#ill be okay but it just feels really strange right now

[aspenmissing]

Okay okay....hear me out: Viktor without having his chronic illness. Where he can live happily with Reader 🥹

ɴᴏ ʙᴀʀʀɪᴇʀꜱ

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ? || 1353 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏᴋᴀʏ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ. ɪ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅɪᴅ ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ ᴀᴜ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ (ꜱɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀʀᴠᴇʟ "ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ", ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ. <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

The hum of the laboratory was alive with the sound of whirring machines, quiet discussions between colleagues, and the steady, rhythmic tapping of Viktor's fingers as he fine-tuned his latest creation. In this universe, the brilliant scientist seemed almost unchanged from his usual form, but there was one major difference—the perpetual signs of illness were gone. His posture was perfect, his gait steady, and the strength that had once been absent from his body now flowed effortlessly.

Y/N, on the other hand, was very much out of place. A strange shift in reality had sent her spiraling into this alternate universe, her heart racing as she looked around. Piltover was familiar, yet there was something subtly different about the way people moved and spoke. The air was crisp, and everything seemed more orderly—more perfect. But the most noticeable change was Viktor.

In this world, he wasn’t the man she had come to love, the one whose struggle against his physical limitations had drawn her in, the one who fought through the pain for the sake of progress. No, in this universe, he was whole. Healthy. Radiating an energy she wasn’t used to seeing in him.

She stood at the doorway to his lab, unsure how to even approach him, the weight of her reality crashing down on her. Was this really her Viktor? Her Viktor had always been fragile, broken, and yet, their bond had always felt stronger because of it. The sight before her was beautiful, almost cruel.

Viktor looked up from his desk, his sharp, intelligent eyes catching hers. He didn’t miss the flicker of hesitation in her gaze, nor the subtle discomfort in her stance.

"Miláčku," he said softly, setting down the device he was working on. His voice was warm, his expression filled with curiosity, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he was just as lost as she felt. "Is something wrong? You seem... distant." (Sweetheart)

Y/N swallowed, stepping into the room. "I—I'm not sure. Everything here is... different." Her voice faltered. "You’re different."

Viktor’s brow furrowed as he stood, walking toward her with a look of concern on his face. He didn’t know how to understand the weight of her words, but he could sense that she was struggling with something. A deep, emotional conflict.

"Y/N," he murmured gently, reaching for her hand. "You’ve been through a lot lately, haven't you?"

She couldn’t look him in the eyes. "In my world, you were... you were struggling. You were fighting against your body every single day, Viktor. You needed help. And I was there. I was there." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "But here, you’re... different. You don’t need me."

Viktor's heart tightened at her words. He had no idea how she had arrived in this universe, nor did he fully understand the complexity of what she was feeling. But the look on her face—raw, vulnerable—was unmistakable. This version of himself, free from his physical ailments, was not the Viktor she knew. But that didn’t mean he was any less him.

He cupped her face gently, lifting her chin so their gazes met. "Y/N, you’ve never needed to be my caretaker. That’s never been the reason I..." His voice trailed off as he searched for the right words. "I care for you. I love you—not because of my body, not because of what you can do for me, but because of who you are."

Her breath hitched. The weight of his words, the softness in his tone, it reminded her of the Viktor she knew, the Viktor she had fallen for. It didn’t matter that this version of him was healthy, vibrant even. His heart, his essence, was the same.

“I…” Y/N’s voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do with all this. I feel like I don’t belong here.”

“You belong wherever I am,” Viktor said quietly, his voice steady and filled with a certainty that made her chest tighten. “This universe may be different, but my feelings for you have not changed. I still care for you, more than you may realize.”

For the first time since arriving in this world, Y/N let herself breathe. She leaned into him, her forehead resting against his chest. The sensation of his arms wrapping around her—strong, steady, and unbroken—was comforting. It was different from what she was used to, but it wasn’t any less real.

Viktor tightened his hold on her, his fingers gently stroking her back. “We don’t need to change who we are just because of where we are, Y/N. In this universe or the other, I will always be by your side.”

Y/N closed her eyes, the fear and confusion slowly melting away, replaced by the warmth of his presence. "I’m scared, Viktor. I don’t know how to get back."

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered. “Together.”

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze again, a small, tentative smile forming on her lips. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. “I think I’m starting to understand.”

But something lingered in her heart, a wish she had carried for a long time. A wish that had once seemed impossible.

"Viktor," she said quietly, her eyes glinting with a mixture of hope and nostalgia. "Do you remember… when I used to dream of dancing with you?"

Viktor blinked, momentarily taken aback. Of course he remembered. Her words had always been filled with quiet longing, a soft desire that had never been able to fully come to life because of the limitations his illness had placed on him. The way she had looked at him, her eyes filled with a yearning to hold him close, to share something so intimate and beautiful.

He smiled gently. "I remember."

Y/N bit her lip, her hands clasping together as she nervously shifted her weight. "I always thought… when things were better, we might get the chance. But, well…" She trailed off, the reality of her current situation sinking in. "You were always too weak. And I didn’t want to force you."

Viktor’s smile softened even more. "Y/N, you never needed to force me to do anything. I always wanted to dance with you too."

Without saying another word, Viktor gently took her hands in his, guiding her toward the center of the room. There was no fanfare, no music playing in the background, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. He placed one hand on her waist and the other in her hand, his touch steady and sure.

"Shall we?" he asked softly, his eyes warm with affection.

Y/N’s heart fluttered as she stepped closer, placing her other hand on his shoulder. The dance wasn’t perfect, the steps a little unsure at first, but the rhythm of their bodies was instinctive, guided by the connection they shared. She had waited so long for this moment, and now, it was real.

For the first time, she wasn’t holding back, and neither was Viktor. His arms were strong, his body whole, and it felt like they were floating, completely in sync. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

This was everything she had ever dreamed of.

The dance continued, slow and gentle, with no words between them, just the soft whisper of their movements. In this moment, they had no need for anything else. They were together, not bound by illness or fear, but free to simply exist in each other’s arms.

When the dance finally slowed to a stop, Viktor held her close, his forehead resting against hers. "I’ve always wanted this too, Y/N," he murmured softly. "No illness. No barriers. Just you and me."

She smiled, tears welling in her eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming beauty of the moment. "And now we have it."

Viktor kissed her forehead, his lips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "Always, Y/N. In this world or any other, we will have it. Together."

And in that moment, she knew they had everything they needed—each other, in all their forms.

[wicked-west-cats]

Must be rough losing them so young huh?

shadowbelly looking at lil memorial graves of his parents ft itty bitty roachkit unaware of sad things

[jimingyue]

Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

🖋️ meowful-musings Follow

🕊️ birdwatching Follow

what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine

💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204

op wheres the natural feeding option

🌲 outdoorsy Follow

you guys are getting fed?

#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look

7,192 notes

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3

🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow

as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3

#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....

154,688 notes

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right

❤️ loving-paws284 Follow

um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...

🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow

OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD

🐟 tunafeesh Follow

also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks

anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse

#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now

32,456 notes

🍃 naturalliving Follow

BORN TO DIE

WORLD IS A FUCK

猫神 Kill Em All 1989

I am trash cat

410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS

#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly

48,971 notes

🎣 salmonpurina Follow

can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther

#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks

34 notes

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!

🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow

evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

make your own pawst

💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721

umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...

👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow

Nyaverage shelter cat behavior

#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up

545,460 notes

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo

💡 discourse-meows Follow

hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

1. i was making. a joak

2. i'm literally gay???

#literally what's your pawblem

7 notes

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

i know you fuckers are lying

🍭 gaykittens Follow

this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

shut the heull up

988,653 notes

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise

🐁 ladymouser Follow

op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us

[chuulyssa]

── ★ the one bed trope™ with the squid game men

teaser the guards cleared out too many beds after the last game, assuming there are far fewer survivors than expected. so when your group stumbles into the dormitory, you realize the horrible truth: there’s only one bed for every two players, and your bed is missing!

starring inho gihun (drabbles) & daeho sangwoo ali (hcs) x gn!reader genre fluff fluff all fluff, some nightmares, some crack

a/n wasnt gonna watch s2 but then i saw the lee byunghyun edits and sjsjs theres only few chars here because i havent watched the whole season :( i dont think ill be watching the whole thing any time soon, jus waiting for s3 to drop before watching it all together

inho / youngil / the frontman / 001

youngil stared at the guards while you stared at the bed in front of you. it looked stiff and scratchy, and barely wide enough for one person, let alone two.

“we can share. i don’t mind,” he had said to you, though he had looked tense as well. he sat on the bed, allowing you to scoot over. he laid as close to the edge of the cot as possible.

“oh, it won’t be necessary.”

“well, what other choice do you have?”

you sighed and nodded, awkwardly laying down next to him on the bed. as your shoulders touched each other, he relaxed visibly, though he was still lying on the edge, and that scared you a little.

“stop lying on the edge like that. you’ll fall off,” you warned.

“i’m fine,” he mumbled, staring right up at the ceiling. you kept looking at him, not minding the three times he had glanced your way pointedly at all. “don’t stare.”

“hm, why not?”

“it makes me feel strange,” he said simply.

you nodded, your hands instinctively reaching to your arms to shield yourself from the cold. there was only one blanket with only one bed after all. next thing you knew, you felt the blanket being nudged towards you by youngil’s foot.

“i saw that; it’s not very subtle, you know.”

“what’s not very subtle?” he asked innocently. then he shifted his body closer to yours. “it’s not because of you, okay?” he muttered quietly. “i just didn’t feel like falling off.”

“are you asking for cuddles now?” you snickered.

“no,” he replied gruffly, though his eyes softened slightly at the sound of your silent laughter.

“nuh uh, i think you’re cold as well,” you lifted the blanket up to accommodate him as well. you then glanced at him expectantly. he hesitated for a moment before slipping under the blanket, taking the moment to tightly grasp your hand. you smiled, resting your head above his shoulder on the shared pillow.

you woke up in the middle of the night to find him softly murmuring your name in his sleep. he looked peaceful, beautifully so. you brushed your hand on his chest to wrap it around him, and felt him waking up as well.

“hush, go back to sleep,” you whispered to him, and he raised an eyebrow at nothing in particular. his eyes were still closed. then he let out a tiny giggle and tightened his grip on your hands.

the guards executed this one perfectly, right as per orders from the frontman; hwang inho will make sure to reward them later, but for now he’d rather stay in this shared bed with you by his side.

seong gihun / 456

“i guess it can’t be helped then,” gihun said simply, sitting you down on his bed and pulling the covers over you. “sorry if i snore by the way.”

“what do you mean? where will you be sleeping?”

“on the floor, of course.”

“no, you’re not,” you shook your head, patting the empty space beside you. “i still have some place left here for someone.”

“oh, then let me find someone who can’t find a partn—”

you pulled the man down onto the bed, his face crashing against the pillow. throwing the covers over him as well, you turned to face him, muttering, “you really aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“no, uhm, what if i hog the blanket? that would be unpleasant—”

“i can live with that.”

gihun blinked rapidly. “i don’t think i should be sleeping. what if someone attacks?”

“relax, they’re keeping watch.”

“i think i should keep watch with them,” gihun gulped at your proximity.

“well, i don’t. and you need sleep; have you seen yourself?” you laughed.

gihun beamed at the sound. “then how about I tell you a story?”

“a story?”

“yeah, to make you happy.”

“why though?” you said tiredly.

