#is gonna go in the 'maybe one day I'll finish' box

[lynaferns]

Due to popular demand

of one person, I bring you the abandoned wip of Sun on a tiny bicycle.

Enjoy.

Animated in Autodesk Sketchbook, Flipbook, 24fps (doesn't seem like it I know), idk how many frames is this and I'm too lazy to look it up but seems like 12-13 drawn frames(?)

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 2. Rules

Masterlist

Summary: Simon lays the ground rules and shows you around the house.

Warnings: Simon's email etiquette, very mild cursing, beginnings of obsessive behavior.

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

Next ->

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

[writingwithciara]

birthday cake -quinn hughes-

summary: quinn believes everyone forgot his birthday in favor of thanksgiving. but that's simply not the case

word count: 2k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

notes: in honor of the love of my life's birthday, i decided to cook up this little gem. hope everyone enjoys it. (should've been posted on his birthday but i got super busy because of thanksgiving & other projects i'm working on)

"hey quinn. do you have any plans for monday?"

"actually, yes." quinn looked up from his phone as brock entered the room. "why?"

"my sister wanted to invite you over to her place for thanksgiving. she said she gave you an invitation the other day but you just shoved it in your bag and that you haven't said anything to her since then."

"that's what that was? i thought she was just handing me some mail that was put in the wrong box."

"have you not seen her since tuesday? you live across the hall from each other."

"i know but our schedules haven't given us the time to chat. she's working when i'm home, and vice versa."

"you should text her and tell her you're going to be busy on monday. i think it would be best coming from you. maybe she won't be upset."

"i'll text her after practice." quinn set his phone in his bag and finished lacing up his skates.

during practice, everyone was talking about y/n's thanksgiving dinner. quinn was the only one who wouldn't be attending. and while he felt bad about it, seeing as she was one of his good friends, he also started to feel bad for himself.

monday was also his 25th birthday but it seemed like no one remembered.

practice went well. so when quinn walked to his car, he sent a text to y/n to let her know he wouldn't be able to show up to her dinner. he made up a lie and said he wouldn't be home.

his plan was to just stay home and watch game highlights while cooking his own meal.

when monday rolled around, y/n and brock were finishing up the food preparations when a thought occurred to y/n.

"oh my freaking god. it's the 14th today. how could i be so stupid?"

"i would love to object, or even agree, depending on what it's about." brock looked at his sister with a curious expression. he couldn't quite read her like he normally could. "care to let me know what you're talking about?"

"october 14th. quinn's birthday! how could i forget? i bake him a cake every year." y/n set her oven mitts back on the rack. "i am a terrible friend."

"i'm sure it's fine. quinn probably forgot about the cake anyway. pretty sure you're in the clear, y/n."

"brock, i've made the cake every single year since we've been friends. he loves it. you should see the way his face lights up when i deliver it to him."

"are you sure it's the cake he likes to see every year?" brock raised his eyebrow, earning a slap to the shoulder from his younger sister.

"brock, no."

"look, just bake him a cake today and give it to him tomorrow. i'm sure he won't mind."

"i don't have the time or oven space to bake a whole new cake." y/n shook her head. "i'm gonna run to the store and buy him one instead.

"people are going to be here any moment. i'm afraid it's gonna have to wait."

"can you please keep them company? i'll be back in 20 minutes."

"you're lucky you're my sister and i love you." brock smiled. "now go fix your friendship with your neighbor."

"love you, brocky." y/n kissed his forehead and went out to her car. she hated the idea of buying a cake from the store. it didn't have the personal touch that her homemade cake did and she knew it wouldn't live up to it either. but she was desperate.

when she got back to her apartment, brock was the only one there.

"nobody's here yet?"

"not yet. mom and steve are almost here. been getting location updates from steve."

"did he let mom drive?"

"yeah. that's probably why they're not here yet." brock chuckled and grabbed the cake from her hands. "this looks amazing. are you gonna try to pass it off as your own?"

"no. i could never lie to quinn." y/n smiled and took it back, setting it down in the fridge. "i'm just going to tell him the truth."

"that's new for you. are you that honest with everyone?"

"i don't think so. there's something different about quinn. he makes me want to be honest."

"have you ever lied to me?"

"no. of course not."

"okay. good." he looked at his sister. "i want you to answer a question then. i'm only gonna ask it once."

"alright. shoot."

"is there something going on between you quinn?"

"no, brock. that would be ridiculous."

