#in my imagination they have not said I love you yet but he is horrendously down bad

[sgtcalhouns]

Start Me Up

you know how in the limo sex chapter of the mechanic au felix briefly mentions the time they got a little hot and heavy in his truck at the garage? this is that. nothing explicit but I’d still call it nsfw. enjoy!

It was late in the day when Felix pulled into the garage. Tamora was hunched over the engine of a car, too busy working to turn and look at the driver who had intruded on her space.

“We’re closed.”

Smiling from his place in the driver’s seat, he put the truck in park and rolled down the window.

“I’m sorry to be a bother, ma’am,” he replied. “I’m looking for the beautiful mechanic who works here. Have you seen her?”

At this, Tamora stood and turned to face him, a bemused smirk playing at her lips.

“There she is!” Felix said, smiling brightly at her.

Despite herself, she chuckled at his cheesy antics. This sort of behavior had always been nauseating to her in the past, but it was so genuine coming from him that she couldn’t help but be charmed by it.

“Hi, Felix,” she said as she approached the window.

“Hi, Tammy Jean,” he said, reaching out to bring her hand to his lips for a kiss.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she said.

He leaned his arm against the open window frame and sighed.

“I was gonna come up with some excuse, but honestly…” he shook his head, amused by his own behavior. “I just really didn’t want to wait until this weekend to see you.”

He had dropped the playful mask, revealing the truth beneath. They were both busy this week, their schedules refusing to align in a way that would allow them to spend time together until the end of the work week. It was only Wednesday; she almost felt bad that he had only made it through half the week.

“Lucky for you, that sounds like a problem I can fix.”

She stepped up onto his truck’s running board and leaned in through the window to press a sweet kiss to his lips. Immediately she felt his lips curl into a smile. She pulled away to see him gazing love-drunk up at her.

“Yep, that’s exactly what I needed,” he said with a grin.

“Don’t tell me you came all this way just for one kiss.”

“Well, if you wanted more I certainly wouldn’t be opposed—”

She shook her head in amusement as he spoke.

“Move over, I’m coming in.”

Felix scooted over just in time for Tamora to open the door and plop down beside him, shutting the door behind her. He met her halfway this time, gently combing his fingers into her hair as they settled into a tender kiss. When she pulled away again, he didn’t hesitate to voice his displeasure with a whine.

“Wait, shouldn’t you be working right now?” Tamora asked. “I thought Gene had you doing maintenance late tonight.”

“I was able to chip away at some of it during the day today,” he said. His eyes suddenly took on a mischievous glint. “I also told Gene that I really needed to visit the mechanic today.”

Her jaw dropped when she realized what he had done. Felix was so strait-laced, it was almost unbelievable that he was looking up at her with such a sly expression of satisfaction at his own cleverness.

“Lying to the boss?” she feigned outrage. “That’s unlike you.”

“It wasn’t technically a lie,” he reasoned. “All I told him was that I had an urgent problem that only my most trusted mechanic could solve.”

She could tell that he was terribly proud of himself, but she couldn’t help but be curious about how far he was willing to take this.

“Oh, really?” she asked. “And how will you explain yourself if he asks what the problem was?”

Before answering, he pulled her close for another kiss. His priorities for this evening were becoming increasingly clear.

“My starter’s been going haywire, I can hardly keep it under control,” he explained, his voice low as he spoke against her lips. “I think it’s in danger of overheating.”

In spite of herself, his reply earned him a chuckle. He could be quite clever when he wanted to be, and she was happy to reward him with a kiss. Already he could feel himself getting lost, falling deeper into her touch before he could even begin to question it. His hands explored as their connection deepened, mapping out the curve from her waist to her hips as he pulled her close. Tamora’s lips found their way to his neck and the thought crossed his mind that if he hadn’t opened the window, it would probably be coated in steam.

“What about when I send you to work with a hickey tomorrow?” she purred against his skin, making him shiver. “How will you explain that?”

Felix gulped. He ruminated on her question for only a moment before responding.

“You’re very passionate about your work.”

The slight quiver in his voice sent a thrill through her body.

“You got that right.”

Too quickly for his mind to comprehend, Tamora climbed on top of him, straddling his lap as she captured his lips in an unyielding kiss. Her tongue was met with an all too willing entrance into his mouth and his grip on her strengthened in kind. She relished the ways his body responded to her touch, the way she could feel him melting beneath her.

Panting for breath, Felix pulled away, turning his attention to her jaw as he regained control over his breathing. She leaned into him, encouraging him to bestow his attention to her neck. He hummed as her fingers gripped his hair, nails lightly digging against his scalp. This was quickly becoming a dangerous game to play at Tamora’s workplace, but he had long forgotten about everything aside from the places their bodies touched.

As if she had read his mind, she dug her nails more firmly into his scalp and he felt the unmistakable twinge of pleasure in his lower abdomen. Few things pleased her more than how easy it was for her to rile him up, but her overconfidence occasionally caused her to forget that he had committed himself to learning how to press her buttons, too. Ducking his head, he planted messy kisses down the curve of her neck; when the collar of her jumpsuit blocked his path, he pulled the zipper down a ways without hesitation. This alone amplified her desire, but he wasn’t finished.

His hand slipped into her jumpsuit, fondling her breast over the sports bra she was wearing underneath. Her gasp at his unexpected boldness filled him with pride and gave him the confidence to continue the path of his lips down her neck, to the dip above the bone on the left side of her collarbone. Yanking his body flush against hers, she heaved a breathy moan and he smiled against her skin.

Just when Tamora thought she was about to go mad, Felix gently sucked her skin and pinched her nipple in the same moment, and she lost control of herself.

“Felix.”

Tamora’s back arched and she pulled him with her as her body jerked backward. Her elbow came into contact with something solid, and a loud horn startled them out of their intimacy. Turning in Felix’s grasp, Tamora realized that she had hit his truck’s horn, which seemed especially loud due to the acoustics inside the garage. Once they recovered from the shock, they broke into a fit of laughter.

“Safe to say we got a little carried away,” Felix said, his arms wrapped loosely around her waist.

“We?” Tamora replied with a raised eyebrow. “I blame you for that.”

“Hey, you started it,” he teased, leaning up to press a kiss to her cheek. His next thought was mumbled against her skin. “I was just tryin’ to finish it.”

A playful swat collided with his shoulder and he chuckled. They fell into a companionable silence as they collected themselves; Felix zipped up her jumpsuit and Tamora straightened his shirt collar. Brushing her bangs behind her ear, he spoke again.

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked softly, almost shy. It was a stark contrast to his behavior just moments ago.

“No,” she answered. “Why do you ask?”

“I was hoping I could convince you to come home with me,” he said. “I’ll cook.”

She could feel her heart soften as he spoke. Little did Felix know, she hardly needed convincing.

“What about Gene?” she asked. “Won’t he be looking for you?”

His nose wrinkled at the mention of Gene. Right now, his boss was the last thing he wanted to be reminded of.

“If he comes knockin’, I’ll handle it,” he said. “Plus, we could always sneak up the maintenance elevator out back.”

They shared a laugh. Glancing down to where she was seated in his lap, he continued his thought.

“Besides… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but now I really do have a problem I’d prefer your help fixin’.”

[lale-txt]

❉ in a long-distance relationship ↳ w/ Nanami & Naoya (separate)

a/n: getting into my clown car because originally i was planning to write this for four characters in total, then i blinked and suddenly i had written over 2k words in headcanons and drabbles and decided to call it a day. i personally want to thank Nanami and Naoya for representing the both flawless and horrendous ends of the spectrum regarding my taste in fictional men ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

contains: headcanons are sfw & gn!reader, drabbles are ns.fw & afab!reader. i'll put individual warnings before each drabble later in the text.

word count: 2.3k

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

the driest texter known to man

it’s not like Nanami won’t think of you and text you throughout the day, it’s more that his texts read as if they’re coming from your tax consultant rather than from the love of your life

“Arrived at the accommodation. Room is very clean. About to head out for work, will call you later tonight. Love you, K. PS: Heard Lawson has cabbage on sale this week.”

he’s never beating the old man allegations

it’s an obstacle that yours and his work often requires you both to travel and spend time apart, but to Nanami, once committed, long distance was never a reason for things not to work out between you

he keeps his promises and calls when he said he would, he sends you flowers when he can’t bring them back home in person and he orders you food when you’re having a rough day, staying on the phone with you while you eat and letting you vent if you need to 

when he misses you (which he always does), he lets you know. no matter how far apart, Nanami would never make you doubt if you’re on his mind and in his heart 

often he’d send you photos of his lunch or local specialities, sometimes photos from the local pigeons too when they’d pick up the crumbs of his sandwich at his feet

“Those two seem inseparable. Made me think of us. Miss your voice, will call you tonight. What are you having for lunch? Careful when you cut the cabbage.”

at night, after another draining day of fighting curses, the only thing keeping Nanami going is the prospect of hearing your voice over the speaker

he will close his eyes and imagine you snuggled up in bed while talking to him, waiting for him to come home, and oh, how badly he wants to be by your side and never let you go

cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), phone sex, panty sniffing, masturbation (with said panties), dirty talk, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or babies), mention of: brat taming, mirror sex and hair pulling

“Sorry, love. Were you asleep already?”

Nanami’s voice is quiet, almost like an apology for calling you this late. He knows you’re always staying up and fighting your sleepiness, despite him telling you not to wait for him—he’s grateful you do though, because hearing your voice is the one thing that will get him through each day, no matter how long it drags on.

“Mhm, not quite yet,” you mumble into your phone and smile at the sound of his voice. “‘m all cozy in bed though, it still smells like you. Only missing your warmth.”

Nanami laughs quietly at the other end of the line. He has no problems imagining you right now, having the big bed you bought together all for yourself but still curling up on his side of the mattress, where his scent still lingers. He hums softly.

“That was quite the surprise I found in my pocket this morning.”

You hear some rustling sounds and a pair of pants getting unzipped, and the grin on your face widens. Putting your phone on speaker, you set it down on the pillow next to you and roll over on your back, feeling more awake now.

“Well? Did you like it?”, you coo.

“Loved it.”

The panties you slipped into Nanami’s jacket before he left are now dangling from his finger in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He picked them out for you a while ago and now you were simply returning the favor, knowing how lonely it can get on a solo mission. He closes his big fist around them and brings them to his face, inhaling your musk and making him groan quietly. His cock aches in his boxers, precum staining them slightly, but he doesn’t touch himself yet.

“God, I miss you,” he mutters after catching another whiff of your worn panties. “Want to taste you so badly, love. When I get home, I’ll have you sit on my face till your legs give out.”

You chuckle at the prospect of it. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Did you touch yourself with my panties?”, you ask in a sultry voice and you can hear Nanami growl a little at the other end of the line.

“I’m doing it right now,” he replies in a husky voice, having his bottoms hastily pulled down his thighs and now fisting his cock with your panties wrapped around it. The fabric feels soft and expensive, and the thought of how they clung to your cunt when you soaked through them has his mind spinning circles.

“Good. I want to hear you cum,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a better imagination. “Tell me what you want to do with me when you’re back home.”

Nanami pumps his fat cock with one hand, the other holding his phone to his ear. He’s sprawled out in an armchair, head in the back of his neck, his eyes shut as well. His breath comes out raggedly.

“Gonna fill your pretty little cunt to the brim,” he mumbles. “Tongue, fingers, cock. Everything. Whatever you beg for, I’ll give it to you. Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you’ll have it ruin your panties for days, but you’d like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you mewl at the other end of the line, kicking back the sheets and spreading your legs to touch yourself to his words. Your fingers reached nowhere as deep as Nanami's, but it was better than nothing.

“Gonna bend you over and fuck you on every flat surface in our house,” he rasps. “In front of the big mirror too, so you can see the faces you make when you cum on my cock. Wanna feel how tight you get when you’re milking me. As if you’re trying to remember the shape of my cock forever. Made for me, only me. And if you’re gonna be a brat, which I know you will, I’ll stuff your mouth with your panties and pull your hair till I fucked some obedience into you.”

Nanami groans; he is so close. Damn, if only you were here for him to bury himself in the warmth of your cunt. Your whimpering at the other end of the line and your panties wrapped around his cock as he pumps himself are enough to send him tumbling over the edge, a supernova of pent up lust and frustration unleashing within him. The silken fabric soaks up all of his cum, sticky and hot against his skin. He made a mess, but cleaning up was for later.

“You good, love?”, he asks in a raspy voice and can’t help but smile at the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Came so hard I saw stars a little,” you confess over the speaker and snicker. You’ll definitely have to change the sheets before Nanami gets home. As if you two wouldn’t ruin them anyway.

“Good, good,” he laughs. “Now sleep, dear, I kept you up for too long. I’ll be home tomorrow night, okay? Can’t wait to kiss you.”

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀

Naoya hates being apart from you and he doesn’t understand why you take on missions that require you to leave the Zen’in estate aka him

in his eyes, as his spouse there’s no need for you to work at all, you should just stay at home with him or accompany him on his business trips 

he can and he will yap about this while you pack your bags, while he drives you to the train station (he insists to escort you there himself), while carrying your luggage and even between goodbye kisses. seriously, this man never learned how to shut up in his entire life

the night prior, Naoya had made sure to leave plenty of hickeys all over your body, as a reminder who you belong to 

he’s clearly bored out of his mind without you around, your phone blowing up with text and voice messages from him, demanding your unrestricted attention and getting pouty when you don’t immediately reply to him

it’s not like Naoya is jealous or worried that you’d see someone else behind his back–his ego is too big to consider this even a possibility

he’s simply the undefeated champion in the pain in the ass competition 

he’ll act nonchalant when you call him once you’re back at your hotel, trying to sound as if he wasn’t pacing restlessly around all day until his phone finally lit up with your name on display

asking you about your day comes second, first you’ll have to listen to him whining how much it sucks without you around and that this’ll be the last time that he’s allowing you as your husband to go on a solo mission (he’s ignoring your unrestrained laughter about it), and that you’ll have to think of something to make it up to him on your way home which will be in 3 days, 11 hours and 27 minutes (he’s counting)

cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), video call sex, dirty talk, masturbation, praise kink, mention of spitting, sweet talking Naoya into submission, he has nipple piercings in this one, Naoya being his own warning

“Seriously? You couldn’t wait three seconds to at least show me your face before flipping the camera to your dick?”

