamil must have had reservations about potentially dragging yuu into the job of servitude but like hell that was gonna stop them. And then he's happy because he has an actual life outside of Kalim, they've matured over the years and Jamil has more freedom from him than he ever had. He once couldn't fathom condemning a child to share his last name but he is going to be a father and he's so excited.

Then it's just gone. Yuu isn't next to him when he wakes up one morning and the front door of the house is still open. It's a surprise he didn't wake up from the smell of the food burning in the kitchen but he can't think straight because something is so clearly horribly wrong. All of their things are where they left them, their phone is still on the kitchen counter and they didn't take their keys. Neither of them were working in the months leading up to the birth of the child, a gift from Kalim he hadn't refused. He's panicking and in his panic he does something he never would have fathomed himself doing, he reaches out to Kalim for a help.

By the time he gets a response it kills him. He will never know what happened to his spouse or child, Kalim will never get his message, the next time Kalim sees Jamil after the latter's baby shower and paternity leave, will be when his corpse is being dragged along by the sorcerer of the sands. It will ironically be, the last thing he sees.

There is a lot of tragedy in this ayuu, but with Jamil specifically it verges into horror in a way I didn't fully appreciate when I drafted it.

Jamil is essentially a feudal vassal who wishes for the freedom to be a normal member of society. He also, and this is so important to his character even though it often gets overlooked, wants his family to be respected. His parents, his sister, his first memory is them kneeling to a different set of parents and that kills him inside.

For you to come from a world where his situation is somewhat of a foreign concept and still choose him, choose to throw your support behind him because he is worth reforming the world for- it is everything to him. He got his happy ending through hard work and he deserves it, so why is it being taken from him? Why is Kalim's mess of a family taking from him again?

I don't think Jamil ever realizes it has nothing to do with him; the idea that he was collateral damage isn't really something that computes with how his life has been up until that point. The behavior of his phantom certainly doesn't help anyone realize that either, the way it hunts down the Al Asims and controls the people of his home you would assume that was all the corpse that birthed it wanted. That it would have been better off for everyone if there had been no baby shower planned, no paternity leave, no child to begin with. But that's not true. It was never about Jamil, he was just there and it was convenient to blame him for it.

Something that child will realize he has been doing too when he's forced to see just how happy his father really was, once upon a dream.

[biteyoubiteme]

biteyoubiteme's 2024 tumblr wrapped

2024 is over and now we are on to 2025! im so happy to have joined the writing community here on tumblr this year and im so excited for whats to come now in the new year! I wanted to share some of my fav fics from this year but there isn't nearly enough space for me to talk about all the amazing fics I read this year but just know that anything I liked or reblogged im so thankful to have read bc it’s so fun and heartwarming that we all share our fics together to enjoy for free with people who love the same things as us.

ive met so many amazing people on this app and im so happy to share a space with such amazing writers and readers and get to just talk about cute boys with you all. ;-; <333

cams fic stats:

-56 fics/drabbles/thoughts -116.77k words written

cams personal favs:

busy signal wc: 4.7k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] my first fic! im so happy I just up and posted this baby even if I was scared lol im so much better for it and I love love love the yeonkai au ive got going on and ill say that all the yeonkai x reader fics I have on my m.list are just my favs bc I really do love them all but this one was the starts so ill give it the floor. black cherry flavored wc: 9.2k (ot5) [NSFW] this was by far my most popular txt fic and the one I had the most fun and stress writing- I love the way it turned out and im so happy so many of you guys loved it just as much as I did. I was so worried with how it would come across I just love love love that so many of you liked it and im so excited for kinktober 25' already planning out the ot5 fic so yay for that lol bubble gum flavored wc: 6k [NSFW] this fic was just smut basically but it was the one fic that I was so so so so so excited for bc I just love it like beomiebear will be in my head forever im working on pt2 and just ugh I love him he’s always on my mind- lemon cake wc: 8.9k [NSFW] LEMON DROP SOOBIN SAVE ME oh I loved this fic bc I got to work with all my friends on it and it jsut made me so so so giddy- ugh I love to work with amazing writers and I love it even more that I got to be apart of the collab in the first place ;-; bitten wc: 3.8k [NSFW] for someone with the user name that I have I don't nearly have enough vampire content and I need to fix that- I loved this fic and I wish I could have made it like 17k bc I would do it and id do it again and again and again.

cams fav reads of 24'

again I wish I could put like a million links on this bc I read so many good fics in 2024 but sadly I cannot but just know if I left a reblog or like on a fic I was happily fed by your work <333 these are not in order at all!!!

heartworm - @hyukascampfire - huening kai / txt I adore this fic so so so much and I think about just how delicious ashs writing style is every single day- I will keep thinking about this fic until I can't think thoughts any longer Betrayal - @apeachty - yeonkai x reader / txt I love everything nina writes and the two of us have our pinkieslocked as we giggle about yeonkai and I need everyone to go and check out all her works bc im only putting one but I love them all. also dropping the link to this soobin drabble with small boobs reader bc I love it sm! fluffy ice - @beomiracles - yeonjun / txt serene wrote so much this year and so much of it is so fucking good but this, although short drabble, just stays in my mind. I love how sweet and innocent it is while having darker elements. serenes writing style just fits this topic so well and id read it over and over again. Escapism - @prince-jjae - yeonjun / txt UGH! no one could get me away from escapism yeonjun- how many times do I have to reblog this to get across the point that I loved it sm? cause ill do it again, ill read it again, and ill love it so much more for it. I love jjaes writing style I wanna break a piece off and swallow it whole okay bc I love it sm. bitten - @silvergyus - huening kai / txt VAMPIRE FICS and a huening vampire fic at that- ugh I loved this I love innocent kai and I love even more that it’s vampire reader- I love this idea so much and what is an ari fic without mirror sex??? I love it so much more becuase of it- good pup - @bandgie - minho x reader x seungmin / skz I love everything bandgie writes but this one took the cake for me this year im still thinking about it and it’s not even something that I ever usually read but ill read anything they put out and I learned something new about myself- also all the coraline fics- ugh this idea was so fucking good and I love love love it switch to me - @chyuuiung - beomkai x reader / txt I LOVED THIS FIC I think about this fic all the time, I post about it all the time and yeah I miss chyuu sm but I need everyone to know what I love this fic and ill keep loving it and thinking about it forever and ever- under the moon - @miupow - felix / skz oh how this fic took me out- I still love it I still think about it and I need to give felix my firstborn asap he’s just so yummy in this fic and lias so descriptive and ugh a hyper pink room and a demon core is my vibe everyday okay I love it the willow tree - @hyukalyptus - yeonjun / txt I LOVE PRINCE YEONJUN I love even more a good rekindled lovers fic and even more so I love a fic thats long and gives so much bc this gave me what I wanted and more- it even had me giggling at times and I love a good fic that can do that- im still thinking about him even now strawberry dreams - @thetxtdevil - huening kai / txt ugh how I begged for mae to work on this fic bc the idea omfg- all of maes ideas are so good I don't know how her mind works but it’s a sexy idea factory- I love Blueberry!kai SO MUCH!!! and im so happy with all the strawberry land fics that were born from this one idea thank you mae you're mind- I will never shut up about it actually Strawberryland m.list

ugh I wish I could add more bc I have so many more recs-

cams 2025 goals:

-although I feel like I will be slowing down in 25' I plan to write longer plot heavy fics since I have several in the making already- -I want to try and keep up with reading new fics bc it’s so much fun to read what everyone esle is doing and sometimes I get lost in just writing and forget what made me want to start in the first place. -and I want to interact with more of you guys! moots or not I hope we can chat and giggle of fics and cute boys bc I love to do that lol thats why im here <333

but here is to 2025! ily all <333

inspo for this post from @heechwe 's post !!!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(The Last Unicorn AU)

Long ago in a faraway kingdom there was a forest that housed all sorts of magical creatures. But the most beautiful was the unicorn. Sadly the unicorns started to slowly disappear until only one was left. This was a young male unicorn named Lucifer. He hadn’t realized he was the last until one day hunters came upon him and decided to not kill him for he was the last.

