#if anyones interested i can type out some type of appreciation note if you could like bring that to recreyo

[turkeyinnovember]

can anyone that's going to anime nyc 2023 please say hello and send my appreciation to recreyo for me?

[goldenstring6123]

Zayne's thoughts: getting involved in gossip

Author's notes: Zayne's the type of guy to shut down rumors pretty quickly when you're involved.

Zayne instinctively steers away from negative gossip. Even as a prodigy, he was never once subjected to derogatory peer criticism.

He doesn't like being in the negative light as well. And as much as he understands the social culture of gossip, he doesn't care much for it—instead, gossip always comes to him through the nurses or other doctors, mainly from Yvonne or Dr. Grayson.

Shortly after establishing your relationship, some things obviously began to change.

Zayne's mannerisms at work remain the same, but he glances at his phone more often.

Other people had grown interested in the fact that they could see him smiling while looking at his phone. They'd also hear a quick and weak "Ding" from his device, which was new, considering he usually has his phone on vibrate mode.

His skipped lunches have also been reduced significantly; he occasionally is spotted in the hospital cafeteria, buying himself a light lunch or a healthy meal. He doesn't really sit with other workers, though. Turns out, he'd much rather eat alone in his office, and while he's at it, he likes to chat with you, knowing how little free time he has between work shifts.

Dr. Grayson, in particular, was very intrigued by the sudden change in his demeanor, knowing Zayne was one of the few people who was very, very disciplined. Zayne's change in habits didn't negatively impact the work environment. Still, being the curious fool that he (Dr. Grayson) is, whenever the opportunity arises, he'll sneak a glance at Zayne fiddling with his phone and chatting with that particular person.

It took no less than three days for gossip to spread. People began talking about who this particular person is: a small portion of the rumors say it's that other female prodigy doctor who started working recently, but most of the rumors say it was you because, according to Yvonne:

Childhood friends simply don't platonically hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek and the lips in the middle of the parking lot. and;

Zayne has no personal connection to a girl other than you.

Needless to say, you were also subject to the rumors, Which is why the nurses always sneak a glance your way whenever they come across you, yet none dare talk to you about the rumors.

It didn't take long to reach the chief surgeon's ears, and he did not need to lift a finger to know who was behind the rumor.

Zayne gave his poor colleague, Dr. Grayson, a piece of his mind.

"I don't appreciate my affairs being talked about. If you have anything you're curious about, you can ask me directly, Dr. Grayson." And although it was for a very brief conversation, Grayson swears he could feel the room literally going cold.

In less than a week, people have stopped talking and diverted their attention elsewhere— out of the safety of their lives...or the safety of Dr. Grayson.

Author footnotes: If anyone has come close to feeling zayne's wrath, its not you— it's Dr. Grayson. Also, I'm not liking this layout, I might change it soon

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by cafekitsune

[illubean]

chrollo and kurapika (separate) with a reader who’s an artist and have a sketchbook that’s full with drawings of them<3

Chrollo and Kurapika With Artist!Reader

Characters: Kurapika Kurta, Chrollo Lucilfer Type: Fluff, Headcanons, Gn!reader

my wifi is down until monday so i gotta write from my phone 😔 also kinda short sry >_<

Warnings: None

Kurapika Kurta

when he first sees you with the sketchbook he keeps note of the fact you like to draw

he likes to pay attention to your interests, maybe he could gift you some new pencils or something at some point

he won't pressure you to show him whats in it but he'll get curious eventually and ask

if you show him the drawings willingly and proudly he's going to be extremely flustered

you drew him? on your own will?? and you're proud of it!????!!?

he's bright red and stammers out a compliment on your skills

if you happen to leave your sketchbook open somewhere where he can see it?

he feels a little bad for looking and invading your privacy

but he just cant help it, it's sitting right there

after seeing the first 2 drawings of himself he cant help but flip through it

surprise surprise, there's more

eventually he gets embarrassed and shuts the sketchbook

he wouldn't bring it up to you he's just too flustered about it

he really does appreciate it though

he didn't think anyone would care that much about him to turn him into their muse :(

Chrollo Lucilfer

oh boy

i think him finding out you have a sketchbook full of him would just inflate his ego

he's so smug about it

he probably caught you in the act, sneaking up behind you and peeking over your shoulder

"if you needed a model you should've just asked"

he asks to see all of the drawings and offers to pose for you the next time you decide to draw him

while flipping through the pages he lets out a laugh of endearment

he thinks you're just the cutest thing ever, doting on him like that

he would steal you the finest art supplies he can get his hands on

probably offered to be a nude model for you a few times 😭

let's pretend he has a house or you guys live together

if you give him any of your artworks he would def frame them and put them up around the house

he enjoys art and believes your talent should be showcased

[purple-plum-petals]

⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮        Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail)        Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending.        Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship        Word Count: ~2500 words       Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”        Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)             Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.

Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.

Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.

Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.

Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, ��Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”

Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”

“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.

Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”

Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”

He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”

Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”

He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”

The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”

Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”

Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”

Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”

You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”

Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”

“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”

“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”

“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”

Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”

Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”

“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”

“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.

He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”

“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”

“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”

“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”

The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”

[freemansgirl]

Loved the jock Amber, how about her with a nerd reader?

aww thank you, that means a lot to me! ofc, i can do jock!ambs x nerd!reader, love the brains x brawns duo we got going on here💁🏿‍♀️ pls lmk if you like this, anon ☺️

jock!amber x nerd!reader

SFW

* when first seeing amber, you found her really attractive, even if a jock wasn’t the typical person you go for based off the rumors you hear of them or how they are portrayed in media. what started off as a small, innocent class crush turned into a very, serious crush. you always wanted to talk to her, but she was someone that had a very hard exterior to her. she could be bitchy to other classmates and always had a resting bitch face. as intimidating as she was, she found herself taking in interest in you.

* most of her teammates in the locker room would encourage amber to get with popular “hot” girls or a girl with a status to her. just the typical locker room talk but she ignored them of course. “what about that liv girl, isn’t she hot to you?” “i appreciate the suggestion but i got my eyes on someone else.”

* she always sneaks little glances at you during class, admiring how cute you look. you looked so pretty when concentrating on the class subject. she admired how smart you were too, you always had the answers to every question the teacher asked.

* she took notice of you in class when the teacher suggested a group assignment. it was the perfect opportunity for her to talk to you. amber picked you as her partner. not only were you just smart and well-spoken, but you were beautiful and kept to yourself. more things that she liked about you.

* you felt nervous because you always caught her checking you out with her rbf so the fact she picked you caught you off guard. however, amber was… surprisingly level-headed and nice, not the typical airhead, loud, and mean jock stereotype.

* the two of you exchanged numbers and always would try to make time to study after school to prepare for the group project. usually, amber would never really take time off of football practice for anyone, because she was someone who took sports seriously, but for you, she did. amber helps with grabbing whatever books you needed and would assist w the work for the group project.

* when it came to you two being group partners, amber wanted to get closer so she’d invite you over at her place.

* when she learned about your interests, she found them really cool actually. she liked hearing you ramble and get so passionate, she finds it adorable. there wasn’t any judgment whatsoever. she liked that your interests weren’t like the stereotypical, average person’s interests.

* “amber? are you there? am i boring you with my constant talking about my interests? i know they’re a bit… “nerdy” and all.” what? no. of course not, i love hearing you talk about these things.” she thinks you are the cutest nerd she has ever seen. if anything, you’re her cute nerd🤷🏿‍♀️.(she cant rlly judge you anyway considering she is a big fan for stab. shes just as much of a nerd as you.)

* when seeing you write notes for anything, she compliments your handwriting

* thinks you look cute with glasses if you wear them

* she likes to get you things related to what you like. favorite book series? already checked it out at the library. favorite movie series? buys it for movie nights at her place. video games? already installed on a console. whatever it is you like, she’ll find a way to surprise you.

* she has definitely gotten you a cute oversized onesie of a fictional character you love before, thinks you look so cute walking around her room in it.

* loves to take off and manage her time for you. if you need help w something, she is always there for you especially w studying. she also likes to go to you for any type of tutoring.

*walks you to all of your classes, hand in hand with a lot of pride in her face because she adores having you!!

* takes you home if no one can after you spend a long time studying a library or from some type of club. she doesn’t want you to walk alone hurt and unsafe.

* she likes to invite you to her football practices and to football games because she feels like seeing you support her gives her motivation to win the games.

* she always gives you one of her jackets or a hoodie of hers to provide you some sort of comfort.

* if any of her friends try to tease amber about how she has the hots for you (because usually she’s not the corny type but with you she is), she’ll lightly throw a football at them to shut them up.

* if anyone talks badly or inappropriately about you in the locker room, she’ll literally go off on them and find a way to punish them as a football captain. she’ll probably make them do hella pushups with her foot on their back or make them run around the gym a lot of times.

NSFW

* sapiosexual for sureee, i think she’d get very turned on by how smart you are. i mean how can she not be in a nerd x jock dynamic?

* so unlike the stereotypical pushy, overly sexual jock, who try to make their girlfriends give it up to them… amber is actually very gentle with you. she’d never push or force herself onto you. she’s patient and willing to wait for when you’re comfortable with her.

* likes to fuck you with her jersey on, it gives her the biggest ego boost honestly. also she likes fucking you with glasses on bc you know… glasses are sexy🤭

* during study sessions at the library, if amber is in one of her horny moods, she’d try to persuade you to go the bathroom w her and just give her a quickie. or just go there for horny moods in general

* for any shy ppl reading this, amber would love if youre shy and quiet in bed. it’s just a turn on for her and it makes her wanna fuck you even more just to draw more moans from you.

* after she wins a game, fucking you is one of her favorite ways to celebrate

* if you’re trying to study or just simply doing work at a library, amber would definitely use a sex toy vibrator on you to tease you. the more she can switch the settings, the better :)

* after a long aggravating football practice of someone pissing her off, she’d had sex too to just blow her steam. it can be at the locker rooms or at her place tbh.

* gym bathroom sex happens after you watch her work out and you get sooo turned on by how she works on her muscles. “i see you checking me out, (your name). if you want something from me, do be afraid to say what it is you want.” the something meaning sex

* shower sex

* likes to probably eat you out while you’re watching like a favorite movie of yours just to tease and to make enjoying fave movie even more fun ;)

[gh0stly-pages]

Out of Our Minds (Part Three)

Ledger! Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: swearing, mentions of violence

Words: 4.1k

Chapter Summary: The third session with the Joker, and as you try and delve into the man he is, you can't help the connection you feel. Seems he might feel it too...

previous part: part 2 | next part: part 4

Notes: Hello everyone! Apologies for the wait, took a bit longer because of Halloween, was having too much fun to write. But here we are! This series is def picking up the pace now and soon we will dive into some real chaos lol. Please enjoy :) (I love inputting bits of Arkham dialogue in these because i can >:) )

_____________________________________________

On your way to work, it seems Gotham is in shambles. 