You lie on your stomach in a hotel bed that’s way too big for you alone, fresh out of the shower, glancing down at your phone in your hand. After a long day of fighting an extremely nasty curse, you crave nothing more than rubbing one out to the voice of your husband and passing out immediately afterwards. Your hips grind lazily into a pillow between your legs, feeling that familiar throb, while Naoya on the other end strokes himself on display as slowly, his thumb drawing circles over his leaking tip. His moans are slightly muffled over the speaker.

“Can’t help it, babe, I’ve been like this all day, aching for ya. Had my cock throbbing even at family dinner. Been thinking about nothing other than stuffing all of yer greedy holes. Just look–”

The movements of the video get a bit shaky when he fists his cock, pumping himself at a leisurely pace. You’ve memorized every vein of his cock, feeling your mouth water a little at the sight of it. While Naoya wasn’t a size king, he had the girth and you vividly remember how he knocked the air out of your lungs when he pounded you into the mattress for the very first time. You roll your hips some more, chasing for the right friction to get you off, the camera still aimed at your face. 

“Then gimme a show at least,” you whine and put on a small pout which you know Naoya can never resist. If there’s anything Naoya loves, then it’s attention and praise, and he is way too easy to bait into whatever could offer him that.

“Oh, ‘m gonna give yer a show, baby. Gonna make ya regret not being here with me. I’d have ya drooling all over my cock if yer were here with me now,” he rattles. “Would spit in yer mouth, that’s how ya like it, dontcha?” 

The display turns dark and blurry for a moment, and you can practically feel the excitement from the other end of the line when Naoya props his phone up against something to have his hands free. He is so obedient at times, yet he would hate to hear that. For the first time today you get a glimpse of his face now, the pink of his tongue poking out slightly between his lips, his hakama pants hanging unfastened from his hips, his cock resting heavy on his thigh when he leans back.

“The shirt, too,” you demand. “Take it off.”

“Nah, too many buttons,” Naoya huffs and grips his cock again, making sure to angle it just right at the camera. Oh, how he wished you were on your knees before him right now. All the ways he’d mess you up. 

“Then pull it up at least. C’mon, put it in your mouth like I do it for you sometimes,” you coax him in your sweetest, sultriest voice. “I know you can be a good boy for me.”

Naoya’s hips yerk up slightly at the praise and he lets out a shaky breath, clearly trying to restrain himself from coming too fast. His resilience is crumbling so easily at the sight of your pretty face and he hastily grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, biting down on it to keep the fabric from sliding down again. One nice side effect of this was that with his mouth stuffed, he would shut up for once. 

“Mmm, yes. That’s it, so good, aren’t you?” you coo and have Naoya gripping his cock tighter, his movements getting sloppy. His abs contracted with every jerk of his hand, and soon he was whining and panting, legs spread apart so beautifully for your perfect view. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?”, you ask while grinding against your pillow, mesmerized by the sight on your display. Seeing a man like Naoya falter so easily at your words alone has you feeling a certain kind of arousal, pooling right in your stomach. 

It makes you want to wreck him entirely. 

Naoya nods and whimpers, using his free hand to play with his nipple piercing, all while his other pumps himself into a higher sphere. His hips are bucking and precum is drooling from his pink tip, making a mess out of him and amplifying the lewd sounds. 

He doesn’t last long, and when he cums thick white ropes fall onto his stomach, his mouth hanging agape. His cheeks are flushed and he mewls while he keeps stroking himself, milking every last drop out of him while chanting your name in a needy voice.

This. This might be your favorite sight ever. 

“Such a good boy. So good for me. Now bend over for me, hm? Show’s not over yet.”

[dreamymagnolia]

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ A Broken Brooch ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

zayne x fem!reader

Disclaimer: Hi! This is my first time using and posting a fanfic on this app, hopefully you’ll like it! English IS NOT my first language, so feel free to give me a feedback. Enjoy!

you’re in an arranged marriage with Zayne but everything seemed awkward between the two of you, and Zayne was thinking about getting closer to you

Genre: romance, slight angst to fluff

Warning(s): slight suggestive content (nothing too intense), misunderstanding

Word count: 2,5k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

After a long day of work, Zayne found himself parking his Audi in front of an antique shop, his heart heavy with an unfamiliar hope. He had been thinking about a certain vintage red dress his wife is fond of, and it was no longer on display. It had a dashing crimson color and was made of velvet, you used to stop and marvel at it whenever they passed this shop. It’s not like she asked him to buy it for her—like hell she would, they never had a conversation more than three sentences. An arranged marriage had its limitations, after all.

 “As a man, you must break the ice,” his father’s words continued to echo in his mind. Zayne grunted, he had thought this red dress could be a gesture to elevate their relationship, yet there he was. Deciding whether to purchase the dress for her or not took a considerable amount of time for him. Now that the dress was sold, he stood outside the shop, feeling lost.

Inside, he browsed through the remaining selection of dresses, disappointment creeping in as nothing caught his interest. “I guess, I’ll return home empty-handed then.” He thought, resigned to another monotonous evening between the two of them.

Just then, a woman walked in, her voice cutting through his thoughts. “Excuse me, Mrs. Wilson! Did you sell out the red dress that was on display? I have been saving for it for quite some time now.” 

“Unfortunately, yes, my dear, it was sold just today.” The elderly shopkeeper, a hint of regret in her smile.

The woman sighed, “I guess it wasn’t meant for me after all, my mama always said that I look horrendous in red, I wanted to prove her wrong!”

“Oh, I think you’d look stunning in red!” The clerk encouraged the woman, getting her another red dress. “This one has a different material, but it’s equally beautiful, and it comes with this lovely brooch.”

Zayne’s gaze was drawn to the brooch—it was an elegant shape of lily in gold that shimmered in the shop’s light. “That would suit her well.” He thought to himself, imagining how it would look on you.

“I love the lace,” the woman gasped, her disappointment fading. “But.. I don’t think I can pull off the brooch. Do I really have to buy this along with the brooch?”

“Yes, dear, I’m afraid so,” the clerk replied gently.

Without thinking, Zayne stepped forward. “I’ll take the brooch.” He pulled out a $100 bill and took the brooch swiftly, leaving both the clerk and the woman flabbergasted as he turned and left, the shopkeeper’s shout of “Sir! The brooch only costs $30!” faded behind him. 

As he drove back home, he only thought about one thing, this brooch will ‘break the ice’, determined that tonight would be different than any other night. They were husband and wife after all.

Upon entering the house, he was greeted by the warm aroma of dinner. You sat curled up on the couch, lost in a book. Zayne cleared his throat, anxiety bubbling beneath him.

“Hey.” he ventured, his voice tentative.

“Oh, hey.. you’re home. Welcome back.” you replied, your eyes briefly meeting his eyes before returning to your book.

Zayne nodded, feeling the familiar distance between them. “I made some dinner, your usual. It’s on the table.”  you glanced up at him only momentarily.

“Have you eaten some?” his voice was trembling, he tried his best not to sound nervous.

“No, I’m doing intermittent fasting.” you looked up at him, he could tell that there was a hint of surprise in her tone, Zayne had never shown such curiosity before.

“Right,” he said, walking towards the dining table. The food looked delicious, but it felt overshadowed by their silence.

Then Zayne walked into the bathroom in his room—yes, his room—they had been sleeping in separate beds for almost a month now. After changing into something comfortable, Zayne found himself staring at the brooch he bought earlier in his hand, he sighed as he tucked it in his pocket. As Zayne sat at the dining table, engrossed in his thoughts, he noticed that you were still reading your book in the living room. He leaned back on the chair, his eyes drifting back to his food. But his thoughts were far from the food in front of him. He was frustrated, why wasn’t he more engaging in their previous conversation? You had cooked a delightful dinner for him. He sighed quietly, his eyes fixed on the food, but his mind elsewhere. Zayne continued to eat the food, a silent battle going on in his mind. He knew his father wanted him to be closer to you, and sleeping in the same bed as a spouse was a common step in such scenarios. But before getting into that, he picked the brooch he had in his pocket, he held it up to the light hopefully it will help him to have longer conversations with you.

As you finished your book and walked toward your room, Zayne took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. He had to do this, he reasoned with himself. He couldn’t keep avoiding it forever. After washing the dishes, his mind made up. He headed towards your bedroom, his usual stoic demeanor now tainted with a hint of trepidation. Zayne reached the bedroom door, his hand pausing on the doorknob. He took another deep breath, reminding himself that it was just giving her the brooch, nothing more. With a final mental pep talk, he turned the knob and opened the door, stepping into the room, but froze at the sight before him—you were currently changing, you were wearing your nightgown, the top buttons were still undone, revealing a glimpse of her bare skin. He stood there in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat at the sight.

“Z- Zayne???” you stammered, and quickly fixed the buttons, your face flushing.

Zayne snapped out of his surprised daze as he heard you call his name. He quickly looked away, a hint of red tint on his cheeks.

“S- Sorry,” He muttered, clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean to—” He trailed off, still a bit flustered.

“Do you need something?” you asked, attempting to sound casual but failing to mask your surprise.

Zayne cleared his throat once again, regaining his composure. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his mind still a bit distracted by the sight he had just seen. “I was thinking.. I think it’s best for us to sleep in the same bed.” He blurted out. Wait, that wasn’t the plan— He thought to himself. Your eyes widened slightly at his suggestion, lips parting in surprise. It was too late for him to explain, she looked like she was thinking about it. He didn’t know what to expect – would you agree, or would you reject his idea?

“Sure.” you said slowly, catching him off guard.

Zayne was slightly taken aback by your unexpected agreement. He had mentally prepared himself for a possible rejection, but here you were, agreeing to his request. He let out a small sigh of relief, his tense shoulder relaxing a bit, but he wished that it could be more genuine.

“Okay.” His voice was a bit softer than usual. “I was thinking we could try it tonight.”

“Tonight?” you asked, your eyes widened in surprise and uncertainty.

Zayne nodded, “Yes, tonight.” His voice was firm and steady, despite the racing of his heart.

He took a step closer, his gaze fixed on you, and Zayne noticed the faint blush creeping across her cheeks. “I thought it might be.. nice, to sleep in the same bed and get closer, is that okay?” He explained, his cheeks slightly flushed. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for them, and he felt something stir in his chest—a flutter of hope.

You nodded slightly and hummed, “Okay..”

“I’m going to get ready for bed then..” He said, gesturing towards the bathroom, you nodded, a shy smile forming on your lips.

 In that moment, Zayne felt a flicker of something between them—a possibility, a chance for connection. With the brooch still in his pocket, he realized that breaking the ice might just lead to something beautiful.

 Inside the bathroom, Zayne brushed his teeth hastily, it didn’t go as he planned, yet he liked it?  He was feeling both anxious and confident. After finishing up in the bathroom, he splashed some cold water on his face, trying to cool down his flushed cheeks. On the other hand, you slumped onto the edge of the bed. Reconciling what just happened, you took a deep breath and instinctively grabbed your perfume and sprayed it on yourself. No, you weren’t trying to impress him tonight, it was just another part of your night routine, right? 

 Zayne opened the bathroom door, and your gaze instinctively drew to him. He took a better sight of you in your nightgown, it immediately made his heart rate quicken. You noticed that he was checking you out, you cleared your throat to mask your nervousness. He swallowed hard, taking in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the bed.

He took a step closer. “Ready for bed?” 

You nodded. Zayne felt a strange feeling wash over him as he got closer to you. The soft fabric of your nightgown and the intoxicating jasmine scent from your perfume wrapped around him like a warm embrace. He stopped right in front of you, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at you, mesmerized by the way your eyes glistened in the dim light. He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words, but they eluded him, tangled up in the electric air between you. You held his gaze, the air thickened in tension, you felt a mixture of excitement and fear swirl within you. You felt a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, and it pulled you in, inviting you to step into the unknown, you never thought that gazing up to his eyes this long could be this dangerous.

“Do you ever wonder how beautiful you look?” he murmured, his voice was low and hesitant, sending a shiver down your spine. The compliment hung in the air as your mouth was unable to form a word, feeling the tons of butterflies inside you.

Zayne leaned in, closing the distance, his breath warm against your skin. “Can I kiss you?”  he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, almost like a plea, filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty. You felt the world around you faded, all that mattered was him and the possibility ahead. You instinctively nodded slightly at his plea. 

Zayne’s gaze deepened with a mixture of desire and anticipation as you agreed to his request. He didn’t waste a moment, closing the small distance between you and pressing his lips against yours. The feeling was soft yet passionate, he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, his hand slowly going on the back of your head to pull you closer. You put your hands on his chest, one hand sliding gracefully behind his neck. Your mind was fogged, instantly blurring the reality of arranged marriage. Zayne cursed himself internally, how could he have ignored your alluring beauty for so long? 

As the kiss deepened, Zayne’s snaked his hand around your waist, their body moved in sync, making you lay on the bed. Suddenly, a loud clunk echoed on the floor, startling them both, causing them to pull away. It was the brooch, slipping off his pocket. He looked at you in panic, while you gave him a perplexed look. He withdrew from you and picked up the brooch from the floor, letting a heavy sighed in disappointment.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, concerns creeping your voice. You sat on the bed and your gaze wandered at the glimmering thing on his hand, “What is that?”

He held out a delicate lily-shaped brooch in gold, and sat beside you, but you noticed that one of its petals was slightly loose and scratched. 

“It was meant for you, I intended to give you this.. I thought it would suit you perfectly, but now it’s ruined.” his voice was laced with a sense of resignation.

“Did you buy it from the antique shop nearby?” you recognized the brooch,

“How did you know?” 

You chuckled softly. “I just bought a dress from them today, and I saw this brooch clutched on another dress.”

“A dress? Was it the red velvet one?” 

“Yes.. How did you know?”

He sighed in defeat. “I’m sorry.. (Y/N).”  he rubbed his jaw, “I was about to buy you that dress so we can get closer, and the fact that it was sold today.. I had to think of another option, so I bought this brooch. Looks like you were one step ahead of me after all.” he confessed, caressing your cheek gently.

Your eyes widened slightly, “But..” you muttered.

“But?”

“I thought you didn’t like me,” you admitted.