“to make you laugh. i like seeing you laugh,” he said genuinely, and you nodded in response. his eyes lit up and he began, “so there was this one cow, and it had a baby cat—”

…

“gihun?”

he snored.

“gihun!”

he snored again.

did he really fall asleep mid-sentence? you sighed, shaking your head before snuggling up to him. he unconsciously draped an arm over you in his sleep.

throughout the night, he kept tossing and turning, before—

smack !

you clutched your face where gihun’s hand had just made contact. before letting out the loud cuss you wanted to, you peeked over to see if he was asleep. and sure enough, if the snores hadn’t let it be known earlier, then the closed eyes did.

“this dumbass,” you muttered, nuzzling your face into his side.

but what could you do either way? if you complained, he’d be mortified and force you to switch places, and you’d lose a chance to cuddle with him. so you instead figured the occasional smacking would be worth being the first person to see his hair sticking out in every direction with his sheepish grin in the morning.

a/n: i’ve only got hcs for the others; sorry guys i prefer my old men inho and gihun :P

daeho / 388

he insists on taking the less comfortable side of the bed

even if that meant he barely has any space MY GNELTMAN

at some point his hand will brush yours (because its an ff duh) and he’ll get all startled like :O

but he won’t move away because he decides he likes it

we all know the trauma this man carries :( so don’t be surprised when his grip on your hand loosens in the middle of the night and his face scrunches up because he’s having a nightmare

just please cuddle with him :(( he’ll try to play it off like it’s nothing but know better!

when you quietly offer comfort, his defenses will crumble, and he’ll whisper a quiet thank you to you

in the morning he’ll wake up before you and realize just how close the two of you are.

he’s been bearhugging you in his sleep and you’re reciprocating it? hes so confused like ??????? do you wanna get choked or sum yes you do

he’ll just quietly stare at you as if he’s in a daze. he’s got that lovesick smile and all, just silently looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen you are

he just as silently fixes the blanket on you because he wants to offer as much comfort as you did last night to him

then he’ll gently apologize to you for disturbing you, smiling to himself when you grumble in your sleep

sangwoo / 218

this little shit

he’ll pretend not to care about you or about the bed or about the entire situation at all

but you can see how he tries to be as subtle as possible when adjusting the pillow under your head to make sure you’re comfortable

you’re practically begging him to accept his feelings atp but this man is a menace

as soon as he saw the one bed he started calculating how much space you’ll take and how much he’ll get

if you shift closer in your sleep he’ll freeze for a moment but he won’t pull away

if you move a lot in your sleep he won’t say anything just yet

but expect to be bombarded with complaints when you wake up in the morning

he watches you out of the corner of his eye, something he describes as “just trying to protect you” by “keeping watch” but you know he’s just dazzled by your beauty who isnt

he’ll lie awake for a while staring up at that huge piggy bank that his future lies in, and he knows he can’t love you like he wants to, but he hopes that just this once his brain will accept what his heart feels

when the sunlight hits his face in the morning, he’ll look so peaceful that it makes even ali question his mood

all the while gihun is just staring in horror at sangwoo like he got some puss

ali / 199

THE POOKIEST POOKIE

he’s so shy UGH i jus wanna gobble him up sjsjsjkgnskjn

but he can’t help smiling softly when he realizes how comfortable you seem to be around him

he’ll offer to sleep on the cold hard floor and insists you take the blanket for yourself, but duh you don’t allow that

so with a grin on his face he lies down next to you

he asks you if you need more space at least 10 times, he’s that nervous

the blanket stays on you though, he can’t risk you feeling cold or uncomfy because of him GNELTMENANN

he’ll stay awake if you want someone to talk to, or to make sure you’re warm enough, or even just to admire you

but if you don’t want that, he’ll pull an aurora and fall asleep so quickly you don’t even realize it

his hand stays brushing against yours under the blanket though, and you feel so warm and fuzzy next to him

he’s a snuggler, so there’ll be times where he’ll shift very close to you in his sleep, not realizing the hand he’s keeping on your waist or the head he’s resting on your chest

someone points it out in the morning and he’s so flustered he apologizes profusely even though you keep telling him you didn’t mind it all

definitely says something like “i slept with you, remember?” because he doesn’t realize it’s an innuendo

© chuulyssa 2025 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

weirdness

OKAY

Why’s Skully’s idea of the ideal Halloween so jank??? Bro wants:

No candy (he says it’s frivolous and therefore unnecessary; Trey and Riddle argue for candy, RIDDLE defends CANDY)

No decorations (he calls for modesty and simplicity)

No color (just rooms painted entirely black with a single lit pumpkin; Vil and even Malleus, who often wears mostly black, areagainst this idea)

No music, no dancing (only silence; he says music and dancing is inappropriate even after the mermen talk about the importance of music)

To beat back (bad) ghosts (even though this holiday is meant to honor them all and their temporary return to the land of the living; Leona, Sebek, and Jamil are appalled at the suggestion, calling it discourteous)

Very odd how his entire concept of Halloween contradicts his idol’s vision for it?? Especially since Skully claims he and his entire village supposedly worship Jack Skellington as the founder of the holiday. In fact, Skully seems to be experiencing cognitive dissonance when Jack proposes a Halloween with all the things Skully disapproves of, but agrees to help with Jack’s vision anyway. What kind of twisted version of history do they have in his hometown…? Are Jack and Halloween as a whole just super dull there???

AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF, Skully js disappointed when you disagree with him… There’s also a very strange personality shift between Skully’s upbeat, gentlemanly self and the Skully that makes that deranged expression, speaks ill of dissenters, and gets gloomy when his ideas are rejected. His wording is also very odd???? He says things like he’ll teach everyone what a “proper” Halloween is, which is very reminiscent of how controlling Riddle was back in book 1. Skully also talks about LOT about reflection and atonement. He also mentions it is his duty/reason why he was brought to this world/book… to show everyone what Halloween truly is.

HOW IS SKULLY JUST AS CONSERVATIVE AND VAGUELY RELIGIOUS AS ROLLO???????? 😭 Look, it’s okay to have a different perspective on Halloween and want to celebrate it differently than the modern and more commercialized version of it, but there’s no need to be upset about it when you get outvoted??? (Not the NRC students were the most polite when they told Skully off, but still…) Really not sure how to feel about this.

Starting to think your classmates were right about you being WEIRD, Skully 💀 I didn’t buy the “he’s a cultist” or “he’s old/dead” or “he’s Rollo’s dead brother” theories but now I’m really eyeballin’ him suspiciously… (Not that I believe the theories now, but something is definitely up with him.)

[artdcnaldson]

okay but PLEASE elaborate on Olympics!Art AU

TeeHee

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v), feral obsessive behavior, infidelity

A/N: And you would do it too, that’s all I’m saying. Also IMPORTANT note: I love Tashi, she is a mother to many. However this fic has a very obsessive reader who just wants to fuck a married man, at Tashi’s expense

Maybe you were a bad person.

You’d met Art and Tashi Donaldson before— a year back at an event held for Tennis’ rising stars. That was you, some other guys who had done well in the Juniors, a girl from an Ivy League, and more people that fell into the blind spots of your interest..

You must’ve looked so sweet in your formalwear, approaching the couple with shaking hands so you could say just how big of a fan you were. You had no ill intent then, not when you were face to face with two people you’d idolized since you were twelve and watching the Junior US Open. That night you’d taken a deep breath as you stared at the ceiling of your home, feeling like you’d made it.

Sure, Art was handsome, and you’d lived the past decade harboring a massive celebrity crush on him, but he was married, he was untouchable. Art Donaldson oozed that sweet, devoted husband shtick. Anniversary posts, birthday posts, Valentine’s Day posts, Mother’s Day posts. He had a daughter, he posted about how much he loved being a dad.

You were fine accepting that your fantasies of fucking Art Donaldson were strictly fantasies. But that was before you qualified and had to see him every fucking day.

Art Donaldson, who held open doors for you, who talked to you casually, like he might an old friend. Art, who stood in the long line in the food court with you, ate something he probably shouldn’t have, and asked that you don’t tell Tashi.

And you’d smile conspiratorially, and assure him his secret was safe with you. The implication being that you’d keep that secret, and more. As many as he’d ask you to, really.

You’d see him on a practice court, running drills with his wife, and feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You’d turn away, focus on your own game, practice until your hands were aching and sore.

“Where’s Mrs. Donaldson?” You asked one night after you’d been sexiled and had to sit out in the hallway waiting for your roommate to finish up. Art leaned against the wall, standing tall above you, so you had to crane your neck. You liked that point of view, on your knees looking up at him, you wondered if he liked it too.

“Oh, she’s staying in a very nice, very expensive hotel room with our daughter right now,” he said with a grin. “As soon as my events are done, that’s where I’ll be too.”

“Oh,” you said, bringing an easy smile to your lips. “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now.”

“We?” He questioned.

You gave a coy smile, batting your lashes so sweetly. “Maybe just me.”

There was a strange expression on his face for just a moment. Then he laughed like it was nothing. He wished you a goodnight and good luck in your matches the next morning, and disappeared into his own room.

You medaled in women’s doubles. They published photos of you and your partner biting the silver between your teeth. That same day, Art Donaldson took home gold. You were there to see the very end of his last match— every single collision of racket against ball, every step, every grunt of exertion. Your thighs clenched as you watched, fists balled up in the fabric of your skirt.

You wanted him in a needy, desperate sort of way. Like a groupie for a rock band, or a virgin being sacrificed on a mountaintop. You watched him celebrate with a kiss from Tashi and felt that same need like an open wound. Jealousy was festering in you like a rot.

The dive bar wasn’t what you’d expected. Something Art had found with a quick google search and a few minutes with a translation app. He’d knocked on your door to invite you, wearing the beaming smile of someone on top of the world.

“So you’ll come?” He asked after he told you all about it.

“Mhmm,” you said, heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ll come.”

And there you were— in a dress that hardly qualified as such— standing so close to him that you could smell his expensive cologne. His arm would brush yours, he’d glance over and apologize with a warm hand to your arm. You’d clench your thighs together and peer at him through your lashes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.

A few of the other players disappeared to play darts, or watch the late night coverage of the other sports still competing. You stuck by Art’s side, happily allowing his attention to fall on you completely.

“I saw parts of your doubles final,” he said finally. He was drinking a brand of beer you’d never seen before— something local, you supposed. “You looked beautiful out there.” Your eyes lit up, and then he added. “The way you were playing, I mean— it was phenomenal.”

“Well, I’m no gold medalist,” you said. You let your hand rest on his arm, and looked up at him. The fingers on your other hand toyed with the edge of the medal, warm from where it had been flush against his chest.

He swallowed. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, but he didn’t discourage it. Not one fucking bit.

It wasn’t lost on you that Tashi wasn’t there. Not that it was really her type of venue, from what you had gathered. It wasn’t lost on you that Art Donaldson was at a dive bar, drinking random Brazilian beers, instead of celebrating with his wife, with his daughter. Fuck all those posts on his instagram— if he really was a good husband, a faithful one… that’s the only place he’d want to be.

“I saw your match too. I ran right over after my ceremony to watch,” you confessed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else— you were standing so close to him that you were nearly pressed completely into his body.

His lips twitched in interest. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhmm. It was incredible. You were so dominant out there, just taking what was rightfully yours.”

He swallowed again, gravitating closer. Your tits were practically spilling out of your dress— he probably got the perfect eyeful when he eased you closer with a firm hand on your lower back, when he looked down at you through blown pupils.

“You looked so fucking hot out there, Art,” you said, lips brushing against his jawline. “You can’t even imagine how it felt sitting there, watching you win. How turned on I got… how wet.”