"okay. i'm gonna ask it twice. is there something going on between you and quinn?"

"no. you told me he was off limits for dating, as well as the rest of your teammates. but i would be lying to you if i said i didn't think he was really good looking."

"you really think so?" brock's eyes widened at his sisters confession.

"mhm. i do. like, super insanely good looking."

"okay. well, thanks for the honesty." brock couldn't help but chuckle.

before y/n could respond, there was a knock at the door, followed by a few voices.

"sounds like your guests are here. i'll let them in." brock went to the door and opened it, letting their parents inside, along with a few other guests.

y/n spent the first half hour finishing up the meal before brock served it to everyone.

conversation flowed easily around the table, but y/n was stuck thinking about quinn. all his friends were with her and he was most likely alone.

when she stood up abruptly, it caught everyone's attention.

"are you okay?" brock asked.

"yeah. i just have something i really need to do." y/n walked over to the fridge and grabbed the cake. she left her apartment without another word and knocked on quinn's door.

"hey. what are you doing here?" quinn smiled when he answered the door.

"happy birthday." y/n handed him the cake and walked back towards her apartment.

quinn was left standing in his own doorway, staring at the cake. he was used to getting a cake from y/n every year. it was always homemade & this time, it was store bought. but he didn't care. someone actually remembered his birthday.

y/n walked back into her apartment and sat back down at the table. she ignored the looks everyone was giving her and continued eating. everyone went back to eating and talking with each other, quickly forgetting that y/n disappeared for a moment.

a few hours later, everyone was heading out. brock stayed behind to help y/n clean up.

"what did quinn say when you gave him the cake?"

"how did you know that's what i did?"

"you were beating yourself up over missing his birthday. and you left right after i told mom about quinn's goal the other night."

"i wasn't even paying attention to the conversations around me. all i could think about was how quinn's friends were here and nobody mentioned his birthday. i felt bad so i took the cake to him."

"and what did he say?"

"i have no idea. i came right back over here." y/n finished washing the last dish and handed it to brock so he could dry it.

"maybe you should go see him right now. i'm sure he would appreciate some company for the last little bit of his birthday. Oh, and take him some leftovers. dinner was delicious and i guarantee he'll love it." brock grabbed a plate and put all the food he could fit onto it. when he handed it to his sister, she hesitated. "take it to him, y/n. you can't keep beating yourself up over forgetting his birthday."

"you're right." she took the plate and walked to the door. "i'll be back."

"i'll be here." brock chuckled and started putting away the rest of the leftovers.

y/n knocked on quinn's door and waited patiently. when he opened it, she handed him the plate. he looked at her and smiled.

"what's this for?"

"thought you might like some leftovers from today."

"oh. well thank you. smells delicious." he set the plate on the table by the door. "would you like to come in? or do you still have company over there?"

"just brock." y/n smiled and walked into his apartment. "so, how was your birthday?"

"it was good. i got to have breakfast with my parents and then i went to the gym for a bit. then i got a cake delivered to me. it was amazing, by the way."

"really?" y/n smiled. "i'm sorry it wasn't homemade this year. i'm ashamed to admit that i briefly forgot about your birthday and i didn't have enough time to bake you a cake. but i can make up for it if you want."

"look, it doesn't matter to me whether it was homemade or store bought. all i care about is the company that comes with it each year." quinn smiled. "also, thank you for stopping by today. i thought everyone forgot my birthday."

"but quinn, i did forget."

"you remembered eventually. that's all that matters to me. things like that stand out and i appreciate it. more than you think." he sighed. "other than my parents, you're the only one who remembered. so, thank you."

"you're welcome. and i promise i'll make up for almost missing your 25th birthday."

"you don't have to. you're here now. and honestly, your company is the only thing i wanted this year."

"wait, really?"

"yeah. it's the one thing i look forward to for every birthday, no matter how brief it is."

"are you serious?"

"yes. very serious." quinn hesitantly reached for y/n's hand and when she didn't yank it away, he slowly intertwined his fingers with hers. "i'm not sure if you can tell but i like you. i've liked you since the first second i saw you move in across the hall. but unfortunately, i can't do anything about this."

"and why not?" y/n was confused. she liked quinn and it was becoming evident he liked her too. but she didn't understand why nothing could happen.

"you're brock's little sister. it wouldn't be right. it just-"

quinn was unable to finish his sentence. he was pulled forward and y/n's lips were placed on his, softly.

"what was that for?" he asked when y/n pulled away from the kiss.