 Zayne’s brow furrowed in disbelief “Whatever gave you that idea?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Because we’re in an arranged marriage..” you replied, your voice tinged with vulnerability.

“Yes, we’re in an arranged marriage,” he said, his tone a bit softer now. “But I don’t see the reason not to like you, and I’m not the type to lie. I do like you.” 

“Since when?” you asked, a hint of hope in your voice making your heart race.

“It was gradual, I’ve been noticing you for longer than I care to admit, even way before the wedding.”

“I never noticed it before, why didn’t you ever say anything? ” 

“I didn’t want you to notice, I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same, and it might make things awkward between us. I’m sorry.” he admitted, a faint smile of remorse forming on his lips.

“Nonsense, I would love to see it more.. I liked you from the beginning, but you always seemed so distant and cold, so I assumed you didn’t like me.” you brushed your fingers against his cheek gently. Zayne leaned in to your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of your touch. 

“You.. liked me from the beginning?” 

You nodded. 

“I’m such a fool,” he grunted. He couldn’t believe he had been oblivious to your feelings for so long.

“It’s fine, it’s an arrangement after all.”  Zayne shook his head slightly, his gaze meeting you again.

“No, it’s not fine,” he said firmly, closing the distance, his hands resting on your hips, he continued, “It feels like a waste to let these feelings go unacknowledged.” he rested his head on your shoulder.

“What do you mean?” 

Zayne exhaled, locking your gaze, gently pulling you closer. “If I had noticed your feelings sooner, we could have had a genuine relationship, not an arranged one, but looks like.. we can start over?” he smiled genuinely. 

You felt warmth bloom in your chest as you chuckled and nodded, “Yes,” you pecked his cheek, “I would like that.” Zayne felt his heart flutter, “You’re making this easy for me,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of relief and affection as he leaned for another kiss, but before he could close the distance, he added, “Your cooking was amazing,” you giggled in his embrace.

݁

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[theemporium]

okay okay blurb concept: what do you think ab Oscar on a blind date? maybe Lando set him up with someone?

you ask and you shall receive🫡i hope i did it justice!!🫶🏽

.

This was a stupid idea. 

In fact, it was an incredibly stupid idea for a multitude of reasons, but three in particular played in Oscar’s head on a loop as he drummed his fingers against the table, mocked by the empty seat across from him. 

The first reason was the fact Lando fucking Norris was the mastermind behind the whole thing. In all honesty, he didn’t remember the last time the Brit had a genuinely good idea outside of racing and car improvements. He wasn’t even sure how Lando made him agree, though he wondered if he had hit his head off something and forgot about the whole thing.

The second reason was that it had been a dreadfully long time since Oscar had been on a date. It was embarrassing enough that he couldn’t even remember his last date, let alone remember whether it hadn’t ended badly or not. But it definitely didn’t help that this was the first one in possibly years, and he hadn’t even played a part in planning the damn thing if the fancy restaurant Lando chose said much.

The third reason was that despite Oscar almost begging his teammate, the boy had refused to tell him who he was actually attending a date with. It’s all a part of the fun, mate, Lando had said to him with a big smile. Never heard of a blind date? It’s romantic and shit.

But nothing about the whole set up felt romantic in the slightest.

Lando had tried to reassure the boy on his drive to the restaurant. He had wanted to arrive early, to settle himself and feel like he had some control on the situation even if he really didn’t. Lando had been insistent that the girl he set him up with was just his type, but it was a little hard to believe that when Lando had also been the reason Oscar had a stripper show up on his door to celebrate the end of the last season.

A gift Lando was also insistent that he would have enjoyed. 

So now, Oscar was sat by himself in a fancy restaurant, almost twenty minutes early and looking absolutely pathetic as he sipped his glass of water and resisted the urge to scoff down the complementary breadsticks lying in the basket in front of him. He had given the waiter so many strained smiles, he was worried they were going to kick him out soon if he didn’t order something that actually cost money.

His eyes shifted down to glance at his phone, his fingers itching to reach out and dial Lando’s number again. The sickening feeling in his stomach was only growing, the anxiety bubbling inside him the longer he waited and he was honestly tempted to scrap the whole thing and lock himself in his apartment for a few days before he could face the real world again. 

And yet, before he could even unlock his phone, someone paused by his table and a voice called out his name. 

“Oscar?” 

His head snapped up, any semblance of a reply quickly leaving his mind as he openly gaped at you. You were gorgeous, beyond anything he could even imagine. Not that he cared much for looks or thought Lando would set him up with someone horrendously ugly but…fuck, he wasn’t expecting someone as pretty as you. 

And suddenly he was nervous for a million other reasons. 

“Sorry, are you not Oscar?” You continued after a few moments of silence, a look of embarrassment crossing over your face as you moved to take a step away from the table. “I’m so sorry, I could have swore you looked like the photo my friend sent me—” 

“No!” He blurted out as he quickly stood up, his chair screeching against the floor as he did. “No, I mean, yes.” Your confusion only grew. “I mean…I’m Oscar.” 

“Oh,” you said and something in your face brightened as you extended your hand to the boy, offering your name in response. “It’s lovely to meet you, Oscar.”

“Yeah, you too,” he supplied lamely, frowning a little at himself before he cleared his throat. “Uh, can I get you something? I mean, not me. I meant like I could call the waiter for you and you could order. But I should probably let you look at the menu first so—” And fuck, he didn’t think he had ever spoken this much in one go ever. 

But your giggle cut him off as you smiled at him. You glanced around, noting the high-end restaurant that you knew Lando probably got a kick out of picking before your gaze landed on the Aussie once again. 

“Can I be honest?”

Oscar nodded his head vigorously.

“This doesn’t look like your kind of scene,” you said to him, and Oscar could feel his cheeks burning.

He shrugged. “I really don’t mind—”

“It’s not mine either,” you added, something almost mischievous shining in your eyes. “But there is a really cool arcade about fifteen minutes away that do really good burgers if you’re interested.”

And it wasn’t Oscar’s fault that he couldn’t bite back the massive grin on his face. “That sounds perfect.” 

And maybe—just fucking maybe—one of Lando’s plans had worked out far better than anyone ever assumed.

.

[onceuponastory]

one single word - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: In a world where the first thing your soulmate says to you is somewhere on your body, Y/N soon realises that hers is not what she expected... or what she wants. (Soulmate!AU). Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Just some swearing and reader worrying she's going to end up alone. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is my piece for @lunarbuck's Soulmate AU writing challenge! Congrats on 2k! Also can't believe it took me so long to use a pic of Seb from this day because he looked SO GOOD. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Has your word shown up yet? Just got mine!” Wanda’s text comes in. Groaning, Y/N types back a reply.

“Yup.” Immediately, Wanda sends another.

“It’s that bad? I’ll be straight over.” She promises, and Y/N goes back to staring at herself in the mirror, unable to tear her gaze away from the word which is now on her side. From a young age, Y/N and everyone else in this world were told that when they got older, the first words their soulmate said to them would soon appear on their body somewhere, disappearing only when they met the soulmate in question. And of course, it led to a lot of excitement and nervous apprehension as people wondered what words would be there, and imagined what scenario they’d meet their soulmate in. 

None more so than Y/N. As she grew up, she became an author, which meant that writing loving words about others became her job, and something she now has a huge amount of experience in. All day every day, she writes paragraph after paragraph of people describing how beautiful their partners are, how much their heart beats whenever they’re around, and how they want to spend the rest of eternity with them. And the entire time, Y/N’s own soulmate is in the back of her mind, as well as her hope that their first meeting is as romantic as her stories. So obviously, Y/N had grown to expect that the words - her words - that her soulmate would end up having on their skin would be something beautiful, like poetry.

Unfortunately for Y/N, though, it seems her soulmate didn’t have the same consideration for her.

Because there, on her side, emblazoned in huge letters is one single word. “Fuck.” “It’s not that bad.” Wanda soothes as she studies the word. Thankfully, she showed up soon after receiving Y/N’s text for moral support. 

“Yes, it is! Today I wrote someone saying their lover’s eyes are as bright as the stars, and with them they feel whole. And do I get that? No, I get ‘Fuck!’”

“Maybe he’s saying ‘Fuck.’ but then he says ‘you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen’?”

“Or it could be ‘fuck’ because they stepped on my toes. Or maybe they dropped coffee on me? Or-” Y/N shakes her head, trying to shake herself out of her panic. Yet, it only intensifies. “And besides, it’s such a general word! What if I get confused and think someone else is my soulmate?”

“That isn’t going to happen. Personally, I think we have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.”

“You’re such a romantic, Wanda.”

“Says you.” She rolls her eyes. When Y/N freaks out a little again, Wanda shushes her with a gentle: “Calm down. You’re going to give me a headache at this rate. And besides, it could be worse! Mine is ‘Hello there’. What even is that?!” she groans, taking another sip from her drink.

“Oh please, yours is suave and sophisticated.” Y/N argues. “Maybe it’s a ‘Hello there.’” She mimes a smirk, looking Wanda up and down. “And then he says, ‘may I just say that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?’”

“Either that or they’re doing a horrendously bad Obi-Wan Kenobi impression.” Wanda counters, making her and Y/N dissolve into fits of giggles. “But seriously. You don’t know what causes him to say that. Nobody does. That’s the beauty of soulmates.” She grins reassuringly. “And besides, I’m sure it’ll be a funny story to tell your kids one day.” 

And for a while, her reassuring words worked, and Y/N's feelings about the word permanently inked onto her side improved slightly. But the longer time went on without meeting her soulmate, Y/N started to think they don’t exist at all. And what’s worse, she’d be stuck with this single word on her side for the rest of her life, an enduring reminder of her failure to find her true love.

A few months later,

Y/N walks down the street, preoccupied by her phone call. Her publisher has been ringing her almost every day this week, desperate to know when they can expect her next manuscript. The same manuscript that’s been sitting incomplete on her laptop for the last several months. Understandably, love hasn’t been high on the list of Y/N’s priorities ever since she realised what her soulmate’s first word to her was. 

When she catches sight of herself in a shop window, noticing the hem of her sweater has ridden up, exposing the k and most of the c of the word on her side, it makes her feel worse. Of course, she still hasn’t found her soulmate. Nothing like yet another reminder of how you’re failing in life. Quickly rolling down her sweater, covering the word that seems to be burned into her skin by this point, Y/N keeps walking. In a last-ditch attempt to find some productivity and get this fucking manuscript finished, she’s decided to visit her favourite coffee shop. That and she just really wants an iced coffee. 

“When…if I ever find my soulmate, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.” She huffs, reaching out to grab the door handle to the coffee shop. Before she can open it, the door slams open, almost hitting her in the face. Luckily, Y/N manages to dodge the figure that almost crashes into her. This is the last fucking thing she needs right now. She rounds on the man, ready to give him a piece of her mind, to ask him, no, demand that he looks where he’s going next time, and be careful!

That’s what she wanted to say. What she should’ve said.

The beautiful pair of blue eyes she suddenly finds herself staring into stops her. As blue as the sky on a gorgeous summer's day, as blue as the ocean, inviting her into their depths. This man is gorgeous. His muscles bulge out through the blue shirt (the same colour as his eyes) he has opened over a vest top. His brunette hair is pulled into a man bun, a few loose tendrils sticking out. The man’s eyes widen as he takes her all in, realising how close he came to spilling his coffee all over her. 

And then he speaks.

“Fuck.” He murmurs, his voice just loud enough for her and only her to hear. Immediately, Y/N registers her heartbeat stop.

“What did you just say?” She gasps. Instead of repeating his words, the man’s eyes widen even more, almost bulging out of his head. He rolls down the sleeve of his shirt, displaying the slowly fading words printed on his shoulder. 

“What did you just say?”

“Does yours say ‘fuck’, by any chance?” The man chuckles, still clearly in shock, and wordlessly, Y/N nods, lifting her sweater to show him.

“Oh, my god.” They both speak at the same time. The man holds a hand out, which Y/N shakes. “I’m Bucky. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Nervously he rubs the back of his neck, and Y/N notices a burst of pink spreading across his cheeks. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous?” He stammers a little. “Sorry, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to say right now. It’s not everyday you meet your soulmate.”

“We have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.” Wanda’s words echo in her mind, and Y/N’s shock turns into a smile, all thoughts of giving her soulmate a piece of her mind gone as quickly as the word on her side. At first she brushed Wanda’s words aside, but she’s actually totally right. Being with Bucky, it finally feels right. Like the missing pieces she’s spent so long looking for are finally in place.

“I know.” Y/N nods. “But it’s completely understandable. To be honest, I’m still in shock too. I’m Y/N by the way.” 

"Y/N." Bucky smiles.“I am sorry for almost spilling my coffee over you.” He chuckles, and Y/N giggles. 

“Already forgotten about.”

“I, um, I need to head off, but how about we grab some dinner tonight?” Bucky grins. “We have a lifetime to catch up on.” 

“Sounds wonderful.” Y/N smiles.

It may not have been the most perfect meeting… at least, not compared to her romance novels, but Y/N doesn’t care. Because it turned out to be perfect for her.

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[mammalsofaction]

Missing You

Rating: T

Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus, Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota

Add tags: Takes place between Escape and Milo in Space, Perryshmirtz centric, human Perry the Platypus, post break up arc, post confessional and apology, making up and making out in an open plan room with pre teens in them, everything is good and going right and will go absolutely horrendously wrong in a couple of moments, if you ignore the fact that they're all looking for a pre-teen abducted by aliens you can pretend this is fluff, OLD MAN YAOI!!!!!!!!!!, simp Perry, I was only meant to hurt you in the right way 🥺

"How did you know we were here, anyway?"

Perry had not exactly been hiding, but he feels found anyway, his smile involuntary as a kid who finds himself caught in game of tag in a school playground. Heinz approaches him carefully, arms tucked behind his back like he's keeping himself in check, so Perry stills himself, remembering that it isn't quite his place to reach out now, not anymore.

Carl, he signs--the C sign blending into the leader sign, pinching the tips of his left hand with the curl of his right. Heinz let out a little Ah, noise, and his eyes downcast. Like he's disappointed.

There is silence between them, as it rarely ever is, and rarer still the awkwardness in the air as they think of all the words they should be saying, that should be said, and how to say them. Perry consoles himself with the fact that Heinz had at least yet to leave, but he leaves a gap between them like a gulf Perry isn't sure how to bridge.