Lucifer: Am I really the last unicorn.

Lucifer was a beautiful white unicorn with blue eyes. He decided to leave the forest to find out the fate of the others. He traveled for days, but he didn’t hear anything. Since he was outside the enchanted forest he looked like a horse to humans. It wasn’t until a spider in a web caught his attention that he found out the fate of the unicorns. This fluffy little pink and white spider was named Angel.

Angel: A unicorn, you don’t see your type very often now.

Lucifer: Why is that?

Angel: As far as I know they were gathered up by the Red Bull and driven into the ocean for King Alastor’s entertainment. He lives in an old castle on a cliff hanging over the ocean with his adopted son. You don’t want to go there, you would be driven into the sea as well and then there would be no more unicorns.

Lucifer: But I must find them.

Angel: Good luck unicorn.

Lucifer traveled until it was night and he went to sleep. What he didn’t realize was that he had fallen asleep close to a carnival run by Mammon and Mammon had a young sorcerer named Stolas work for him.

Mammon: Well what do you know, a unicorn.

Since both Mammon and Stolas had magic they could see magical beings like unicorns.

Stolas: What are you going to do with him?

Mammon: Put him in a cage so I can have people come and see him. Put him in iron chains.

Stolas: Are you sure it is wise, you are already on a dangerous path with that harpy you have locked up.

Mammon: Do as I say sorcerer.

Stolas put Lucifer in iron chains and put him in a cage with iron bars even though he didn’t like it.

When Lucifer woke up he was shocked to find that he was chained up in a cage. Stolas looked at him with sad eyes.

Lucifer: Please, you have to let me go I need to see the King.

Stolas: I want to, I really do but..... If my boss found out.

To say it wouldn't end well would be an understatement.

Stolas: But..... What if you were something that the iron couldn't hurt?

Lucifer: What do you mean?

Looking around, Stolas made sure that Mammon was nowhere to be seen. He used his magic to turn Lucifer into a human.

Lucifer: WHAT THE-!?

Stolas: SHHH!! Please be quiet I'm only trying to help. Now you can slip out.

Lucifer was freaked out by this but he did get out. Stolas even gave him a tunic to cover himself.

Lucifer: Okay change me back.

Mammon, in the distance: What was that!?

Stolas: There's no time, you have to leave now. I'll turn you back another day but please go!

So Lucifer did and he was told and ran away.

[starmieknight]

Stars Align

The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 2

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

AO3 link

Concept Art

Legend of the Gobblewonker (Art)

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters Pt. 1, Headhunters Pt. 2, Headhunters Pt. 3, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 1 (previous)

WARNING: There is a mention of concentration camps and antiquated ways of referring to the LGBTQ+ community in this chapter. In keeping with the times that Stan was raised and the communities he might have encountered growing up, I'm deciding to use these terms until he can get some education from the kids. Personally, I may have him use 'queer' to define himself since that's the term I use for myself. Just a heads up.

“Dipper, where's your sister?” 

“.... who?” 

Stan gave his nephew an unimpressed look and crossed his arms expectantly. 

“I don't know! She didn't tell me! And, plus, I told her not to!” 

“Oh dude,” Soos chuckled from where he and Wendy were looking through the new magazines. “You folded faster than a British butler. That's gotta be, like, a record or something! 

“Don't know anything, huh?” Stan's eyes narrowed as he leaned in, blocking any escape routes. Dipper's eyes darted away from him nervously, trying to find anything to look at besides his grunkle. “Then you wouldn't happen to know… what Mabel's doing in the paper next to that greasy pickpocket Gideon?!” 

“Oh yeah, it's a pretty big deal," Wendy said easily, showing Stan her phone's group chat. Between her and that little screen, ― which was a lot easier to see now ― Stan knew all he needed to know about the upcoming date. 

“That little shyster has no right to date my great-niece!” Stan shouted, crumpling up the offending news article that had threatened his blood pressure when he saw it at the breakfast table. 

Soos didn't help anything with his couple name speculations. 

Stan hurried to don his jacket and grabbed his keys. 

“This ends tonight!” He declared hotly. “I'm going right down to that little skunk's house and putting a stop to this! Right! Now!”  

He snatched up his cane, slamming the door behind him. He’d club the little brat over the head if he had to!

He couldn't believe the nerve of those kids, sneaking around behind his back! And here he thought that he and Mabel had reached an understanding! 

Moses, she really was too much like Ford. 

Never listened to reason, either of them! Never thought that Stan knew what he was talking about. They just had to get out there and stick their noses where they didn't belong. 

Well, he wasn't going to let Mabel go tripping through some strange portal because she was too curious for her own good! 

Stan spun the wheel sharply, screeching into a parking space at the gate of the Gleeful home. He threw a rock at the billboard of Gideon as he stormed up the entryway. 

The little hand stitched sign on the door only served to aggravate him further. 

“I will pardon nothing!” Stan scoffed, slapping the sign off the door. 

Buddy Gleeful opened the door, looking down at him with irritation. 

“Can I help you, young man?” 

Young man? What was Bud smoking in there― 

Oh yeah. 

Stan puffed up, wondering if he'd always had to look up slightly to meet Bud's eyes and put on his best ‘grumpy, old man’ expression. The effect was somewhat dampened by his babyface, but he pushed on anyway.

“Out of the way, bud.”, he commanded. “I'm looking for Gideon.” 

Bud perked up at that. 

“My goodness,” he exclaimed, tone changing entirely. “You must be one of my boy’s new little friends! Come in, come in! I haven't seen the boy around, but I'm sure he'll be back in just a minute. He's got a new little girlfriend he's just crazy about!”

“Yeah!” Stan stomped his foot, but couldn't get away from Bud dragging him inside. “Mabel's my nie― cousin!” 

“Cousin!” Bud exclaimed in surprise, leaning down to look at Stan better. “Why, are you Stanford's son? I never knew he had a boy of his own! Well, apart from that Jesús fellow, but you are the spittin’ image of him!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan said uncomfortably, avoiding Bud's eyes. “Stanley Pines… The Second.” 

“Good to meet you, son!” Bud clapped him on the back jovially and ushered him to the sofa. “Sit down, sit down! Honey, would you mind gettin’ us some lemonade? Young Stanley here must be parched, wearin’ that suit in this heat! We wouldn't want our son's future in-law fallin’ out on us, now would we?” 