"your birthday present, dummy." y/n smiled. "and because i like you, quinn."

"you....you do?"

"yes. i don't bake a cake for anyone else's birthday, you know."

"but what about brock?" quinn looked all over her face.

"i'm 24 years old, quinn. brock can't tell me who i can and can't have feelings for." y/n smiled and leaned closer. "besides, i think he actually wants us to be together."

"what makes you say that?"

"he kept encouraging me to come over here to see you. even gave me the plate so i'd have a reason to come over here." she glanced at quinn. "not that i didn't already have a really good reason to come and see you tonight anyway."

"i'm really glad you came over tonight. and kissed me." quinn smirked. "god, i sound like a freaking teenager when he gets his very first girlfriend."

"it's cute." y/n smiled and looked at where her leg touched his. "i think i know the answer to this, but are you enjoying your birthday?"

"i really am." he couldn't help the smile that came upon his face. "i'm still trying to get over the initial shock of you liking me back."

"it's the same for me. guess we can figure it out together, huh?"

"yeah. i guess we can." quinn held her hand and looked at her fingers. "is every part of you just perfect?"

"yes. i do believe every part of me is perfect. perfect in my own special way."

quinn chuckled at the girl he oh so admired. "would it be alright if i kissed you?"

"quinn, you know you don't have to ask." y/n smiled and gave quinn what he wanted. really, what they both wanted.

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

B-urn

Tags : Fluff then Angst, Smitten Gojo Satoru x F!Reader :), Gojo as a hateful dad, character death.

A/N : I've had enough of soft dad Gojo Satoru, I need some hateful dad Gojo Satoru or something similar to it at least.

WC : 1.7k

__________________________________________________

1 " Hey 'toru, Get some peaches on your way back. " " Hey, honey. "

"You're crazy," you whisper speechlessly, pushing a strand of wet hair off your eyes and gazing blankly at Satoru kneeling on the tiled floor with a velvet box in his hand, encasing a sparkly ring inside- both his and your birthstones, you notice.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But one thing's for sure, I never thought I wanted to settle down. But now...now I just can't imagine a future without you," Satoru starts, you've never seen him so genuine of his feelings, so innocently vulnerable like he's gonna shatter if you say no.

"So please, answer my question. Can I marry you and make myself the happiest man to have ever lived?" He continues, gentler this time. You bite your bottom lip, holding a sob back as you nod, too afraid that you'll fall apart if you speak. You nod once again, feeling warmth envelop your skin as Satoru throws himself at you and peppers your face with kisses- 'Thank you's' and 'I love you's' slipping out his mouth like butter on a heated pan as he slips the ring on your finger.

You clear your throat, backing away as you look at the ring glint under the light with a smile," it's beautiful, Satoru. I love it but next time, please don't propose to me in the bathroom when I'm fresh out of the shower," you say with a wide grin on your face, tugging the towel around you to secure its position again. Satoru responds with a huge grin of his own, pulling you close and nuzzling your neck," Couldn't wait for tonight's date, I've waited long enough for this," he mumbles, placing soft kisses against your damp skin.

"Tha-," he shuts you up with his lips, "Okay, fine. Sorry, I'll keep the destination in mind next time," he apologizes with a sheepish grin but you know better than that, he's not the least bit sorry.

2 " I'm going shopping with your mum for my wedding dress today, I might be a little late. " " I hope you're doing fine "

The wedding was perfect from start to finish, the Gojo clan doing all the grunt work while the two of you made the final call at the end. Everything was perfect for Satoru, especially you. He even tears up a little when he watches you walk down the aisle towards him- muted giggles echoing in the enclosed wedding hall at his reaction. He had his blindfold removed for the day despite the fact that the shards of decorated glass and bright lights irritated his six eyes, a small sacrifice for the greater good.

The greater good being getting a better look at you, every blemish, every scar and every battle wound peeking out of your wedding dress was perfection to him. His heart tap-dancing in his chest when he meets your eyes, absolutely smitten for the look of pure joy in your face when your father finally rests your hand on Satoru's and the officiant starts the wedding, his words falling on deaf ears when Satoru chooses to gaze at you with adoration in his eyes instead.

Popping out of his reverie when your sparkling eyes meets his and a smile tugs at your lips," You're supposed to say 'I do' now," you whisper, squeezing his hand. "I do," his voice rings, loud and clear, squeezing your hand back after you do the same.

"You may kiss the bride." Finally.