There seems to be some type of announcement going on, by someone from the GPD. You could care less, honestly, especially since you need to get to work before you’re late, but what piques your interest is the crowds of people. There is an obvious rift amongst them. Some of them hold signs displaying the infamous bat symbol, crying out in favor for Batman, it seems, some holding children at their hip who cry for the man they’ve lost. The other half push back against the pro-Batman crowd, yelling things like ‘murderer’ and ‘fraud’. The tension is so thick you can taste it. These people might tear each other apart.

Oh, if only Joker were here to see this. He’d never shut up.

A woman bumps into you, clutching a sign with that bat symbol painted on it, with words beneath it reading ‘come back’. You sneer, and she retreats back to her other Batman groupies. How could anyone get so worked up over a man in a mask? Take the mask off and we’re all messed up inside. Batman had worn the mask of a hero, parading around as Gotham’s salvation, and yet he killed people just like his enemies had. Like Joker had. Except Joker didn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t. 

Mr. Dale may be right about keeping all this from Joker, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. He’s going to get out eventually and see all this mess. They can’t hide it from him forever. Even if he’s on house arrest for the rest of his damn life, he’s the Joker, and they won’t be able to stop him. They’re just scared. Scared that the Joker may have won. 

You walk through the city, broken into chaos, all the way to Arkham.

———————————————

This time when you enter Joker’s little conference room, he lacks his usual straitjacket, and you’re both surprised and relieved that your bosses actually listened to you. His asylum garb has been replaced with the usual Arkham patient outfit, an orange baggy shirt with matching orange pants. Immediately, as ashamed as you are, your eyes go to his arms, which are surprisingly lean and toned, probably from numerous fights. You trace his arms down to his hands, each of which have a separate handcuff linked to a man made circle jutting from the table. You look at every crinkle, every callus, every line. Human hands. Dangerous hands.

“Uh, doll, my eyes are up here, ya know.”

Shit. You look up into his eyes as you take your seat, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m… sorry, I was just-“ You try to search for an excuse, but it’s clear from the teasing look Joker gives you that he’s not looking for one. You flush. “I’m surprised they let you out of the jacket.” I’m surprised your hands are so normal. 

“Well, it certainly wasn’t from my good behavior,” he clucks, his tongue hitting the top of his mouth. “Did you ask them to get rid of it?”

You can’t tell if he’s angry or not. “I did.”

He breaks into his signature, manic grin. Not angry. Good. “I knew I liked you, doll.”

Joker doesn’t say ‘thank you’ or ‘I appreciate it’ but somehow, this is better. It’s probably as close as you’ll get to hearing those words from him and it ignites something in you. You feel proud of yourself. Proud that he’s proud of you. Before you can return his smile, you remember ‘hey, wait a fucking second, this is my patient The Joker we’re talking about here’. You settle for a small smile. Be professional. “Mr. J, I wanna start this session off by just saying I think we’re making some good progress-“

“Doctor y/n, you seem to have quite the fascination with my hands,” Joker interrupts, a giggle rising in his throat. 

Dammit. Were you looking at his hands again? You didn’t even fucking notice. You’re not trying to. You’re probably just a little shocked. Again, it’s like pulling back the curtain, getting a glimpse at the man behind the act. And there he sits, with such human looking hands. “Excuse me, I’m just…” You search for the words. “I’m not used to seeing you without being all wrapped in a jacket.”

“Well, ah, they’re just hands. Did ya think I’d have talons?”

“Maybe. Or maybe, like, robotic hands. Rocket launchers for hands. Something cooler.” Are you teasing him? Your patient? You might be teasing him, just a little.

At your teasing, his smile shifts sideways into a smirk, eyes thinning. “Cooler? What’s cool is, ah, what these hands have done. They’ve been the cause of the end of so many lives.” He tries to lace his hands together, but the handcuffs keep his arms too far apart, so his fingers touch only slightly. “Now, ah, where were we?”

You stumble to find the words. So much for professionalism. “R-right, sorry. I think we’re making real progress here. Yesterday was a good session, and I’m hoping today will follow suit.” You bring out your clipboard. Click your pen open. “Now, why don’t we pick up where we left off? We were analyzing your crimes-“

“Spectacles.”

“Whatever you wanna call em’. Now those are only one part of the man you call the Joker-“

“That is, ah, my name, doll face.”

You hold your hand up. “Let me finish. We haven’t talked about you. About this person you present as the Joker. And yes,” you say roughly, before he can cut you off again, “I know you say that you and this character you present are one in the same, but nobody is exactly the person they put out. I mean, you did say we all hide behind a facade. So, let’s talk about Joker, the one we see on TV getting the best of Batman.” You scribble a little picture of him, smiling wide and in his signature purple suit. Jutting your chin, you gestured for him to look at it. “This will be the outside Joker…” You do another little doodle, one of Joker without his makeup and in the Arkham garb. “And this will be the you in here.”

The Joker looks down at your drawings and bites the inside of his cheek. “Not much of a difference, doll face, except that I look even crappier in here.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you proud of the person that Gotham has come to know?”

“Define proud.”

“Do you feel a sense of satisfaction over the person you allow Gotham to see? This crazy clown figure?”

Joker tilts his head back, thinking, and you can’t help but stare intensely at his neck, tracing down his throat to his Adam’s apple, which moves as he swallows. Geez, what is up with you and the staring today? Luckily, he doesn’t think for long, tilting his head back down to look at you. “I’m just fine with whatever I showed to Gotham. And I don’t regret-tah one bit of it.” Looking all smug, he smirks. “I’m not proud of who I am, I relish it. Bask in it. The Clown Prince of Crime, they call me! Nothin’ better than that, doll. Means I’ve made a difference.”

“You’ve certainly made an impact, Mr. J. For better or for worse.”

“And whaddya get out of all that, doll? That I’m some kind of egotistical maniac?”

“Let me do the analyzing, please, Mr. J.”

He grunts. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, and you can’t help but smile. “You say you’re proud, but clearly it’s not enough,” you tell him, scribbling notes underneath the doodle of him. “When you get out of here, you’d like to go back to all that, wouldn’t you? Go back to testing the B-Man?”

“Batsy and I just fit so well together, dolly. We’re meant to chase one another to the end of our days!”

If you can find him. “All the stuff you pulled then, did it really amount to anything if you want more?”

“Oh, doll, it’s not that I want more. I’m not just some kinda freak gettin’ a good fix when I cause havoc. My point just keeps needing to be made!” He winks at you. “Course, I know that if I get out of here I’ll have to behave.”

You seriously doubt Joker even knows the concept of behaving. “B-Man would just get you again, would he not?”

Joker cackles. He laughs at everything but you’re always confused when he laughs at something you don’t find remotely humorous. “That’s the fun part! He and I, we’re like a cat and mouse, like in those old cartoons. We’re just chasing each other in damn circles and, ah, the fun doesn’t-tah stop until one of us falls.” With a cruel smile, he flicks his fingers, as if toppling something over. “And I don’t intend to be the first to fall.”

“And after B-Man falls?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose. Doesn’t sound very fun. Why, you got a soft spot for the Bat?”

“For Batsy?” Technically, you’re not supposed to be very vocal in your own opinions, especially when they do nothing to help, but wouldn’t it be good for Joker to know you’re with him on some things? Not that Joker has too much disdain in Batman, he clearly loves to mess with him, but obviously the two are on very different sides. You want to show Joker you stand with him. “Absolutely not. The Bat hasn’t done anything to benefit me. If anything I feel more… useless. This man in a mask gets to go around fighting criminals and gets praised and here I am busting my butt everyday and what do I get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You clap a hand over your mouth. Way to go overboard. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

The Joker, of course, doesn’t care that you rambled on. He looks amused. No, not just amused, he looks pleased. His whole face contorts into an evil grin. “Well well well, doll face, nowwww we’re talking. Why didn’t you tell me you loathed the Batman so much?”

“Didn’t think it important.”

“Well, ah, I find it important. Looks like we wanna both go after the Batman, don’t we?”

“Go after him?” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Obviously I’m not going to do that.”

He scooches forward. “But you’d like to. Come on, doll, given the chance, wouldn’t you wanna, ah, take the Bat down?”

For some reason, you actually think about it. If you really did have the chance, would you want to bring down the Bat? He was already down now, obviously, but if you had had the chance before then, would you have taken B-Man down? Before you can even dive into it, you snap yourself out of it. Why would you even care to do all that in the first place? Imagine you, beating up Batman? You’re not crazy. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Joker shrugs. “That isn’t a no.”

Things are going far from where you need them to be. “Let’s take this conversation back to you, Mr. J. How about we talk about the Joker in here? Nothing left for you to do except sit and think. You’re not out causing havoc, you’ve been stripped of your weapons and your makeup, what do you feel about yourself now?”

Already, you can tell the Joker isn’t too fond of the question. He squirms uncomfortably in his chair, muttering things under his breath that all sound nonsensical to you. For some reason, you kinda like it. It’s about time you get under his skin too.  “I feel like I wanna hurt someone,” he answers, clenching his fists. “I just wanna get out there and get back to everything.”

“Okay… see, you’re angry at being in here, and you don’t know how to handle your emotions so you’re resorting to violence.” As much as that’s probably true, you’re almost sure that if you were stuck in Arkham, you’d wanna hurt a few people too but that won’t help.

“Violence solves a lot more problems than ya think.”

“Not mental ones. I think I’m seeing what’s going on here, Mr. J.”

Joker taps on the table, a random pattern of noise. “And that is?”

You point with your pen between the two Joker sketches. “Both these people have unresolved problems, problems coped with by violence. Plenty of people do this, but they don’t go around trying to make their points to the whole damn city. These huge acts of violence are outcries and you don’t even realize it. You have no one to turn to to sort your feelings out with and this is what the outcome is.” You look back up at him, and it’s clear he’s confused. “I told you at our last session, you need company. Someone you can relate to, empathize with, talk through these feelings with.”

He frowns. “And what about you, huh? You’re, ah, just as alone as me, not a soul to talk to, and yet you’re not blowing up hospitals.”

Will he ever quit trying to analyze you? “I have other means of coping, Mr. J. Whatever happened to you… it made you hurt. And this hurt, it turned you away from people, even though we need companionship. We seek attention and validation and yet I fear you’re seeking it in all the wrong ways.”

“Who says we need companionship?”

“Human nature. Our hearts. Your mental state,” you say harshly.

His tongue pushes out his scar as he licks the inside of his cheek. “Feistyyy. I like it when you’re all, ah, riled up.”

Joker was really pushing your buttons now, and it was worse that no matter how upset you got at him, he’d find some kind of enjoyment in it. You really couldn’t win some of the battles he put you up against. Yet, the purr in his voice made your cheeks heat. You could never tell when to be angered or enamored. “I really do think that whatever happened in your childhood resulted in your detachment from emotion, and a distrust in people, and this mix of the two… well, it hasn’t been the best for you.”

“So, whaddya suggest? I go mingle with some of the other Arkham patients? Spend some quality time together finger painting and singing Christmas carols?” His laugh comes out as a sharp exhale. “I don’t think friendship is gonna fix me, doll.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest any of that,” you assert. “I just think that isolating ourselves from not just people but also feelings, now that doesn’t get us anywhere good.”