“Yes, dear.” Mrs. Gleeful said blankly, pausing only a moment to peer at Stan before disappearing into the kitchen. 

“Wait, what?” Stan blinked rapidly at the clown painting on the wall, temporarily in awe of the beautiful contrast the artist had used. He wouldn't mind having that hanging in the Shack… No― he couldn't get distracted now! “Future in-law?! Absolutely not!” 

“Well, when the kids are singin’ in harmony, what can you do?” Bud chuckled, accepting a glass of lemonade from his wife when she returned. “Thank you, hon.”

“You're welcome, dear,” Mrs. Gleeful said absently, her empty eyes settling on Stan. “Did you say your name was Stanley?” 

“The Second!” Stan said hastily. “After my late uncle.” 

“From Jersey?” 

“Yeah, from ― how do you know that?” Stan said sharply as he sat up.

“I've got a cousin from there,” Mrs. Gleeful murmured, a little more life entering her expression. She looked almost wistful. “She was a bit older than me, but she used to have this boyfriend named Stanley. He was… a beautiful dancer.”  

Stan felt his hands get sweaty and he nearly dropped his lemonade. Which, speaking of ― when did she put that in his hand? 

“I, uh―” he muttered anxiously. “I never met the guy. Think he died or something…” 

“What a shame.” Mrs. Gleeful sighed. 

At least Bud looked just as uncomfortable as Stan felt.

“Honey, we don't talk about Carla, remember?” he said tightly as he fixed his car salesman's smile on Stan again. “So, my boy, how's your father doing? With my Gideon and y’all's Mabel hittin’ it off so well, I'd like to talk to him about the fantastic business opportunity it could provide us with!” 

“Whatchu talkin’ about, buddy?” Stan fixed the man with an unimpressed glare. 

“Think of it!” Bud exclaimed, spreading his arms theatrically. “The Mystery Shack and the Tent of Telepathy! Your father and I have been at each other's throats for far too long, yes, we have! This is our big chance to brush aside our rivalry and pool our collective profits, y’see?” 

Stan felt his face light up at the idea of profits, but then he hesitated.

Any other time he might have jumped at the opportunity. It just sounded too good to be true. Which is what stopped him in his tracks. 

The lemonade was all right, but it wasn't enough to distract him like a good cup of Colombian coffee might have.

And the idea of using Mabel as a business tool… just didn't settle with him. Maybe it was the lack of cataracts, but somehow, something about this whole setup just looked off to him. Like some kind of honeypot.

He’d dealt with those before, but it had been so long that being thrown back into the pits was startling. The whole thing reminded him of the weekend he'd met Marilyn in Vegas. She'd lured him in with sweet words and the promise of working together to get ahead in life ― and then she tried to steal his car.

“Tell Gideon,” Stan began coldly. “That if I catch him steppin’ out with Mabel again, raykh zol er zayn un hobn tsvey oytos. Eyn oyto zol loyfn khapn far im a dokter, un der tsveyter zol loyfn moydie tsu zayn, az s’iz shoyn nokh alemen!”

He stood up, relishing the stunned looks on the Gleefuls’ faces and wondering just when the spirit of his late mother had decided to speak through him. 

Eh, whatever. It was effective all the same. 

Stan slammed the door on his way out, stomping on the flowers in the garden as he went. 

He still had to find Mabel. 

Stan returned home to find a morose Mabel and a lobster in his fish tank. 

As long as his mother's spirit was infecting him, he might as well get in a good lecture.

_____________________________________________________________

“She doesn't know how to call it off with Gideon and not hurt his feelings.” Dipper said as he and Stan stared at the girl. She was laying face down against the armchair cushions and making sounds that would have been right at home in a whale documentary. 

Stan felt some of this previous ire fade and he slumped in exasperation. She just looked so sad. He was a little disappointed that he wouldn’t get to give his lecture.

“You want to deal with that while I take care of Gideon?" he asked, jabbing a thumb in his niece’s direction. 

Dipper grimaced at the idea and lifted a hand to lower Stan's arm. 

“Maybe I should be the one to break the news to Gideon? Mabel and I talked about it, but maybe you should talk to her. Weren't you married before? Just tell her what not to do in a relationship.”

“Kid, that marriage only lasted four hours.” Stan grumbled, shoving his nephew's hat down until the boy stumbled blindly. “But fine, give that little brat a few licks on my behalf and I'll talk to your sister. Y’think some ice cream’ll help?”

“Couldn't hurt!” Dipper gasped, finally freeing his head from his hat. “Be back soon.” 

Stan watched him go for a moment, a slight smile curling his lips. 

Yeah, the kid really was a lot like him. Especially when it came to protecting their siblings. He only hoped that Dipper and Mabel would turn out better than him and Ford. 

“You doing okay there, pumpkin.” Stan asked, sitting on top of the T-Rex skull and leaning over to rub her back. 

Mabel let on another whale sound before turning her head just enough to peek up at Stan. 

“I don't know,” she admitted, defeat evident in her tone. “I just wanted a friend and Gideon keeps trying to turn himself into a boyfriend. Grunkle Stan, dealing with boys is hard.” 

Stan snorted. “Don't I know it? They don't get any better as you grow up either. Learned that the hard way back when I was dating Jimmy snakes in New York.” 

New York in the late seventies hadn't been all that bad at first. The people that were more colorful and had a tendency to look the other way when they saw something shady going down. And the night life there was nearly as good as Vegas's. 

Jimmy hadn't been that bad at first either. He was a cool cat with his own place and a motorcycle that he could go all night. In more ways than one, if you caught his drift. 

But all good things had to come to an end and Stan had to leave Jimmy and the town if he wanted to keep his head attached to his neck.

“You had a boyfriend?!” Mabel cried in shock, finally sitting up. “I didn't know you could do that!”

“Kid, people can love whoever they want.” Stan shrugged, trying to shake the age-old memory of his father's lectures about homosexuals and the things he'd seen done to them while helping break down concentration camps in Germany.  Pa’d always gotten a strange look in his eye when he talked about his army days and inevitably trailed off. But the parts he did talk about were horrifying. Stan refocused on Mabel. “But that doesn't give Gideon the right to push you for anything. No one has the right and don't you ever let them guilt you into believing otherwise. Just punch them in the kisser if they try!”

Mabel snickered and threw a mock punch that didn't look too bad. 

“That's what mom says too!” She said cheerfully. “And our kickboxing coach!” 

“You a fighter, huh?” Stan snickered, ruffling her hair. “Maybe I should be teaching you the ol’ Pines’ Family Boxing Moves.”

“Yeah!” Mabel lit up even further at the idea. She looked at Stan with stars in her eyes. “Will you really teach me?”

“If it’ll help keep yous two outta trouble,” he agreed, tugging her to his chest. She hugged him back readily, feeling like a little furnace for his heart.

He’d do anything to protect these kids. And teaching them how to box! Even if Ford hadn’t liked the lessons, it was still something they had fun doing together. And now he could share the experience with his niblings, too!

Now, they just had to finish getting that money-grubbing, fake psychic out of their hair and they’d be golden!