It isn't often that Heinz Doofenshmirtz is ever lost for words, so Perry--as he always does--meets him in the middle.

Did you get my card? He asked, because he needed to know. Because he'd worried about it endlessly since he'd sent it, because it had kept him awake at night, thinking if it was too much, or too little.

But Heinz smiles by the mention of it, baby blue eyes sparkling under the alien fluroscence, and all at once it was worth it.

"That you sent through Vanessa?" Heinz chuckles, confirming. "Foul of you, Perry the Platypus, using my daughter to send our messages back and forth like some sort of owl postman. She's got better things to do with her time, you know."

He did know. Vanessa had consented anyway, had in fact been loudly enthusiastic with the idea once she found out about their current disagreement, and had loudly scolded Perry for being a 'Dumbass idiot who shouldn't be keeping things to himself when they've all established the fact that communication was what kept this relationship from falling apart despite literally both of your entire careers.'

Having only sent the one card had been an act of restraint. On his worst nights, Perry had imagined breaking into the Murphy residence on the other side of town and crawling on his knees for forgiveness, but even after all this time, he was still too afraid of showing his belly even to the people he loved.

I did, you know, he tells him, because he couldn't let himself be vulnerable then, and the next best time was now. Miss you.

"Yeah," Heinz said. "I-uh. I missed you too. Probably Vinnie could tell. The kids, too."

Vinnie, huh? Perry teased, to hide the sudden heartache, and that all too familiar snarl of jealousy. Didn't realize you guys were on a first name basis.

Heinz gives him a look like he could tell, anyway. Perry pulls at his collar, blushing.

Sorry, he signs.

Heinz sighs. "It's whatever. We were just two lonely guys looking to distract ourselves from our missing other halves, I suppose."

Perry chooses to latch on to the latter half of that sentence. I'm your other half?

Heinz stares at him, his hands, then back into his eyes. "You're kidding, right?"

I didn't think, Perry's hands flutter, and fails him. I thought you'd, I thought I'd really,

But then it didn't matter what he couldn't say, because Heinz bridges the gulf himself, and Perry feels the kiss, before he'd even caught his move, and even after all this time their lips fit together like puzzle pieces, and Perry falls forward like a broken stone wall.

Missing you, he had written on the card, because it had been the most accurate plead he could think of. You were missing from me.

It's deep, but brief, on account of being met with a chorus of loud protests and jeers from their unwilling audience, and Zack Underwood yelling loudly, and pointedly, that this spaceship was open plan, people, come on. Perry pulls away first, chuckling and feeling lighter than he has for months, while Heinz rolled his eyes. He does not, at least, take his hand away now that it has settled into Perry's hip, and he feels so happy he could die. He buries his face into Heinz's shoulder as he scolds the children for interrupting an adult conversation, while Melissa Chase comments lightly that, technically, the bathroom was closed off.

"Bathroom for adult conversations, got it." Dakota quips, and Cavendish hits him over the head without even looking up from where he's handling the ship's hull control.

"I'm 14!" Underwood shrieks in an impressive high tone as Perry begins to laugh. Poor stranded boy in space aside, he thinks things are really starting to look up.

[blankwashed]

shattered.

tw: (one swear word)

you didn't believe it to be true. it wasn't possible. the both of you had two children together, megumi and tsumiki. they were both bright students, always polite and wonderful children. never you had thought that their father would hide such truths from you.

toji fushiguro, the man you had given everything to. your body, your time and your heart. he became the center of your universe and yet...he chose to betray you. the pain in your gut made you want to throw up.

maybe it wasn't who you thought it was?

maybe it was his sister?

the sound of the door opening shut brought you back to where you were standing. toji, exuding his usual confidence walked in. his eyes met yours, biting his lower lip, confusion was plastered on his face.

"what happened, doll?" he asked.

you didn't respond immediately, you couldn't. you were afraid to spew out allegations that might not be true. your mind was tangled in a web of uncertainty and betrayal. instead all you did was to grab the phone and showed him the messages, all from a single person, a person who he named as "❤️".

his eyes bulged, his jaw tightened and the gears in his brain were processing the situation. "it's not what it looks like doll," he began, but as his words flew out of his mouth, you could feel that he wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.

"then what is it, toji?" you demanded, your voice breaking. "tell me what it is, because from what i've read, it looks like you've lied to me. cheated on me, all this fucking time..." you said as you scrolled through his messages with her.

his silence was deafening. the anger and betrayal simmered inside you, boiling over the words you had never imagine saying. "how could you do this to us?! to me?! the children we have! after all we've been through, have you ever thought, just one second that you'd be throwing all of this away?!"

toji took a step closer to you, pushing a stray hair back behind your ear, "doll..".

"don't doll me. don't come any closer. i don't even know who you are anymore."

"please, just let me explain." he pleaded. "it was a one time thing, i don't know why she kept texting me. and trust me doll, i was thinking about you the entire time. i just had to get it out my system.."

shaking your head, with ugly horrendous tears running down your cheeks, "i trusted you, toji. i gave you a chance, a chance to prove to me that you're different. and you threw it all away for what?! just one night with someone else?!"

he looked down, unable to meet your gaze, and the sight broke something inside you. this was the man you had thought you'd spend your life with, drinking tea at the porch when both of your kids would be working. laughing with each other while staring at the sky.

"i never meant to hurt you doll, i told you, its just a one time thing. satoru. satoru was the one who talked me into it!" he tried to defend himself once more and even trying to push the blame onto his co-worker.

"actually," you started "if you'd truly love me, you'd tell your useless friend to bug off. now, you hurt me more than i ever thought was possible."

the silence stretched between you, a hole dug too deep to be repaired. you wiped at your eyes, trying to compose yourself, but the pain was too raw like a knife cutting through your heart.

"i think you should leave," you finally said, your voice trembling. "let me think over what should be done now, where the kids should stay."

as the door closed behind him, another flow of tears came down your cheek. you sank to the floor, your body wracked with grief.

hours passed, you were still sprawled on the floor, lips chapped, stomach empty and heart shattered.

finding his jacket draped over the back of a chair, you went against your mind, clinging on to the fabric. memories came flooding back to you - nights where you spend wrapped in his arms, the cute little smooches you'd give his scar and promises of forever. all of that now thrown in the trash.

why? the question screamed in your mind. were you not enough? were you getting ugly? after giving him 2 kids, were you considered ugly?

you fell on your bed, the sanctuary for both of you where many memories were made. many firsts but now it all look like lasts to you. curling into a ball, clutching his jacket as if it were a soft toy, you wished it could somehow bring the old him back.

sleep took over your body after you were out of tears. the betrayal cut deeper with each passing minute, a wound that seemed impossible to heal

weeks later, you've found yourself healing. from the help of trust worthy friends, lots of binge-eating of ice cream and time for your hobbies. you were beginning to find a sense of peace, a fragile hope that perhaps one day, you'd be whole again.

megumi and tsumiki were still staying with you as you couldn't be so heartless to let them live with their father. after what he'd done to you, he looked as if he was the largest criminal wanted on earth to you.

"it's okay mama, you have us. we would never look for another mama," tsumiki said, while having her breakfast cereal.

a tear dropped from your eye. innocence. oh how you wished toji were as innocent as the both of your children.

suddenly, the doorbell rang, pulling you away from your thoughts. slowly, you made your way to the door, the weight of your heart on your shoulders. when you opened it, toji stood there, looking more broken than you'd ever seen him.

"please," he said through the grills of your door. "can we talk? just you and me."

you swallowed hard, the sight of both your children and their dirtbag dad. "i don't know if i can do this," you whispered, your voice trembling.

a hand came through the grill of the door, wiping your tears away. "i understand but i need you to know that i love you. i always have, and i always will.."

the words hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what he used to always remind you. you took a deep breath, the ache in your chest nearly unbearable. "i loved you too, toji. but after what you've done..not anymore."

he cupped your face gently with his hand, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to remember the warmth of his touch, the safety of his embrace. the cloud 9 that you always are on whenever he's with you. but then you stepped back, the distance between the both of you a reminder to yourself to treat yourself with more dignity.

"goodbye toji," you said softly. "i'll tell the kids you said hi and......take care of yourself. and her." you said as you closed the door on him.

you could only imagine what was happening behind the door. was he sobbing? was he feeling guilt? was he happy that he can finally leave you? your broken heart was heavy, mind too full of negative thoughts at that moment.

all, when the door closed.

[thewriters-world]

This clip reminds me of your fic so much. Vale being all charming and tongue in cheek but only Marc would feel the barb and know the storm waiting for after. What a little less of kisses when there were already so few could mean.

https://www.tumblr.com/kingofthering/730916896393854976?source=share

Journalist : "Question to Marc and Valentino : Have your relationship changed after the crash, the battle of Argentina ?"

Valentino : "I think... I will give to Marc less kiss from now. But in the bed, remains the same."

Marc : "No, no change."

OP I'm so sorry to get to this ask so late. BUT WTAF Valentino rossi. Gosh this is going to infiltrate my every thought for the next month or smth 😭. How are we the delusional ones when Valentino was saying stuff like this. The way I'm lowkey hurt rn, can't even imagine what Marc felt when Valentino said this. He literally hit Marc where it hurt.

Imagine, you're dating a man whose older than you, but he has been your role model, and he smiles at you, holds your hand so soft and sweet and you're in love (have been for years). And you think, you genuinely think that there's a chance that you can be *the one* even though people have warned you that he doesn't like it when you're fighting against him. But it doesn't matter because he loves you too, he has to, because why else does he invite you to his ranch to meet his *children* and why else does he hold your hand so gently so the love is there and you're only 22 you don't know toxic love yet, you don't know heartbreak just yet and you don't know betrayal. But then, one day, you're still in bliss because you woke up besides him and he kissed your forehead and snuggled against you. And this is the man who built the very institution you're dominating at the moment and in a few years' time, people won't know where rossi ends and marquez begins. And you're doing your job, and you think everything is okay because you're just doing your job and yh maybe you're pulling some risky moves and maybe you're pulling them against him but it's okay because he's the one who understands the most (but you cant help but feel that you're veering towards something that will ruin this).

And then he won't stop making barbed wired comments about you and he alludes to your relationship outside of your bedroom (he has all control) you feel your heart sink everytime you meet his eyes (and it shouldn't be like this) but he still kisses you and still holds you (even though it feels cold) so you let it play out even though you know it's going to end in heartbreak but you're 22 and naive and you think there is still a chance (maybe you don't know anything at all). And then he accuses you of something horrendous that it takes you're breath away, you have to stand under hot light as they take pictures of you with a shiny sheen in your eyes and you haven't even talked to him yet but you know this is the end. He built this institute so of course they nod along when he accuses you of aggressive moves that you learnt from him. And then suddenly no one can look you in the eye, his *children* don't like you and you don't understand how it happened (even thought they keep asking you as if you know all the answers).

But how are you to know human cruelty?

How are you to explain that one day you woke up and didn't feel warmth around you?

How can you know everything just a few months ago when you know nothing now?

You're only 22.

You're only 22.

You're only 22.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Pls do Yandere!Alucard part 3!! I love the others! 😍

Ask: Pls do Yandere! Alucard part 3!! I love the others! 😍

A/N: I’ve gotten two asks for Part 3, so here you go. Note: Here are [Part 1] & [Part 2]. And other Yandere! Alucard’s imagines can be found here.  

TW!: As always, this is a fictional work about a fictional character. Manipulation and abuse in real relationships are never okay, and it’s never your fault. If you need help, please click on any of these: [x] [x].

Oh and for some ambiance while reading, listen to this: [x]

* * *

It had been less than 24 hours since you and your father moved into Alucard’s castle. The journey itself was horrendous, with your father laying down in the back of a rented cart, coughing with every bump in the road. 

‘At least he agreed to come,’ you thought. 

Truth be told, your father was never keen on the help of strangers, and you suspected that much was still true. It must have been the delirium from his fever that encouraged him to consent to such arrangements. 

Alucard was kind enough to help you unload your belongings once you arrived at the castle. He even insisted on carrying your father to his new room. You thanked him profusely. It took all your strengths, your fathers and yours combined, to simply get him into the cart for the journey there; yet there Alucard was, carrying him as if your father weighed no more than a feather. 

Truthfully, you were rather surprised to see Alucard walking around in the daytime- a trait you thought vampires did not possess. It seemed the more time you spent with Alucard, the more you found yourself amazed at his physicality. 

Alucard had set your father up in a room exactly two floors above yours, citing contagion as a risk. Your room, you learned, was closer to Alucard’s own, just down the hall from it, should you ever need something in the later hours of the evening. 

“So, I take it you don’t sleep in a coffin then?” You asked him. 

“Not currently, no.” He answered rather plainly. “Although I have slept in one before.” 

You nodded, intrigued. “What was that like?” 

“Sleeping?” Alucard’s gaze lingered on the dark circles under your eyes. “It’s a wonderful human invention. Perhaps you should try it sometime.” 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “I sleep just fine,” you argued. “Besides, now that Father is here and I’m not the only one watching over him, I think I’ll sleep better. Does this mean you’ll take the first watch?” You teased back. 

“First watch?” Alucard stopped in his tracks. “Just what sort of creatures do you believe reside in this castle?” 

“No, I… What I meant was, for my father, I’d stay up with him at night, in the event he needed anything. Now that you’re here, I just assumed we would be taking turns.” You raised your hands defensively. “Of course, I don’t expect you to. I’m fine staying up with him by myself.” 

Alucard regarded you pitifully for a moment before he continued walking. “I have some tea in the kitchen,” he said. “Allow me to show you where that is.” 

Silently, you followed the tall blonde, wondering if you had said something to offend him. Perhaps your coffin comment? 

“Cozy.” The rich voice of your acquaintance brought you back to the present. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked. 

“The coffin,” Alucard repeated, descending the stairs, “It was rather cozy.” 

* * *

The castle itself seemed rather dreary and uninviting the first few times you had broken in. You supposed it was the nature of your entrance that colored it so because now, it most certainly transformed. Gone was the cold oppressive gray interior. 