"My wife," he thinks to himself happily before pulling you in and crushing your lips against his, the cheers from the crowd gradually turning into background noise, getting lost in the feeling of your warmth against his. He breaks the kiss only when thunder erupts and the pitter-patter of the rain starts loud and ominously, he turns and looks at you worriedly only to be left surprised when you look back at him with delight.

"Looks like even the heavens are blessing our wedding now," you hum, pulling him by the arm towards the door to the large balcony. Pushing the door open and dragging him towards the middle of the open balcony with a grin, the heavy rain immediately drenching the two of you- you let go of his arm, turning to face him with a hand held out," Can I have this dance?" a teasing grin on your face, Satoru swears his heart actually stopped for a second; grabbing hold of your hand, he places a quick kiss on your knuckles," gladly."

Gently swaying in the rain to the music drifting from the wedding hall, Satoru couldn't be happier. He's the happiest man to have ever lived when in your arms.

3 " 'll make breakfast tomorrow though, you want anything? " " I'm not sure if I told you this enough but "

Getting pregnant 3 years after your marriage wouldn't have been a surprising thing but it was for the two of you considering the fact that you went at it like rabbits. You wanted kids, he didn't, heirs and other matters be damned. He wanted you to himself for as long as possible, hoard your attention and love for as long as he could before you finally put your foot down.

The dreaded day arrived sooner than he liked, he'd have preferred another 7 years alone with you but you didn't give in this time. Adamant on bearing his child and starting a family, how could he ever say no to you? So he gives in and fucks you with a new goal in mind- getting you pregnant with his child.

Two weeks later, your breathe hitches as you look at the stick in your hand- you're pregnant. Excited squeals gushing out of you, you rush out the bathroom and to the shared master bedroom where you hold the pregnancy test up at Satoru's face. He looks at you with mild shock in his face," already?" He asks softly, taking the stick from your hand and looking at it blankly, sitting down on the edge of the bed besides him, you nod excitedly," We're gonna be parents, s'toru!"

Before you know it, he throws the test aside on the floor, pulling you in his arms and crushing you under his weight as he presses kisses all over your flushed face," we're gonna be parents!" You giggle, hands cupping his cheeks to slow down the barrage of kisses. Satoru still wasn't really sure about the idea of a child yet but your joy at the thought of it was enough for him to push that idea aside, what you wanted was what he wanted, it's a universal rule.

"We gotta celebrate this now, don't we?" He mumbles, hands slowly sliding under your shirt with a smirk, earning him a swat against his chest. "Gosh, you're disgusting," you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him in. "And you love me for it, Mama," he coos, pressing a light kiss at the corner of your lips- your heart swells at the thought of being a mother, you were finally gonna start a family of your own with the man you love, life couldn't get any better.

4 " It might rain today so call me when you're done, okay? I'll come pick you up. " " I love you so much "

Fear and respect, two sides of the same coin, was easy to come by when it came to Gojo Satoru, hating even easier but what was hard was loving him, harder than it should be- Loving him was like climbing up a snowy mountain with nothing but a fork, Loving him was like crossing the seven seas with only a raft, Loving him was like trying to figure out what to do with a beloved china bowl that got smashed into pieces. It was nigh impossible to love him, anyone who did try gave up halfway through, only leaving him worse still. But everything changed once you came along.

You didn't climb the snowy mountain with a fork, not at all. You just waited long enough for a ski lift to be built for skiing enthusiasts and then took the lift yourself. You gave him time to adapt, time to breathe before finally making your way through the icy remnants of his scarred heart.

You didn't travel the seven seas with a raft, not at all. You just sold the raft and bought yourself a ticket for a worldwide cruise, enjoying every single moment on the long trip back to him. You gave him patience and waited happily for him to come around.

You didn't just accept your fate to pick the broken china pieces and throw it in the bin, not at all. You just gently assembled it and glazed it with lacquer, painstakingly painting over every crack with gold. You didn't fix him, you just accepted all of his broken pieces, that's all - the rest he did it himself.

It wasnt the fact that you took the easy way out, not at all. It was the fact that you put the effort to think about ways to love him- It was always hard to love Satoru, you just made it easy. So if someone asks Satoru why he loves you so, all he does is smile and answers " no reason at all." He just loves everything about you, he doesn't need a reason to do so.