_____________________________________________________________

The whole Gideon situation was getting way out of hand. Something had gone wrong with the ‘breakup’ and now both the twins were missing!

Stan was grumbling about it the whole time as he headed up to one of the Gleefuls’ old factories. He'd found the address written down in Dipper’s handwriting on a carbon copy in the receipt book. And then he found out from Wendy that Mabel had gone off to break up with Gideon in person, having felt bad about Dipper doing it for her, not realizing she was following her brother right into a trap!

What was with these kids?!

He blamed Ford.

Somehow, someway, it had to be his brother's influence causing the kids to get into situations like this. Maybe it was genetics. Or, more likely, it was that damn journal of his! Stan still wasn't having any luck in getting his hands on the one Dipper had. 

Would it kill the kid to leave it laying around somewhere? He even took it into the bathroom with him on the rare occasion when he showered.

Speaking of which, Stan really needed to have a talk with his nephew about hygiene. 

He sighed, wondering just what had become of his life, and rounded the curve. The factory was now in sight and ― Sweet Moses!! 

Stan hit the brakes, the car squealing in protest, and watched in horror as a pair of tiny figures toppled over the side of the cliff.

“Kids.” He screamed, flooring the car in the direction of their fall. He cut off the car and threw himself out, nearly face planting in the dirt. 

Thankfully, there were no splatters of his family littering the forest floor but he couldn't deny the sight of Dipper and Gideon caught in some green, mystic glow while Mabel floated overhead, wreathed in the same unearthly light.

Stan collapsed to the ground, unable to hear the kids’ conversation over the pounding in his ears. 

Oh God, he could have lost them and he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

All because of Gideon. 

He didn't know how he found himself on his feet or why the twins were suddenly yelling at him, but he had his hands on that pudgy, little brat and memories from Mississippi were flooding back to him. Eight-Ball Alcatraz had gotten his hands dirty in that muddy water more than once ― never for murder but, hey! He was young again and there was plenty of time to try something new.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel shrieked, launching herself into his arms and forcing him to drop Gideon. 

The boy fell back, squealing like the pig he was, and scrambled away, various items spilling from his hair like a trail of breadcrumbs.  

A flash of gold inevitably caught his eye. 

Stan pivoted, snatching Dipper up as well, and fell to the ground once more with the twins safely encased in his arms. 

“I thought I lost you two.” He admitted, burying his face in their wild curls. “Oh Moses, I saw you go over that cliff―”

“Grunkle Stan…” Dipper squeezed free of the embrace just enough to stare at his uncle with surprise. 

And why wouldn't he, considering how gruffly Stan treated the boy? It was hard to handle Dipper the same way he did Mabel. Pines boys had to be tough, so you had to treat them tough. Make them strong enough to face the world on their own ― because the world would never be kind to them.  

That was the way Filbrick had taught his sons and Stan had always believed in it for some reason.

But holding Dipper and Mabel like this after that scare made him re-evaluate his plans for the summer. He never wanted the kids to think he didn't love them ― no matter how much he needed to pretend otherwise for the sake of his ruse.

Even Ford wasn't worth pushing away what he added with the kids right now. 

“Grunkle Stan, what happened with you?” Mabel asked, grabbing his face. Her own was crinkled with concern and a trace of fear that made his heart clinch. “That was ― That was really scary.” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbled, avoiding her eyes. “I just… lost it there for a second. I told you that Gideon was no good!”

“Considering the way he swore vengeance on our entire family,  I agree.” Dipper said tiredly, his eye beginning to swell. Gideon must have gotten in a good hit while they were falling. 

Stan squeezed them a little tighter. “I won't let him get even close.”

“We destroyed his amulet.” Dipper assured him, relaxing at the reminder. “You saw that… right? How Mabel saved us with a magic amulet? Well, at least you can't deny that magic exists anymore, right?”

The boy chuckled nervously, looking up at his uncle with a margin of hope.

Stan sighed heavily. “Kid, I've always known.”

There went the cat, the bag dragging along behind it like some half rotten corpse. 

The twins looked up Stan in shock.

 “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“I'm not an idiot, Dipper.” Stan rolled his eyes, exasperation seeping into his tone. “Of course this town is weird! And the one thing I know about that weirdness is that it's dangerous! Case in point ― Gideon and his magic amulet. You could have died, you knucklehead!”

“Then, you being all young again…” Mabel's eyes were wide as saucers. “Why lie about that?”

“I wanted to keep you away from it all. To protect you. Looks like I can't lie about that anymore. Not if I want to keep yous two in one piece.”

The twins shared a look, some silent conversation taking place between them. Stan recalled sharing many of those looks with Ford when they were kids. 

“We're sorry for keeping this from you, Grunkle Stan.” Dipper said.

“Yeah, we never meant to get caught up in all those wacky messes.” Mabel agreed, a bit more lively than her brother. “They just sort of happened!”

“And we haven't even seen half of the things in the journal yet.” Dipper added, a strange mix of worry and nerves crossing his face.

“Journal, huh?” Stan looked away from the twins, only a fraction of his real interest showing in his tone. “Think I could take a look at that?”

Dipper's face creased with worry. “I guess… if you agree to give it back!”

“Only if you promise to use it for self-defense and not go looking for trouble.”

If that was the only way to get the journal, then so be it. He'd just have to keep a closer eye on the twins until the end of summer. 

“Well then,” Dipper fumbled, still not wanting to give over his most prized possession so easily. “You don't have any other bombshell secrets about this town you plan on dropping on us, do you? 

“No, I think that's it for the town.” Stan hummed in agreement, grateful for the loophole his nephew had inadvertently given him.

Now, bombshells about their family…

Mabel yawned against Stan’s chest, snuggling further into him. “Can we go home now?”

“Yeah,” Stan agreed, finally releasing the kids. “First one to the car gets to ride shotgun with me!” 

The twins leapt at the opportunity, suddenly revitalized by sibling rivalry, shooting away from Stan like rockets.

He grinned after them before rising to his feet and picking up his loot.

 The six fingered hand gleamed beneath the moonlight, a bold black number two in the center. 

“Finally,” he breathed reverently, placing his hand over the gold foil. “After all these years, I have them all…”

[callmearcturus]

Well, my end of year round-up is a lil sparse this year.

In 2024, I wrote 130,292 words.

Which, I hate that I made a little sad face at that because it's largely because I feel like last year my take-away was I wrote Way Too Much and needed some better balance. SO I'M TRENDING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION.

From this year:

catch and hold: 60,464

you'll need a new name to survive this: 68,270

a rescue mission: 1,558

Even those deserve an asterisk, as new name is co-written with @interropunct and I have tapped him in for help one a few scenes in catch and hold.

This coming year, I have a few things I want to work on.

We're gonna finish new name before MI8 comes out.

I have a truly batshit AU to write. Or, wait, I have two, one is the three-act movie AU, the other is the batshit weird mech body horror/euphoria AU.

i still think regularly about the video essay for Asteroid City. I dunno if I have that in me tho.

I have a few other things I'm kicking around.

More than anything, I'm writing less but I really like what I'm writing. The topics are interesting and emotional, self-indulgent like staring into a mirror until you see something new about yourself.