“Clearly,” he giggles, lifting up his cuffed wrists. “But I’ve been doing just fine, doll, aside from this little incident of being locked up in here.”

It was like the Joker just considered Arkham some bump in the road before he could continue his anarchy. That wasn’t good. He couldn’t have his heart set on going back to taking down Batman, no matter how good his reason. Especially considering, well, Batman was nowhere to be seen. Gosh, you wish you could just tell him. Maybe he wouldn’t see it as motivation, maybe it would shut down all his ideas. There was just far too much risk with everything. Say something, say nothing. The Joker was a lot of uncertainties. “But you shouldn’t have to be locked up in here. You don’t have to be if you just try and listen to me. I really want you to get better.”

“I don’t need to get better,” he growls. “The way other people feel, it’s just a soft spot for others to exploit. I’m already winning because nobody has anything on me. Chaos stirs something inside me, isn’t that enough?”

“No, Mr. J, you need more than that,” you plead. Why is he so stubborn? “Just a little company can do wonders. Just some faith in someone.”

“So they can do what? Push me down on my knees like some kind of sinner, making me beg for forgiveness? Making me change my ways? You really are crazy if you believe that.”

Joker is impossible, really. You don’t know how else to get your message across, how to make him listen. So instead, you think back on your deal, take a deep breath, and give him a story.

“When I was ten years old, the kids at school all decided they hated me so much that they all pretended I didn’t exist. I’d try and approach people and… and they never even acknowledged me. It followed me all throughout the rest of my school years.” You mess with your coat, fidgeting with the buttons, not quite able to meet Joker’s gaze. “I know how it feels when people hurt you.”

You wait, wondering if the Joker will give you a story back. You’re surprised when he opens his mouth to speak. “Once, ah, when I was just starting out, one of the criminals I hired managed to sneak up on me, knocked me to the floor real good. Kept babblin’ on about how I was a freak, how I’d never amount to anything, the heel of his boot digging into my back.” He stops, taking a deep breath, and you wonder for a moment if he’s going to stop all together but he continues. “Course, with all his ramblin’, he failed to notice me grabbing a blade. I stabbed him right in the foot, and oh boy, did he scream. I gave him the nastiest beating of his life, I’m sure. Blood all over the floor. And right before I was done, I made sure to give him and I matching smiles. Die with a smile, no?” Joker holds his chin up. “I don’t need people. People don’t care.”

It’s only a single story yet you realize the Joker has so much behind him. So many incidents that seemed to have fueled the thunderous rage beneath his skin. This man, finding humor in the wickedness of the world, wanting to show that everyone is essentially just as rotten as he, has been torn apart over and over again. Society had crushed the both of you yet here you sat, a doctor, and there he sat before you, a madman. In your anger towards the world, you had sought to try and help it, and in his anger, he wanted to burn it all down. You still had hope left in people, he had let that all die away.

He said people didn’t care, but you cared. This was more than just a way towards a paycheck, you really did want to help him. That’s what you’d always wanted for every Arkham patient. Yet the others did not quite distrust people as much as Joker did. Joker didn’t have anyone for him. How was it that Batman, a murderer playing superhero, still had half the city on his side and yet everyone just wanted Joker to rot away in here? You think about yourself, and how much better you would feel if you did have someone, if you had been given love and support along your miserable journey. If you could give Joker the support you’d always wanted, well, maybe that would change something in him.

“We’re both pretty messed up, huh?” you finally say, deciding not to comment on anything specifically about Joker’s anecdote. No need to keep talking about something so horrific. Joker didn’t need that. He needed comfort. 

Joker blows air from his nose, smiling softly. “We are, aren’t we? Just a buncha freaks.”

“Freaks still need to stick with other freaks.”

“And who have you got exactly, Miss l/n?”

You freeze. Nobody. Absolutely nobody. He knows it. Yet for a moment you feel… well, embarrassed. Your hand creeps to your warming face, your eyes feel suddenly watery. You don’t have your parents anymore. No old friends from school or college, not that there were many to begin with. No coworker friends, shitty bosses. All you have is yourself and you hate it. 

Joker seems to notice that his comment didn’t go down well, and he holds up his hands like he’s gesturing for you to stop, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Uh, doll, I didn’t mean to pry…”

“No, no, it’s fine…” You quickly wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Just wasn’t expecting the question, I guess.”

“Right,” he mumbles. “It wasn’t, uh, meant to be an insult.”

You let your eyes flutter close for a second and take a nice, long breath in. When your eyes open again, you straighten yourself out, contemplating your next words. “I know how it feels to be alone, Mr. J. More than anything.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, your fingers drifting towards his own, which are splayed out on the table. He sits up very still, unmoving save for a twitch in his jaw, as he watches you place your hand on top of his. You’re not sure what you’re doing, but you need your point made. “I… I know how much you think you don’t need people, but people offer support and guidance, and if I could have some of that right now, for fucks sake, I would.” You sigh. “I don’t have a lot of friends.”

Joker’s tongue slowly traces along his chapped lips. You wish you knew what he was thinking. You hated how well he read you and you could hardly get anything on him. Finally, he speaks. “Well, you got one now.”

The Joker, a friend. It sounds like the stupidest thing in the entire world. This was someone who had hurt and killed and destroyed. Someone who was close to no one, the people around him with one purpose: to serve him. He had said how loyalty didn’t come for free, that it needed to be bought. If something so simple as loyalty was seen as a transaction to him, did he even comprehend the concept of companionship? He must have, at some point, whoever the man before the Joker was. But the person you were dealing with was not that man, you were dealing with Joker. Joker did not seem a man who connected with anyone yet he tells you how alike the two of you are, and you can’t help but believe it. Alone in the world, the two of you. Maybe he can’t yet bring himself to make a real connection with anyone but, goddammit, you wanted him to try.

Why not be alone together?

It would all be in hopes of helping him, you told yourself. Whatever relationship the two of you were forming. If he could have someone to talk to, not just in a professional sense, but someone who would really be there for him, you think that would help a lot.

That’s all this is. This is to help him.

You squeeze his hand. “I like the sound of that, Mr. J.”

—————

It started off as a joke, really. 

Joker didn’t want to be analyzed. The first night he had been brought into Arkham, he had been poked and prodded, as doctors tried to decipher what kinda pills to stuff him full of. Joker had tried to fight them off, but they had injected him with something that made him sluggish. Just a few hours later was when they had sent in all the psychiatrists to try and fix him. Joker didn’t need to be fixed. He was an agent of chaos, a force to be reckoned with, something they just couldn’t comprehend. Then you’d come along, and you were so lonely, and Joker liked toying with things that were easy to break. Except you’re nothing like the others. There’s something about you, this way that you interact with him, the way you don’t see him as some freak. When you stare at him, you don’t look at him like he’s a monster. It’s strange.

Joker doesn’t do friends. The term itself means nothing to him. It’s a meaningless word. Most words are meaningless to him, empty sayings. Yet when you look at him with those eyes, like he’s your equal rather than beneath you, Joker does feel something. Some kind of connection. He’s never thought about killing you, which says something. It’s the only way he can describe this feeling towards you, something other than the pure disdain he usually feels towards others. There is something… warm about you. Joker didn’t like it. Yet he let it happen anyways.

Long after you’re gone, when he’s strapped onto the metal slab the Arkham guards call a bed, he thinks on some of your words. You thought a companion would help him. Someone he could rely on. Someone who would truly be loyal.

He smiles wickedly to himself. You might just be right.

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey

Lmk if you'd like to be added! Hope the @'s are working lol...

[libraincarnate]

astrology notes: 7 💋

quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences. with that being said, i'm still learning along the way & i may come back to edit this post to make corrections. above all this is just for fun. lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!

♡ 6th house placements may have an interest in the human body. fascinated with the way it works and could want to learn about it. i also notice a lot of natives with 6th house/virgo placements look so good in bikinis because their bodies look so bomb and a lot of this could be due to the energy the put into their physical health such as diet & exercise.

♡ saturn/capricorn in the 7th house & capricorn venus/moon: dating or the talking stage = an interview. when dating or talking to someone with these placements, your words and actions are all being taken into an account to analyze the kind of person you are. your morals, perspectives, values, goals, achievements, your temperament, your background, how you interact with others, etc. you are interviewing for a spot in their lives but to also gain access to the parts of them they conceal from others which is no small thing because they don’t let just anyone into their lives. it’s not easy to get close to them.

scorpios are known for putting you through tests to see if you’re worthy, well caps put you through a series of interviews. and if you don’t meet their standards? ✌️

♡ cancer mercury: these people are such good listeners. they care about what you say, how you say it, and how you feel. these people can make you feel heard, make you feel that your thoughts & feelings are validated. patient when communicating. they refrain from judging and you may feel comfortable being vulnerable with them, a space that welcomes vulnerability. they remind me of this Bible verse: (proverbs 16:24) “pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the bones.” they’re loyal & supportive friends that have your back. also the types to hype you up like libra & leo. if you know people with these placements appreciate them & be nice to them. or else 👹🔪😌.

♡ libra mercury friends just get each other. they just click. if there are 2 people with libra mercury in a group of friends, they’re probably the closest to each other out of everyone else in the group.

♡ saturn retrograde natives: responsibility may feel overwhelming because you feel like you’re the only one who can help yourself and handling everything on your own is taxing. you didn’t really receive the help and support you needed from others, maybe your parents, so you had no choice but to do it yourself. you’re accustomed to doing things yourself so asking for help seems foreign. incompetence frustrates you, there’s no time for that. if you don’t know how to do something or you don’t understand it you can get frustrated with yourself. this native may be regretful, an “i should’ve known/done better” type of person, even about little things.

since raising children is such a massive responsibility, i feel like this is another placement that may not want to have kids. they barely had time to be kids themselves. here’s an extra heart for you guys ♥︎.

♡ gemini rising = being your own bestie.