Instead, you found yourself catching a glimpse of gloriously detailed bewitching pictorial carpets and paintings decorating the walls, luxuriant red carpet providing padding under your feet, and thick insulating curtains pulled open with pendulum tiebacks between every major room. It was a bit odd, to say the least. 

In addition to that metamorphosis, the dust and stale air seemed to have vanished as well. Perhaps, Alucard tidied up before you and your father’s arrival, but that seemed quite impossible; the castle was enormous, and a fortnight was certainly not enough time for him to have made such preparations. It would have taken days if not weeks to change the castle’s appearance. Surely, you must have been mistaken. 

Following Alucard to the kitchen, your curiosity got the better of you. 

“Are things… different, in here?” You asked. 

Alucard turned his head back to you, seeing your wandering eyes and interested expression. “No,” he waved off your amazement, “The castle has stayed the same way for years, cemented long before you arrived.” 

You nodded, frowning only a little bit. “It’s just I could’ve sworn-” 

“And here we are,” Alucard’s announcement cut you off. “This is the kitchen. One of them at least. It’s the only one I’ve frequented, anyhow.” 

You walked into a rather large-sized kitchen, with a tiled floor and two sets of iron-barred windows- one right over a large metal tub sink and another perpendicular from the first and centered so the light could shine on the main oak dinner table.  Across from that second window, near the entrance door, was a large cast-iron oven, set against a brick chimney. Nestled in the furthest corner of the room was a series of Welsh dressers and cabinets, stocked with plates, utensils, and other miscellaneous dinnerware. 

“It’s lovely,” you spoke, amazed. You were drawn to one of the Welsh dressers, noticing a set of brightly colored objects there. “What are these? Dolls?” You reached out to touch them. 

Alucard scooped them up before you could, and quickly shoved them inside one of the dresser’s drawers. “Those aren’t important, don’t worry about those.” 

“Oh, okay,” you said, biting your lip. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, it’s just,” you gestured to where the dolls were hidden, “I wasn’t going to make fun of you, you know.” 

Alucard walked over to the stove. “Oh?” He placed a kettle on one of the cooktops, before turning a knob and striking a match to ignite a small flame. 

“I have, or, had dolls from my childhood too. They’re probably falling apart at the seams back home somewhere,” you mused, “Or I might have lost them. Either way, it’s nothing to feel shame about.” 

Alucard swallowed harshly. “They were… they remind me of some old friends who are no longer with us.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You pulled out a chair from the table, opposite the side with the stove. “Did they live here as well?” 

Alucard nodded, retrieving a tea set from a different dresser. “For a short while, yes.” 

“What happened to them?” 

He shrugged, placing a fine pewter saucer and teacup before you. “The same thing that happens to all humans: they were born, they aged, they died. It's certainly not a novel concept.” 

At that moment you felt such sadness for him. You knew the castle was ancient, and you knew the stories of vampires began long before you were born, but you never bothered to ask Alucard his age, or where he fit in with the timing of all the local folklore. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you exactly?” You watched the slightest bit of a smirk grace Alucard’s face. 

“Old.” 

“‘Old’?” You echoed. 

“Older,” he said again for emphasis. 

“Older than me?” 

He nodded. 

“Older than my Father?” 

“Yes,” Alucard answered, drawing out the ‘s’ sound, in a soft hiss. 

Nervous, you picked up the empty teacup to admire it. The metallic pewter cup was rather dainty, with an impressive embossed pattern at both the top and bottom rims with an equally impressive embossed saucer to match. It was very pretty, and nothing like you had at home. 

You watched as Alucard poured the boiled water from the kettle into the large metal teapot on the table. The silence as he poured felt more and more suffocating as time went on. You suppose Alucard felt it too, seeing as how once the kettle was back on the cooktop, he was the one to initiate conversation. 

“You and your Father are close, I presume?” 

You nodded. “More so since my Mother and older Brother passed.” Seeing Alucard’s perplexed expression, you continued. “She died in childbirth, and my Brother, well, he joined her shortly after. That was a few years ago. My Father’s all I have left.” 

“Why haven’t you married?” 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re well of age.” 

“I-” you scoffed, momentarily lost for words. “Are you calling me old? I’m the youngest one here!” 

“You’re avoiding my question.” 

“I’m not obligated to answer.” 

Alucard said nothing, only picked up the pot and poured you a cup of steaming, freshly brewed tea. Again, the two of you sat in silence. 

Feeling less awkward with the silence this time round, you blew lightly over the rim of your cup before taking a tentative sip, careful not to burn your mouth. You then watched half in awe, half in horror as Alucard took a hearty sip, clearly unfazed by the scalding hot temperature. 

Seeing your appalled expression, Alucard chuckled a bit. “Another vampire trait.” 

“Is there anything that harms you?” You asked, incredulous. “You don’t burn up in sunlight, you’re not controlled by feral bloodlust around people, and just now with the tea, scalding water doesn’t phase you one bit.” 

“I do have weaknesses retained by vampires, yes. Just as I have vampiric strengths.” 

“How do you know which is which?” You asked, taking a sip of your tea, the temperature finally being low enough. 

“I’ve had years to experiment. Trial and error.” He answered.

“Yes, but if your trial went wrong, couldn’t you accidentally injure yourself?” 

“Better me than an enemy.” 

You nodded. “I suppose.” 

“What about you?” Alucard asked. “How long did you experiment before realizing you needed further help in curing your Father?” 

You thought back. “I didn’t do any experiments, I just tried everything I thought of to make him better. And I thought it worked, but then the sweats- 

“And the cough?” Alucard interrupted. 

“Yes, the cough returned. So I visited our wise woman and she sold me a tincture of wormwood and radish. It didn’t do anything. Well, it turned his skin red, but that’s about all. That’s why I came here. This place was my last hope.” 

Alucard did not comment on your desperation as he poured you more tea. 

“I’m truly grateful. Thank you,” you said, accepting the refilled cup. “Thank you for this,” you gestured to the tea, “And for this,” you said, gesturing broadly around you. 

Alucard brushed off your appreciation with a nonchalant wave of the hand. “It’s nothing.”  

You shook your head. “We had run out of options, what you’re willing to do, to try, it’s everything.” 

Alucard looked at you with his trademark melancholy expression. “As I said before, I believe I know what’s wrong with your Father, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make him well. But before we begin…” His hands reached out and clasped one of yours. 

You nearly jumped from the temperature difference. Your hands, having been warmed by the tea, felt like fire compared to his slender icy hands against your skin. 

“There are a few things you must know.” 

* * *

On the outside, Alucard played it cool, but on the inside, he was beaming. It had all been so easy! So easy to gain your trust, to gain your thanks. So much progress had been made and yet, he had learned your name just one week prior. You had relocated your belongings to a room in his castle, all transferred willingly, with no intention of removal anytime soon. Everything was working out better than he could have planned!

He was a bit hesitant to show you around the castle, having changed so many things. Then again, he assumed you’d be in too much of a state to notice. Castlevania was alive in and of itself, and he, as the inheritor of the estate, wielded a good amount of control over the living, breathing structure. The last-minute changes in decor were more of an afterthought on his part. Alucard truly didn’t mean to lie to you so blatantly, at least, not so soon after your arrival, but he had no choice. He feared that should he reveal he changed the entire castle’s decorum just to impress you, you would learn his feelings were much more intense than he was letting on. 

There was always a slim chance you’d feel flattered- a single woman such as yourself. Then again, in the past, Alucard recalled, his intentions were rarely well-received. It had been generations since he truly felt the love and affection of another, and it could be argued that those relationships formed solely out of proximity among Trevor’s, Sypha’s, and his destiny. With his Father vanquished, and the remaining group of supernatural beings continually shrinking in size, Alucard was further isolated as time went on. And it wasn’t just companionship he was missing. 

The longer Alucard existed alone in that castle, the less human he became; or rather, the less human he recalled how to be. That was also, partly, the point in changing up the castle, particularly the kitchen. He didn’t frequent it much, he had very little need to. Sure, he prepared food and ate on occasion, but as a dhampir, he needed very little to survive. Eating food was always more of a pleasure than a requirement. But then you were going to be living here, sleeping here, eating here. Things needed to be updated, for your usage. As a matter of fact, in his haste to have Castlevania conjure all the right things for you, he had forgotten to remove his newest addition of Trevor and Sypha dolls from the kitchen. It was a cruel trick on the castle’s part- knowing full well he wouldn’t approve of such items in his design, and yet, the castle left them anyway. It was embarrassing, and a further reminder of how rushed so many aspects of his plan were. Then again, you seemed to find it rather endearing. So perhaps, in the end, the visages of his long-lost friends worked in his favor. 

Besides, he was able to regain the upper hand, thanks to his question about your lack of a spouse. He hadn’t meant for it to come off as teasing, although, in a way, he later found he was glad it did. It brought an air of familiarity to your conversation, one that wasn’t present before. He… liked it. He liked it a lot. 

The two of you were still very much strangers, but things were most certainly moving in the right direction. 

Of course, the one sore spot in all of this was the state of your Father. Alucard wouldn’t call his prognosis hopeless, but it was certainly headed in that direction. It was clear from the moment the two of you had arrived, judging by your Father’s feverish and exhausted body in the back of that run-down cart, that there was little he as a physician could do to treat him. Even his Mother, the great Doctor Tepes would have been forced to face the harsh reality that there was little any doctor could do to secure this patient’s fate- either living or dead. In cases like these, fate seemed to hang on the wind, one swift blow in either direction could have your Father miraculously recovering, or being laid to rest. 

Then again, he had no intention of telling you that. You didn’t need to know. All you needed to know was that as long as your father was still breathing, Alucard was doing everything within his power to save him. The only thing he needed from you was your continued trust. As long as he had that, everything would work out perfectly. 

* * *

A/N: WHY DID THIS TAKE ME SO LONNNNGGGG?????? UUUGGGHHHH. 

Anyway, Part 3 is here! Yea! Maybe three months from now, there’ll be a Part 4, lol. The Ask Box is still currently closed to requests, but comments and critiques (and fellow fangirling) are always welcome! (No fr, tell me how you feel about Alucard cuz I love him & it has become a full-blown problem.) 

Oh, and because I’m not a doctor or an expert of any kind, I used these links for figuring out what tuberculosis looked like in the 14th century: [x], [x] & [x]. And here’s where I read up on old-timey medicine: [x].

Links about TB: 

Britannica Encyclopedia: https://www.britannica.com/science/tuberculosis/Tuberculosis-through-history

TB Online: https://www.tbonline.info/posts/2016/3/31/how-tb-infects-body-tubercle-1/

Latent tb vs tb disease (The CDC): https://www.cdc.gov/tb/topic/basics/tbinfectiondisease.htm 

Old Timey Medicine: https://www.abdn.ac.uk/sll/disciplines/english/lion/medicine.shtml 

[beautifulpersonpeach]

BPP what is your honest view on Jimin biases?

***

A lot of y'all are down bad for that man. Down something horrendous my goodness.

Not that I blame you though.

*

Btw, I was watching fancams with friends again last night and we played this one:

How does he move the way he does? /gen. You can see the strength he infuses into every move, down to his fingertips when he dances.

Do you see that form?

(???)

There are many dancers in k-pop who impress me, some I'd place in the best dancers globally, but Jimin is easily the top ranked in nearly every category IMO, no matter the context. He's a real artist. It's not in him to half-ass a performance, no matter his condition. He gives his all and that's something that both inspires and troubles me about him.

I don't even bias him and Jimin induces some insanity in me from time to time. It's just what he is. Nobody who pays attention to him can react normally to him, everyone gets drawn disproportionately to him. Imagine how tiring that must be for him to know sometimes. And no offense to Jimin biases but I genuinely believe you have to be a little bit off kilter to be able to commit to being chosen by him.

Because Jimin is the sort of person you need... space to love.

Jimin is..

Jimin uses whatever misalignment is in you, eases his way into you to fix that offset, remove that imbalance. The way he is... when you fall under his effect it's like he takes up space inside you. As though he deserves and will take nothing less. In my honest opinion that's one way I perceive him. But then you open your eyes and realize the man is the softest marshmallow, a kind and truly measured person with exceptional emotional and practical intelligence. A Slytherin to the bone, a living shape-shifter, so attuned and sensitive to everything.

And he doesn't really demand anything. He's just so loved people want to commit to supporting him. His charismatic idol persona is just as attractive as his naturally shy but mischievous personality off the clock. It really doesn't get much more perfect than this for any celebrity ever.

Like, sometimes I wonder if Jimin goes to bed at night fearing he might one day destroy k-pop. In real practical terms. I wonder if Jimin agonizes over the fact that he's the most dangerous person in the industry. Knowing him, he probably doesn't but it's still something that as I've said before, needs to be said.

(Between you and me, I think he's yet to come to terms with it. Poor lad.)

Anyway, Jimin biases are actually in love with the man and I'd like to present some evidence both as a self-confession, and in support.

Exhibits

(...)

*

(Do you remember where you were the first time you noticed he has a dimple?)

*

(His look for this shoot is criminally underrated. He had easily the best chic styling for any idol in 2021.)

*

(Orange, yellow, and bright mustard are all good colours on him.)

*

(Yeah.... he's something else.)

*

Alright, now that I've answered this one, that's enough of the Jimin bias asks for now. I'll be ignoring all the rest for the next while.

Remember to keep streaming. :)

[blkkizzat]

Kaliiii, just think with me

Former babysitter reader. Four and a half months pregnant and having now dropped down to a part-time college student cause with baby on the way you're nesting.

Yuji is so excited to be an uncle. He keeps bragging about it to his friends. You are pampered. Neither he nor choso will let you lift a finger. They spoil you like a princess. Yuji always offers to carry any bag you have. Chosocooks. Cleans and practically worships the ground you walk on. And he's obsessed with the bumb. He kisses it every morning because, let's be real, you've practically moved in already. Half your shit is at his place.

He spends every free moment inside you too. He doesn't wanna be anywhere else. Y'all Falling asleep and he's still inside you. You complain a bit, "that's how we got this one " you say, pointing at your obvious belly. And he just mumbles something about practicing for the next one.

He does not discuss you two becoming engaged with you. You wake up one day, and his ring is on your finger. Two days later, the marriage registration form is on the kitchen counter. And you have yet to see this man. When you finally find him and ask him, "What the hell?" He just says it's a good idea. And emphasizes that you never have to work again if you don't want to, and you can focus on 8 y.o Yuji and the baby.