I tend to sort of coast on, uh, literally 22-ish years of writing to just play around and see what happens. But it's fun to try new things. With new name, trying to tell a story spanning that fucking long and keep it consistent has been the flex. I think the movie AU is going to be difficult as well for other reasons. Recontextualization and emotion-driven stories rather than plot-driven.

But at the end of the day, unfortunately writing is still my favorite pasttime. 😔

[sailforvalinor]

For Christmas ficlet!

Harry and Monty, fruitcake

-Rain

This takes place in my fix-it AU, where the Potters live, and Harry has a younger brother.

When Ron and Harry walked into the Potter’s kitchen on a cold afternoon a couple of days before Christmas, they found Monty sitting at the kitchen table, apparently contemplating a fruitcake. It sat on a plate in the center of the table, and a piece of foil sat beside it, as if it had just been unwrapped.

“Harry,” he said, not looking up, “fruitcake.”

“Oh, right,” said Harry, as if that told him everything he needed to know. He took a seat across from Monty, and also began contemplating the fruitcake just as intently as his brother.

“Um…fruitcake?” Ron echoed, bewildered. He studied the dessert in question. Nothing seemed particularly remarkable about it; it just appeared to be a normal round fruitcake—meaning that it looked stodgy and unappetizing.

Both of the boys were too lost in thought to answer Ron’s question. He noticed that while Harry looked excited, Monty had a bit of a grim set to his mouth. After a few seconds, Harry commented, “Looks pretty solid this year.”

“Yeah,” Monty agreed. There was another pause as they continued to think. “Take turns dropping it from our window?” Monty suggested.

“Boring,” Harry said.

“What?” Ron said. Was this fruitcake hexed? Cursed?

“Tug of war,” Harry said. “Tie two bits of string to it, whoever gets the bigger half—“

“—like a wishbone? Like the Americans do?”

“Yeah.”

“Not sure how you’d actually get the string to work…”

Just at that moment, Ginny came in from the sitting room. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Fruitcake,” Monty said.

“Ah.” Just like Harry, Ginny seemed to think this explained everything. Coming over to lean on the back of Monty’s chair, she also joined them in the contemplation of the fruitcake.

“Just what is going on here?” Ron asked.

“Sparklers,” she said after a moment. “Big ones. Stick a bunch in the top, light them, and—“

“—nobody wins at sparklers, Gin,” Monty said, crossing his arms.

“Everybody wins at sparklers, Fleamont.”

Monty raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Ron felt like he was losing his mind. “Is somebody going to tell me what in the name of Merlin is going on with this fruitcake?!” he exclaimed.

Suddenly, there was a loud CRACK, and with it came James Potter, apparating into the kitchen barely a foot from where Ron was standing. “Rejoice, boys, your fruitcake-y musings are over!” he exclaimed grandly. “For I have—ooh, sorry, Ron,” he said, noticing Ron having to stumble back. He patted him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here though,” he said with a conspiratorial grin. “You’re just in time.”

Ron couldn’t help but grin back—Harry’s dad was just so cool. “With what, Mr. Potter? With the…” He floundered, unsure. “The fruitcake?” he asked tentatively.

James blinked in surprise. “What, Harry didn’t tell you?”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “What, you don’t know?” He seemed genuinely shocked.

“Obviously not, mate.”

“Really? I could have sworn I’ve told you about this before…” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Well, the fruitcake’s from our Aunt Petunia. She and my mum don’t talk anymore. She’s kind of…anti-wizard.“

“—not to mention, anti-James,” James muttered under his breath, with a slight grin.

“She sends a fruitcake every Christmas, though,” Harry said.

“Honestly, I can’t tell if it’s meant to be a peace offering or hate mail,” Monty mused. Ginny snorted.

At Ron’s questioning look, Harry explained, “It’s absolutely horrible. It’s like eating chunky glue.”

“You would know,” Monty pointed out innocently.”

“That was a gluestick, and I was five. Anyway, you’d probably know better—you’re the one who always ends up eating it.”

Ron stared at Monty. “Why would you eat the fruitcake if it tastes like chunky glue?”

“Hey, I don’t eat it willingly,” Monty said. “We play a different game every year involving the fruitcake. Loser has to eat it. Or…” He turned slightly green. “Whatever’s left of it.”

“What does the winner get?” Ron asked.

“They don’t have to eat the fruitcake,” Harry said, as if it was obvious.

“Oh.” It all seemed a little bit masochistic to Ron, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Thank you for the explanation, boys,” James said. “Now, I hearby declare that this year’s Fruitcake Game has been decided!”

“It has?” Harry and Monty asked in unison.

“Fruitcake hockey!” It was then that Ron noticed that he’d leaned nine or ten hockey sticks against the wall as they were talking. How he hadn’t noticed him holding them when he’d apparated in, he had no idea. “Had the idea when I saw that the lake was frozen this morning. Encasing this thing in ice will make for a solid oversized hockey puck. I already invited Pads and Moony—Tonks, too,” he added, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Two teams—I bet your uncles can rig up something like nets—and Ron, Ginny, I’m sure we’ve got some skates that will fit you around here somewhere. Losing team has to split the fruitcake.”

“Cool!” Ron said.

“Wicked!” Harry exclaimed.

Monty, on the other hand, looked greener, if possible. Despite looking uncannily like a smaller version of James (sans-glasses), he hadn’t inherited many of his daredevil tendencies. “Do we actually have to use the fruitcake? Can’t we use an actual puck?”

“As per the rules of The Fruitcake Game—which I made up—no, the fruitcake must actually be integrated into the game for the game to be recognized as a valid Fruitcake Game,” James said, with matter-of-fact glee. “Freezing it might make it a little soggy when we’re done with it, but I’m not sure you could make it taste much worse.”

Ron blanched a little at the thought of eating soggy fruitcake, but it mostly served to fuel his desire not to lose. A glance at Harry and Ginny told him that they probably shared his sentiments, but Monty still seemed unconvinced.

“But Dad,” Monty protested, “did you actually look closely at the lake to see if it was safe for skating? Did you test it?”

“Well…no,” James admitted.

“Somebody could fall through!” Monty exclaimed.

Ron was surprised that Monty was getting so worked up over this whole thing—“worked up” and “Monty” weren’t usually words that went together. Then again, he was the overly cautious type, and, given his alleged track record with Fruitcake Games, was probably facing being forced to eat wet-chunky-glue-cake. A perfect storm.

“I think you’re forgetting something.” James suddenly knelt down in front of Monty and took his face in his hands. Ginny backed away from them a little, watching them with a mystified expression. “You, my son,” James said, with exaggerated solemnity, “are a wizard.” He pulled his wand out of his jacket and waggled it at him. “And so am I. And as wizards, we know little spells like Glacius.” At the incantation, a puff of mist shot out of the tip of his wand and hit the petal of a poinsettia sitting on the counter, covering it in ice.

Monty didn’t look impressed. “Dad, what if one of the Muggles sees you doing that?”

“You, my son,” James said, with the same level of gravitas, “are a wet blanket.”

“Mum,” Monty called, “Dad just called me a wet blanket!”

“Well, he is a little bit right,” Lily’s voice answered from upstairs.