♡ want to have one of those conversations where you could just talk about “life”? find an:

aquarius/uranus dom- immediately their personality and way of thinking stands out. i feel like leo’s creativity is usually more in the realm of arts/music/acting but for aquarius they’re creative in the way of literally inventing something new or simply bringing something to this world that improves it, forces progression, or it’s something the world has never seen before such as the level of one’s skill, ability, talent, intelligence, etc. imagine the conversations you can have with someone with a mind such as that. these folks will be themselves, they don’t pretend to be somebody else so there’s no sugarcoating their personality. they’re authentic & what you seee is what yoy get.

they don’t believe in limitation and that may be one of the reasons why they achieve such great things. they do what they want & do it themselves. they may have many friends because they’re an air sign, they’re social and like to interact with others & it rules the 11th house associated with friendship. however there are few people who are really close to them. interesting but cool  & nice individuals who you can sit under the stars with and talk about whatever the hell is out there. politics, the way different countries are goverened, society and its current trajectory or future. they might be interested in sci-fi, dystopian type books.

scorpio/pluto/8th house dom- they naturally gravitate towards what most people consider dark and taboo. there’s an interest that draws them in and they eventually gain knowledge in these areas. the supernatural, sex, death, what’s on the other side, the occult, fears & deepest darkest secrets. but they’ve also had experience with these things in their lives. probably seen some eerie/frightening stuff. psychology is also something that interests them and scorpio is one of the signs that can see right through you. picking up on the slightest details about a person, anything that may reveal something about you but there’s a lot you don’t know about them. they privately go through things that change them as a person so it’s hard to know them. & because they’re private they may only discuss the dark and taboo subjects with people they trust especially since a lot of people may not feel comfortable with such topics.

sag/9th house dom- associated with knowledge & expansion, how could a conversation with these individuals not be intriguing. they can’t help but reflect on life. the why’s, the what’s, the how’s. hunting the truth, meaning, purpose, and reason. they travel a lot so they have seen many things. an interest in the different cultures around the world, what bonds & keeps a group of people together. their traditions, religions, what forms their identity, & their way of life. intelligent individuals who probably enojy or enjoyed school/college/university and do or did academically well. optimistic & sophisticated people who can make a difference in your life.

pisces/12th house dom- the 12th house has some similarities to the 8th house but it’s taken up a notch .. or two. it gets dark in a different way. it’s funny when people say they don’t really understand the 12th house, because same, but that’s also because it’s the house of mystery! the things that can’t be defined, that are vague, & cloudy. those are some of the things that fall in this house. the 12th house has you looking in the mirror without you even realizing it, until you do. but pisces also has that spellbinding beauty (not just physical), a sense of dreaminess, flamboyance, that you can look but can’t touch attribute. this contrast between the daunting depth and the enchantment of the 12th house/pisces only contribues to its mystique and strengthens the illusion.

with the propensity to turn to escapism, they must be imaginative. vivid and with great detail. or they’ve experience things that stretches their imagination. they drift off to the land of fantasy, somewhere opposite to reality. they just know things, can sense when something is about to happen. the traits of a prophet/prophetess. familiar with the spiritual realm, even if it’s subtle. conversation with these individuals can make you feel like you’re coming down from a trip. you ponder life on a deeper more spiritual level. you revisit your beliefs, purpose, and the way that you’re living. they dare you to alter your perspective. they inspire you & draw out your creativity and desires.

♡ chiron in the 5th house: blessed w/ musical & artistic talent. gifted in this area but may feel like those gifts are being wasted or not being used to their greatest potential.

♡ pisces/neptune is associated with drugs and certain bad habits. but if you’re also capricorn/saturn dominant or you have aspects like mars trine saturn, you may feel as though you have control over your use of drugs & alcohol, you know your limits, you’re able to take breaks, especially when necessary. bonus if these placements are in the 6th house of routine, these individuals are good at breaking and forming new habits. if a person has neptune in capricorn, they may feel like they know better than to experiment with drugs/alcohol, or at least serious drugs. if they do try it out they lowkey hate them, end up stopping, or find it illogical.

♡ mars retrograde natives: wearing or needing glasses to see better.

♡ 1st house ruler in the 2nd house, 2nd house stellium, venus in the 2nd house: mirrors were created for these individuals. they probably have a lot of mirrors in their house. they totally understand narcissus from greek mythology lol. “never pass a mirror without looking in it.” -paris hilton

if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

[vin-taege]

How It Starts, How It Ends

summary: a series of pivotal moments in your relationship with Chishiya, pre and post-Borderlands.

genre: some fluff, heavy angst, established relationship

pairing: chishiya x art student!reader

words: 3.5k

warnings: major character death, hurt no comfort, depression, possible spoilers for S2

First Meeting

"Look at this cute beetle I found."

The small insect gently crawled up your pudgy hand as you held it out. The boy in front of you didn't seem too impressed, responding with only a blank stare. You had always seen him by himself during recess and felt bad that he had to eat alone daily. The other kids were either scared of his dad or thought he was weird—but you minded no such things.

"Those carry germs. Some species of them even hiss or bite," he deadpanned.

"But not this one," you pouted, nudging your hands closer to him. "Look, I think he wants to meet you."

Truly enough, the beetle was inching its way off your fingers, seemingly heading towards the stoic boy. He glanced at it before looking back at you, then he sighed. He didn't think he could get rid of you, so he'll entertain you for now.

"I'll pet it, but I'm not gonna hold it."

"Deal!" 

The way you beamed at him made him feel weird, like something was stirring in his chest. Interesting, he noted.

"I'm ___," you smiled, watching him swipe his finger back and forth the beetle's shell.

"I'm Chishiya."

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First Date(ish)

"I'm about to implode."

Chishiya looked over your notes and let out a snort. Almost everything was highlighted and it all looked like one big splotch of spilled ink on paper. You ignored him, opting to rearrange your home-made flashcards instead. 

"Physics isn't that hard," he murmured.

"Yeah," you glared at him. "For you."

He chuckled again before getting shushed by someone sitting a shelf away from your table. This made you snicker, worry melting away for a split-second. "I don't get how you can grasp this so easily. The formulas all look the same and I don't know which one to use."

He hummed thoughtful before scooting his chair nearer you. "Just start by focusing on the question. Look at what variables they're giving you and at what's missing, then just match them up with the formula that fits."

"I know~ but—" you huffed. "It's a no-formula-card type of exam."

The way you pouted at him almost looked exactly like how you did all those years ago. You were his first—only—friend, and over time, him simply tolerating you had turned into him growing fond of you.

"How many formulas have you memorized?"

"Two, almost three."

"There's six right? Almost there," he gave you a genuinely encouraging smile.

You loved Chishiya for all his snark and cleverness, but you also loved how soft and supportive he can be when it comes to it. These were small moments you held near your heart, and you doubt you'll ever let them go.

He gently took the flashcards from your hands, tapping rhem on the table to align them. He moved a little so the blank sides were facing you and peered at you over the cards. "If you can get this all down by 5 pm, I'll buy you a snack."

"I want a box of macarons."

"I'll buy you a snack that I can afford."

"Deal!"

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First Milestone

"How was your finals, doctor?"

A light blush bloomed across Chishiya's cheeks. You were a constant pillar of support for him in life, one he hadn't experienced before from anyone else. Since college had begun for the both of you, you were consistently waiting for him after every finals exam he had—a small strawberry cake roll ready in your hands as a reward for him. It became a tradition for the both of you, and even though Chishiya wasn't the best with words, you knew he was appreciative of your actions.

"I've been offered to intern," his voice was neutral, though you know he was at most pleased with himself with the way his eyes crinkled up. In his mind, however, he was more excited about the cake in his hands rather than the position.

"Holy shit?!" you wrapped your arms around his neck, careful not to squish the frosting. His breath hitched for a second, before he wrapped his free arm around you. He buried his face in your hair, lips quirking up as he shut his eyes to savor the moment. "I'm so proud of you, Chi."

The sunset was slowly trickling into the wide windows of the school hallways. Chishiya didn't expect to be in that laboratory for so long, and it was only now that he realized how long you must have waited. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you to see your face better. 

"Have you eaten yet? You might get an ulcer."

You chuckled lightly, "I've eaten lunch a few hours ago. I wanted us to have dinner together, but I've eaten some crackers while I was waiting."

"Crackers," he pressed his lips in disapproval. "Those aren't nutritious."

Lightly chuckling, you took his hand, leading him out of the building and soon, the campus. The weather was a bit chilly even though you had worn a jacket. Still, you were too stubborn to say anything. Fortunately, Chishiya read you like an open book. Without prompting, he took your hand in his.

"How was your finals? Did your prof like the color application?"

Your heart swelled up. You honestly didn't expect him to remember.

The final project your professor gave you for color theory was to pick an existing painting and evoke the opposite emotion of it by changing the colors and composition. It seemed easy enough, but it had stumped you since you wanted to pick just the perfect base.

The night you were finishing it, Chishiya stayed over at your apartment to "make sure you were eating"—an excuse for him to spend more time with you. He was adamant about getting you to sleep early for the sake of your circadian rhythm, and when he couldn't convince you, stayed up with you instead.

"He seemed to like it, thank god. The composition flowed well and he like that I used a tertiary color scheme."

"I told you the risk would pay off," he smirked.

"I know," you stuck your tongue out. "I should listen to my all-knowing boyfriend more."

Boyfriend. 

He loved it so much when you called him that. Until now he couldn't believe you were real, that what you had was real. He would give anything in the world to stay with you forever.

You passed by a ramen shop, stopping in your tracks to scan the bowls of steaming noodles in longing. You had badly wanted something to heat you up, but one glance at the prices shot down your hopes. 

"I'll treat you," he said softly. "You deserve it."

"But you're the one who got the internship," you pouted at him.

"I'll be treating myself too by buying myself good ramen," he raised an eyebrow, silently pleading that you'd just give in. "And you did treat me. You got me cake."

He raised the small box by the ribbons wrapped around it. When you stayed silent for a couple of seconds, he sighed. You were still stubborn about having to "owe" people things, especially if you felt like you "didn't earn it."

"Fine. I'll buy you ramen tonight and you can make it up to me by taking me to the cafe next week."

"Deal!" you gave in.

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First Game

Your first game in the Borderlands already had you running for your life. It was a five of clubs called Cat and Mouse. Set in a large office building, you needed to find the four mice scattered all over the place and take their tail—the twist being that the "mice" were actually people donning masks and guns. Red bandanas were attached to their belts, the tails you needed to get.

Chishiya was just behind you, heavily breathing as he slid between the winding hallways of the game arena. His hands were still in his hoodie pockets, much to your dismay. You had told him it'll slow him down, but he just shrugged you off. 

"I know where the final mouse is."

The gunshots faded as you ran farther away from the main room. The two of you teamed up with a group of three other players, and Chishiya came up with the idea to lure the third mouse so you can ambush him.

You had seen another player holding a bandana, and by Chishiya's deductions, you only had another tail left to catch. "The gunshots stopped. We know that there's two mice either dead or incapacitated. Judging by how they seem to be on defense, I think there's only one left."

"Because it would be risky for the last one to come out," you murmured moreso to yourself, completing his thoughts.

He hummed in approval. "We need to find the other players to see if we can cover ground faster. Unless..."

He halted, staring straight down the dimly-lit hallway. You nervously looked around, readying the crowbar you held tightly in case anything were to pounce on you. Chishiya. 

"Maybe we shouldn't stop in the middle of the hallway," you chided him, though he was still deep in his thoughts.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up with a realization. "Unless the mice aren't on the floors."

You're gaze trailed up to the ceiling, landing on the thin slits marked on some parts. Chishiya grinned proudly. Your intelligence has once again made him fall impossible even deeper. 

"They're in the vents," you surmised. He nodded, looking at you in awe and love—as if you were God who came down from heaven to bless him, your devout worshipper.

"We need to tell the others so we can prepare another ambush then." You had considered going back to the main hall, but the other players might have left or been dead by then.

"Don't you want to rest first?" He asked teasingly. 

You snorted. "Shuntaro, we have—" you glanced at the phone, "—five minutes left."