And he just sounds so logical. It makes so much sense. So you say yes.

Little do you know you're about to be literally Mother. You aren't sure how many kids you wanted originally but Believe me Choso wants more. And you are just happy to make him happy.

He is just determined to keep you from having to work as a babysitter ever again.-🧠

The wayyyyy u have influtrated my brain with this 🧠 babes!!!

FHIFSKHDSJHVKB NOT HIM GETTING US PREGGO (we knew it was gonna happen just a matter of time)

Lil' Yuji is the cutest!! Urgh thats always my fav part about these Choso AUs is you get to be like big sis/mommy to Yuji <3333

Omg Choso would be obsesssed with the bump I imagine him like rubbing oil/shea butter over your belly so you don't get/minimize stretch marks. When he isnt inside you, he's on top of you, gently resting his head to hear any movement he can and talking to the baby 24/7.

"He does not discuss you two becoming engaged with you. You wake up one day, and his ring is on your finger."

KDLJASIUHFA SCREAMMING HE IS SIIIIICK!!! Lmfao I love that man he is so fucking crazy and down horrendous when hes in love.

You know he would totally take care of you!!

Omg when you finally started lactating though, you gonna have to physically pry that man off yo tiddies. Choso loves you, and he loves his new baby but he might love yo leaky tits the best. lmfaooo he's gonna pout so bad when you tell him to save some for the baby. you gonna have the baby on one boob and his big ass on the other fcuhskhasdkjhaskja. its not even sexual he just likes the taste/comfort.

"He is just determined to keep you from having to work as a babysitter ever again."

You know he found out about Gojo and was like FUCK THAT and got your pregnant QUICKLY!!! Locked that shit downnnn. Especially when Gojo said "im not worried, she'll have mine next~~" Choso would kill him jhdsjasdhkhagsd.

HOLY SHIT —PAUSE— You just gave me such a good idea for an AU fic dhfkjadshfadshauhdfadkugyfhv. BLESS YOU!!!!!! Oh mannnnn the brainworm!! (so its basically an AU but Choji x reader, choso x toji x reader, where reader is yuji and megumi preschool teacher and they both are like fighting over you fjdjfhdskjsdfh. imma write that omfgggg imma write that)

This was such a good breakfast 😩💗

[beanibon]

I've been reading your publications lately! I love them all!

And I read your time list, I saw that you write about kaisen jujutsu too, but then I thought, wow, a crossover between kaisen jujutsu and Trigun would be cool.

ANDSo, you could write a reader that could possibly be gojo's sister and accidentally during a battle against a curse, the reader stops in norman's land, Since it would be cool to see the reaction of Vash, Knives and Nicholas with the reader who is a Jujutsu sorcerer

Ooooooh! Absolutely, I haven't watched JJK in a hot minute and I need to rewatch for the newest season so if some of my terminology is a bit wonky I do apologise in advance.

Warnings: Not any really, maybe some blood warning in Knives part cause he's Knives. And maybe an asshole warning for Knives too.

Context: reader has a curse that allows her to bring certain fake replicas from other dimensions through, but a failed domain expansion ends them in the middle of an unknown dimension. Reader is Gojo's sister :3

Jujustu Kaisen Reader Isekai

You had convinced Gojo you could handle a Grade 1 curse by yourself, finally happy to break free from his overbearing mission babysitting. Yet your childish older brother made you pinky swear to call the moment things went belly up, but you couldn't hate the way he just wanted you to be safe. Even though it did piss you off at times.

Yet what you haven't expected was the Special Grade curse awaiting you, no Grade 1 in sight as this flailing creature of limbs and teeth gnashed its horrendous form towards you. It had you startled as you struggled against the power of the curse, yet it left no opening to call for any kind of help.

Once you managed the call, Gojo picking up instantly, you had no time to talk as excruciating pain exploded on the side of your body. That's what triggered it, the domain expansion that swallowed you and that wretched curse, worlds flashing by you as this thing screeched trying to reach you.

When the sky opened, sun bright and burning hot did the Curse flee as you descended into the sandy desert below.

You can imagine Vash's shock when you collided into him from out of nowhere, falling from the sky as crushed him under your unexpected weight.

This poor man confused, now in pain and groaning as he struggled to sit up only to realise that some oddly dressed woman faceplanted comically into his chest. What was more confusing was he was in the middle of nowhere, so your appearance was even more bizarre.

Vash was very patient the moment you gained your composure, panicking at the unfamiliar terrain, the unfamiliar man who was probably sprouting a face sized bruise on his chest.

He was very confused once you calmed enough to explain who you were and how you theorised you came here, not understanding what curses were, or domain expansions or anything that you said. Vash simply just smiled and nodded, though you knew this equivalent of a golden retriever had no clue what you were saying.

It had been a few months now since falling into the arms of your blonde companion, following Vash in his journey of constant misfortune. Every chance you got, if Vash's ridiculous bounty didn't have you scrambling away from raining bullets, you attempted to return to your home. But no matter how hard you tried it seemed as if your domain expansion just didn't want to cooperate, fizzling into existence only to dimish seconds later.

After what felt like the millionth attempt, you screamed, picking up Vash's neglected glasses and ditching them a fair way into the sandy wasteland. A sigh was heard behind you, before Vash went after his glasses, a half eaten can of stew on his hands.

For nights Vash witnessed your desperate attempts, angry tears and homesickness, he felt helpless at not being able to help. He wanted to be able to tell you that one day it'll work, but he didn't understand what these techniques of magic were, instead watching as you gave up more and more.

Brushing the sand of his signature yellow tinted lenses, the Humanoid Typhoon made his way back, stopping in front your angry, hunched over form. He crouched down, offering you an encouraging smile, flinching out at the handful of sand thrown in his face.

"What was that for?" He whined, rubbing sand from his eyes.

"I hate that you're always happy, it pisses me off! How are you so positive?" You groaned, turning away from his returning smile. At times the blonde reminded you of your older brother, Gojo Satoru, except you were thankful Gojo couldn't wield a gun for shit.

Vash shrugged, sitting back down comfortably. "I don't know, guess it just comes naturally. If it helps, I have a pretty amazing partner right now, despite how she always wants to leave my side." You knew his words were light-hearted, Vash was your biggest supporter and he did everything to make sure you could return to Tokyo.

Hands held yours, one metallic and cold, the other soft and warm. Vash pressed his glasses onto your nose gently, ruffling your hair as he stood and walked back to his abandoned meal.

Tears welled in your eyes, those stupid glasses identical to your only remaining family. And that simple action? It was exactly what Gojo did when you were frustrated, forever the best brother despite his ridiculous antics.

"Here," a half full canteen of water and warmed can of soup were held out to you, Vash's smile widening as you took them. "You'll get it eventually, but you can't do anything on an empty stomach, eat up."

A faint smile graced your lips, thanking Vash quietly as you took your share, growing use to the taste of provisions at this point.

And Vash was right, you will return home, even if was sad to leave someone as amazing as Vash behind.

Wolfwood couldn't compute the strange looking worm fleeing the scene, hideous screeches echoing across the desert plain as your form collided with the ground in a plume of course, hot sand.

Yet despite your clingy ass, he let you trail behind him like a lost puppy. Answering whatever questions with teasing falsehoods, which you believed at first... until you found out he was full of shit.

Bleeding and coughing blood, Wolfwood was tempted to just leave you to die, but something warned him against it. So that's how he became stuck with your annoying ass, wailing nonsense the moment you woke in that hospital bed. It gave Nicholas a headache.

For months you trailed behind the cross-bearing Undertaker, finding odd comfort in the way he shielded you from outlaws, throwing you out the way of gunfire.

"You do not have worms the size of skyscrapers!" You accused, glaring at the back of Wolfwood's skull as his shoulders shook in laughter. You were tired of his stories, lying to you constantly.

"I ain't lying sweetheart, we got some big ol' bugs in this world, hope you aren't queezy around them." He barked out a mocking laugh, looking back at you with that infuriating smirk of his, always paired with a crumpled cigarette.

You scoffed, arms folded over your chest as kicked sand towards him, cursing at it filled your uniforms boots. There was no point emptying it out now, it'd just make it worse. It made you wonder how Wolfwood could traverse No Man's Land in those tattered Vans.

"You're so full of shit."

Just then an sound akin to an explosion shook the ground, you instinctively leapt forward and clung to Wolfwood's arm. Sand showered down onto you two, the gigantic creature roaring as it buried itself back into the sand, disappearing.

Your body shook, eyes wide as you stared at the now soft quick sand, unaware of Nicholas's unbothered form smirking at how you latched onto him.

"What the fuck was that?"

"A worm," Wolfwood chuckled as you realised your position, releasing him instantly. "Believe me now?"

You hated to admit he was right, even after telling the truth for the first time. "So you told me the truth once, that doesn't make up for the fact you had me believing giant emu like birds are your desert horses."

Nicholas said nothing, but that damn smirk widened a centimetre and you began doubting it was false.

"You're fucking joking! Have you been telling the truth this entire time!?" Nicholas snorted, lighting another cigarette as he began walking again, leaving you to run after him.

Knives was in the middle of kidnapping a plant, when the sky opened revealing a woman desperately fighting off a hideous, snarling creature. The sight intrigued him, never before seeing that kind of worm before nor a human attempting to fend it off.

Watching boredly as your form fell, landing a distance in front of him. He was heading that way anyways, so he'd be able to assess your worth then.

When you released some kind of energy, the ball exploding against the strange worm, rendering it to a sizzling pile of flesh, Knives lips pulled into a cruel grin.

The man ignored your warnings, finding your pathetic attempts to thwart to his mission's destination infuriating. But when you persisted, begging him to turn back, that's when something sharp flew your way, finding enough strength to dodge it.

Your eyes were wide at the bladed tendril, panicked at the idea of another Special Grade Curse meeting you in this odd plain. Before you could even begin to make sense of what just happened, an ear-piercing shriek sounded from behind.

That hideous mass of limbs and teeth had finally caught up, drool dribbling down its mouths, causing the teeth to glisten at its hunger. You couldn't put up a barrier in time, body strained from the original battle and the energy it took to conjure a domain expansion. All you could do was throw weak curse techniques its way, like before to slow it down so you could flee.

Yet before you could even speak the technique, thousands of those bladed vines lashed out towards the Special Grade. Shock froze you in place, watching as blood splattered everywhere as the curse dissolved into a darkened dissipating mist.

Scared eyes turned to what you could only describe as a stronger Special Grade, fear causing you to shuffle away from the approaching Humanoid Curse.

"What are you?" His voice was angelic, full of intrigue as he towered over you.

"You should know what I am," You shrunk under his gaze, not oblivious to an inhuman power resignating from this curse. "I'm a Jujutsu Sorcerer."

"You speak as if I'm suppose to know what that is?" Those tendrils returned, flicking the blood from their reflective surface as they retreated into his spine.

"Aren't you a curse?"

"A curse?" The man scoffed out a laugh, eyes turning cruel as he leaned dangerously close. "I am a god, here to rid this planet of the plague you humans bring."

Those words sent shivers up your spine, but his words reminded you of Gojo's mocking tales of the King of Curses: Sukuna. Perhaps this man lived on his agenda, fulfilling Sukuna's orders.

"But that's not why I decided to save your pathetic, mortal life," You hadn't realised this man was still speaking, blinking up at the handsome face, free of his cloak. "I saved you because I wish for you to join me, to use this power of yours to serve me and free my brethren."

Startled as you scrambled to your feet, taking several steps back from this scarily handsome curse, hands held out as if it'd stop his advances. As he continued to approach, grinning wickedly at your fear as you fell backwards, landing on your backside. As this thing kneeled before you, features filled with amusement, you groaned.

"I appreciate the generous offer, but I need to go home Mr Curse, so I'm gonna have to pass on the destruction of humanity." A brow was quirked your way, mocking laughter filling the empty expanse of sand.

"I wasn't asking," Those same bladed tendrils wrapped around your squirming body, hoisting you high into the air as he continued his path, deafening your shrieks and pleas.

"You may refer to me as Millions Knives, your new god."

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

A/N: Hope you enjoyed your request Clouduru-Chan! I actually had so much fun writing this, especially Knives part, that may just be cause I'm the biggest Knives simp.

Love you heaps! 💜💜

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

FLOWER RAIN!

the ability to touch others had been a fundamental thing you had been deprived of. yet things seemed to change when you stepped foot into eridia, moreso when you were able to take leander's hand. leander kindly brought you a temporary solution of flowers, but beyond the calm surface, maybe there was something more dangerous than your own curse lying in wait.

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): reader is mc, yandere, suggestive content

To touch was something holy. 

It became the pillar of human existence and human connection. Whether it be running a hand over a lover’s body or even the ability to huddle together with others during a meal, it was undeniable that the ability to touch and to feel and to connect defined an integral experience of what it meant to be a human.

It was something that you had been stripped of your entire life. It was only until just recently that the revelation that you might be able to be granted the privilege of touch. You could hardly believe it yourself, and on some days, you couldn’t help but think that maybe starving yourself of it entirely instead of entertaining a foolish hope might hurt you less in the long run. 

“Do you like them?” You jerked to life, thoughts shattered as if they were freshly frozen frost. A foreign weight in your hands reminded you of where you were and the man standing in front of you, observing you for your reaction. 

Leander’s voice remained quiet and warm, like the gentle light of a candle placed by the windowside on a cold evening. A bouquet of beautifully bloomed white lilies nestle themselves in your hands, and they weigh against your palms in a way that only a taken life would. 

The lilies weren’t heavy, but the clear markings of where they’ve been plucked by the stems seemed to add some kind of presence to them. You can’t imagine something as vibrant as these cloud-white lilies growing to fruition in the wasteland that Lowtown and its surrounding areas were, yet… These were real flowers. They weren’t the magical lilies that Leander would conjure up at the request of his team.

You glanced up at the smiling man. “They’re real. Where did you get these?”

He waved his hand, simply dismissing your curiosity. “I have my ways. You should already know that I have my own connections around these parts. Besides…”

You watched with widened eyes as Leander reached over, and with one big hand, his fingertips pinched the end of one of the flowers. The subtle white and the graceful curve of the lily petal looked like freshly fallen snow against Leander’s calloused hands and dark clothes, the contrast striking and lovely enough to render you almost breathless. 