5 " You don't sound so well, is everything okay? " " More than you could ever know "

20 weeks, 5 months, into your pregnancy and Satoru's already starting to feel uneasy, the change is small, unnoticeable to the normal eye even. But the change is there, his six eyes catching everything. You've gotten weaker, not externally per se but internally. He brings it up once when the two of you cuddle in the bed, you laugh and brush it off by saying," it's only natural." He's not convinced but he doesn't push it, opting to graze the curve of your cheek instead.

Something was really wrong, very, very wrong- You've been rapidly losing weight, the complete opposite of what should be happening. The growing baby bump only makes you grow thinner, finding it hard to even do the basic things, having to rely on Satoru for everything. He'd have been delighted on being relied on some other time but this time he's not, he's more concerned than anything.

The trip to the doctors doesnt change a single thing, every single one of them saying the same thing over and over and over again. "She's fine, just a rare case. It's better than it looks, 'ts just an uncommon case of weight loss during pregnancy." He swears its not, the very molecules that makes up you seems to be slowly but steadily gathering and surrounding one particular place, your belly but how could they know that? They were normal doctors, not some omniscient sorcerer like him.

So he grits his teeth, quietly holding your hand and holding onto his last hope, Shoko. Despite it not being her area of expertise, he can only hope for the best afterall she was a sorcerer too, she has to have the ability to figure it out...doesn't she? All hope comes crashing down when Shoko shakes her head, there was nothing wrong with you, the final verdict.

" I told you, didn't I? It's just an uncommon case, honey. You're too paranoid," you grin and tiredly pat his hand, boney fingers brushing against his. Your engagement ring and wedding ring hanging around a chain on your neck glistens blindingly under the stark hospital light- it became too loose to fit you anymore. Satoru feels slight prickles in his eyes from underneath the blindfold, he doesn't know why but he does. Forcing a tight smile at you, he nods," You might be right dear, but you know I can't help it when it comes to you," he mumbles, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles to hide his falling smile. You chuckle lightly, flushing at the contact," You're such a silly man, 'toru. "

6 " Hmm? Oh I'm fine, don't worry. How's work though? " " And I swear I've tried, I really have "

Problems over problems befall, the number of curses quickly increasing exponentially with no rhyme or reason and the higher-ups pressuring him from all side was taking a toll on him, not to mention your declining health. You looked healthier now, taking the supplements that Shoko provided helped you not look like you were gonna fall dead at any given moment. A farce, Satoru notes, you're healthier on the outside, dying on the inside. He even contemplates getting rid of the thing inside you completely but as if like you read his mind, telepathically catching onto his thoughts, you become more protective.

Hands always wrapped around your belly and eyes instinctively following his every movement, always on sharp alert. Waiting for something to happen, you're not entirely sure for what but you wait. Catching onto your guarded attitude, Satoru drops the idea immediately. He doesn't want you to hate him, he'd die if you did and even he's not sure if he means it figuratively.

He makes sure to coo at your belly every night though, sure he doesn't want a child but that didn't mean he didn't feel any love for it despite the toll it took on you. He just hates it as a husband and loves it as a father- hates it even more as a lover. Hiding his slowly growing apprehension of the unborn child inside you with a mask of an excited father-to-be.

You know Satoru acts off this days especially when he interacts with the baby but you don't say anything, he's a busy man and you were currently out of service which meant double the work, you couldn't possibly have the right to ask him what's wrong, right?

7 " 'Toru, don't worry about me. I'm not mad, I promise. Just try to get your business trip finish a little faster okay? " " So please don't hate me too much "

You're a nervous wreck, anxiety fully settling deep in your bones despite the contractions. The pain was doing nothing to alleviate the turmoil inside you other than making it worse, 7 hours in after your water broke and Satoru is nowhere in sight- you're nervous, in pain and surrounded by strangers. Shoko was kicked out, 'only family members are allowed in' they said, despite your pleas they ignore you. They were gonna have hell to pay later until then you had to push through it by yourself, it couldn't possibly get any worse.

Biting down on your lips after screaming your throat hoarse, you squeeze your eyes shut, the salty taste of your tears mixing in with the metallic ones on your lips only making you want to gag. Slowly, loud words starts to blur and dim as your vision gets hazy, drifting in and out of your consciousness while barely catching sight of the figures hovering around you," I see the head!" One particularly loud statement snaps you back into reality, everything ending too quickly from there with still no sign of your husband anywhere.