Art exhaled a shuddery breath. “Jesus Christ.”

It must’ve been a while since he had someone want him this bad, you thought. Clearly he needed it— needed a pretty, sweet thing to tell him just how much they wanted him. You could be that. You could do that.

“I’m not wearing panties,” you whispered in his ear. His grip on you tightened and you had to suppress a giddy smile. “You can feel if you want. I won’t tell.”

He swore under his breath and glanced around. Everyone was too occupied or drunk to give a shit about what the two of you were up to.

He grabbed your hand, pulled you away into the bathroom. You looked pretty even then, in the flickering lights, sat up on the edge of the sink eagerly awaiting his attention.

When he wrenched your thighs apart, he was greeted by the pretty sight of your glistening cunt— sticky with arousal and need. His hand fit there perfectly, right where you needed it.

“Fuck,” you gasped. His fingers rubbed through your slit— wet and hot and aching for him. Your head fell back, knocking against the dirty mirror. “Want you to use me— whatever you want, just take it.”

And you meant it too. This was your teenage idol— a man you’d touched yourself to the thought of countless times. He owned your body, your sexuality, as much as you did. It was only fair he took from it whatever he pleased.

You watched with hungry eyes as he fumbled with the button of his pants, then shoved them down just enough to free his dick.

Your mouth fucking watered with the need to feel it on your tongue, nudging against the back of your throat. You weren’t opposed to begging— you nearly started before you got it into your hand.

Warm, thick, pulsing. Precum beaded at his tip, so you smeared it around the sensitive head of his cock with your thumb. He groaned, bucked into your fist once, twice before he moved your hand.

“Spread your legs wider for me,” he said, slapping the inside of your thighs. You obeyed wordlessly, spreading yourself out invitingly. He pressed closer, so you felt him rutting his dick against your pussy, coating it in your arousal. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

The words came out with equal parts disgust and awe. He probably thought you were a slut with the way you were throwing yourself at him. You wished he’d just call you that, spit it in your face.

Your cunt pulsed with need, aching to be filled up finally. The culmination of years of fantasizing. Art pressed himself against your entrance, sinking himself into you with the slow reverence of a man who liked making love.

He buried himself inside of you and had to stop moving to keep from cumming then and there. He was a perfect image of restraint— the way his fingers dimpled the flesh of your hips in a bruising grip.

Art wanted to be a gentleman— to give you time to adjust to the size of him, to ease you into it and let the pleasure be a slow, soft burn. He pulled out nice and easy, slid himself into your wet, throbbing cunt. That was all fine and good, but you knew it was just pretense. You were laid out and wanting, begging for him to use you as his own personal toy.

“I’m not your wife, Art.” You met his gaze, locked your ankles around his waist. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

The first thrust, the first real one, knocked the air from your lungs. That silence didn’t last long— because you got what you wanted— he was really fucking you, bullying his cock into your pussy with the same need and desperation that you felt.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve— fuck— you’ve got no fucking self respect, huh?” He pounded into you, leveraging his grip to pull you against him, really impale you on his dick.

The moan that escaped you was pornographic. If he kept talking to you like that, if he kept fucking you like that, you’d cum.

“You don’t even care, do you? This fucking pussy’s squeezing me so tight— you fucking love this,” His voice was strained, interrupted by groans and pants.

You moaned, eyes rolling back. “Love this,” you echoed. When you looked down, at the sight of him splitting you open, of the ring of creamy arousal circling the base of his dick, you felt dizzy. Like you were standing on top of a tall building and looking down. Sort of out of body, tethered in the present by brutal thrusts into your pussy and the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies joining.

Your fingers moved between your thighs, rubbing needy and insistent at your clit. So close to finishing that you wanted to cry and just ask to start over again, that you’d savor it more a second time.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned suddenly. You felt him start to pull out, to leave. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck— not yet, you didn’t want it to end like that. “I have an IUD,” you lied through your teeth. You used your legs, pulled him closer, deeper. “Just keep going, don’t stop. I’m right there.”

He moaned against your throat— holding you tight, fucking into you with animal need. Your fingers moved against your clit with an insistent need. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge. Your moans so loud that Art had to put his medal between your lips to shut you up.

And you were so pliant— letting him drill into your aching, used cunt, your mouth tasting like metal. You felt his rhythm falter— one, two harsh thrusts that knocked muffled moans from you until he came, painting your insides thick, creamy white.

He stayed buried inside of you for a while— panting, doing his best to catch his breath. You spat out the medal and it fell back against his chest, spit slick and shining. You reached up, ran your fingers along his face, reverently, sweetly. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it away with delicate fingers.

When he pulled out, you felt that sinking feeling of loss and jealousy in your chest. He redressed in silence, turned away like he couldn’t stand to look at you, or the mirror. Shame rolled off of him in waves that you wanted to brush away.

It wasn’t bad, you’d assure him. You’re a tennis star, you’re the greatest in the world. You should have whatever you want, whenever you want it.

But you didn’t say that. You just tidied yourself up as best as you could and slipped back out into the bar. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

[parkerluvsu]

need some virgin! art x touch starved! reader who really fucking needs some action and he just DOESN’T KNOW HOW so it’s a lot of laughter but both of them kiss so desperately…

I'D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU..

(virgin art donaldson x touch starved! fem reader)

art has been your best friend since forever.. from sharing ice cream cones as kids to sharing homework answers in high school. you didn't want to lose him when he went all the way to stanford for college, so you went with him, stating that you already wanted to go to school there, it was just a coincidence that they had a tennis program for art. it was no secret that you two liked each other, it was obvious since you were young, and once you decided to follow art to college it was clear to him that he wanted to do something about it.

it was a normal sunny day at school, you made your way down the winding paths to the tennis courts like you usually do after class, knowing art is probably there practicing. he greets you with his usual smile and wave, walking over to say hi, spitting out his gum on the way. "hey, you're here earlier than usual" he says, "not that im complaining" you look away to hide the light blush forming on your face. "yeah well my lecture ended early, i thought i'd come surprise you" you smile, admiring the thin sheen of sweat on arts face, the moisture turning his hair curlier than usual. art says that his practice isn't over yet, but he'll come hang out at your dorm after. you nod, leaving and heading to your room to prepare. you know it's not normal to feel this pressure to be perfect for your friend, but you can't help but take a quick shower, slathering your body and hair in sweet smelling soap and spraying some perfume around the room.

you feel your stomach jump when art knocks on your door (you should really just give him a key), walking over and looking back at your room to make sure everything looked good, before opening the door. art immediately notices the sweet smell of you, his eyes fluttering shut as he greets you. "hi.. you smell nice" he says shyly, a big change from his demeanor earlier. you smile, waving him into your room and sitting cross legged on the bed. art sits next to you, on the edge of the bed, which you find strange, usually he gets comfortable right away. "are you okay art? you don't seem like yourself.." tilting your head to the side you try to meet arts eyes, but he doesn't look at you. "you know you can talk to me art, we've been friends since forever, you know?" he nods slowly, taking a deep breath before turning and facing you, sitting cross legged like you are. "okay.. ill tell you, but promise not to laugh at me okay?" you nod, urging him to speak more. "well.. patrick has been making fun of me a lot lately, you know how he is.. when he found out i was a virgin in college he couldn't believe it.. and- and i know we've been friends forever so i was wondering if you could help" he blurts it out so fast you have to take as second to actually understand what he means. "art.. are you sure? i mean wouldn't you want your first time to be with someone you like?" you ask, hoping you'll get the answer you're looking for. "i- it would be, if it was with you" he says, hanging his head down. he knows it's putting you in an awkward situation but it's now or never. you don't know why it happens, but you start to giggle, your heart filling with happiness after art confessed. "listen, art you know i'd do anything for you yeah? i just wanna make sure you actually want this.. with me, i don't want you to regret it" art looks toward you, finally meeting your eyes with his watery blue ones. "i could never regret anything i do with you" he says, leaning closer and pressing his lips to yours, sighing happily when you take control of the kiss, deepening it as you climb into his lap. pulling away and cupping his flushed face with your hands you press your forehead against his. "tell me if you want to stop okay art? ill take care of you i promise" he nods slowly, only looking at your lips and wishing they were on his again. you kiss him, more aggressively than before as you let your fingers wander down his chest, gently tugging at the hem of his shirt, feeling his flushed skin underneath. art gets the message, pulling off his shirt as he lets you do what you want to him, shifting from kissing him to sucking down his neck, leaving blooming purple marks in your wake that are sure to get art in trouble. he welcomes it though, he needs a reminder that you were actually here with him, that he wasn't imagining it. when you make your way back to arts mouth he whines softly, pulling at your shirt, "wanna see more of you.." you laugh softly, leaning back and pulling off your shirt, happy to press your own heated skin against arts. his head is reeling, the first girl he ever liked is kissing him, not just that but she's gonna take his virginity, art almost can't believe it, but feeling of you in his lap pulls him into reality.

after a few minutes you lean up on your elbows, telling art to take his finger out. "did i do something wrong?" he immediately asks, scared that he hurt you. "no no it's okay, i just think that im ready to have you inside of me okay?" he nods quickly and makes his way back up the bed, his hips hanging over yours. you fumble around on your nightstand to find a condom, taking it and handing it to art (who only knows how to put one on due to his embarrassing sex ed classes in high school) and spreading your legs wider to accommodate his frame. art looks quite anxious for someone who's about to lose his virginity with a girl he's liked his whole life, so you take his mind off of it by kissing him softly, not aggressively like before. when he starts to slowly enter you have to close your eyes at the stretch, he's not uncomfortably thick but he's definitely the longest you've taken. opening your eyes you're faced with art in the same situation, fully inside of you but not moving, his eyes scrunched closed. finding his hand white-knuckling the sheets next to your head, you replace the sheets with your own hand, lacing your fingers together. "art are you okay?" he nods, taking a deep breath. "yeah im fine it's just.. you're so warm and tight.. feels like i can't move" he almost whines, slowly dragging his hips out before pressing balls deep inside of you again. "fuck.." art swears he's in heaven when you clench around him, his forehead dropping to touch yours as he starts a steady pace, keeping in mind he could cum pretty much anytime. he can tell he's too nervous to get closer to you, so, making the move first you wrap your arms and legs loosely around him, feeling him actually relax and stop tensing his body. the closeness spurs him on as art sets a faster pace with his hips, now not even pulling out all the way, mostly just humping his hips into you. you weren't expecting him to perform as well as he is, feeling yourself clenching around him as you get closer. "art.. art im close.." you whine out to him and he nods, his eyes still closed as he squeezes your hand. as he gets closer you notice he also gets much louder, whines and moans escaping his lips with no sign of stopping, mostly utterings of "fuck you're so warm" and "please keep squeezing me like that" and though you love hearing him you know your neighbors will complain, so you kiss him yet again, still soft like before, and you can tell that both of you are trying to convey feelings of fondness through it.