“...It’s only fitting that a gentleman brings his beloved a gift of flowers, don’t you think?” He chuckled in the usual way he always did, and the mindful sound set you at ease somewhat. Gift or not, you’d be lying if you said that being gifted flowers wasn’t special.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” You brought the bouquet to your face, and you were welcomed with the sweet scent of the lilies. Leander remained one of the very few people you could touch with your bare hands without any drastic consequences, and yet, you knew deep down that as desperate as you were to fulfill the incessant craving for human touch, it would be horrendously unfair of you to hoard so much of his time just so you can let your hands wander all over the human body that you had been deprived of your entire life.

Leander grinned, his green eyes sparkling with delight. “Seeing you like it makes it worth my time. Although I hope you don’t take too much of a preference for them. It would make me a little sad if my magic lost its place in your heart now that you’ve seen the real deal.”

You balked, whirling your head towards Leander. “I’d never! Your flowers are something special. I don’t think an infinite supply of actual lilies could replace yours. I still remember my first night in Eridia and how I felt when you offered your flowers to me for the first time. I thought my heart stopped right there and then.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” Leander laughed again. “Not that I mind. Praise from you is something I cherish moreso than anything else.”

There certainly were moments where you wished you could see what exactly went behind Leander’s mind. You liked him dearly, maybe even bordering on the cusp of infatuation at times, yet like any experienced resident of Lowtown, Leander kept his secrets close only to himself. Even with his friendly facade and his insistence that you give him your trust, you had a hard time following his true intentions every now and then.

It wasn’t enough to make you doubt his loyalty to you. But it was enough to pique your morbid curiosity at times, to make you want to peel back the gentlemanly act he puts on for you to see what kind of man actually laid in wait underneath.

“Prettiness aside, I found out something interesting that I thought you’d appreciate.” His words shake you from your thoughts, and you find yourself face to face with Leander again. You wondered what kind of experiences he must have to develop the natural charisma that he possesses, every sentence of his ensnaring you like a siren’s song. He gestured towards the flowers. “I’ve heard that flower petals feel similar to human skin.”

Your heart skips a beat. Your breath weighed heavy in the back of your throat and on your tongue.

“They do?”

“Mhm. Why don’t you see for yourself?” He hummed. You’ve never been too good at hiding your emotions, even less so with Leander, who could read your true intentions as if you explicitly told them to him. You leaned the flowers into the crook of your elbow before you tugged cautiously at your bandages. 

The white strips bled away into the mangled flesh and golden cracks, and you held your breath. Carefully and cautiously, you brushed your knuckles against the underside of one of the lily flowers, and a sickening shiver ran down your spine.

The petals were soft. So, so, so insanely soft. Delicate, with minuscule veins crisscrossing the bottom, you swore your heart stopped in your chest.

Leander was right.

“They do,” you breathed, stunned. You turned to him with eyes bewitched and shock scribbled all over your face. 

Leander’s face melted into a fond smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I told you, didn’t I? Ever since you told me about your curse and touched me, I realized how little you must have touched others. How much trust it took for you to take that step with me. I know I’ve offered you the chance to touch me whenever you need it, but I get that that’s not an easy thing to ask for. So I figured that I would try to find the next best thing—something that won’t hurt anyone.”

“I-,” your voice caught in the back of your throat. Emotion bubbled up inside of your chest. You were no more than a stranger to Leander, an outsider who dragged their feet into Eridia with nothing but a single strand of hope towards solving your affliction, yet here he was, going out of his way to make sure that you could savor the same, trivial happiness that others took for granted. “You don’t need to do so much for me. I don’t know what to say… I mean, thank you, really.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” His voice dropped down to a low cadence. His gaze was fixed on you as you continued to stroke and pinch the petals the same way he did. 

Your fingers kept curling around and savoring the sensation of something so soft and welcoming against your own skin. It wasn’t anything compared to the actual feeling of flesh and bone underneath you, the same warmth and tension that came with brushing your fingers over Leander’s hands, but if this was the closest you could get without hurting others, you’d be a fool not to take the rare opportunity.

“They feel like you, kind of,” you said. It’s your turn to offer Leander a small grin, and your face lit up like that of a kid in a candy shop. Innocent and pure, a breath of fresh air in comparison to the muck and grime that Leander is used to being stifled by. 

“Do they?”

“Not as good, of course!” You blurted awkwardly, shaking your hands. “Nothing could feel better than actually touching you-”

-Leander raised a teasing eyebrow, and a tiny chuckle escaped the man. Heat flooded your cheeks, and you groaned, shaking your head and immediately backtracking.

“...Don’t take it the wrong way,” you grumbled. “Otherwise you’ll be just as bad as Vere.”

“I won’t push my luck then,” the man easily laughed, “But it’s good to hear that you have such a particular fondness for me. I really wish I could spend more time with you throughout the day. If only I could, I’d let you put your hands over me whenever and wherever you want—all in good faith, of course.”

“Just… forget I said anything,” you mumbled, wanting to bury your face into the bouquet of lilies. Leander laughed heartily again, and he turned on his heel, giving you a small wave in farewell before disappearing back to whatever he had been up to before he had come to you. Being the leader of the Bloodhounds must be no easy task. It was awfully kind of him to take time out of his busy day to accommodate you.

Not that Leander ever minded. Even as he walked away from you, his perfect facade working wonders at getting you to drop your guard around him, the man can’t help but let his mind run wild.

Your fingers wandered across the pretty lily petals. They’re his flowers, an extension of who he was. A perfect extension of him. His devotion, his sympathy, and his faith: all ephemeral suggestions of his love. Dignified and lethal. Your cluelessness was enough to drive him insane. You have no clue the influence you have over him, and yet, you kept stroking the flowers with the same tentativeness and visceral need that you did with him.

Leander could see the scene clearly in his head. Your fingertips followed the end of the petal towards the inside of the blossoms, from the broad curves of his chest and lower towards the hardened muscles of his abdomen. Would you touch him with the very admiration you showed the petals? Or would it be something more carnal, demanding that he reveal more of himself to sate you?

Or maybe it’d be something more romantic. His sultry eyes lowered into a more darkened look. You might raise the flowers to your face, and you’d take in the scent of the flowers, his presence embedded into the core of every single lily. The curved petals would brush against the tip of your nose and the graceful curve of your cheeks.

Maybe, just maybe, you might even press your lips against the flesh-like petals.

The thought made Leander want to go crazy with desire. Something deep and dark inside of him stirred dangerously. This world was determined to snuff you out without any fanfare, to the point that even the smallest sparks of joy were enough to tempt you out from the light and towards a fate far murkier than the one fate had in store for you. After having been deprived for what must be your entire life, the little things must taste that much sweeter to you.

But it was entirely alright.

Denial only makes the desire harder to stave off, and absence only makes the heart fonder. The flowers were nothing more than a temporary fix. Perhaps enough to get you hooked on the feeling of human touch, the same thing you’ve learned to live without out of sheer necessity. Now that you’ve had a sampling, it would only be natural that you’d follow the fleeting rapture like a starved madman. 

And Leander would gladly be waiting at the end of the descent, arms wide open, for you to accept.

For you to love.

For you to touch.

x

[lonesome-witching]

I'll Still Love You If You Don't

A new anonymous prompt. This one was so much fun to write. In this episode of 'another day, another prompt' we get post flayed Nancy struggling with the things she did when flayed. And of course, Robin is there. Hope you enjoy!

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Nancy’s arms were wrapped around her knees. She vaguely registered that her hands were shaking. She just didn’t care much. It seemed preposterous to even sit here. Mike had insisted. And when she still refused, Robin had insisted. So, Nancy came down and joined them. Them being her brother, Robin, Lucas, Will, Dustin, El, Max and Steve. Too many people. Too many people she had hurt.

“Nance? What do you think?” Mike asked. He had turned his body to face his sister.

“What?”

“Which movie should we watch?”

She could see Robin looking at her. It wasn’t entirely new. Robin had always looked at her. Nancy had first noticed it in the library, and it had never stopped since then. But now Robin looked at her differently. There was more worry in her eyes.

Nancy couldn’t really blame her. Not after everything that happened. Not after everything she’d done. Maybe Robin was worried she’d snap at any moment now. That she would attack her or Steve or even Mike. Nancy worried about the same thing.

“What— What are the options?” Nancy’s voice was shaking too.

“We could watch Star Wars or Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or Jaws or The Breakfast Club. But does anyone really want to watch The Breakfast Club?” Mike held up each tape as he said the name of the movie.

“Oh, I don’t know. What do you want?”

“I’m voting Jaws. Lucas and Max voted Ferris Bueller, Dustin, Will and El voted Star Wars and Steve and Robin haven’t voted yet.”

“I’ll vote Breakfast Club, right now,” Robin chimed in.

“Why? You don’t even like John Hughes,” Mike protested.

“But I do like annoying you.”

Mike groaned.

“I’ll follow Robin,” Steve said from his corner of the couch.

“Of course.”

“Nance?” Robin poked Nancy’s arm.

“I— I— I don’t care!” Nancy jumped up from her spot on the couch. She watched as the semi casual smiles turned sour. Everyone looking at her. She hated it. She hated the frown on Robin’s face and the way Mike flinched when she stood up. She hated the feeling that was crawling under her skin. As if worms were slithering under her skin. As if Vecna was still controlling her, still inside of her mind, making her go insane.

“Nance—” Robin leaned forward as she whispered that name.

“No, stop. I just—” Nancy waved her hand around herself and then rushed away. She couldn’t be here. She couldn’t sit in this room of the people she loved and just forget about everything that she had done. She needed to get away.

It was hard enough to deal with the trauma and the guilt when it had been an unforeseen consequence of her teenage rebellion. It was a whole other thing when she could remember it being her own actions. She wanted to rip her skin off.

She fell down on her bed headfirst, screaming into her pillow. Why couldn’t she just get rid of those pesky images. Those horrendous… memories.

“Nance?” The name was followed by a soft knock. “Nancy, are you alright?”

“No,” Nancy muttered into her pillow. She wasn’t even sure Robin actually heard her. But she didn’t seem to care, simply stepping into Nancy’s room, her personal space, and sitting on the bed.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel right now.”

“Robin, stop. Please just stop. Stop being nice to me. Stop trying to comfort me. Stop! Stop! Stop!” Nancy pressed her hands against her ears. Just like she used to do when she was a little kid. She felt like a little kid. Complaining about the fact that her own actions had consequences.

“Why should I stop being nice to you? Nance, I care about you.”

“Why? After everything… How?” Nancy finally sat up, her hands dropped in her lap as she kneeled on her bed.

“It’s really not that hard.”

“It should be. Robin, I strangled you.”

“You nearly strangled me.” Robin had a smile on her face.

“Robin,” Nancy complained.

“It wasn’t you, Nance. You’d never hurt me. You’d never hurt any of us. We know that.” Her hand reached out, stopping halfway to Nancy’s bare knee.

“But it was me. Don’t you understand? It were my hands that wrapped around your throat, Robin. It was me looking at the life being drained from you.” Nancy could still see it whenever she closed her eyes. She still saw the image during her long, painful nightmares. She could still hear Steve shouting for her to stop as he rushed toward them.

“No. It wasn’t. It wasn’t you, Nance. It was Vecna. You were the one that pulled her hands off me. That kept me safe even when you couldn’t keep yourself safe. Nance, you weren’t in control when Vecna attacked us, but you made sure we’d all make it out alive. At risk of yourself.” Robin’s hand creeped closer, but despite her words she was hesitant to touch Nancy.

“If I’m a savior to you, why don’t you dare to touch me?” Nancy scoffed. She could feel the tears pool in her eyes.

“That has nothing to do with you,” Robin whimpered. She pulled her hand back entirely. Nancy wanted to cry.

“Then what is it? What is your reason for always keeping your distance if you’re not afraid of me?”

“It’s the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“The opposite.”

“Please explain to me how you feeling the opposite of afraid is a reason to stay away from me.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I practically let you strangle me,” Robin sighed.

“Oh, so now it was me who strangled you?”

“Nancy, stop!” Robin jumped from the bed as if burned. Nancy crawled into herself. She wanted to vanish. To just be erased from the face of the earth. She couldn’t face Robin. She couldn’t take seeing fear in those beautiful blue eyes. “I’m not afraid of you, Nancy. I could never be afraid of you. Even if you wanted to hurt me, even if you truly wanted to kill me, I still wouldn’t be afraid. Because the mere thought of your hands wrapped around my neck, even if controlled by Vecna, don’t fill me with disdain, but with the gratitude of knowing you touched me. Knowing Vecna chose me to hurt you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to care for me.”

“Of course, I care for you, Robin. Of course, I care.”

“No, Nancy. You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?” Nancy felt a sense of irritation bubble up within her. One that frightened her more than she’d like to admit. One had never felt towards Robin before. She wasn’t sure she felt it towards Robin now.

“God, Nancy, I’m in love with you.” The words escaped Robin with an air of despair. Her face having scrunched up in what could only resemble pain.

“You’re what?” Nancy breathed the words as if she had forgotten their meaning. Almost as if she was learning a new language entirely.

“I love you,” Robin admitted once again.

“Even after—”

“Yes, Nancy. Even after everything. Because none of that was your fault. You might have some rough edges, but you are so good. You’re so good.”

“Robin.”

“No, it’s alright, you don’t have to say anything.”

“Alright.” Nancy allowed the silence to cover them. Maybe she was buying herself some time to think. Some time to process everything that was said. Robin was in love with her. Robin. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You never did,” Robin replied swiftly.

“I’ve been wondering… I’ve been wondering why he made me attack you. Why not El? Or Will? Or even Max? Why not the people who have escaped him? He had easy access through me. El might have been able to but she would never kill me. And I know, I know I did hurt them. But I never tried to kill them. It was never like it was with you.” Nancy wasn’t sure where she was going with this. She hoped she’d figure it out before reaching the end of her speech.

“I know,” Robin interrupted, maybe trying to save Nancy from having to relive everything she did. But Nancy relived it anyway.