He hummed, feigning contemplation. That name was reserved only for serious occasions, and he knew you were getting riled up. "How about this: we tell them now, but we let them do the handiwork."

This was a side of him that you dreaded seeing. His entire "pawns go first" philosophy bothered you—in fact, you were strongly against it. You didn't like how this place brought out the worst in him, how it brought out the coldness and slyness of his heart.

Yet here you were, unable to leave him. You knew that he was only doing it to protect you. He wanted you to go back together safely as much as you did, but he did it in his own ways.

You bit your lip, voice laced with hesitation.

"Deal."

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First and Last Goodbye

The first game of the face cards round decimated what might as well be half of the players. 

During the first onslaught King of Spades, you and Chishiya got separated from Kuina, Arisu, and Usagi. The crowbar you had kept from your first game served its last purpose when you used it as a makeshift golf club to hit the grenade away from you. Just as you did, Chishiya dove and pulled you downwards with him to take cover.

You eyes were closed tightly, and the only things you could hear were the ringing in your ears and the beating of his heart. For a second, you swore you had died. Then the arms wrapped around you loosened, followed by a hand running through your hair.

"Are you okay?" Chishiya whispered. His eyebrows knit in worry. "We need to move. Now."

You nodded wordlessly. slowly and quietly rolling off him. Screams and the roar of a rifle were still audible near you, but seemingly moving in the opposite direction. He helped you up, giving you a quick scan to make sure you weren't heavily injured.

"We need to find a sparsely populated area," he spoke once he deemed the King was far enough. "Looks like he's going after large crowds."

"We can go to the edge of the city and follow the river. We're bound to hit a forest sooner or later," you suggested.

"That might take time." He looked your tired state. The bags under your eyes darkened and small scars littered all over your body. An almost empty backpack slung over your shoulder, looking almost as sad as you were.

He weighed out his options: what you suggested was the ideal choice, but you were in no condition for a long trek. Finally, he came to a decision. "But that'll work. We need to do a supply run first."

Was it risky still being in the city? Yes. Did he want you to starve? No. As a compromise, he steered clear of the shops on the main streets. Unfortunately, the smaller stores you ventured into were already looted, only expired goods left in the wreckage.

You could tell Chishiya was getting frustrated. His jaw clenched each time you failed to find food or water. His composure was starting to crack for the first time since you got here. You sidled next to him, slipping your hand into his. He relaxed a bit, though his lips were still pulled into a small grimace.

"We'll be okay," you offered him a small smile. He kissed you on the forehead, returning only a small hum in response.

After thirty more minutes of searching, the two of you finally stumbled upon a shack that had edible food. There were candies at the front, the strawberry ones catching your eye.

Grabbing a handful of them, you strode up to Chishiya. His back was turned to you, the blond busy searching through shelves of cup noodles and biscuits. You tapped him on the shoulder. 

"I got this for you," you brought up the candies like an offering. His eyes sparkled, and he couldn't help the grin that broke through his face. 

"Charming." It was supposed to be teasing, but it came out genuinely grateful. He turned the backpack he was filling up towards you so that you can drop the candies in.

He held it in place for a few seconds longer, looking at you as if he wanted something. You raised your eyebrow in question. He hesitated for a bit, before leaning forwards and connecting his lips with yours.

You reciprocated the kiss, pressing closer to him. The bag landed with a thud on the ground, him favoring pulling your waist closer instead. He was rarely the one who initiated physical affection, but it only took him a bit of prodding to follow through.

He broke away, only to look you in the eyes. "I'll take you home. I promise."

"We'll take us home," you gave him one last peck on the lips. 

For a moment, it felt normal again. It was just you and him against all odds. You were in your little bubble near the outskirts of town, safe from all the hurt.

Then the gunshots started again and they were scarily nearer this time.

Your eyes widened and Chishiya froze. You quickly picked up the bag while he slowly peered out the glass panes of the shop. The caped King was just down the road, a shotgun in his hands. He shot towards the inside of a shop, and Chishiya was certain he hit whoever his target was.

"That's not good," he muttered to himself. "___, run when I tell you to."

"I won't leave you," you snapped.

"I'll be right behind you. I promise." He gave you a reassuring look before peering out the shop window again. 

"Fucker must have tracked us." With the crowbar gone, you had only the small bomb Chishiya made for protection.

He took it out of the inside of his jacket, waiting until the King got close enough. Chishiya knew it wasn't enough to kill anyone, but it would buy you time. That's all that mattered to him.

The crunching of boots on gravel drew closer. Chishiya twisted one of the wires around his finger, ready to pull the activator. The King shot into another store, closer to the one you were in this time. He emptied the round and lowered his gun to reload. In one swift movement, Chishiya pulled on the wire and chucked it as hard as he can.

"Go!"

The two of you sprinted out the shop. The can clunked on the ground as it landed before splintering into pieces with a loud boom. Chishiya yelled after you.

"Don't look back!"

Yet you did, just in time to see the King dodge behind the doorframe. Just in time to see he had the now loaded gun pointed at Chishiya. 

In a split-second, you turned on your heel and pushed Chishiya into an alleyway, the bullet meant for him digging its way into your chest. 

The impact slammed you against the brick wall. There was ringing in your ears and your eyes were blurred by tears. When did you start crying?

Chishiya grabbed your upper body, dragging you deeper into the alley. You could see his lips moving. He was trying to tell you something but everything was so fuzzy.

With adrenaline pumping in his veins, he scooped you up, carrying you as he ran. There were footsteps following not far from him. Pushing his legs to go faster, he inched around the twisted alley, slinking in and out of connected rooms, running and running until he found a door to a semi-basement hidden behind tarps.

He forced it in with his shoulder, careful not to hit you. The room used to be for storage—construction items and dust filling the space. He slid behind a pile of wooden beams, gently setting you down. The surroundings outside settled, and he knew the gunman had lost you.

But god, the bloodbath before him was the scariest.

He'd seen this happen before. He's seen how pale a person could get after so much blood loss. He's seen how it becomes more evident with the lips, cheeks, the tips of your fingers. He's seen that faraway look, the one where he knew the person was starting to drift away.

He put both hands on your chest, putting pressure on the wound. Your blood leaked through your shirt, soaking his hands. Frantically, he took his hoodie off and pressed it against you too. 

"Don't die on me, ___. Please." He whispered, voice breaking.

His words brought you back, tearing your eyes away from the corner of cement bricks and bringing it back to his warm, brown ones. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. He's never cried before.

You tried to move your lips, only a croak escaping from your throat. "Chish..."

"Don't leave me, please. Please, ___."

A crimson puddle on the ground was growing at an alarming rate. He had no tools, no help. He was a doctor but he couldn't fucking save the only life that mattered to him. 

Shakily, he held you closer. His voice never sounded this gentle before. "Stay with me."

"C-candies. Eat well... okay?" Your voice was hoarse. The humid room felt colder now. "L-love you."

"We'll eat well together. We'll go back together, I promised you. I'll get you macarons and ramen and those paints you've always wanted, okay? Deal?" His voice was wavering. He tightened his grip on you, pressing your chest harder with his other hand. "Deal?"

You looked up at him with a sad smile. With the last bit of your strength, you brought your hand up and pressed it against his. He laced your fingers together.

"___?" He whispered, finally letting the tears fall. "Deal?" 

You didn't respond. You didn't get to hear him say he loved you too.

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First Grief

One minute.

Landing in the Borderlands. Cat and Mouse. The Beach. The face cards. Losing you.

It all happened within a minute in the real world.

Chishiya made a promise to himself while he was in the Borderlands. When the candies would run out, he'd stop fighting. When the last traces of you would leave him, he'd join you. Yet by divine intervention, they lasted enough until he beat the King of Diamonds. Long enough until Arisu and Usagi cleared the final face card. 

And now here he was. Sitting on a hospital bed, knowing that he wouldn't find you anywhere in the hospital or the Earth for that matter. 

He hadn't spoken since, only nodding or shaking his head in response to the doctor's questions. As a doctor, he'd known he would've been pissed at a patient that acted like himself. But nothing mattered anymore.

"We found you holding this. Your fist was wrapped around it pretty tightly that we thought the blood had cut off," a nurse told him. She placed a singular piece of strawberry candy on his bedside table.

He looked at it with mixed feelings of remorse and dread. He waited for the nurse to leave the room. Wordlessly, he reached over to close the curtains separating him from a patient with burn injuries. He allowed himself to break down again that day.

When his wounds had recovered enough for him to stand, he found himself sitting in the garden area. The candy was still unopened, sitting on the oak table in front of him. A part of him still hoped that you'd join him out of nowhere. That he'll hear your voice like tinkling bells calling out to him.

"I promised," he thought to himself. How was he supposed to continue everything you've built without you? How was he supposed to go home and face all the things you've left behind?

He wanted to cry again. He wanted to tear his heart out so he'd stop the hurt. He wanted you back. He'd give anything.

The small buzz of wings pricked his ears. He lifted his hand a little, discovering a tiny beetle that had landed near him. He stared at it for a few seconds before gently nudging it with his finger.

It grasped his skin, spiky limbs crawling up his hand.

"___ would've loved you," he whispered.

[wings-of-ink]

Hear ye, hear ye!

All of you who have been anxiously awaiting Chapter 4 can send a big thank you to the Microsoft mayhem that happened on Friday. Because of it, I have had two entire, unprecedented, days off of work during which all I did was write and edit chapter 4! Stuff like this never happens to me either, so I ate it up. My work computer is still super broken too, so who knows what will happen tomorrow, lol.

So, chapter 4, barring anything disastrous that I do not yet foresee – is coming very soon. Like, any day this week soon. For now, I am looking for bugs and other errors until I feel comfortable getting the update loaded. I will also be updating the warning list and some things on the itch page. I keep feeling like I'm forgetting something I wanted to do, and am having a hell of a time remembering what it was…

Anyway, if it interests you, more details below!

In going through some of the Google Error Reports, I had a couple that I either could not resolve or find.

It was reported that checking player stats in chapter 1 would not work – that it would flash only for a moment. I could not recreate this. If anyone else has seen this, please let me know.

In the end of chapter 2 where there are multiple ways to spend your time there seems to be some issues with how choices become unselectable after certain clicks and it just doesn't seem to function correctly. I have fixed the issues I have found, but could not recreate all of the instances that were reported. This section may get an overhaul in the future since I understand the coding a bit more now.

It was also reported that fonts are not changing. There is definitely a weird issue with this and it will take some time for me to sit down and hammer out. The fonts do change for me, but notably, I don't think they are switching to the correct font types. They don't even appear to be the same fonts from when I first starting this project, lol. This issue is on hold for now.

The last 2 bonus segments for the end of chapter 3 are being pushed aside for the time being. I kept finding myself feeling like I was hammering them into the chapter and it was a little exhausting. If I force it, it will be less enjoyable to read. The segments that are missing are the ones for hanging out with Zahn and Nathanael. Zahn's is easy to wiggle in elsewhere at least, but I'm not sure if Nathan's will make it in or not. We'll see, my motivation was purely for chapter 4, so now that it is ready to go, I'll have another crack at it before I drop or move them completely. They aren't super important to the story, but are just for fun (and if Oswin got his, it's only fair that Zahn gets theirs too). That last section of chapter 3 ended up way too long, so it may get adjusted later anyway.