With the first cry resounding in the room, your heart rate falls rapidly; the once searing pain only a throb now, a small respite but an unwelcoming one. You wish for the numbing chill to be replaced for the burning pain, praying for the latter if it meant that you could still breathe in the scent of his skin, still comb your fingers through arctic white hair, still stare into his cerulean blue eyes, still lay your head above hi- "I'm sorry" a hushed whisper in the chaos.

The high-pitched beeps flatlines, parallel lines all in all. The silence is too loud and the air too thick, working their way to restart a heart that's already dead and gone. Somewhere in the distance another heart drops, not with the promise of death but of something much worse. What use is a beating heart if the soul is already dead?

8 " I'm sorry I couldn't make it, I swear I tried " " But I can't do it "

Satoru doesn't hate her. No, he abhors her. The feeling of complete hatred and malice against an individual- every babble, every cry, every coo, her very existence disgusts him to the core. Somedays he just wants to snap her neck, it'd be so easy, so quick, so satisfying, so very dreadful. Somedays Satoru even considers it, his long slender fingers wrapping around her small sleeping figure and squeezing just a little, just a twitch but her eyes always flutters open, always gazes at him with a smile, always holds her chubby little arms out to him.

It's not her smile, her voice or his guilty conscience that stops him, it's her eyes. Your eyes. The curve, the shape, the color, the very crinkle reminds him of you, your eyes are staring back at him but it's not you. It'll never be you. Pulling his hand back like he got burned, he rushes out. It's what he always does these days, he runs and runs until he can't anymore, hoping that maybe somewhere along the way, he'll finally find you again.

You're so cruel and so very heartless, if you were gonna leave him in the end you should've never made him love you at all but you did, you did and he loves you. He loves you and you left.

Satoru is always bitter, maybe if she didn't have your eyes then maybe it'd be easier to get rid of her, maybe it'd be easier for him to move on. But you're always there, your first gift being her last saving grace. Your eyes, your first, your life, your last. Maybe you knew about it, you always did say that you wanted a baby that looked like you. He never bothered to ask why because he agreed with you, he always agrees with you, but now he seems to understand why, you always did understand him better than he did himself.

So all he does is mourn, he mourns but he doesn't cry- he didn't cry when he got the news of your death neither did he cry when he saw your body, not a single tear in sight. He just silently stood by your side, gently grazing your face with a finger, hands interlocked with yours until your last moment. And like all sorcerers fate, he watched your body get cremated until nothing but ashes were left in the end. Silently making his way back to a dark and empty house with nothing but the urn of your ash in his hand. He still doesn't cry when he hugs the urn close to his chest and stares at your side of the bed late into the night, he doesn't cry at all.

He doesn't cry because he can't cry. Tears are the embodiment of an emotion, what use are they for a man who's already gone numb?

9 " I love you " " I can't love her "

"Hiiii, 'toru"

"Hey, honey."

"How's everything over there?"

"She's growing up fast, you'd be surprised. She has my hair, y'know? Well, the color at least. It's funny how she's starting to resemble me, it's almost uncanny. She has your eyes though, it's like she copy-pasted your eyes onto hers, it's almost scary because it feels like it's you thats looking back at me sometimes. And well, she started going school now; just wanted to let you know that-"

"Well, that's sounds fun"

"...it's really not, not without you here"

"Aww, you miss me that much~?"

"I do, I miss you so much that it physically hurts"

"Aww I miss you too, honey. Tell you wha-"

Satoru sighs, cutting the saved voice message. What was he even doing, answering to your pre-recorded voice like a deranged person. But maybe he was deranged or tired perhaps both, he's not sure but what he was sure of was the fact that he hated he-

"Papa?"

Satoru hears before he sees, the door swinging open ever so slightly to showcase a pair of eyes, your eyes, meekly looking at him. Your eyes in his face but it's not you neither is it him, it's neither you or him but it's both you and him. It's so conflicting.

"What is it?" His voice softer than he wanted it, harsher than expected.

"I just wanted to show you the drawing I made today in class." Her voice is quiet, her footsteps even quieter as she slowly walks up to him, a rolled up paper carefully held in one tiny fist. She was so small, so tiny, so quiet, so utterly disgusting. Placing it down flat ever so quietly on the table, she takes a step back "It's you, me and...mama" she mumbles, pointing at the three stick figures accordingly.

Satoru pulls his blindfold up and narrows his eyes at the stick figure that was apparently you, your hair was wrong, the color, the length, the very style was wrong. "I-I don't know how mama looks like" she admits, tiny hands grabbing onto her shirt as she looks down.