“Mum!” Monty protested.

A moment later, she came downstairs and joined them in the kitchen. “Aww, but you’re my favorite wet blanket!” she said, pinching his cheek. “Does that make you feel better?”

“No,” Monty replied, turning slightly red. Ginny sniggered, and Monty turned redder.

“How was work, James?” Lily asked, as she relented and left her son alone.

James sprang to his feet. “Work was work, he said dismissively. “But you’re just in time, Evans!” He swooped in for a quick kiss on her cheek (to which she giggled like a schoolgirl), then turned to the fruitcake, rolling up his sleeves. “Time for the Fruitcake Game to commence!”

Just as he pointed his wand at the fruitcake, however, Lily plucked it out of his hand. “I’m afraid there will be no freezing of fruitcakes, boys, or any Fruitcake Games at all this year.”

“Huh?” Harry said.

“I…” Lily looked slightly nervous, then continued, “I invited Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley for dinner. Tonight.”

James stared at her blankly. “You did what?”

“But, they said no, right?” Harry asked.

Lily seemed to gather her strength. She straightened. “No, Harry, they said yes. And so, this fruitcake,” she said, wrapping the cake back up in its foil, “will remain untouched and undamaged until tonight, when we will all eat it. Understood?”

Ron watched as the blood slowly drained from James, Harry, and Monty’s faces. Whoa, he thought. How bad are these Muggles?

“Understood?” Lily repeated.

All three of them made affirming noises.

“Good,” she said. “Now, I want this place spotless in an hour and a half—I will not have my sister judging me for my housekeeping, whatever else she may judge me for.” She turned to Ron and Ginny. “You two are welcome to stay for dinner, of course.”

Ron briefly looked over at Harry, whose eyes were frantically telegraphing go! Run! Get out while you still can! “Umm, that’s alright,” Ron said awkwardly. “Mum wanted us home by dinner, anyway. Thanks for asking though, Mrs. Potter.”

As he and Ginny stood in front of the fireplace, getting ready to use the Floo network to get back home, Ron muttered, “I feel bad for Harry and Monty. Being stuck eating dinner with relatives that hate you had to be the worst way to spend the Monday before Christmas.”

“I’m sad to miss out, actually,” Ginny muttered back. “I think whatever happens at that table tonight is going to be far more exciting than fruitcake hockey.”

[pepis-benis]

happy new (wip) year (wednesday)

swanqueen season six au (we getting these girlies some fucking therapy and a joint)

“I- um… it’s to help me, uh, sleep,” she offered, stumbling over her words but making no move in an attempt to put out the burning joint or hide it in any way; it was too late for that. She expected a sharp remark about the so-called sheriff doing drugs, how she was supposed to be a role model. But there came no reprimand, no reminder of their son sleeping inside, no words at all. Regina simply joined Emma, leaning against the porch railing beside her and staring off into the storm brewing over the bay. As the silence between them settled, Emma brought the joint back to her mouth, taking a long drag before exhaling slowly and carefully; there was no way she was letting weed smoke blow over Regina Mills. Regina said nothing, made no acknowledgment of Emma at all.

So they stood there, watching the storm’s slow advance. The air was thick, moisture hanging heavy in the motionless night. Emma kept smoking; Regina kept standing there. It was kind of nice. The anxiety Emma had been experiencing around Regina abated, a calmness overtaking her mind. Her knees felt tingly, and her elbows did, too. She dared to break their unspoken agreement to not look at each other to find that Regina was beautiful. She knew that already, but it hit her suddenly just how beautiful she really was. Her hair had gotten longer, feathering out around her shoulders. Her face was more angular, sharper than it had been, but the softness Emma had missed was still present in her eyes, a gaze reserved for Henry, small children, and animals. And Emma. Regina had started affording her that look before everything went to Hell. Fuck, she had missed it.

“What’s so funny?” It took Emma a second to process that Regina had spoken. She blanched when she realized she’d been caught staring.

“What? Nothing,” she stammered, bringing the joint back to her mouth. She really needed to put it out, go inside and get some actual sleep, but she couldn’t be the one who broke this moment, not when Regina was standing there all beautiful, looking at her with her special eyes and an eyebrow cocked in amusement.

“Please, you’ve been side-eyeing me and grinning like an idiot for five minutes,” Regina challenged, turning to face her. A slight breeze cut off the storm through the warm night just to torment Emma by mussing dark hair across an expectant face. Her hand was up before she had command of it, shaky fingers tucking errant strands of hair behind Regina’s ear. The pads of her fingers brushed lightly against Regina’s cheek, perhaps a bit more than she had meant, but she was rewarded with a little intake of breath, then a smile. It was a small, broken smile, one that had weathered raging seas and uncounted battles, fallen to pieces but saved to be fit back together. It found hold deep in Emma’s chest, catching and pulling at something that had long been buried, pushing her heart up into her throat.

“I just missed you,” Emma finally blurted. Shame took over as the words passed her lips. She had missed Regina, but it was her own fault, unable to face the other woman until their son intervened. The amusement didn’t leave Regina’s face, the soft little smile broadening.

“You’re baked,” Regina accused. Emma spluttered.

“What? I can’t just miss you, I have to be baked to miss you? Also, who says baked anymore?”

“I say it when you’re obviously baked,” Regina shot back. “Does it really help you sleep?”

“Why, your majesty,” Emma drawled. “Surely you’re not interested in trying an illegal substance.” She grinned, feeling the giddiness and stupidity flood her in a way it hadn’t in months. Regina rolled her eyes, and it was like a lighthouse had been lit. Emma’s chest was burning hot, something she couldn’t name tickling the back of her throat, begging to come to light, to be named. She swallowed it down in favor of basking in Regina’s indignation.

“Medical cannabis has been legal in Maine since 1999,” Regina informed her. Then her head tilted, dark eyes peering into Emma’s being. “This is medicinal, right, Sheriff?”

“Of course, Madam Mayor,” Emma returned the honorific, bringing the joint back to her lips with a grin. Regina shook her head, turning back to gaze at the storm. But the smile stayed on her face, growing ever so slightly. Emma couldn’t stop smiling.

[alfredojesta]

JASON THE TOYMAKER

MANSION HEADCANONS PT. 1

This includes information about his past and present. Everything here is canon to my AU. I'll be making a second post to cover his relationships.

CW: child abuse, misogyny, gore (below the cut)

GENERAL HEADCANONS: HERE

For context, Liver's Jason is the one we use for our shared AU. I just like analysing the fuck out of him. :)

✧ Jason's room is on the third floor, end of the hall. His room is a workshop. Nothing else. His door is one of the only doors that aren't plastered with decorations. It's just plain wood.

✧ He owns a flat in the city, as well as a local toy-shop. But he takes orders from all over the world, delivering toys via his "blue door".

✧ Jason isn't the traditional proxy. He doesn't work for Slenderman, nor is he "under" him in anyway—Of course, he follows the rules of the mansion, but that's because Slender grants him residency there.

✧ Slenderman brought Jason in as a way to prevent his enemies from getting to him first. They signed a contract, moving Jason from London to Toronto where the other proxies resided.