As with any work in progress, I can't guarantee that your old saves will work. That's probably how we are going to have to roll for a bit until I really get things nice and smooth. Eventually, I will add an option to start from a later chapter and go through and make the (MANY) relevant choices to skip ahead. This may be implemented when Chapter 6 is ready to go since all the ROs will be available.

I also want to figure out how to implement named saves to make it easier for you to sort. I appreciate IFs that feature this, but I do not yet know how to do it, but I'm going to research. I like to play through with several MCs, and I'd like to offer enough info in the saves and/or Stats Menu that you can do this and easily know who you are playing as. Let me know what you would like most in the Player Stats Menu too. Note, that some options do not appear here until you choose them in the story.

Coming up…

Since Chapter 4 is down, I will soon be posting a big poll about future IFs. I've been compiling info for it here and there for a couple weeks on possible options for me to write in conjunction with God-Cursed. So, stay tuned for that in the coming days.

I will FINALLY get to my inbox in earnest as well! I will keep reaction asks paused until further notice since they take me the longest to answer. Feel free to still send in comments or quicker questions. If your question is too spoilery to answer, I will not be able to post about it.

Anyway, hope you are all doing well! I can't wait to see what you think of chapter 4. I hope you enjoy it. I'll get it out just as soon as I feel comfortable enough with it. ^_^

[commsroom]

hi! I want to make a patch for my jacket with the names of all the crew members of the first hephaestus station, and I kinda want to sort of mimic their handwriting, so do you have any headcanons for what their handwriting is like? (not only them but any of the other characters if you want— I love character's handwriting headcanons haha)

oh, that's a fun project!! i'd love to see it when you're done. and an interesting question; i cannot say i've ever thought about lovelace's crew's handwriting before, haha. you probably know more about handwriting styles than i do, but here are my ideas:

lovelace: generally legible, but not concerned about aesthetics. maybe a little slanted. mix of printing + cursive with no particular logic, just depends on her mood. has a semi-consistent signature, maybe with a bit of a flourish on the L that she thinks is fun.

lambert: even printing with frightening consistency; might as well be typed out. the only real variance in his writing is that you can tell how frustrated he is by the intensity of the lettering; he starts really gripping the pen when he gets mad. signs his initials and then writes his full name out underneath it.

selberg / hilbert: unreadable. barely even words. his written notes are indecipherable to anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't think anyone else should be reading them anyway. has one of those quick scrawl Doctor Signatures that doesn't look like his name at all. ... any of his names.

rhea: i hate to just assign her Digital Typeface, but all we really know about her is that she's professional and takes her job seriously. she gives me the sense that she'd prefer to type than write by hand, even if it was a viable option, but her handwriting would be very neat.

fisher: doesn't write much if he can help it, mostly fills out forms in big block all caps with whatever abbreviations he can get away with. definitely readable, but not exactly neat or even.

fourier: ... well. her diaries are proof she spent a lot of time writing by hand, and i would guess that's a lifelong thing for her. maybe it's just her appreciation for jane austen and similar writers, but she strikes me as the kind of person who would've gotten very, very into writing cursive. there's kind of a romantic, old-fashioned flair to even her casual note taking. definitely practiced a signature.

hui: complete opposite. he was supposed to practice, but was much more interested in other things, and his handwriting is notoriously kind of a mess. thinks much faster than he writes, and so will skip over words sometimes, etc. he also practiced a signature, but he wanted it to be abstract. hui and fourier definitely teased each other over their respective note-taking styles, especially given how often they were reading each other's notes.

i like to think maybe hui dictated his letters to his family to fourier, and she was the one who actually wrote them down - as a way to keep her close, and to give her some way that she could help him, near the end.

this is already long, but, briefly: the other three characters i have to talk about...

minkowski: incredibly neat handwriting, as a result of lots and lots of practice "standardizing" her penmanship as a child. keeps white-out on hand just in case. signs her full name in cursive.

hera: fairly neat, if sometimes shaky, and it bothers her if it looks too uniform; intentionally incorporates writing quirks that catch her eye; also a mix of printing + cursive in whatever way she thinks flows best.

eiffel: usually not unreadable, but definitely not neat. if he makes a mistake, he'll write over it to fix it and make it worse to the point it's illegible and then just leave it like that. has difficulty with writing in straight lines or even-sized lettering; it's all over the place. you know he's a doodler.

we do, in fact, have writing samples for him, courtesy of the dssppm:

... and he crosses his z's. i think that's cute.

[writerwithnofreetime]

Random Headcanons for Aokiji/Kuzan

established relationship implied?

Note: I’ve been a fan of this type of content for a while, so I wanted to try my hand at actually writing it :)! If you have any suggestions, formatting tips, or feedback pls let me know! Enjoy :)

Fluff/Sfw

Kuzan is definitely the type whose love language is lazing around together.

The two of you can often be found under the shade of a tree, a book in your hand as he naps quietly in your lap.

It's interesting. I don't see him as the type to actually be married (not in the traditional sense at least) but once he has his long-time partner, he's yours.

All that flirting he used to do with randoms is replaced with him mentioning you every five seconds lol

Kuzan: 'my s/o, my s/o, my s/o'

He doesn't strike me as the jealous type, but he will not stand for anyone blatantly hitting on you in front of him.

He won't lash out per se, just give them an icy stare

He's also not very possessive. You're your own person and free to do whatever you like.

Trying to make him jealous would be pointless. He's too easy going.

He also doesn't think anyone could take him from you tbh.

Kuzan is quite flirtatious, and I think that he would appreciate a partner who's not afraid to flirt back.

"Oi, you're a pretty one! You free tonight?" To which you respond with a forwardness he usually never receives

Oh, he's tuned IN.

I also think it would be quite funny fitting for him to end up with a s/o that completely ignores him every time he hits on them

No blushing, no reaction, just carrying on like nothing was said

He'd be determined to get you to acknowledge him

I'm going to end up making a pt 2 I have so many for him lolol

nsfw below

Nsfw(ish)

CW: Fingering, Temperature Play, Nipple play, dirty talk, Slight (very slight) sadism, use of the word 'cunt'

If you're willing, you guys would fuck the first night.

He's grown as fuck. There's no point in waiting if it's what you both want.

If you're not with it, no worries. He doesn't mind waiting.

Whenever you two end up hooking up, it will definitely be a pleasant experience.

I know everyone else hcs him as a lazy lover, but I beg to differ.

He is slow- and deliberate. Especially the first time you guys have sex

You're in very good hands. Excellent hands. Dexterous hands.

He knows how to use his fingers.

Temperature play is definitely involved. Kuzan feels it would be a waste of his devil fruit otherwise.

He's a very soft dom with a slight (and I do mean slight) torture kink. He'll coax you through everything.

He consistently talks FILTHY.

You'll be whimpering in his lap, with two fingers deep in your cunt while his other hand nips at your nipples

"Tell me, baby, does it feel good? Good enough to make you cream on my fingers?"

He's going to take his time exploring your body. Foreplay won't end until he's certain that you're ready to take his dick.

He will edge you.

Of course, he's still pretty lazy so. All his favorite positions are ones where he can hold you close, or where you do most of the work.

He loves it when you ride him.

He'll offer his support with his mouth- either kissing various parts of your body (your tits) or whispering some naughty shit in your ear.

His hands will either be at your hips helping you bounce up and down his dick, rubbing at your clit, or grabbing one of your tits.

He's a boob man.

He really likes praising you, especially for how good you are at taking all of him inside of you.

He really likes it when you moan his name (honestly, who doesnt tbh)

When Kuzan feels he's close, he'll change positions to missionary and pin you down to really dig you out

If he can help it, he's going to make sure you cum first or directly after him

When he gets close, he talks a lot less- mostly just grunts, hisses and escaped moans.

He says your name a lot.

For your guy's first encounter, he uses a condom and just finishes inside you.

After you guys have been together and have had conversation(s) about it, he goes raw

His favorite place to finish is on your torso. Of course, he loves when it gets on your boobs too.

[mimisempai]

I wasn't expecting you 3/5

Chapter Summary - Welcome, Crowley

Crowley spends his first evening at the pub with the other shopkeepers on Whickber Street, and thanks to the meddling of some of them, gets to know the bookseller better.

Notes

I'm back from my holidays and ready to continue the story of the barista and the book seller. 

As you can see, I've added one chapter to the total, because the last chapter needed to be cut.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1872 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5

Crowley took a deep breath and opened the door of the Dirty Donkey. He wasn't the shy type, but experience had taught him to be cautious, and it had been a long time since he had sought the company of others who had often disappointed him.

However, this was the first time in a long time that he'd been welcomed into a group without having to make an effort to be friendly, so he decided to give it a try.

Not to mention a bookseller who had more than piqued his interest.

When the barista entered the crowded pub, he immediately looked around for Nina or any other member of the group that was supposed to be there, and of course the first thing he noticed was the tuft of tousled pale hair.

Then his eyes were drawn to Nina waving at him, and he saw that everyone was already there. Noticing that they all had a drink in front of them, Crowley stopped at the bar to order a glass of Talisker and, glass in hand, made his way to the table.

As he approached the group, Maggie pushed herself aside to give him a seat between Aziraphale and herself. 

She pulled out a chair and patted it, saying, "Crowley, come and sit here!"

Crowley put his glass on the table and said gently, "Thanks, but you didn't have to bother."

Mrs. Sandwich, or rather Rosie as she had almost ordered him to call her, chuckled before replying, "Don't worry about it, darling. The two lovebirds are just happy to be closer."

As he sat down, he saw that Maggie and Nina did indeed look happy to be closer as they intertwined their hands. Then his eyes went around the table and he said to the group, "Hello everyone."

A concert of greetings and welcoming words answered him, making him feel more and more at ease, despite the fact that a week ago he didn't even know anyone.

When the general chatter died down, Nina raised her glass and said in a loud voice, "I'd like to propose a toast to Crowley. You know how much of a pain in the ass I can be..." she paused as there was some snickering around the table, then continued, "Yes, yes, I do, and yet Crowley rose to the challenge with flying colors, so that deserves a first round, it's on me!"

Everyone offered their own little comment, from light-hearted digs at Nina's temper to praise for his new employee's patience. Crowley listened and watched, smiling and sipping his drink, nodding from time to time.

Suddenly, Aziraphale's hand resting on his arm snapped him out of his thoughts as the bookseller leaned over and said kindly in a low voice, "They can be a little overwhelming sometimes, but they're all very nice. And I can see they appreciate you already."

Crowley nodded and replied in the same tone, "It's been a long time since I've been among such open and... welcoming people, it's a little strange..."

Aziraphale asked gently as he removed his hand from Crowley's arm, "We're all a bit special here in a way, but do you mean strange in a good way or a bad way?"

Crowley smiled sweetly and replied, "Good. I think I could get used to it."