"Of course, you don't. You killed her, sucked her life-force right out like a fucking parasite" he thinks bitterly to himself, fingers grazing over the paper. Everything was wrong, this whole situation was wrong, but the crudely drawn smile on your face wasn't. The smile wasn't, your smile wasn't. The edges of the crayon smile was raised just perfectly, you smiled just like that, always did even when he-

"Papa?" She calls out, eyes peeking through the soft tufts of arctic white hair- Satoru clears his throat, quietly re-adjusting his blindfold before nodding quickly "it's good, good job." He says, fingers gently outlining the curve of the crayon smile- it's what you would've said to her had you been the one in his place so it's what he'll say to her in your place. "You may leave now"

And don't ever come back.

She nods, reaching out for her drawing but Satoru shakes his head, tugging it closer to him which earns him a surprised reaction, something hopeful glinting in her eyes as she nods and quietly scurries out the door. He sighs when the door closes with a click, standing up and rummaging through his office for a spare frame. You'd have framed it and gushed about it had you been there but you weren't so the least he could do was frame it, he's framing it because it's what you would've done, it's what you would've wanted him to do.

He can't love her for you, he loves you and he'd do anything for you but loving her for you? He can't do that, he's more selfish than that.

Satoru sighs as he carefully puts the drawing in the frame, it's what you would've wanted, it's what you would've done. So he'll do it for you because it's you that loved her.

____________________________________________________________

THIS TOOK SO LONG AND IM FINALLY BACK! I ALSO FOUND A PARTTIME JOB! YAY! Gonna take a lot to buy a new laptop though so wish me luck!

Masterlist

[nipuni]

Back home again! but it won't be home for much longer if everything goes well!

We came back to another Twitter exodus and a Gumroad and Patreon self destruct update apparently? seems like this month almost every company I financially depend on decided to shoot themselves in the foot 😬 I think I will have to come up with another way to make a living from my art soon because it's looking grim lately not gonna lie, I'm making half of what I was making a couple of years ago for the same amount of work and time and it wasn't much to begin with, it's not sustainable 😭 maybe I will start making merch to sell independently? but I have too much on my plate right now to make a plan so I'll figure something out once I'm done with the move.

My mom is undergoing major surgery as I write this and I have two days to pack everything we own in boxes and clean and prepare our apartment to host Nicolas' family that are coming to visit in a couple of days and staying for the holidays and also somehow finish this month's work in a week so I'm a bit stressed out at the moment, now watch me get a migraine and my period lmao 😂

On a lighter note, Rivals is coming out tomorrow!! a series that looks like something we wouldn't watch at gunpoint but we do anything for David in this house, and also Macbeth cinema release announced!!! we are dying to see that one, and then DA in a couple of weeks!! we are so excited 🥰 hopefully will have everything done by the end of the month to rest and enjoy.

Now I'll go catch up with messages and emails and get back to work aaa 😵‍💫

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Read that one with Creator!Reader, who favors Nahida. To be honest! I love her. She is the only one who has tried to help Aether find his sister. And I love Aether, and whoever is kind to him automatically gains my favor.

I haven't finished Fontaine story, so I'm not sure about them.

Nahida Lovers Are gonna be having the Party of a lifetime here 👍 I am going to shove a little bit of Aether into this, but it can also be read as Lumine if other ppl want to :)

Nahida's ALWAYS Off the Hook :D

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

You liked Nahida (platonically, don't get other ideas). She was the only archon that was able to find any information on Aether's sister, and was the only one who made many efforts to find any information regarding Lumine.

It was nice and refreshing for once, to see the Famed Traveler finally getting some help in return of their deeds for the nation. You were so stoked, you started cheering and screaming like this was the best victory you've ever witnessed (it might've actually been).

Nahida, after hearing this, felt even more happy than before. I mean, you were kinda just praising her on the spot for something she thought was just...right to do.

Yet you're making a huge deal out of it. Were the other nations...not that helpful? I mean, the way the Traveler just turned down help and all that was proof, but you praising her for something as simple as this for a "thank you"...Nahida is kinda glad she'll be the first to do it.

It also seems you're starting to favor Nahida alongside the Traveler, which she isn't sure how she feels entirely, but she is for sure happy!

The moment you leave, Nahida's smile is a whole lot bigger, and she's basically grinning from ear to ear. It feels like she truly has spread her wings once the cage was opened. She can only hope her flight can make the Almighty Creator continue to smile and cheer.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I really have no clue if this is meeting expectations or not, but I do hope y'all like it! Usually these one characters aren't really something I usually come around in my mailbox, so this was definitely practice for the future lol!