you aren't surprised that art cums before you, with a loud moan that you're glad you had the foresight to stifle. it almost sends him into complete overstimulation when you cum, clenching tight around him. after the adrenaline wears off from cumming, art completely rests his body weight on you, his warm body actually weirdly comforting in the moments after sex. you sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before art finally pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before laying back down with you. "i really can't thank you enough.. i mean i thought losing my virginity would be awesome but.. that was like next level.." you laugh at arts flattering but funny wording as you flip onto your side, looking up at him. "of course art.. we've been friends forever, there's nothing i wouldn't do for you" arts stomach drops at the mention of friends, immediately thinking the worst. "so.. after this we'll just go back to being friends?" he has the cutest pout on his face when he asks. you almost laugh again, stopping yourself when you see the serious look on his face. "i mean after this i would hope that we could be more than that" you say, sitting up slightly. art let's out a breath he didn't know he was holding when you say that, "thank god.. ive been waiting to ask you to be my girlfriend for like 8 years now.." he smiles genuinely at you, his pretty blue eyes gleaming in the beams from the sun peeking through your window. you lean in, pressing a soft kiss before pulling away, reaching over for his backpack. "what are you doing?" he asks, confused when you hand him his phone. "don't you want to tell patrick the good news?"

art doesn't have much experience with his own pleasure, only finding time to jerk off quickly in the shower or to help himself sleep before bed, so he can't explain it when his hips start to cant against yours, whines and little moans escaping his swollen lips. you smile when his hips start to move, knowing that since it's his first time he probably can't help it, but you can't stop yourself from teasing him. "excited art?" you smile against him. he immediately blushes, hiding his face in your neck. "i- im sorry i don't know why that's happening.." he says, panting into your mouth. you giggle, feeling a bulge against you as you stop kissing art and look at him. arts lips are shiny and slick with spit, his chest and face flushed and his hair curled with sweat. "do you.. want to go further?" you ask even though you know the answer. he nods quickly, "yes.. please i do" you smile, happy with his answer, leaning forward and kissing him. you tap his hips with your hands to signal him to lift them, pulling off his gym shorts and exposing his boxers underneath. he gasps at the pressure of your hand on his bulge, the warmness of your hand feeling different (and much better) than his own. you look up at him, silently asking if you can go further and he nods, lifting his hips again to let you pull off his boxers, groaning when his drooling dick slaps against his tummy, smearing precum where it rests. art is so sensitive that even the air touching him makes him twitch. he looks away, embarrassed of his sensitivity and the fact that he's the only one naked. sensing his nervousness you say softly, "it's okay art, i knew you'd be sensitive, it's your first time after all, i was sensitive too" he smiles and nods, biting the inside of his cheek at the thought of you being the sensitive one.. but he'll save that thought for another day. he's brought rudely back into reality when you touch his dick softly, running your fingers gently from his flushed pink tip to his base, tightening your grip until art pretty much slaps your hand away. "i- im sorry i was too close, i don't wanna cum yet.." he says, trying to avoid the embarrassing truth that he just wants this experience to last longer. you nod, deciding to pull off your shorts and panties as well, for the first time feeling a bit embarrassed as art can't pull his gaze away from you. "you can touch me if you want to art.. i can help you" he nods wordlessly as you switch positions, now you lay back against your pillows as art hovers over you, desperate for the next step. "okay art, so before we do anything you have to prep me okay? it's best to use your fingers.." it's awkward to talk about it to him, but knowing it's his first time helps spur you along. "okay and.. and where do i put them?" art asks, looking up at you for guidance. you move him down the bed, so that he can be face to face with your pussy. the urge to squirm away or cover yourself up is hard to resist, and art is able to tell that, gently placing a warm hand on your inner thigh, the pressure calming you down. you take his other hand in yours, slowly guiding him down to your slit but letting him push a finger in on his own. he looks up at you constantly for validation that what he's doing is right, and feels good to you, his eyes widening when you clench around his finger, his dick twitching against the bed when he imagines how nice you'll feel against him. finally relaxing, you let art do his thing, blissfully rocking your hips against his hand. you're thankful that you're able to do most of the work, letting art just experience things for the first time.

[salty-autistic-writer]

“Is he here?” Tommy asks, feeling strangely calm, considering his current circumstances. 

Eddie shakes his head, cursing and shivering while the helicopter makes a creaking noise, sways and sinks into the water just a little more. It rises to Eddie's midsection, darkening his clothes. “No. He’s at home. Baking and looking after Jee. He said they want to make a gingerbread house."

“Good,” Tommy mutters, his head lolling to the side. He’s tired. And so cold. The embrace of the water is freezing. At least that means it’s numbing the pain. Or maybe he’s not feeling as much pain as he did right after the crash because his body is about to shut down.

It’s better this way, he thinks. Evan shouldn’t have to see this. He shouldn’t have to feel the pressure to say something nice to Tommy in his last moments.

Eddie’s face is tense, his eyes filled with determination and his shaky breaths coming out as foggy clouds as he tries to get to whatever is pinning Tommy’s legs down and holding him in place. He’s talking to someone who is on the roof of the helicopter, someone who’s holding a flashlight and a rope that’s tied to Eddie so that they can pull him out when it gets too dangerous for him. It seems like there’s a lot of people out there.

Tommy really didn’t think they would try that hard. He didn’t even think there would be a rescue attempt. It was so dark and lonely when he crashed into the water, he thought he would simply drown like that. Alone in the dark. It’s nice to have some company instead.

“It’s okay, you know?” He tells Eddie, noticing how his words start to sound all slurred. He thinks he lost blood. It's been seeping into the water. “That’s how I want to die.”

No long battle. No illness. No waiting. Only this. The certainty that he did what he could to make sure the helicopter didn’t hurt anyone else while crashing. He almost made it to the beach. But the water is even better. No messy crash site with broken parts. No explosion. No fire. Just a floating wreckage, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Clean. And final.

“You’re not going to die,” Eddie tells him sternly. “I am going to get your stupid dramatic ass out of here in time and we are going to patch you up so you make it to the hospital. And then you are going to survive.”

For what? Tommy wants to ask. Because these last few days, he’s been merely existing. 

He swallows. Everything tastes like blood and salt in his mouth. It's so cold. By now he's not even shivering anymore. His body is just stiff and numb. He can't imagine ever feeling warm again. “Can you … can you tell Ev -”

“No,” Eddie interrupts him, both his hands disappearing in the murky water and his jaw setting. “We are not doing this. Now take a deep breath for me. This is really going to hurt.”

And then Eddie push-pulls. And it does hurt. God, does it hurt. The pain tears through Tommy in one violent wave, white and blinding. It takes every coherent thought away. Tommy can hear himself scream. It’s a scary experience. Like he’s being pushed out of his own body for a moment, then forced back into it. Blood fills his mouth as he bites his own tongue and there are flashing lights in front of his eyes and he thinks he hears Eddie’s voice, but he can’t make out any words. His world is pain. It drowns him before the water can reach his mouth and nose.

The next moments are a blur of shadow and light. He’s pulled, pushed, lifted. There are too many hands on him. Too many voices above him. Too much pain burning his nerves. It seems to go on forever. Until the pain suddenly fades and numbness creeps in from all sides, sending him into darkness. Finally.

His last thought is that he should have sent that text message.

*

Beeping.

Tommy wakes up to a steady beeping, a dry throat and a white ceiling. Blinking into the sunlight, he tries to make sense of this new situation. He’s been floating in darkness. Now he’s in a bed. He’s alive. And he’s not alone. When he turns his head on the pillow, he sees someone he thought he would never see again. And it’s … too much.

The moment he knew his helicopter was about to go down, Tommy was ready to die. It wasn’t the first time he prepared himself for the end.

He is not ready to live. Not ready to face Evan. Not ready to understand what he sees in Evan’s eyes.

“You’re awake,” Evan says, standing up from the plastic chair in the corner that’s way too small for him and pushing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “You ... God. Tommy."

Evan looks tired. His eyes are redrimmed, his hair tousled and his cheeks covered in a stubble.

Guilt makes Tommy’s throat feel tighter. He tries to say something, but Evan raises a hand.

“Don’t. Don’t say anything,” he says. “It’s okay. I … I want to be here, alright? If you don’t want me here, you can … you can tell me. It's fine.” He rubs his face with a shaky hand. 

I always want you with me, Tommy thinks. I'm just scared that being with me isn't what would make you happy. I want nothing more than for you to be happy.

“We weren’t … we weren’t always sure you would wake up, you know?” Evan says quietly. “You lost a lot of blood and you were bleeding internally. Also the cold ... They had to treat Eddie for hypothermia too. But at least you managed to crash the helicopter into the water. If it had been the cliffs ..."

He swallows heavily, shaking his head as if he is trying to push that thought, that image, away from him. “Anyway, I’m just happy you’re alive. And I, uh, I brought you some cake. It’s your favourite.” He smiles weakly. “That’s all I’ve been doing lately, you know? Baking. It’s been a distraction. Helped me to keep myself from calling you. Because I wanted to. All the time.”

Evan shakes his head and sighs. "It's probably pathetic. But what can I do? And I'm rambling again. Sorry."

Tommy feels tears in his eyes. “Evan …”

“It’s okay,” Evan tells him. “We don’t have to do this right now. You … You just woke up. You’re hurt. And on painkillers. So I’m not going to expect anything. We can … If you want to, we can talk later. Yeah.” He scratches the back of his head. Hesitates.

Tommy clears his throat. “Evan. My phone. Is it …”

“Oh. Yeah, I think it’s still working,” Evan says. “They have it in a bag. Together with your other stuff. Like the keys.”

“There’s … I wrote. I wrote a text. Didn’t send it. Think it was saved … as a draft,” Tommy says and every word pulls at his energy, draining him. “If you want to. You can read it.”

Evan’s eyes widen. “Thank you,” he breathes. “I will.”

Tommy hums. He can’t keep his eyes open anymore. Distantly, he hears Evan say that he’s going to call a nurse. And then he thinks he feels a hand running through his hair once. Just once. But maybe he just imagined that. He sinks into darkness once more.

For @tevanadvent2024 Day 6: „That’s how I want to die.“

(AO3 Link)

[imsofreakingtired]

idk if this might be off the table but can you write about sevika finding reader on the bridge about to jump off of it but she gets there just in time

Feel free to ignore if you don’t like it !

thank you for the request anon </3

disclaimer: this piece is not meant to trivialize, romanticize, or dramatize mental illness. i write these to cope and draw the content matter from my own experiences. if you are personally going through something like this, please please reach out and seek help!! tumblr is not a viable replacement for therapy!! and as always if this content is triggering or upsetting for you, pls scroll away and take care of yourself 💙💙

don't let me go

content warning(s): heavy angst, depictions of depression and self-destructive ideation (hurt/COMFORT this time tho trust 🙏)

"this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow if it weren't for you, i'd be here all alone i know in my heart this is where we belong this world is a wasteland... don't let me go."

~~~

*context: reader and sevika have been friends since childhood and now both work under silco.*

~~~

“Sevika,” you say. 

She grunts. 

“What’s your dream?” 

“My dream?” 

“What do you want. I mean really want.” 

Sevika rolls a broken bottle under her boot before pulling back her foot and kicking it into the river. It takes off with a sharp clinking sound, the music of breaking glass, before sailing through the air and plunging into the river water.

“Kill my old man,” she says.

“Okay, second to that.” 

She looks at you. “What d’you mean?” 

You stare back. She is only eighteen but looks older than her years, already tired of the world and its cruelties. She has grown too quickly for her young mind. Her body is hardened to the undercity. You love her with a hopelessness deeper than the black river dividing Zaun and Piltover. 

You ask again, “what do you want?”

She flashes you a rare crooked smile. “To live with you up there.” Pointing in the direction of Piltover. 

“In Topside?”

“No. In the sky.” 

There’s a pause. Then you say to her, “you’re so stupid.” 

“What do you want?” She returns. 

“Me?” I want you. The unspoken words tumble to the tip of your tongue, and you swallow them again. 

“I want a fucking break,” you say instead.