Aziraphale clinked his glass against his and said softly, only for Crowley's ears, "I hope so. Welcome here."

Again, something passed between them, indefinable but very much there, as Crowley replied almost in a whisper, "Thank you."

Without breaking eye contact, each took a sip from his glass and smiled.

However, the moment of grace was short-lived when they were interrupted by Aziraphale's other table neighbor, Mr. Brown, who moved closer to Aziraphale and said in a loud voice for the entire table to hear, "I couldn't help but overhear part of your conversation and I couldn't agree with you more, Aziraphale, we're all a little bit special, here. But I have to say, Crowley, you are really special. I mean, that hair and especially those eyes. It's not natural, really, and-"

Aziraphale interrupted, exclaiming, "I think it's pretty!"

Crowley couldn't hold back a small gasp, which made Aziraphale realize what he'd just said. The bookseller coughed and stood up, saying, "I see everyone's glasses are empty, so the next round's on me, since my return seems to be one of the reasons for this little party. I'll order from the bar."

Before Crowley could respond, the carpet seller stood and added, "I'll help him."

Crowley watched them walk away, a little, a lot if he was honest, annoyed by Mr. Brown's kind of possessive behavior.

Then, as his gaze shifted to Aziraphale, he thought again of the bookseller's words.

"I think it's pretty!"

He'd heard a lot of things said about his distinctive amber eyes: strange, weird, freaky, fake. But to hear them described as pretty with such warmth in the voice, never.

"Awww, Crowley, your cheeks are as red as your hair!"

He couldn't help but touch his cheeks as he turned to Nina, who had just spoken when Rosie gave a thumbs up and said, "Go for it!"

Crowley muttered, "Go for it! Go for it! Looks like the other redhead here is already in the place."

Maggie, who was closest to him, heard him and said softly, "Oh, no, don't think so. You have no reason to be jealous. I'm the one who's known Aziraphale the longest, and he's never looked at anyone the way he looks at you."

Nina, Justine, Rosie, and even Mr. Arnold, the music store owner who didn't talk much, nodded in support of Maggie's words as Aziraphale and the carpet seller returned with the drinks. 

What he didn't see were the winks they all shared.

Just as Aziraphale and Mr. Brown were about to sit down, Rosie stood up and said to the rug seller, "Let's change seats, I need to talk to your neighbor and it's not easy with someone between us, sorry Justine."

Justine, who was sitting between Mr. Arnold and Rosie, shook her head and replied, "That's good, because I wanted to talk to Arthur about new carpets for the restaurant."

Crowley met Nina's gaze as she winked at him and couldn't suppress a small laugh that went unnoticed as everyone took their seats. In the space of a week, he'd come to realize that Whickber Street was full of gossip and that everyone liked to meddle in each other's lives. He didn't usually like that, but he was beginning to realize that it was more about caring than meddling, and that was new, too. People who cared about him.

The atmosphere at the table calmed down a bit as Justine engaged the grumpy Mr. Brown in a discussion about a possible sale that brought a smile back to the seller's face, Rosie struck up a conversation with the placid Mr. Arnold, and Nina and Maggie were carrying on a discussion reserved for them alone, judging by the enamored looks the two women exchanged.

Crowley took a sip of his drink and, alcohol helping, couldn't help but ask the bookseller, "Do you really think it's pretty?"

Aziraphale's gaze was incredibly gentle as he replied, "I rarely say things I don't mean. I mean, yellow is my favorite color, my car is yellow, a lot of things in my shop have that warm hue, so of course I think your eyes are pretty."

Other than a throaty thank you, Crowley found nothing to say in response to Aziraphale's disarming honesty.

After a few seconds of silence, the other man asked, "So tell me, what made you want to answer Nina's ad?"

Encouraged by the bookseller's openness, Crowley had no desire to go down the road of pretense and half-truths, and replied with equal honesty, "I have no family or ties, and I've never stayed in one place long enough to form a bond. With my looks, people don't trust me easily, and-"

Aziraphale, listening to Crowley with his chin resting on his hand, interrupted, "You could have changed your look."

Crowley, sensing no judgment in the other man's voice or expression, shook his head and said, "And not be me anymore? Impossible."

Aziraphale, obviously approving of Crowley's answer, nodded and the barista continued, "After another professional disappointment, the chance of my path brought me here, and Nina's ad came at just the right time, as I was looking to settle down for something more permanent, something that would last. And icing on the cake, I seem to be accepted for who I am here."

Aziraphale replied quietly, "I'm delighted you've decided to put your bags down here, and if I may add, there's nothing to accept, you're fine as you are. At least for me."

Crowley replied, "Thank you. If I may say so, you're very direct."

"In my family, it was better not to say what was on your mind, and now that I'm free of that, I don't want to waste any more time on hypocrisy and pretense."

Crowley replied with a broad smile, "I like that."

In their own world, the two men continued to chat, oblivious to the knowing, affectionate glances of the conspirators around the table. There was another round of drinks, this time courtesy of Crowley, and the evening was well underway when they decided to leave the Dirty Donkey.

A few more pleasantries were exchanged and then everyone headed home. Aziraphale and Crowley watched in amusement as Nina and Maggie carried a drunken Mr. Brown home, and Justine waved to them before walking away, following in Mr. Arnold's footsteps.

Crowley turned to the bookseller and they looked at each other for a few moments in silence.

"So this is love, lalala lalala... So this is what makes life divine..."

They turned to Rosie, who had just hummed past them, and she turned back, waving her hand.

"Good night, boys."

Crowley chuckled softly, "They're not very subtle."

Aziraphale replied with a chuckle, "No, but I can't blame them, can you?"

Crowley looked intently at Aziraphale in silence before replying in a clear voice, "No. Not at all."

Aziraphale held out his hand and said gently, "Well, good night, Crowley, and see you tomorrow."

Crowley took the bookseller's hand and asked, confused, "Tomorrow?"

Aziraphale's smile turned mischievous as he replied, "Well, yes, for my pastry."

"Oh, you come to Nina's every day?"

Aziraphale shook his head.

"No, but I have a reason to now. Good night, Crowley."

Crowley, once again surprised by the bookseller's straightforward attitude, replied, "Good night, Aziraphale. See you tomorrow."

Aziraphale nodded, then walked away toward the bookshop.

Crowley followed him with his eyes for a while before heading for the coffee shop. When he reached the door, he put the key in the lock and couldn't help but look back at the bookshop one last time, only to see to his surprise that the bookseller had done the same.

Crowley waved one last time before entering his building, this time without looking back. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt hope blossom within him, and he didn't stop himself from relishing it. 

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 12

Got real close to having another Junkan minus the Kan, however I did draw a silly little doodle of Mikan in the picture frame so guess what it still counts! Sorry No.7 you are still a freak of nature among the 100 days.

This is just some more of Junko crushing super hard on Mikan, so since I have no interesting details for the pic itself, time to discuss more personal behind the scenes stuff! So I’ve mentioned a few times that when I was first making these pics I was extremely paranoid about showing anyone, especially the public, these Junkan pieces. So I might as well go into more detail about what I mean when I say that. 

My fear was never fully based in stuff like “Oh people are going to think I’m weird” or “Oh I’m going to get harassed.” When it comes to how people perceive me as a person I care more about the opinion of close friends and the people I respect rather than the general public. I wouldn’t like it if everyone thought I was some weirdo, but I can live with it. I’m hopeful that when this project starts (as a reminder these posts were prepped before the the announcement went up, I have no idea how people are reacting as I type this) I won’t be harassed or threatened for this, but I feel decently confident that I will be okay in the long run. It’ll be annoying and definitely stressful but it could be worse. 

My fear at the time was based on how it could affect my career. I have for a long time set out with a goal to make art with the intention of bringing a positive vibe to peoples lives, and the main way I hope to do that is by working on a webcomic. That said if I post Junkan and it causes people to perceive me in a negative light, my art would forever have that roadblock. I’m sure I’d still have fans, but people are less likely to partake or look fondly towards something created by someone perceived as a bad person from what I can tell. There’s also the worry of how it could affect me financially but even back then I was certain that I’d be pretty safe on that front. I’m of course long over this, that was a result of my extreme paranoia from earlier in the year. I’m content with the possibility that this event could shift public perception of my work. How that happened will be brought up much later.

Have a great day!

BONUS MESSAGE FROM FUTURE JEM: Hey there! I haven't been making major additions to these pre-scheduled posts, however I just wanted to chime into say, yeah! Past Jem was way too paranoid! I admit this blog hasn't exploded enough to attract crazy attention, but I'm happy to say I've received a lot of nice comments and the like from people as it continues. We're only 12 days in out of 100 so who knows what the future might hold, but I'm real glad to have started posting now. Take that past me!

Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the tags are always appreciated!~

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 7

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Sort of suggestive at the end

Now Boarding

It took you no time at all to make it back to the treehouse. Recently, you had pictured yourself jumping for joy when you were finally going to leave this island, but now, you were just really ticked off. Whatever the lady equivalent of blue balls was, you had it. Guess I didn't realize how pent up I am. "Your fucking crew is already pissing me off, Blondie." You poked him in the center of his chest to punctuate every word. "By the way, you're getting off this shithole. Be grateful you were only here a few days instead of years." Laying the back of your hand against his neck and forehead, you thought maybe his fever had gone down. He at least wasn't sweating like he was before. 

You grabbed the stuff you wanted to bring with you, wishing you had some kind of bottoms among your things to wear. All it would take is a curious hand reaching for your shirt or a strong breeze and your business would be on full display. You strongly doubted Kid pirates were the type to keep their hands to themselves. You also strongly doubted their captain would appreciate you breaking the crews' fingers in return. Or maybe he would. After all, he seemed to enjoy your bad attitude. 

A discordant collection of voices and loud laughter signaled the return of a group of Kid pirates. Before they came to fetch their vice-captain, you made the hasty decision to pull your gun out of its parcel, along with the leather holster you custom made to fit its strange shape. You started to put it around your waist over your shirt and thought better of it, instead putting it in the same place but underneath. That way it couldn't be seen and you could get to it if you needed to. It would mean giving someone a full moon but you didn't think you would mind if the occasion called for it. 

A pirate with blue-gray dreadlocks and patchwork skin called up to you, "Captain told me to come get Killer. Can I come up?" 

A pirate who asks permission? Interesting. Poking your head out of the hatch so that your voice could be heard, "Knock yourself out." You thought about how difficult it was for Kid to get Killer up here in the first place and wondered how hard it would be to get him out. Could always break the floor to make a wider opening. Since no one is coming back. The thought made you a little sad and a touch anxious. You were stepping out of your territory and into Kid's. You made a mental note to try to behave. The less attention drawn to yourself the better. 

A soft knock against wood announced the arrival of the blue-haired pirate. He cleared his throat. "I'm Heat." He pushed himself through the hatch. 

"Okay." You gestured to where Killer was leaning against the wall. 

The pirate called Heat threw Killer over his shoulder, pausing at first when he saw Killer's face without his mask. His long blond hair obscured his face like this anyway, and it was pitch black outside with the exception of the torches the group held. He started to descend then cleared his throat again, "Captain told me to get you, too."