✧ Under Slenderman's watch, Jason would practically be protected from everything. It was a golden opportunity. The contract stated that Jason would be given his own workshop at the mansion. Not only that, but his own bathroom and closet—a luxury only Jason has. Because he didn't sign the contract otherwise.

✧ (In his own words, sharing anything with the other proxies sounds disgusting. Gods forbid he would ever do that!)

✧ Jason is a soul collector, meaning he must consume souls for survival. He acquires his souls from the women he "fixes", and from Candy Pop (Jason fixes his hammer, and if he needs souls, Candy Pop is obligated to hand some to him).

✧ The only way for his toys to be given an ability, or living forms, is if they have a soul infused with it. But, not all souls can be fixed to all objects. Jason will have to make several adjustments to both the soul and its vessel before they connect.

✧ Jason is a germaphobe and refuses to get any blood on him. He's always wearing a pair of gloves. When he "kills" victims, he's really only harvesting their souls. Their embalmed corpses are then beautified for show.

✧ Because he's a soul collector, he has great intuition when it comes to reading people. It goes well with his social expertise.

✧ Jason has always been charming. Good at masking in public. He treats socialising as a game, predicting what someone will say and choosing the correct dialogue option to get his desired result. Socialising can be exhausting since he's always putting on an act. (Some might even say he's autistic...) (Because he is!)

✧ Jason is polite to the others. He remains respectful and civil, coming across as friendly to all—if not a little monotonous and bland. He's shockingly a good listener when he's not held up with orders. But, he tends to only speak up if the conversation pertains to himself.

✧ If Jason is provoked otherwise, he'll do what he can to fight back without ruining his reputation. In serious cases, he lashes out. He finds ways to get back on top, painting himself as the wronged. It always works, but certain people have learned to be suspicious of him.

✧ He speaks formally. Never swears, unless it's using the lord's name in vain. His vocabulary is large, but he doesn't speak bombastically. Jason reads a lot of books when he has the time to. He enjoys classic literature, but refuses to touch anything modern.

✧ Jason is rather awful with technology. He knows the basics (such as texting, taking photos, answering emails), but he's the type to use a real encyclopedia instead of looking something up on the internet. The transition from the Victorian Era into the 21st Century was horrid for Jason, given he was in the Under World for most its development. When he got out in the late 1900s, everything was different.

✧ His hair is naturally wavy, but he straightens it every morning. His demonic form tends to poof his hair back up, which angers him even more. Only a few people have seen Jason's demonic form. He hides it well.

✧ He loves doing his makeup and he can't live without it. He would do his nails but they're all short, chipped, or on the verge of tearing off. Jason's fashion sense is classy, though he has somewhat of a ring-master flair. He definitely wears heels. 6'3" and greedy. His femininity is something he's insecure about, but won't ever admit it.

✧ His cane was given to him by Splendorman, who believed Jason was a ringmaster like him. Jason decided to keep it because it went well with his outfit. But also... it helped him walk... He never knew how bad standing 24/7 was for him until he got that cane.

✧ Jason liked circuses because he'd see them on newspapers when he was younger. But he was never allowed to go. Nowadays, he hates clowns. He thinks they're so fucking annoying. Jason will hang himself before he has to go to another shitty circus show.

✧ Jason's flat is decorated with a patch-work aesthetic. Not out of choice, but because Mr. Glutton keeps chewing on the furniture. He also chews on Jason's clothes, which is why they have stitches and patches. Jason has tried to get Mr. Glutton to stop, but that damn snake won't listen.

✧ For Liquorice, Red Mouse, and Mr. Bunny, Jason crochets fake food for them, which he keeps in his fridge. His fridge lacks anything else. There's just lemons, sweetener, milk, and peas in the freezer. He doesn't have a spice-rack anywhere, and if he did, it'd only have table salt and sugar.

✧ Jason likes to craft furniture himself. Everything in his flat is also painted by him. The cabinets have designs on them. So do his pots and pans; dinnerware and cutlery. Jason isn't allowed to paint the ceiling, but if he lived in a house, he would.

✧ Jason is obsessed with his image to a frightening degree.

✧ Jason started off as a lonely boy with discouraging parents (abusive father, and a desperate mother). He only had Amelia, whom he clung onto. Despite Amelia being popular, she was soon isolated after becoming his friend. Jason was bullied by the others for not fitting in. He was called names, physically assaulted, and ostracised.

✧ The bruises piled up. From school and from his father, who was adamant on "toughening" him up. At the age of 10, Jason sprained his wrist. He learned how to use his left-hand in this time. Jason's father resented him for his aspirations. For his "feminine" traits, and lack of social skills. Jason bottled up his feelings, deciding it'd be better to live with them than be vulnerable.

✧ Jason was their only son, but he couldn't live up to their expectations. Jason was exposed to domestic violence between his parents, who'd often argue about him. It started to sound like it was his fault that nothing was going right for the family. And maybe it was.

✧ Jason's misogynistic ideals come from his father. He learned to internalise his teachings, even though he never liked his father. Jason is never outwardly misogynistic (in fact, he tends to speak out against sexism), but he holds the women in his life beneath him. Jason also has internalised homophobia, but that's directed toward himself.

✧ Amelia's family supported Jason when he was kicked out by his parents. He was able to rent a little flat! And after getting his shit together, he started up his business. Amelia was there to encourage him and give him anything he needed for the shop.

✧ Jason wasn't used to so much "love" and attention. There would be crowds building up on the streets of London, waiting for his shop to open. People his age wanted to be around him instead of picking on him for being weird. They'd give him their numbers, invite him to social events, actually show interest in him. Jason was bewildered, but not opposed to it in the slightest.

✧ NGL HE DEFINITELY ATTRACTED MILFS BECAUSE OF ALL THE MUMS THAT CAME IN WITH THEIR KIDS.

✧ Jason develloped issues with his image around this time, believing he had to be absolutely perfect no matter what. If he saw even the slightest flaw, it'd drive him mad. He perfected his makeup, his hair. His clothes were always ironed and fitted. He was a picky eater, only consuming what would keep him in shape. Jason's routine is rigid. He doesn't let anything disturb it.

✧ Amelia called him out several times, stating that she should be allowed to make friends if Jason's allowed to make friends. Jason has always told her that they're the only good people in the world, so it made no sense for him to go out and befriend others. Jason reassured Amelia that his loyalty is with her, and he's only putting up a good front for business.

✧ That made Amelia even angrier, because now she knew Jason was faking his personality. It drove her the wrong way, but Jason would manipulate her into thinking she's overreacting.

✧ The more people that "loved" him, the more Jason was pressured to keep that "love" on him. Over the years, the pressure became too much. He overworked himself to death. Kept himself in the workshop day and night. So focused on working, he neglected other aspects of his life (such as himself and Amelia).

✧ It was difficult to balance his work-life and his self-care, but his work-life was so much more important. Without it, he wouldn't have that attention he so desperately craved. Jason only forced himself back to his flat when he realised he had to bathe. In these moments, he'd hate himself for being occupied with his work to a point of abandoning his routine. He was still human back then.

✧ Amelia would often be with him at the workshop, but her company stopped helping. Jason's patience thinned, and he started to lash out at her if she hummed, breathed too loudly, or even moved at all. Their final argument cut Amelia from his life entirely. Jason was so disgusted with himself, but he kept thinking Amelia would come back.