“Hunh.” She kicks another bottle. “We’ll get it. When Zaun is free, we’ll get it.” 

It isn’t quite what you mean, but you don’t try to explain yourself. You don’t tell her that she is the only reason you’re here, even when it sometimes feels like your will to live is clinging on by the fingernails. You don’t tell her that the sound of her voice anchors you when you start spiralling, guilt-ridden and full of self-hatred. You don’t tell her that the greatest fight in your life is not against the enforcers but with yourself. You don’t tell her that you fight every day because of her. 

Because you know she doesn’t fight for you. She fights for Zaun. 

~~~

Sevika watches you closely, though you never realize it. You have been acting strange nowadays, working for days on end without sleep or not coming into work at all. Silco has said nothing about it, because you’re one of his most prized henchwomen, but Sevika can sense something is off. You barely speak two words together unless it’s necessary, and when you do it sounds like your mind is far away. You look tired all the time and sometimes you disappear altogether, returning an hour later as if nothing had happened. And only Sevika notices the bloody cuticles, the swelling around your eyelids. 

One day she corners you in the passageway outside Silco’s office. 

“Are you sick?” she demands. It comes out more brusquely than she intends. She is mortified at her own concern for you. She doesn’t want you to see how much she worries for you, the effect you have on her. 

You look up at her in alarm. “No,” you say quickly. Too quickly. 

“Then why…” she searches for the right words, struggling not to betray herself. “Don’t lie to me,” she says at last. “Something’s wrong.” 

You can see right through her tough façade. You can see the concern in her frowning eyes. And all of a sudden you’re filled with deadly hope and an overwhelming desire to let go. Break down. Tell her everything.

But then you remember that most likely, she’s only concerned with the impact this may have on your usefulness to Silco—to Zaun. You’re terrified she might discover your condition and tell Silco to fire you, that you might be holding them back, that your emotional instability might make your jobs sloppy. 

So you do what you do best. You swallow your words. 

“I’m fine,” you say. “I’m sorry.” 

Her frown deepens. “I said don’t lie.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, either.” 

“I have work to do, Sevika.” You try to move past her but she reaches out and stops you with her mechanical arm. 

“You used to tell me everything,” Sevika says. Was that a trace of sadness in her tone? Was it your imagination, or was there a softer look in her eyes? 

“There’s nothing to tell,” you say, and each word feels like a dagger in your own heart. “I swear.” 

You duck under her arm and walk swiftly away from her. 

~~~

It is a clear night and you and Sevika are on the rooftop of the Last Drop, sharing a bottle of wine. You can hear Vander and Silco arguing inside the bar, most likely on the topic of politics. They are already dreaming big, thinking past the long fight to overcome, visualizing a brilliant and abstract future. 

You do not see a future. On bad days you see nothing. 

On the good days…

Sevika takes a drink from the bottle and slings an arm around your shoulder. She can be casually affectionate when she’s in the mood, and you cherish these moments. You lean your head on her shoulder. Her skin is warm under her shirt. 

“What would you do if I died?” you ask her. 

Sevika doesn’t answer right away. But you feel her grip on you tighten. 

“If I lost you,” she says finally, “how do you think I’ll go on?”

~~~

When Sevika finds your note, the first thing she thinks of is that conversation on the roof, years ago. She has not forgotten a single thing you ever told her, and the recollection fills her with a terror she’s never known before. 

The slip of paper in her hand reads, you don’t need me anymore. Thank you. For all the moments you gave me before. 

Sevika doesn’t even stop to put on her cloak. She just turns around and runs. 

She’s too late. She’s too late. She’s too late. 

She tears down the street, pushing people carelessly out of the way. As she runs she activates the Shimmer cartridge in her mechanical arm. A hot rush, the familiar jolt, the searing pink in her vision. She runs faster, faster until the buildings are a blur around her, until the sweat flicks off her face. 

Between gasping breaths, like a mantra to you, she whispers, “Please. Please. Please.” 

~~~

It is too late to cry, it is too late to turn back, it is too late to think. Your chest is tight with all you remember. The waters churn under you. 

The only person in the world you have hung on for is Sevika. You tell yourself she will move on quickly. You tell yourself that your death would not make much of a difference to her. What was one person lost in the grand cause? Silco would be able to find a replacement in no time, and the great machinery of Zaun will continue to turn its weary gears. 

Sevika is now a part of that machine. Sevika will not miss you. 

You close your eyes and let your body fall forward. 

Someone screams your name, a raw desperate sound that doesn’t even sound human. 

A flash of rippling pink, a burning sensation around your waist, and then suddenly you’re on the ground. Someone’s arms are wrapped around you, someone’s voice is in your ear, and someone’s hot tears are falling into your hair. 

Sevika. 

Your eyes are shut because you’re afraid you’re already gone. You’re afraid if you open your eyes your senses will catch up with you, and Sevika will be replaced by the cold embrace of water, Sevika’s voice will become the rushing waves over your head. 

But she’s holding you still. She’s holding you so tight you can hardly breathe. She’s saying, over and over, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, you’re okay.” 

And you can feel her heart pounding wildly against your ear, which is the only indication of how scared she actually is. 

You free your arms and wrap them around her neck. You let yourself break down. You cry until your chest feels like it’s tearing apart. She’s still holding you, her mech arm pressed into your back like a brace, and you cling to her tighter. 

“Don’t let me go,” you beg. “Oh god, don’t let me go.” 