"Should I get on your other shoulder?" Heat offered a laugh through his nose. You continued, "I'll come down but... just don't look up." You looked away before your cheeks could get hot. Again it was dark, still you didn't need to reveal yourself...or that you were armed...to anyone right now. 

Heat nodded and slipped out of view with Killer. You took one last look around, grabbed your pack, and followed. The conversation and laughter ceased when you walked over to the group with Heat. "Let's go," he commanded. It was awkwardly quiet and you felt very out of place being at least several inches shorter with a much smaller frame than the surrounding party. You kept your eyes forward as you felt several stares here and there. 

You watched as one of the men grabbed an oddly-shaped, enticing, yellow fruit from on overhanging branch. "I would leave that," you helpfully offered. The man snorted at you and rolled his eyes before shoving the entire thing in his mouth. That was my shot at being nice. He would regret it, that you were certain of. You estimated in around three to five hours he would be experiencing some of the worst cramps of his life. Stoplight fruit was so called because if it was red, you should stop eating it and if it was green, it was safe to eat. Therefore, yellow was in-between, not deadly but not benign either. You knew of that one before ending up here. It was common on islands in the area. You swear you saw Heat stifle a laugh. He must know, too. 

The Victoria Punk was beautiful. Both because you hadn't seen a ship in years and because it simply was a beautiful ship. You didn't get a good look the first time you had encountered it. The skull figurehead was incredibly impressive in person, and huge. Illuminated by torchlight, the teeth glowed orange like molten iron. It was probably the last thing some sailors saw before getting sunk. The nostalgia of being on a ship and feeling the wind in your face pulled a smile out of your sour features. Your admiration was cut short.

"Havin second thoughts, girlie?" The voice startled you a little, not having noticed Kid get off the ship. 

"Not at all, Captain." 

"Then get yer ass on board. Heat will show ya where ya can stay."

"Not without Mini. Remember the deal?" 

Kid rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Hurry up." He wondered how long you would wait for an imaginary friend to materialize. 

You put your hands around your mouth and yelled towards the trees. "MINERVA, LET'S FUCKIN GO. LAST TIME I'M ASKIN." You would be lying to yourself if you thought you wouldn't be sad leaving her behind. She was wild, like yourself, though, and you couldn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. Nothing happened for a minute and Kid tugged the collar of your shirt like he was a millisecond away from dragging your ass. Suddenly, the sound of snapping branches accompanied by a soft rumble quickly approached, saplings being toppled closer and closer to the beach. A wall of sand and dust flew up as the beast skidded to a stop a few feet away from you. A huge, wet nose with sharp tusks poked out of the dust and snorted into your face. "I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?" As the sand settled, a massive shape with reddish-brown fur and a black stripe down the back was revealed.

Apparently, Kid was now the second largest red-head on the beach. "YER OUTTA YER FUCKIN MIND IF YA THINK THAT FOUL THING IS GETTIN ON MY SHIP." A fucking boar. A huge fucking boar. This bitch is something else. Mini turned her attention to Kid and lowered her head, giving Kid a better look at how big and how sharp the tusks growing from her snout were. 

"Package deal." You crossed your arms over your chest, staring at Kid. "And she smells better than most of your crew." Your hand rustled around in your bag before pulling out the tincture for Killer, tutting as you did so. 

Kid growled, hating that he would have to relent. He grabbed your chin and made you look up at him. In the background, Mini tensed. "One chance. Do ya hear me? One. Or we will have the finest fuckin pig roast on the entire sea." He pulled you close enough that his breath was hot on your ear, at the same time you felt cold metal tracing up the back of your thigh. "Did ya think I wouldn't notice?" He laughed and sent a shiver up your spine, maybe for the wrong reasons. The cold metal reached up the back of your shirt despite your protests and tugged your weapon from its holster. "Yer absolutely rotten." Kid stood back up to his full height and turned it over in his hand. "Cute." He added it to his bandolier. He grinned and gestured towards the ship as you stared daggers at him. 

"Fuck you," you spat in his direction as you walked past him. That was fine. You were pretty good with your own two hands when it came to defending yourself. I don't think he recognized my gun. But Killer might.

Kid gave your ass a slap as you walked by, much to the delight of his crew, who laughed and taunted from the deck of the ship. "Yer gonna," Kid promised. He decided that he would show you around instead of Heat, starting with his cabin. 

Next

[disgustlink]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanon #2

a/n: as an INTP + 5w6 i feel like i really resonate personally with how a lot of the community writes Simon! so i decided to write a headcanon about something weird i do (but could see him doing as well).

Simon definitely has a lot of notes either on the notes app that came pre-installed on his device or on something like Google Keep Notes (so he can access them across devices).

Some of his notes are practical, like special events or appointments he's got coming up. Others are song lyrics, phrases he's heard in passing, or random insightful advice he conjures up in his mind when he has time with his own thoughts.

The final important type of notes he keeps are the ones about people he's become friends/acquaintances with. It's definitely a security risk to have the personal information of the people he cares about just typed up on his personal device but he can't help it.

Simon isn't good at outwardly reflecting his appreciation for the people he cares about in his life, but he's working on it. He's a really good active listener and tries to make up for his aloofness by trying to remember everything about the people he talks to.

He may not be good at telling people he loves them or appreciates their presence in his life very often, and he may not be good at expressing those same sentiments with physical touch... but he can definitely ask about each of your pets by name if you have any.

Really, he makes a note about anything that makes someone happy. Having a rough day? Here comes Simon, silently handing you a bag that just so happens to contain that really specific order from that one place you mentioned liking a few months ago. 'How did he remember that?' you wonder. If he knows you've already eaten, he'll ask about your interests to distract you instead. You get to rant about your favorite stuff and he gets to intently listen, a perfect arrangement.

If you miraculously manage to lay an eye on some of the notes in his phone, you'll definitely notice the one about you. It's so much longer than the others. Johnny's, Gaz's, and Price's notes are long, but yours is the longest. Filled to the brim of information and every little thing you've ever mentioned about yourself.

His guilty pleasure is scrolling through the list and reading all that he's written about you. Especially after a rough day of his own... all he needs is to look at that shaky photo he took of you smiling all warm and sweet at him or the note he made.

One day while he accompanied you to some shopping, he delighted in the way your entire being lit up and seemed to fill with excitement when you pointed out the fact a song you loved was playing overhead in the store. He subtly looked up the lyrics while trailing behind you through the aisles and saved it to the note. It's memories like this that put a dopey smile on his face as he scrolls through the note whenever the desire strikes him.

If you ever ask him about why he remembers so much about you (or anyone else), he just responds with some shit like, "Guess I've just got a good memory." I also think, against popular belief, he'd be good at remembering things like anniversaries and birthdays- afterall, he saves those too.

[konfeitos]

Hi! Can I request Jacq from Pokémon SV x male reader? If you accept this request, thank you!! (^ o ^)

STAFFROOM SWEETHEARTS. — JACQ X M!READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring   :    jacq

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀synopsis   :    a budding love is blossoming between you and your fellow colleague ! 

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes   :    male reader. fluff. teacher/teacher trope. plus general thoughts. brief reference to hassel/brassius. headcanons. not proofread. hope you enjoy anon ♡ !!

When you decided to seek out a career in being an instructor, not once did you think that you would wind up with a job to teach at Mesagoza’s well-known academy. 

Clavell was more than pleased to welcome you to the faculty. You were invited to come to the academy and get familiar with the place before the new school year commenced. 

During that visit, you came across some of your new colleagues, who all happily introduced themselves and offered to show you around the academy. All of them were incredibly kind, but you found your gaze continuously gravitating towards one in particular.

The slightly disheveled, easy-going man who looked like he’d appreciate a quick nap.

 From the moment that his eyes landed on you, he smiled softly and greeted you with a cute, “Hello, hello!”

After that visit, you two started to become closer to one another. It was far too easy to fall into long conversations with him. Which only started to become a bit of a problem when you would both realize that you’re running late to your own classes. 

Speaking of your class, you teach Pokemon Handling. The ways to care for various types of Pokemon and what’s necessary to ensure they live healthy lives.

There are times where your lessons branch off to the biology aspects of these Pokemon types, which leads to you and Jacq planning lessons to do joint classes. 

It doesn’t take long for the students to pick up on how you stare at Jacq, most likely the most interested in his rambling, when he starts to get into specifics and the way that Jacq looks more energized and at peace when you’re stepping in to share your own knowledge.

This has led to these students coming up with theories about you two. A lot of speculations arise, questions going on whether you two were even interested in men. Regardless, there are those that compare the way you two are to Hassel and Brassius, which only spawns in more discussions on your guys’ relationship.

Of course, students being students, they attempt to ask in what they believe are subtle ways. Anytime Jacq asks if anyone has any questions, he’s surprised to see the amount of hands going on when he’s been accustomed to them being more prepared to leave over anything else.

There are no words to describe the shock that washed over him when the question pertained to you and whether he likes you. Of course, he’s chuckling lightly while he runs his fingers through his already messy hair as he struggles to come up with a response. 

No, he’s not surprised that his students managed to pick up on his growing feelings. They’re a smart bunch and very observant. Maybe a bit too observant for their own good.

He’ll try to direct the conversation back to the topic on hand though he does mention that he likes you very much, in a platonic sense (not that any of his students believe that part) and considers you to be a brilliant instructor.

The rumors only grow faster once that happened.

If you thought it was only your students attempting to meddle however they can then you’d be very mistaken. The other faculty start to get involved as well in their own ways.

Salvatore offers cute phrases in other languages to say, and Saguaro talks a lot about how you and Jacq should go out on a picnic and the many sandwiches you could make together. 

Once you both start dating, it’s as if everyone in the academy can tell. Many of the students are happy to see two of their favorite instructors with each other, especially when they caught on that they were crushing beforehand. The other faculty members tease you both for doing the slightest bit of affection in the lounge room.

Every time you head into the lounge room, you always have a second drink just for Jacq. And each time, he will thank you by pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

There are moments where he feels so tired but one glance at you gives him the motivation to get through the rest of the day. He greatly appreciates that you’re able to sense when his internal battery is dwindling down and welcomes the cuddles that you initiate with him. Expect to have plenty of dates that involve napping together.

You’re the one to make sure that he doesn’t drown himself in his research. Jacq has the tendency to lose track of time, unless he has something scheduled with you, so you’re often the one that your other colleagues ask to go find him to pull him out of his work.

Anytime he discovers something new, you’re the first person he turns to. You always listen to him attentively. He does the same in return whenever you get in a rambling mood, especially when you’re caring for your or his Pokemon and talk about some fun facts about little quirks or things that the Pokemon like. 

Whenever he catches you battling for any reason, whether you’re helping him with his research or you’re both simply out and about, he’s always in awe at your strength. 

The second that you turn around to return back to him, he’s staring at you with such a tender look on his face. “That’s my boyfriend!” He praises, eyes closing as he smiles at you. Your strength and Pokemon is a wonder and he will never get tired of watching you.