✧ Weeks passed, and Amelia didn't come back. Jason couldn't focus on his work. There was that nagging voice in the back of his head that told him to go find Amelia. He couldn't ignore it. He knew he had to do something. So he crafted the music box for her. Went to her house to apologise. He looked better than he ever looked that day.

✧ Jason poured his heart out to Amelia. He told her much he missed her, and how sorry he felt for hurting her. He promised he'd never do anything like that again, reassured her that his priority will become their friendship. He held out the music box. A beautiful gift. The start of new beginnings. And Amelia refused to accept his apology—

✧ What?

✧ ...She refused? That doesn't make sense. Jason worked so hard on that. They'd been friends for so long. How could she just drop him like that? Amelia shoved the music box back into his hands, yelling at him to never show his face again. Jason couldn't believe it. Did she just forget everything Jason did for her?

✧ Jason stood at the entrance. Everything was quiet. He lost her for good.

✧ Jason went back to his workshop. Beyond stressed, malnourished, and lacking proper sleep. He was angry, too, but he wasn't sad. He couldn't be sad about it, only frustrated that Amelia would be so unreasonable.

✧ He was spiralling, so close to losing it when a little girl knocked on the shop. It snapped him back to reality. He's a famous toymaker, right! People still "love" him. That's what he worked for. He doesn't need Amelia anymore...

✧ Oh, but the shop was closed that day. The girl was on her own, and it wasn't an especially busy evening. Jason put on a friendly facade and welcomed her in, but warned her the shop was closed, and she needed to be quick.

✧ The girl took her time. It bothered Jason. It bothered him a lot. What was she doing? The girl was about eight years old. Maybe her mum or dad would come get her soon, Jason hoped. But no.

✧ She finally picked out what she wanted. The music box—No, that's not for sale. Jason took it back, telling her to find something else. But the girl insisted upon it. Jason didn't have time for any of this. He had to go back to work. She continued to bargain with him, and Jason was so close to losing his patience. That music box was for Amelia—but, why was Jason trying to save it in the first place? Amelia refused it, so he should just give it to that child, right? Gods, everything is too complicated. He's stressed out of his damn mind and nothing's going right for him anymore. And that whiny child kept on crying about wanting that stupid box—

✧ Jason couldn't think.

✧ A chord in him snapped. He became victim to his own anger. Jason killed the little girl on accident—mallet to the head. He didn't know what he did until she tumbled back. The music box broke apart as it fell from her hands.

✧ Jason dropped the mallet. There was blood splattered on his face. There was blood. On his face. Jason looked down. The child was dead.

✧ Jason knew he had to dispose of the body. Everything was at stake. He could dismember her corpse, hide it in Mr. Glutton. That'd work.

✧ But he first had to lock up the store. Cover the windows, and bring the corpse to the back. Still, he couldn't bring himself to start sawing. Jason was disgusted with his actions. He had sobbed for what seemed like hours, unable to get himself together. Even as Jason began to dismember the body, he took multiple breaks, having to calm himself down from the horrific sight. Hyperventilating and nauseous. He had no one to blame but himself.

✧ But it wasn't his fault.

✧ It was the little girl's fault. It was Amelia's fault. It was the kids at the playground. It was his mother. And it was his god damn father.

✧ When Jason finally hid the body—he didn't know how much time had passed. He looked like a mess. He wanted to throw up. He hadn't slept in days. Hadn't eaten. He didn't want to leave the workshop. Even though it smelt like rotten flesh and blood.

✧ Things got worse when a customer knocked at the door. It must have been an opening day. Jason didn't want to answer. He didn't want to do anything anymore. But it'd look suspicious if he didn't.

✧ Amelia was there. Jason said nothing, processing her appearance, wondering if she was even real. But Amelia only came to return the old gifts he gave to her. Jason thought now would be the perfect time to win her back. If he told her his pitiful story—about how he was so stressed, he took it out on a stranger—she'd feel sorry for him. She'd realise how unlike him it is, and she'd finally forgive him.

✧ That didn't happen. Instead, Amelia was scared. She asked him where the stranger was. Who was it? Where did this happen? And then Jason broke down, admitting to everything. He begged her to stay because he couldn't take it anymore. But Amelia refused. Heartbreak was quick to transform into anger.

✧ The two of them got into a small fight. It's here that Jason dies, actually! Because he's so weak, Amelia easily knocked him to the floor. Amelia didn't want Jason to live anymore. She was scared for his future. He could grow up to be someone awful. To prevent him from killing more girls, and abusing more women, Amelia sliced him down the chest with a saw.

✧ Unfortunately, he didn't die. But he was sent to the Under World—which is like a purgatory in my AU.

✧ Jason is basically cursed, in a way. He woke up in the Under World as a vengeful demon. He lived there for a couple of years before he was sent back. I say he's cursed because Jason has all the abilities he could want, but it'll never be enough. He's trapped in a cycle. He sabotages his own life by just being himself. I'd love to go more in-depth on this analysis one day, but for the sake of simplicity, this is all I'm saying here.

✧ The scar Amelia gave him never heals. Jason always has to sew it back up. No one knows he has the scar. He knows it's his only flaw and he despises it.

✧ His heart is NOT a music box. It's just rotten, like his blood! It beats quietly. Very faint unless someone goes right up to it, but he'd probably punch that someone if they tried.

(dividers by dollywons) ☆

long post! i apologise. i love him very much, and this doesn't even scratch all of him. there's still A LOT more i have to say. like a shit ton. feel free to send any questions because i love yapping!!! :D hhehehe

[bigidiotenergytm]

(Same anon who asked for the kiddo’s of Ody, Poseidon, and Zeus. /You can find my real account in the comments\ I have more questions but I’ll ask one for now.)

How does Penelope and Telemachus feel about this?

Hello, dear anon! Sky's second in command here to answer your questions :3

I'm super happy to see you're enjoying the twins AU! As for Penelope and Telemachus, they're perfectly cool with it and love the babies with all their hearts <3

Penelope helped deliver the twins (along with Artemis) and is honestly sooo proud of her hubby for this. She was pregnant once as well, so she knows exactly what to do and how to help Ody through it all. She's his rock and biggest support in life.

Telemachus also adores the twins and sees them as his brothers. Honestly, he's been all on his own throughout most of his life so when he found out he was going to become a big brother, he was beyond elated! Dude spent days just losing his mind and going wild XD

The whole family loves the babies so, so much and spoils them like crazy. They'll grow up surrounded by love and attention <333

Anyway, thank you for asking and I hope this answer was good enough XD

If you want to know more, I suggest either asking me ( @shinedoitsulikeabright ) or @axt-bs . We created this AU together so we can answer better than Sky :3

[jellynotbees]

That moment when you get so frustrated/overwhelmed you just have to go shove your face into your cat’s chest and simmer.

Edit: I now remember why I don’t use this lineart brush it makes the quality look awful omg. Quality may show up better if you click on it

[kamabokobun]

Old (and somewhat less old) doodles of the SM au protags being silly

[feathersnflowers]

Something fun and silly to motivate myself to draw