“I won’t,” she says roughly, her voice shaking. “I never will.”

~~~

note: dear readers, i am sorry. 🥲

[pomefioredove]

I'm not sure exactly which day counts as "weekend" bc of cultural differences lol but you can ignore this if it's not on the permitted day!!

But for the brief Rollo x reader thing that's you're doing, can I please have something with him and a reader that is generally very tactile? One day they grab his hand to pull him somewhere as they absentmindedly ramble, and they don't realize it until he speaks up about it (or not....? <w<)

hii anon!! ofc this is a very cute request

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ cold hands

type of post: short fic characters: rollo additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Winter in Fleur City is as unkind as it is beautiful.

Autumn's colorful embrace was short and sweet, giving you but three weeks of cozy, lukewarm mornings before the trees were bare and bending in the breeze that carried along the Soleil.

The first snow of the winter season had completely frozen over the river.

It had also kissed everything in frost, blanketed the streets, and canceled classes at Noble Bell College for the morning. It was heavy and restless.

It became no wonder to you that the people of Fleur City were eager to put up their tinsel and candles. The smell of cinnamon and pine is an effective distraction from the icy wind, after all.

And so, without classes to attend to, you find yourself walking through the city on crushed snow, already muddy with boot prints and animal hooves, to a seasonal cafe which had just opened.

Oh, and the Student Council President has offered to escort you.

It's, apparently, quite an ordeal; the few Noble Bell students you pass by in the streets stop mid-snowball fight or nearly drop their to-go coffees from their mittens when they see you, bundled up in Rollo Flamme's scarf, walking hand-in-hand.

You honestly hadn't even noticed you had grabbed him. It had been somewhat of an impulse, your cold, undressed hands feeling out for something to hold.

And usually, that would have been a quill, or one of those artisanal wooden blocks this city so loves, just something to run your thumb over while you think, not the Student Council President's hand.

But he doesn't say anything, and, more presently, doesn't pull away.

"You really ought to have dressed warmer," Rollo says, fussing over the scarf he'd given you off his own neck. "You'll catch something, and missing class over a frivolous venture such as is unacceptable."

"I suppose I didn't think of it,"

"Then next time," he says. "I don't know what I would do with myself if you were ill. It's the busiest time of year."

Right. Finals are coming up.

"I won't do it again,"

He sighs. "I know. Now, come along. Morning classes may have been dismissed, quite unnecessarily, I might say, but we'll both be expected on campus at noon,"

His hand tightens around yours, and his pace becomes brisker, cutting through the myriad of tourists and laughing children and pigeons. He shields you from the falling snow and blistering wind, holding you behind him until you reach the cafe.

It's bustling and loud inside, busier than the annual cafes you're used to visiting, but Rollo somehow has you in and out with a warm drink and a pastry in no more than five minutes.

You have the treat outside, your hands already cracked from the dry cold in the air, and once you've finished he slips his hand into yours and begins walking again.

There's not much conversation. Rollo is a strange man; some days, he's happy to talk about the history of Fleur City or what he's studying in Noble Bell's prestigious law class, and some days he's like this. Quiet.

His hand is surprisingly warm, though, despite the cold he seems to maintain a high body temperature all on his own. He runs a thumb over the back of your hand, feeling the dry skin there.

"You're freezing,"

"I'm okay,"

"Honesty is a virtue," he snaps, his sharp way of reminding you that he can always tell when you're lying, and he doesn't like it.

"You'll catch your death of cold. And then what would I do?"

For a fleeting moment, you can swear he gets a little warmer; or, at least, his hand does. You must be imagining things.

The silence lingers like the cold in the air, but, finally, he gets you to start talking about your favorite class subject, which you do until you've reached the gates of the school.

Rollo stops you, bids you an overly formal good-bye, and takes his hand, too, leaving you with the cold.

Hm. He seemed so off today. You wonder what that could be?

You won't realize that you'd been holding his hand all morning until later, but for now, you're content with the mystery and the warm scarf he left on your shoulders.

[thebestsetter]

Leo Valdez is kinda obsessed with you.

Like, really. Even before you two began dating. Actually, especially before you two started dating.

Here's the thing: Leo was used to getting rejected by lots of girls, overlooked by everyone and feeling like he was not and would never be good enough. So, when someone - you - treated him with minimal decency, he was absolutely and undeniably hooked.

Your smile, your laugh, your touch, and everything about you made him feel all warm inside (even if he's already literally warm - but you know what I mean). And yet, he couldn't find the strength to confess to you, even if his feelings were eating him from the inside out.

It's just that - he felt like didn't deserve you. You deserved someone much better than little old him, and that's why he never made any advances besides the rare playful flirting (that only happened when he was feeling VERY brave).

But, one day, he decided enough was enough. He couldn't take it anymore: just watching you and knowing you're not his. Just thinking about you with another person made his stomach churn and his mouth feel dry.

He needed to find a way to win you over. He REALLY needed to. For both him AND for his friends, since they couldn't handle him talking about you all the time anymore.

But he couldn't just go and talk to you. Oh no, no. He needed it go perfectly. That's why he needed to practice.

"I love you, bad boy Leo!"

"No, you're not supposed to say that yet! I can't believe I messed up. Now, which wire do I need to unplug..."

It was a really funny scene, honestly. Just picture it: Leo freaking Valdez, one of the seven demigods from the prophecy, a guy who literally defied nature's order and came back from the dead, inside of bunker 9, talking to a robot who had a certain female demigod's voice and face stuck by tape to it's robotic "face".

"Okay, it should be all fixed now!" He smiled, clapping his hands to clean them a little "Let's try again. Caham!" He cleaned his throat and turned away from the machine.

Leo patted his shirt, passed his hands through his hair, fixed his imaginary tie and smelt his breath. When he deemed all was perfect, he turned back to the robot.

"Hello, mi Vida! How are you? Bet you're better now that I'm here"

"Yes, Leo! I'm much better now that you're here!" The robotic voice answered, using the pre-progamed speech

"Well, I need to talk to you about something very important" he grabbed the robot's hands, squeezing them while staring intently at your printed face

"Sure, Leo! I wanna talk to you all day!"

"Thank you for the compliment, Hermosa!" He smirked, and then started to get closer to the robot's face "I needed a lot of courage to actually talk to you. You know, you're an amazing person - the most amazing I've ever seen -, and I realized I fell for you because of that. I really, really like you. You're strong as heck, smart, funny, beautiful and, if I'm being honest, WAY out of my league. I know I'm probably too bad for you, but please give me a chance. I love you! Do you love me back?"

He waited a little. If he programmed this machine right (and he was sure he had. It was one of the most difficult - yet important - machine he had made in a long time), you - and by you, I mean the machine - were supposed to say...

"Hm. I'll think about it. You're kinda strange, you know? Talking to a robot and pretending it's me. But you're also cute, so I'll give it a shot"

"What the heck? It wasn't supposed to say that!" He muttered, confused, looking at the machine

"Hey! Don't call robot me an "it"! She's a "she", thank you very much!"

He was hallucinating. He probably was mentally ill or something. He hoped he was, at least. Because there was no way he just heard your voice. And not the robotic voice - your voice. That unmistakable sound, the one who appeared in his dreams and nightmares.

He didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to face you.

"H-how..." he asked, his hands forming little flames and face red "How much did you hear?"

"Since the very beggining" you laughed, and he could hear you getting closer - yet he still didn't want to turn around. "I didn't expect to see you talking to a robot version of me when Percy asked me to come bring you lunch"

He was going to kill Percy Jackson.

"Can't say I didn't like it, tho"

Huh. Maybe Jackson deserved to live another day.

"Really?"

"Really. I like you, Valdez. Ever since you gave me that tour on my first day here."

He finally - finally - turned to face you. His eyes drank in you - all of you. From your beautiful locks to your scrapped knees to your face. The shine in your eyes was something no printer could ever replicate.

"Really?" At that moment, he was the one who looked like a broken machine, repeating the same thing over and over - but he was still NOT believing this. He couldn't believe you actually liked him back. Him, the guy who talks to machines as though their living beings.

"Really" you laughed, the sound bringing a smile to his lips, as you got closer and closer till your hands were in his and he could literally smell your perfume "Let's give this a shot, Repair Boy"

Oh boy. You just broke him. Guess there's some things not even Repair Boy is capable of fixing, after all. His enourmous crush on you being one of them.

~ A/N: first pjo fic!! How are we feeling guys? 😋

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Hi, I was wondering if you still accept requests because I read your Wonka fics and find them very cute and wanted to ask if I could also make a request. And that is that the reader has sleep problems and asks Willy finally what she can do about it as soon as she no longer knows what to do and he makes a certain chocolate for her so that she can sleep better again? (Something fluffy please) Thank you!

A sweet remedy [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

note: I'm sorry it took me so long, these weeks I was covering a full shift and with the holidays I barely had time to do anything, but I'm back now! And I hope you like it

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

While you were scrubbing one of the most difficult sheets you had had to wash during the day you felt your eyelids begin to close, at first little by little, and at times completely. It wasn't until you fell against the tub full of soapy water and stood up with a scream at the temperature that you realized you really had a problem.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Piper asked, immediately approaching while you struggled to keep the detergent from getting into your eyes and mouth.

“Yes, everything is fine,” you lied. Everyone had already gathered around you and shame was taking over your body. “I just… I slipped"

“Here's a towel,” said a familiar and loving voice, which belonged to your recent but quite dear friend.

Willy approached you and wrapped the towel around you, carefully, while he helped you clean your face. Once you could see more clearly you noticed that everyone seemed worried and you honestly didn't blame them. Your face reflected the lack of sleep you had had during the last few weeks, coming from a previously unknown cause. The only thing you knew was that the insomnia was literally killing you.

"Are you sure you are alright?" now Abacus murmured. You nodded again and smiled at everyone, imploring them to let the moment pass.

When you were dry enough you continued with your tasks, but you could feel your friend's dissatisfied gaze from across the room, as if he were the only one unwilling to ignore your recent strange behaviors: you were distracted, you seemed to leave mentally out of nowhere and this wasn't the first incident where you practically passed out on a dangerous surface.

At some point you had to carry a cart of sheets to the drying area and that's when he hurried to follow you.

“Let me help you,” he exclaimed, smiling in your direction as he held the cart you were pushing.

“I'm fine,” you said, to reassure him, because you knew that he had approached you to monitor your mood.

One by one you took out the sheets and began to put them in the dryer. The process would take a while, so you guys had a few minutes to chat, after all you knew the others wouldn't mind.

You leaned against the old machine, feeling the vibration on your lower back, and he did the same. The distance was so close that your hip was touching his, turning any conversation into a private one.

“Are you sick or something? We can get a doctor, if so”

“I'm sick, but I don't think it's that kind of illness,” you sighed.

"What do you mean?"

It was useless to keep hiding things from him, and who knows... that ingenious mind might even find a solution.

“I can't sleep, Willy. I don't understand why I can't, but I've had problems with that. I think it's called insomnia, or something like that” you began to explain, crossing your arms as if you wanted to protect yourself from the vulnerability “And it's horrible and it makes me feel stupid. I mean, who can't do something as easy as sleep?”

“Sometimes I don't get it either. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Yes, I know, but…” you started moving your hands in the air, trying to find the right words to express yourself, “it's different. And I don't know what to do anymore, I can't sleep during the day because we work and I honestly feel like I'm going to collapse at any moment.”

Even though he was listening to you attentively, he didn't know how to respond for a moment.

“Do you think I look very bad?” you continued “You know, like… physically?”

“No, I think you look beautiful,” he replied, without thinking too much about it. “Maybe there's a little more pigmentation here…” his thumb slid under your eyes, in the place of your dark circles, and you smiled involuntarily “but nothing to worry about.”

You were reassured that you were still pretty in your friend's eyes, but you knew that the worried look on his face wasn’t in vain. You had to do something about it.

“Perhaps among your curiosities you have some chocolate that helps me sleep?” you joked, speaking only to the air.

But on his face you saw that expression of machination that suddenly emerged, almost as if a light bulb appeared over his head at the idea that was going through his head.

"Not yet. But it's an excellent idea."

“Oh, I wasn't serious…”

“But it’s brilliant,” he interrupted you. The dryer stopped and you knew the drying cycle was over, as should your conversation “Give me some time and you can sleep like a baby, I promise.”

That was perhaps his favorite thing: making promises. And of course, comply with them.

You wanted to answer him something, but a yawn preceded you and the man simply laughed at the irony of the moment.

“I guess I can't refuse now, can I?”

“As soon as I manage to do it, you will have it in your hands,” he said, excited.

With that the talk ended and you began to hang the clothes on a rope, returning to the day's work, but now with a better spirit in the hope that Willy could help you get what you wanted so much.

"Special delivery?" someone knocked on your door. You were like every night, just curled up in bed to hope for the best.

Willy was holding a small purple box with a red bow, which judging by the excited smile your friend had, you assumed was the remedy for your illness.

"It will work?"

“I hope so,” he said, entering your room to sit next to you on the mattress. “I'll stay here for a few minutes to make sure you can sleep and then I'll leave, is that okay with you?”

“It's excellent,” you answered nervously, while you took the candy that your friend had made especially for you. It was shaped like a small moon and glowed inside. “What is it made of?”

“I'll tell you in the morning, when you wake up.”

His feet moved slightly, showing his excitement, and that seemed to rub off on you. Glory seemed so close and you could reach it with a couple of bites, but before that you leaned down to wrap the boy in a hug.