“I think he wanted me to kill you because it would have hurt me the most. It would have left me a broken shell of myself. I would have stopped fighting and he would have had complete and utter control of me. So, he tried to force me to kill you. And even when I had fallen under his control with barely any sense of myself left within me, I still couldn’t. Maybe if he had tried to get me to shoot you. But strangling… You are forced to watch the life fade from someone’s eyes. And when I looked into yours, Robin, when I saw the life begin to fade from yours, I was forced to fight. To protect you.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you are trying to say, Nance.”

“That makes two of us,” Nancy laughed softly. It sounded foreign even to her. She got up from her spot on the bed. Took a few steps toward Robin, hoping she wouldn’t flinch. She didn’t flinch. “I think what I’m trying to say is that… I might feel something for you too.”

“You might?” A smile slowly grew on Robin’s face. It was a beautiful sight.

“I’m quite sure of it, if I’m being honest,” Nancy admitted. “And if you think you could still love me after all that happened, then I think I could very well love you back. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, I can totally do that.” Robin nodded her head.

“Frankly, even if you can’t love me anymore, I still could probably love you,” Nancy admitted before slowly leaning in.

[somekidnamedkai]

February 4th- Awkward (yet cute) confession of love with Jamil, please?

February 4th - Awkward Yet Cute Love Confession

Authors Note: This is just basically me making a self insert fic. Enjoy :)

Characters: Jamil Viper

Warnings: Me bullying loving Jamil

Gn! reader

February 14th, Valentine's Day. A holiday you’ve always thought was a little stupid. It was a holiday where people in relationships could flaunt them off and make single people like you feel horrible. There should be a holiday for single people, where they can show off just how single they… Ok, it sounded good for a second.

Walking around the halls of school almost made you sick. The couples walked around, holding hands, giving each other presents like chocolate and stuffed teddy bears. Then there are the people practically eating each other's faces with how aggressively they were making out.

And maybe this spite for Valentine’s is because you’re single, or maybe it’s because you're scared that you’ll never feel that kind of love. Having the person you’re in love with shower you with gifts. What if it never comes?

Lunch arrived, and you sat at your table with your friends. “I just don’t understand. Why is there a holiday about love? Can these people not love anyone else on any other day?” You said your thoughts aloud as you played with your food, moving it around the plate.

Before he spoke up, Jack patted your back, “Prefect, why don’t you just tell Jamil how you feel. Maybe you’ll feel different after you let it all out,” he told you before ruffling your hair making the rest of the group laugh.

You groaned in response and then fixed your hair, “why would I? So I can be rejected on Valentine’s Day. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. You tell someone you’re in love with them, then they say that they don’t care,” you whined and slammed your head on the table. Jack sighed before patting your back again.

Little did you know, there was a certain dorm leader who heard the entire conversation. And he couldn’t wait to tell his vice housewarden the good news that the person he had feelings for felt the same.

Jamil couldn’t believe it. “You were eavesdropping on them, Kalim? Seriously?” He asked after the cheery boy finished his story about how his beloved prefect liked him just as much as he did. To be honest, Jamil was practically screaming inside. He was so happy you liked him. He just didn't know what to do now. What was he supposed to say? Hey, Prefect, Kalim overheard your conversation and heard you love me, and well I like you too. Twisted Wonderland that’s cringe.

Kalim shook his head in defense of Jamil's accusation, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I just overheard them on my way over,” he explained, “but isn’t this great news?!”

“No.” What Jamil meant to say was yes. But he wasn’t going to admit that. He didn’t need Kalim breathing down his neck on confessing to the prefect.

Kalim smiled, “Yes it is. I can tell you’re excited about it,” dang it. Jamil hated how Kalim could be so observant at times. “Just tell them how you feel.”

That made Jamil roll his eyes, “it’s not that easy, Kalim. Just because you’re good at talking to people doesn’t mean I am.”

“You don’t need to be good at talking. Just tell them how you feel, say you like their eyes, and compliment their hair. Let the words just fall out,” Kalim explained, yet to Jamil, it made no sense. This was going to go horrendously.

After school was over you and Grim went back to Ramshackle to get your schoolwork done, what you found when you got there, however, was a surprise.

Jamil was standing in front of the door, a small bouquet and a box of chocolates in hand. “Jamil?” You called out as you walked up to the door. “What are you doing here?”

Jumping in surprise, the boy turned around and faced you, “Oh! Prefect, I just wanted to talk to you. If you don’t mind, that is.” He said, almost hesitantly.

You raised an eyebrow at his newfound shyness but immediately shrugged it off and walked inside the dorm, motioning for Jamil to follow. Why was Jamil holding flowers? And why did he come to Ramshackle? The questions danced around your head as you closed the door after Grim entered. “Jamil, what are.. what are you doing here?” You asked, curiously. You wanted to ask about the flowers and chocolate, but you were too scared of the answer.

There was a moment of silence, as if Jamil didn’t know what he was doing himself (spoiler: he doesn’t). He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again only to shut it a minute later. Jamil shoved the flowers and chocolate into your arms, as he began to blush. “These are for you,” he told you. But before you could question him about it he began to speak again, “The flowers are for your eyes-“ Jamil groaned and cringed at himself, there’s no way he just said that. “I mean, your eyes are as beautiful as the chocolates, I mean flowers. God.” Jamil said as he continued to butcher his words. “I... I love your hair and seeing you! No, wait-'' He finally spat out, talking quickly then groaned when he realized his mistake. “Kalim said this would be easy. Liar.” The vice housewarden muttered

You laughed, the laugh Jamil had fallen for, the same laugh that kind of terrified him. Oh no, what if Kalim lied, and you didn’t like him at all and now you’re going to tell him that he’s stupid and- “I like you too.” “What?” You walked closer to the stunned boy and hugged him. “I like you too, a lot. A ridiculous amount, honestly.”

Jamil let out a sigh of relief as he returned your hug. “So, will you be my valentine? Actually, how about you be my partner? We can be a couple every day instead of just today.”

You immediately nodded as Jamil let out a breath of relief as he looked down at you lovingly and smiled, “Can I kiss you?”

[saintsenara]

author self-recommendation

thank you so much for the tag [quite a long time in the past...] @ashesandhackles!

when you get this, reply with your five favourite fics that you've written. then pass it on to five other writers. spread some self love.

did i laugh at self love? the answer is yes.

these are my five [and by five i mean six] favourite complete fics - obviously i’m sufficiently fond of my wips to keep coming back to them, no mean feat for someone with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder! - and i’m hyped to get to showcase them.

bookbinding

tom riddle/myrtle warren teen | 35k words

lord voldemort and moaning myrtle in a rom-com - and especially a rom-com with a happy ending - may not appear to be the instinctive response to a prompt from @ladiesofhpfest asking for heartthrobs and heartaches. and yet, when i started writing it i couldn’t stop.

my profound affection for dear old tom marvolo riddle is well known, but i’ve also always been very fond of myrtle, and i really dislike the way she’s treated in the canon narrative - especially, as i’ve said before, the fact that she is one of the worst victims of jkr’s tendency to use a lack of conventional physical attractiveness [and, in particular, fatness] to indicate characters the reader is not supposed to root for. 

i like the fact that the glimpses of myrtle we see in the series - when she’s not shrieking [behaviour, may i say, i find relatable] - show someone who has lots of admirable traits, which are only poorly expressed because she’s forever fourteen [can you imagine]. she’s kind, she’s perceptive, she’s strong-willed, she’s sensitive, she’s assertive. on the other hand, she’s clearly very lonely, she can be extremely clingy, she’s unhappy at hogwarts, she’s insecure. she’s also someone with a bit of a cruel streak, who clearly understands the impulse to externalise one’s own self-loathing onto other people.

in other words, she’s tom’s dream girl. once she’s worn him down a bit.

i loved writing this, i made myself chuckle self-indulgently on multiple occasions, i have teared up at dozens of the comments i have received about it [someone made a reddit post recommending it at exactly the moment i was leaving a horrendous day at work and i was on the train howling like myrtle in her u-bend], and i like to imagine the two of them are still happy nonagenarians in some universe somewhere.

everlasting ink

harry potter/ginny weasley teen | 6k words

this was a gift for @whinlatter, because she is a sweetie-pie. it was also a gift for me - not only because it was lovely to write, but because it enabled me to indulge in one of my favourite emotions: spite.

i am on the record as not being a fan of hinny. there are several reasons for this, some sillier than others, but one major one is that harry’s idealisation of ginny within the seven book canon into a place of comfort and safety is pretty fucking condescending. harry never acknowledges in the text that ginny spends deathly hallows as a resistance leader in her own right; he's constantly trying to direct her away from the fighting despite acknowledging generally that she's a talented duellist; he associates her primarily with the safe-space of the burrow; he breaks up with her "for her own protection" without offering her a choice in the matter; he doesn’t welcome her into his intensely co-dependent relationship with ron and hermione, and - and i think this really is the kicker - he's incredibly dismissive of her experience with tom riddle. indeed, harry separates the voldemort of canon out into two people: there’s tom, who is an orphan, and is hot, and whom harry pities; and there's voldemort, who has red eyes, no nose, and killed his parents. but ginny can’t have these two separate people in her head. the horror she experienced came at the hands of the pretty, charming, sympathetic voldemort - and harry really doesn’t get that. and sure, by the epilogue harry and ginny appear to have ended up in a happy, equal marriage. but the text never shows us how they get there, and i think it’s perfectly plausible to write stuff in which they don’t.

which is to say, i published an extremely tongue-in-cheek post saying this, and several hinny fans were amusingly passive-aggressive about it. undoubtedly they thought my position as a tomarry defender had scrambled my brain and i couldn’t see the beauty with which the complex parts of their favourite ship could be written.

so i did it. six thousand words on ginny and harry learning to function as a couple among the dust of war and grief, featuring ginny’s complicated feelings on how harry sees her, voldemort, being a daughter and a mother, relating to ron and hermione, heredity, love, and what being a family really means. i enjoyed writing it, and the chance it gave me to think from the other side about what hinny would need to work, how the characterisations of harry and ginny [and voldemort!] i typically write could be nuanced, and what trauma looks like in the immediate aftermath of the battle of hogwarts. and i also enjoyed writing it to prove that i could.

that i have received no reciprocal tomarry in return has been noted…

leather

nymphadora tonks/multiple explicit | 3k words

this was something which spiralled out of a conversation with @evesaintyves around the blind-spots many of us have as authors when thinking about sexuality and gender identity - and especially how those blind-spots become particularly pronounced when they come up against canon compliancy. initially, we were talking about hinny - and the fact that keeping them as end-game has absolutely no reason to prevent either of them identifying as queer, either of them exploring their sexuality or gender identity within their relationship, or, indeed, either of them still understanding themselves as cisgender by the time the epilogue takes place - but we then moved on to talking about tonks, and how the readably queer aspects of her canon characterisation [at least in order of the phoenix] are treated within many of the popular ships which feature her, and, in particular, how both her and lupin’s [potential] queerness is sometimes obscured within end-game remadora. there are numerous reasons for this, and the vast majority are - of course - the result of gentle, human fallibility rather than maliciousness, but it set me to thinking…

so here we have a canon-compliant look at tonks looking at herself, exploring her sexuality, becoming comfortable with her gender, and thinking about how her metamorphing would impact how she understands both of those things, shot through with the hedonistic paradise of the lesbian bar and the tight hold of leather. 

lux aurumque

sirius black & james potter teen | 3.5k words

sirius’ last days of normality, before he is betrayed by wormtail, haunt me. the idea of this poor lad, who is absolutely convinced he’s pulled a blinder which will keep the man he loves safe - even if it results in his own death - having that certainty pulled out from under him is just devastating. no wonder he couldn’t stop laughing at the grim absurdity of it all as they carried him off to azkaban.

one of the things i find most fascinating about sirius as a character is how he embodies the value of choice - and, above all, how he does so far more than james, whose brief appearances in canon set him up as someone with a much more self-righteous certainty about the path he will take than his best friend. sirius chose to leave his family, and fight, and protect the potters, and he also made a choice which would prove to be disastrous and lives with the consequences. 

so, here we have seven dawns which change sirius black - or, red and gold for the man who chose those colours and earned them several times over - featuring harry being a mashed potato fiend and maybe the tiniest bit of prongsfoot if you squint. 

there’s basically no lupin though, because he is - i fear - irrelevant.

nor all that glisters gold

sirius black & bellatrix lestrange teen | 9k words

i am definitely a committed james & sirius [or James/sirius] girly, but another dynamic i love to explore is sirius’ relationship with his cousins, bellatrix chief among them. in fact, i always think that sirius’ choices become all the more impressive when we consider that he’s - let’s be honest - quite a lot like his dear and deranged relative. they have a shared arrogance, a shared ruthlessness, a shared capacity for jealousy, a shared dogged loyalty, and a shared complicated relationship with their role in their family, which i can see leading to an incredibly intense and codependent friendship, despite their age gap, when sirius is a child.

but this, of course, is then utterly torn apart when sirius enters his teens. this piece asks why. is it just the inevitable drifting which happens when one of you is married and the other is in gryffindor? or is someone else the cause? the dark lord, perhaps?

remus lupin is once again irrelevant in this. sorry to him.

the shack at the end of the lane

merope gaunt & voldemort general | 4k words

death is something i think about a great deal. not because i’m unusually morbid - nor, at the risk of protesting too much, because i’m a killer - but because i’m a doctor, in a speciality where death - and often death in traumatic circumstances - is ever present. obviously, one way of coping with this involves quite a lot of dissociation from what’s in front of you, but another is trying to treat the dead with as much dignity as possible, which is often more dignity than they had when they were dying. the cadaver is a colleague, as one of my professors was fond of saying.

spending so much time trying to offer this fundamental dignity is the cause, i think, of my fondness for attempting to write meaningfully about people who are in no way the heroes of pieces. the violent, the sad, the lonely, and the unlikeable appeal to me far more than the good. our star, merope gaunt, and the combined forces of the horrifying things she did to tom riddle sr. and the horrifying things she endured herself within a world which didn’t give her the tools to know any better, is all four of those things. and i have built her an [after]life here where she can try to make up for what she did on earth by acting as the ferrywoman for a procession of other lost souls on the other side of the veil...

i have taken so long to bother doing this that i’m sure everyone’s done it. if not, please consider this a blanket tag.