“Thank you for trying this for me. I know it will work, but… even if it doesn't work, you know I appreciate it.”

“Don't say that, it will work” he replied, with complete confidence.

Without further ado, you put the candy in your mouth and tasted it. You couldn't identify any ingredients, but it tasted delicious and cozy, somehow. Although you wanted to compliment your friend's work just a second after the candy had melted on your tongue, you were already feeling how everything around you was becoming heavy, as if the accumulated fatigue had hit you suddenly.

You were already unconscious when Willy trapped you in his arms and laid you carefully on the bed, completely happy to see that his creation had had such an immediate effect. As a farewell, he covered you with a sheet and kissed your forehead, going to his room to recreate an entire jar of chocolates that would ensure your rest for long enough.

[yanderes-galore]

Honestly, Trafalgar Law is one of my favorites, can I ask for a concept of him if that's okay? Thx!

Like most of the fandom, I love him lots. He deserves it. I hope I get his character right, if I didn't, I'll take suggestions.

Yandere! Trafalgar D. Water Law Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Violence, Drugging, Clingy behavior, Fear of loss, Biting, Murder, Blood, Forced relationship/companionship.

Law's backstory is a tragic one.

He originally lived a good life before hitting the age of ten, then lost everything.

He has experienced what it's like to nearly die from an illness... and has witnessed those he cares about die protecting him.

Point is, I don't doubt Law struggles with personal connections at times.

He's a doctor and would fear losing his obsession at times.

He views alliances as a means to an end.

He's patient, tactical, and oddly calm in tense situations.

Although many know him for his cruel and nihilistic nature.

Such a thing he no doubt learned from Doflamingo when he was part of the Donquixote Pirates.

He's the captain of the Heart Pirates and many know him to be ruthless.

In reality, Law can be soft... but it will take some effort to get there.

He likes to observe before making a move due to being so tactical.

There's a good chance when he meets his obsession he's going to observe everything they do before trusting them.

He seems like he'd be a yandere slow to obsess.

Yet when he does, he would do just about anything for his obsession.

Law has a complicated relationship with love.

He used to have Corazon and now has his crew...

Yet anyone outside of that is very foreign.

He's cautious when he first meets you.

Maybe you're a captain of a crew, or maybe even allied with the Straw Hats yourself.

Or, if you want a more established connection, you could be a newer member of the Heart Pirates or an ally of them.

Law, most of the time, is often stoic and seems cold.

He's easily annoyed and rather blunt.

He'd probably be the type to tell his obsession what's on his mind if he feels he needs to.

Considering he's a doctor who has witnessed those he loved die, I can see him using that to his advantage.

He has access to various medicines and possible drugs.

Not only that but he would insist on being the one to take care of his obsession.

Sure, you could ask Chopper, but would you really want the reindeer instead of him?

In a strange way he enjoys taking care of your injuries, although I feel most doctor characters in general enjoy that as a yandere.

After all, you'd be completely reliant on him at that moment.

It makes him feel oddly calm to know you're safe with him.

While Law may appear distant with his obsession at first, he's keeping an eye on your every move.

Law is insistent on being protective of you due to his strong Devil Fruit Ability.

He can literally teleport within a specific area with it by swapping places with things.

Escaping? Not anymore.

In danger? He'll take it for you.

He brushes off the things he does for you, too.

He's casual when taking care of your wounds, oddly gentle despite his borderline sadistic tendencies in battle.

If he aids you in a fight, he says nothing about it.

He treats caring for you like he has to.

It's different from him with the Straw Hats.

He holds a certain compassion for you that he didn't think he'd show some outsider.

Yet over time, the more he meets up with you...

You manage to distract him from his goals.

Law, for most of his character, is obsessed with revenge.

He wants to kill Doflamingo because he killed Corazon.

Corazon was probably Law's strongest connection.

Ever since then he feels he has to prove why he should be loved.

Yet with you, he doesn't need to prove himself.

You trust him, you ally with him...

You're just as bad as those damn Straw Hats at times....

Law is a One Piece yandere who would kill.

He's seen it, he's done it, this is the same man who gave the World Government a hundred pirate hearts to become a Warlord.

He's infamous.

He puts together good plans and may even be a bit of a perfectionist at times.

When it comes to his obsession, I feel that means he's planning everything.

He notes your abilities, how you act, who you interact with, potential threats, and ways he can limit harm to you.

At first he doesn't understand why he cares so much.

You're just someone he can use to achieve his goals, right?

... no.

For some reason... He feels fond of you....

Part of him may wonder if Corazon sent you for him.

He's quick to push aside such a thought.

That doesn't stop him from trying to protect you though.

He can be possessive at times... although his possessive nature and protective nature are closely linked.

He wants you safe... but he also wants to be the one you solely rely on...

If he keeps you by his side.... He can have both, right?

Since he plans so often, I can see him manipulating you.

You trust him and that trust allows him to get away with more than most.

Especially if he's tending to you after battles.

Law no doubt lectures you on fighting.

You should take care of yourself... He doesn't want to keep patching you up.

Even if part of him likes it when you lay on his table and let him lightly touch you.

Law loves to take care of you even if he doesn't admit it.

He'll take care of your wounds... however...

I can also see him drugging you.

It wouldn't be often, but if he felt you were being too reckless he'd probably do it to 'treat you'.

In his eyes, keeping you out of harm and under his care must be love.

He's ruthless to most but you.

You're probably one of the only people he smiles around.

He considers you family in a way, if not something more intense.

Sure, you may complain when he tries to force you out of battle...

But the doctor knows best, does he not?

He'll treat you for any ailment... real or imaginary.

I'd say in terms of affection I'd say he can be gentle and rough.

There's times, like when he's patching you up or trying to be comforting, he'll gently kiss your skin and hold you close.

He has a certain soft side he rarely lets anyone but you see.

Then there's times where he gets a bit rough, usually when stressed about someone or something... it's then he gives you love bites, loving the sight of his marks on you.

Law would get his clothes covered in blood if it meant it kept you safe and to himself.

He doesn't care, he's killed before, countless times.

If it's for you, someone he loves, of course he'll do it.

He hates to admit it but he feels dependent on you.

He hasn't had love in a long while... with you it feels so warm.

He craves it.

He loves your warmth, the way you feel against him...

He wants to hold you and never let you go.

While Law is slow to get attached, he can be quite intense.

He'll trap you beside him if it means he won't lose you.

That's his biggest fear, honestly... losing you like he did his family and Corazon.

Honestly, locking you by his side in order to keep you to himself works for him.

It means he doesn't lose you... You may be unhappy, but he promises he'll care for you.

He understands your want to fight... but too much will take you away from him.

Pardon him for being cold and cruel...

But Law knows what's for your own good...

Even if you don't love him... You'll come to understand his reasoning eventually, right?

[a-d-nox]

nox tests hypotheses: "saturn tells you what annoys you"

this is one of shawtyherbs hypotheses. this is how i feel this manifests for me in my chart and why i believe this hypothesis works. my saturn is located in my 3h, in taurus at 29°... let's take deep dive!

taurus saturn

a lack of discipline: i feel like i have a strong work ethic - i value hard work. i despised when i did group work in school and i was paired up with procrastinators or people who were unwilling to put in the necessary effort to achieve a good grade. it felt like every time i had my part done i would start getting anxious that the other person/people didn't. it felt like a manipulation - like we were playing chicken. if they didn't do it, would i do it for them? how long did they have to wait until i stepped in?

instability and unpredictability: sudden changes, chaotic environments, and erratic behavior can make me uncomfortable, anxious, and annoyed. i guess it's sort of like a trauma response from childhood except now i get irritable... everyone know my dislike for surprises.

wastefulness: i get easily irritated by wastefulness, whether it's wasting time, money, or resources. again maybe its from my childhood and having those experiences. but i am the type of person who arrives on time. if i buy something and don't like it i use it until it's gone, i eat it til its gone (even if its stale), or i use it til its paid itself off (if i buy a shirt and can't return it and it was $30, i am wearing it 30 times). it sounds strange - i know - but it is how i am...

superficiality: i really value authenticity. i feel like i am easily annoyed by superficial behavior, materialism without substance, and people who put on mask to fit in... like so what if you don't laugh at someone's shit joke, so what if i am happy with my hydroflask and want nothing to do with a stanley (it's all the same to me), and who cares if your true self is not everyone's favorite (you'll find your people a whole lot faster if you're your self).

resisting practicality: you know how much advice i have given throughout the years THAT WAS ASKED FOR and people did what they wanted anyway??? why even waste my time if you don't want outside perspective. or something its just kind advice to help with ease like hi you are using a stain on the deck, i recommend you wipe as you go so it dries quicker and you don't accidentally smear/smudge later. but nooooo.....

saturn at 29°

arrogance: you know it's okay to be wrong... it's not okay to pontificate about how you were right in some alternate scenario. just admit you were wrong in this situation and move on or better yet say nothing...

irresponsibility: when you say you are going to do something do it. if you are a leader then lead and know that you are responsible for anything you designate to someone you view as your subordinate (especially when you don't train them on what you want them to do for you). if you can't commit to having a task or being in charge than don't do it. someone is relying on you - it's 10 times worse when its yourself and you push goals to the side.

unfounded claims/criticisms: perhaps i am overly sensitive to criticism because i tend to take my work and my self a bit too seriously. but if you can't take yourself and what you do seriously, then who will? i take everything personally too. so when i get criticism and its said in a nasty way (at least how i interpret it) or there is a lack of explanation or no backing i will get annoyed. you bet my humor will be ill-tempered... you can't expect me to react well to a comment like "you're wrong". like wow okay so detailed, i'm glad you decided to write one word and a contraction to dismiss my 2k essay. like if you are going to criticize me or disprove me make it detailed and make it sound. and if i do something wrong its probably because no one told me how to do it in the first place (cough cough work) so don't snap at me, walk me through it.

lack of respect: now listen - i'm no angel, i was a teenager once - eyerolls and all. but now that i am a bit older (she said at 23) i am getting to the point where respect isn't freely given (unless its to build a good first impression) but instead its earned in a pre-existing relationship. i don't tolerate disrespect, no one is going to snap at me and tell me what to do. you do that and you will get the opposite reaction that you expect from me (speaking from real life situations). asserting dominance doesn't make you worthy of respect, it makes you a bully.

3h

superficial conversations: i said it why back when in one of my get to know me posts. i prefer deep, meaningful conversations and i find small talk / superficial chatter frustrating or pointless. like skip to the meat bruv - we don't have all this time for "hi how are you?" "good how are you?"

disorganization: a lack of structure, whether in communication, in a learning environments, or my daily routines, irritates me. i feel like it effects me most in the routine bit. weekends are my prime culprit because my schedule falls apart. during the week my meals and tasks are standardized, but on the weekend, i somehow manage to always get annoyed because i eat lunch late or what i had in my mind to do gets tossed aside...

gossip/rumors: i feel uncomfortable with gossip, i prefer facts and reliable knowledge. which i know facts seems shaky when i am posting the content i do... but generally facts over fiction in conversations. gossip and the like almost always gets me in trouble - i struggle with holding my tongue especially when i see someone regularly who has been gossiped about frequently. withholding information is a form of lying in my opinion - and lying makes me extremely uncomfortable.

impulsive decisions: i am trying to get better about this because i tend to carefully deliberate everything. but i don't like when others around me make impulsive decisions that effect me because it ruins the plan i already had in my mind. for example, last weekend i wanted to go to an all day fall festival with my mother (and yes i told her tuesday my plan) but last minute my mother's boyfriend-not-boyfriend said he needed her help with a project and it was going to be an all weekend thing. so friday night my plan went out the window. so quickly had to make a new plan consisting of paid readings, trader joe's, and shampooing my couch (fun stuff i know...).

a lack of respect for rules/boundaries: a disregard for social norms, etiquette, and established rules of communication annoys me so badly. like it is common courtesy (at least for how i was raised) to call or write in advance of stopping over at someone's house. my mother's boyfriend-not-boyfriend is the biggest perpetrator of this behavior. they aren't technically dating anymore so hello hi in my opinion he should be giving us a heads up if he will be stopping over. also switching gears when i say "no" or "i don't want to" i feel like a lot of people around me push me and test me to see if i will change my tune. i don't appreciate that in the slightest. i make clear boundaries in all the relationships i have (even here i have guidelines) - so yes, you bet i get frustrated when i vocalized or wrote my boundaries and yet they get ignored.

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[astr0n0va1]

𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 - 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 - 𝟐

Previous parts Teaser Pt.1

I'm sorry about the wait and from now on ill post one or two parts a week. I had a really busy week and this chapter takes things a little slow but next chapter will be really good. Thank you for reading, liking, and reblogging. Enjoy <3 - Astr0n0va 2,207 words

The next morning you woke up feeling certain things. You hadn’t even fully woken up and you started thinking about Armando and the events of last night. As your mind created thoughts and fantasies with him you started to lead your hand down your waistband and past your panties. But then there was a knock at your door. You retrieved your hand and groaned before getting up.

You opened the door to find Kelly standing there with a toasted bagel topped with cream cheese and a cup of Orange juice.

“Morning Y/n do you have anything to tell me?” She asked, holding out your breakfast. 

But as you went for it she pulled it back before you could reach it. You looked at her and she raised her eyebrows telling you to tell her. You took a peak in the hallway making sure Armando wasn’t anywhere near. Then you fully opened the door and let her in.

“Fine, come in.” You said before shutting the door.

She handed you your breakfast and as you started eating she started talking.

“ Well, I don’t know I found it strange that when I woke up at like 11 at night to get some water I made my way to the kitchen but you weren’t there. So I thought she must be in her room, but when I checked you weren’t in there either. So where were you missy?” She asked before stealing a bite of your bagel.

“First of all I thought this was my breakfast, and you can’t tell anybody but I was washing dishes and Armando offered to help and we started building something. Then I was giving him the house tour and I was showing him the garage and he asked if he could bring his bike in, and I was like yeah. Then we kind of went on a little late-night ride. After that, we come back and obviously, I’m thanking him and he’s like anytime princess.” You explained.

When Kelly heard the last sentence her eyes went wide.

“ I didn’t think of him to be a little sweet talker.” She said while changing positions to get a better view of you.

“But that’s not all because then it was like 12 or 1 in the morning and I felt a little thirsty. So I make my way downstairs to get a water bottle and find him shirtless in some pajama pants also looking for water. So then I’m asking him what he’s doing up and all that. Ok so he ended up putting the water case in the fridge, and then as I’m walking upstairs he’s behind me. And then I’m like good night Armando, and he’s like a goodnight princess. When I tell you my heart was down to my ass at that very moment I mean it.” You before taking a drink of your orange juice, as the storytelling of your night made you thirsty.

“So are you going to fuck him?” Kelly asked shamelessly.

“When you say it like that it makes me sound like a slut.” You said while getting up to pick out your outfit for today.

“Oh I’m sorry do you plan to make love with him Y/n?” She said while putting quotation marks around making love.

“Thank you, but I don’t know. He works with me. It's not like I can have sex with him and then see him every other day and act like nothing happened. So I’m not sure what I’m doing with him yet.” You said while pulling out a bikini from your mini suitcase.

“Ok just be careful whatever you do. I don’t want to see you get hurt, especially by him.” She said while coming closer and looking at the clothes you had picked out.

“See now this is what I am talking about you need to show off your body more. It's a shame that you hide it underneath all those baggy tees and sweatpants.” She said while peaking through your bag.

“Okay Kelly message received, but about what I just told you please don’t tell anyone.” You said begging her.

“ I won’t trust me. But as of right now, you need to get ready so we can fucking go.” She said before placing a slap on your ass.

“owwwww Now I’m going to get you back for that bitch.” You said to her before she grabbed your cup and started to walk out of the room.

“ oh come on you know you like it princess.” She says trying to mock Armando.

You grab a pillow and quickly throw it at the door but she closes it before it can make contact.

After you showered you put on your red 2 piece bikini and threw on a pair of jean shorts and a crop top. You put your hair in a claw clip, apply your lotions, oils, and perfume, and then slip into your sandals and make your way downstairs.

On the couch sat Rafe, Dorn, and Armando on their phones. But as soon as you went to turn around Kelly was right coming down.

“Can we take your car Y/n?” Asked Kelly.

“Yeah, sure. But how many Jet skis did you rent?”

“I think 3.” She said while grabbing your keys.

“But there’s 5 of us.” You said questioning her choice.

“Yeah me and Dorn on one, Rafe on one, and it was supposed to be you and Rita on one but since she’s not here your choices are Armando or Rafe.” She said with a smirk.

“Ride with me Y/n.” Said Rafe with a wink.

“Rafe I value my life and my safety so no, I’m not riding with you.” You said while turning to him with a smile.

“Then you are riding with Armando.” Said Dorn, sending you a smirk from across the room.

“Are you okay with that Armando?” You asked him.

“Yeah.” He said with a nod.

“Okay then everyone grabs your stuff and we are leaving in Y/n’s car,” Kelly said while turning off some lights and walking into the garage.

You went and locked the back doors and the front door. This made you the last one in the car. When you got there you noticed Dorn in the driver seat and Kelly as the passenger, this left you to ride in between Armando and Rafe.

>>> skip to the beach

You and Kelly rented a locker to put your stuff in. And as you finished putting your purse and valuables in there you noticed Kelly taking off her clothes revealing her swimsuit.

“Why’d you take your clothes off now?” You asked her.

“Why wouldn’t you take them off now?” She asked while taking off her shoes and placing them in the locker.

You took the message and took off your shorts and your crop top leaving you in your red two-piece. You slid your shoes off and grabbed your glasses before walking out to the rental shack with her.

The guys eventually came and you all divided into your pairs. Then as you got your life vest you looked over to your assigned Jet ski and saw Armando waiting for you. He wore some black swim trunks leaving his toned chest out, and around his neck 2 layered gold chains. As you made your way over he kept his eyes on you as you walked towards him.

“Do you want to drive it first or do you want me to?” He asked.

“You can drive it because I don’t know how to.” You replied.

He then proceeded to get on and then you got on behind him. As he took off you re-adjusted yourself bringing yourself closer to him.

“You can’t put your arms around me I don’t bite.” He said with a small chuckle.

You looped your arms around him and as he took off speeding up you leaned your head on his back holding on to him firmly. After a few swerves and 10-15 minutes of riding Armando convinced you to try to drive it.

“You sure. I don’t want to flip us or anything.” You said while he got off and waited for you to scoot up.

“We will be fine, princess let’s go. I got you if anything.” He said while hopping in behind you.

You put your hands on the 2 handlebars and as soon as you are about to start applying pressure you feel Armando’s body come into contact with you, and his hands go over yours guiding the jet-ski.

Due to his body being bigger his hand just covered yours and helped you guide, and steer the Jet Ski in the right direction.

His scent was strong even though the smell of saltwater should have faded. You saw Keely and Dorn and steered their way with the help of Armando. Before you noticed Rafe was also coming in.

“Y/n how about a little race?” Asked Kelly.

“I don’t know I’m not…” you were cut off by Armando.

“To where?” Asked Armando.

“Rafe, go out,” Kelly said.

After that Rafe steered out about 1/4 mile out.

“What the fuck?” You said while looking back at Armando.

“It’s okay princess we got this just trust me.” He said tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

You swallowed hard and just looked forward again.

“So are we on 1/4 mile?” Asked Kelly.

“We’re on,” Armando replied.

“Alright then when Rafe gives the signal we go.” She said, adjusting herself as Dorn let out a nervous laugh.

“Guys it’s just a friendly race, don't forget that,” Dorn said trying to lower the competitiveness between Armando and Kelly.

“Yes please don’t forget.” You added.

Kelly and he brushed off you and Dorn’s comments and kept their focus on Rafe waiting for him to give the signal. When he did Armando applied pressure onto your hand making the jet ski go faster, this made you sink back into him the farther y’all got. 

Dorn and Kelly were a bit behind you guys but slowly catching up, so Armando decided to swerve the Jetski to get more water on them. So they would slow down and lose. 

But on the last swerve to get back into the side you were both originally on he ended up applying too much force. This caused the Jetski to flip.

Everything happened so fast that you didn’t realize when your body hit the water. The only thing you could acknowledge was that Armando had his arms around you. 

He pulled you up, helping you stay afloat and stay above water before he made his way to the Jetski and flipped back over trying to help you get on. He helped you push yourself up and back to the seat, and then he used his upper body strength to pull himself up. 

“You guys okay?” Says Dorn.

“I would have felt better if we would have won.” You replied.

“You almost drowned and you worried about winning.” Says Rafe while checking his phone.

“No first off my life vest saved me and Armando made sure I wasn’t underwater for a long time.” You said trying to make the situation better.

“Whatever, we have to go, we have to get ready for tonight. And we also have to eat.” Kelly said.

“Yeah, fine let’s go,” Rafe said before putting his phone in the seat compartment and steering off. Then Kelly and Dorn followed.

“Do you still want me to drive back to shore?” Armando asked you. You could feel some of the guilt through his words. 

“Yeah, so we should probably switch,” you said while trying to stand up and keep the Jetski balanced.

You both switched seats, sending him to the front and riding on the back. You wrapped your arms around him and he started steering to the shore. I decided to break the silence.

“Armando.” You said hoping he would respond. 

“Hmm?” He said, keeping his gaze to the front. 

“ You know it’s not your fault it happens to most of us it's ok.” You said as he slowed down as y’all came close to the shore. 

He still wouldn’t look at you or look your way. You got off of the jet ski and took off your life vest. He did the same while not looking at you. 

“Armando, can you take this back for me?” You asked, trying to force some type of interaction.

He nodded and you passed it to him and then grabbed his hand. He was now looking you in the eyes.

“Thank you for saving me out there.” You said. And then placed a small kiss near the corner of his mouth. 

You then walked off back to the locker to get your stuff, and Kelly eventually joined you.

“I saw what you did out there.” She said nudging you. 

“Yeah like you said I have to get out of my comfort zone a little bit more.” You replied with a small smile.

“Fuck, I think when we get to the house I’m taking a nap and then I’m going to get ready for the club,” Kelly said exhaustedly.

“Same because I just know it’s going to be a long night.”

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Taglist: @cardi-bre91, @believeinthefireflies95, @blackgirlmagicforever , @bootlegroach , @mentalidrainedfangirl , @lotusunique, @thesizzler , @marissa53115 , @yeahnohoneybye

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[missmonsters2]

🥶

WandaNat

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: awkward!reader. clint slander. WandaNat no mercy.

Note: i miss them

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: 999 (🧍‍♀️)

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⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This was your worst nightmare—trapped between the bodies of two incredibly hot, kind, and funny women. 

And no, it wasn't in the sexy way—your brain refused to even let you go down that route. You'd implode at even the slightest thought of it. 

This was Clint's fault, you quietly seethed, plotting his gruesome murder that could later be turned into a true crime podcast. Laura will have to be a widowed single mother, and the children will have to grow up fatherless, but surely it was for the best. 

"Come down to visit us!" Clint said to you, your mind mimicking his voice unflatteringly. "It's been way too long since you guys came to stay with us."

It was a normal occurrence; you thought nothing of it. You, Wanda, and Natasha often went to stay with Clint and his family quarterly. Natasha visited more with her girlfriend, Wanda, and they invited you every time, but you settled that four times a year was enough. 

It was usually fun, and the time spent was enjoyable, so you really had thought nothing about it.

Until Clint decided he was actually the incarnate of the devil and condemned you for some undisclosed sin. 

"Oh, you three are cool sharing a room, right? The other spare bedroom is under renovation. I mean, one of you can take the couch but I highly don't recommend it with what the kids have spilled on it over the years."

No, it wasn't okay, you wanted to say at the time, but Wanda and Natasha nonchalantly waved Clint off and told him it was fine, and the conversation breezed on, never to be returned to again. 

Why would he invite all three of you if there wasn't enough space!? You tried to tell Wanda and Natasha that you could drive to the nearest hotel at night, but they looked at you strangely and asked if you hated them. It was jokingly, but you could hear a tinge of hurt in their voice, which silenced you from offering to leave again. 

But now you were suffering. 

The bed was way too small for three people but left enough room for just a couple of inches to keep you from coming into skin-to-skin contact with either redhead.

You stared at the ceiling, despite being unable to make out any details of the room in the darkness. 

Why the fuck were you in the middle?

You should've been on the edge. At least then, you could hang half your body off it to keep some distance. 

You started at the edge of the bed—make no mistake. But then Natasha came to your side and asked you to scootch over. You assumed she preferred sleeping on the right side, so you started to make your way down to the other side. But then, to your horror, Wanda climbed in from the other end, effectively trapping you in the middle. 

The words were caught in your throat as you tried to force them out and ask if you could have the edge, but Natasha and Wanda mumbled their goodnights before promptly falling asleep. 

This was unacceptable; you mentally cried. This was—weird. You know that Wanda and Natasha have been together for ages, and they probably didn't care, but it was strange to be in the middle of them like this. You're way too awkward for this. 

It brought up the unwanted feelings you've been trying to get rid of for months. 

The worst part was that it was winter, and this room was so fucking cold. Was Clint going through financial hardship? Why isn't there any heat in this room?

You wished him ill, you wished him ill, you wished bad things upon Clint Barton. 

You shifted, trying to pull the blanket up higher and shrink yourself to retain some of the heat. You turned on your side, facing Wanda's back, and frowned. You could practically feel the heat radiating off her and wanted to scoot away from her. But you couldn't. You'd scoot right into Natasha, who was also radiating heat as she faced your back.

At this moment, you hated them for being so unaware of their temptations. 

You swallowed. Moving a little closer to Wanda wouldn't be too bad, right? Just to steal a bit more of her warmth, so you could fall asleep and wake up early to get out of bed. 

You scooted a little closer, your nose just inches away from her back since there wasn't much wiggle room. Her heat emitted off her like a goddamn fireplace, and you sighed a little at the warmth on your nose and the parts of your cheeks. 

It was still pretty cold, and you shivered a little. 

Your movement seemed to wake Wanda as she lifted her head to look around at you. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Turning back, Wanda lay her head back down and shut her eyes with a yawn. 

You started to scoot back to where you were, but Wanda grabbed your wrist from under the blanket and pulled it over her waist as she shuffled back into you.

The warmth pressed against your front jolted you, and you were stiff, despite how good it felt. 

"любимая, she's cold," Wanda mumbled in the dark as she threaded her fingers through yours.

Wanda was clearly speaking to Natasha because the redhead behind you shifted and moved closer until she was pressed against your back snuggly. Her arms wrapped around your midsection as she tangled her legs through yours. 

You wanted to die. 

You wanted to kill Clint Barton and then run into oncoming traffic. 

"Um," you croaked. 

"Is this better?" Natasha mumbled sleepily, and she was so close you felt her lips move against your shoulder. 

No.

Yes.

No.

"Uh," you dragged out before finally deciding with an awkward stiff, "Yes."

It was warm—almost too warm now. You closed your eyes with a silent groan. 

You weren't getting any sleep tonight.