I might open up my mailbox again, but only for a day or two (maybe, no promises for the re-open). I still have a lot of other requests lying in my mailbox, but it's good to have experience out here :D

Anyways, I hope this helps with the Nahida Lovers :) Remember, Nahida is platonic when your reading my blog!

Also, if you're the people waiting for The Lost Divine God of Celestia, I might have to disappoint you in saying that I think I might discontinue the series all together. I have been trying to write the fourth part of the series, but I just come out with nothing in the end. It's kinda depressing seeing the draft in my draft box sobbing. I'm so sorry, but I'll see how I feel about it before I make an official announcement on the matter.

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[captainofthedauntless]

Wants

Rise Leonardo x Reader imagine

Info + Warnings: Reader needs help wrapping gifts at the last second before a party. Leo's their hero. And a huge distraction. No gendered language, pronouns, or Y.N used for Reader. An attempt at Spanish by a very not Spanish speaking writer. Established relationship. Arguably steamy. Set a few years post movie.

Commentary: IDK what the fuck happened here.

See, here's the thing.

You are extremely, incredibly kissable.

He knows this. He knows this like he knows his swords are sharp. He knows it in his bones.

He also knows you have somewhere to be.

(Really, his motives were good. He came over just to help you finish wrapping your friend's birthday gifts (okay, and give you shit for only now getting around to it). He just wanted to be a supportive boyfriend and make sure you had time to get ready in peace.)

And yet, because he's either an idiot or an asshole, here he is, boxing you in at your table and kissing you.

See, the thing... you look really, really good. And you smiled at him when you walked out of your room, all dressed up and looking forward to the party you're going to and grateful for his help.

And he's only human- turtle- hm.

He's not immune, is his point.

So here you are, getting kissed, and his hands are on your waist and yours are grabbing handfuls of his shirt and he's very, very happy.

It's only when you gasp against him- his hand slipped, okay, he hadn't meant to squeeze your hip like that- and the sound makes his heart skip one beat and crash into another that he realizes- with all of the force of getting hit by a train- that he has to stop.

It's like cutting off his own arm.

But he does it, he pulls back- pushes back against every fiber of his being that wants to keep you close enough that he can almost hear your heartbeat- because you have places to be.

And you deserve much, much better than him being a desperate disaster against your dining table.

Now he's staring.

He's staring and his hands are still on your waist and your hip and he has to stop. Has to. Needs to. Like, muy rápido, right now, yesterday has to stop.

"...Hi," He says, voice all shaky and gooey through his grin.

"Hi," You repeat, a little dazed as you're still clinging to his shirt.

You're smiling at him again. He's not sure you ever stopped.

Shit. Fuck. He has to walk away.

He wants to keep you there for the rest of your natural lives.

"You gotta go," He mutters grimly, and he realizes how fucked it sounds immediately, and he throws himself into an uncharacteristically jumbled explanation because his brain is still offline. "It's late- you gotta- the thing- I'm- fuck I don't want to stop kissing you."

You cock your head as you process his messy babble, blinking twice, and then you're laughing.

And then he's laughing, because really it's that or take one of your butter knives and portal himself into the ocean, and if he does that he can't do this again.

"I gotta go," You confirm with a wry, bittersweet smile, not letting go of his shirt.

It's going to be so wrinkled.

He literally could not give less of a fuck.

"You gotta go," He repeats, more to himself than you, and you must know that because you're laughing again and you must really not care about... whatever urgent thing you have to go to... whatever that was, because you're not helping him stop like. At all.

You're gonna be the death of him one day.

"Maybe... you could come back by tonight? We could watch that stupid racing movie you've been talking about-"

"It's a heist movie, thank you-"

"-And, uh..."

"Don't say chill. I'll explode. I'll expire."

"I was trying to say cuddle," You say, bashful and exasperated at the same time, somehow. As though he'd ever say no. As if he knows how to say no to you. As though he ever, ever stood a chance.

It's beyond cute. It's enough to make him want to squish you and literally never let you go.

"You gotta go," He groans, his hands darting up to cup your cheeks and squeeze your face softly. "You're gonna drive me insane. What even is this again?"

"Birthday party."

"They'll have another-"

"Leo!" You laugh over his playful persuasion.

"You can send a card-"

"Leo."

"I'll pay for postage. I'll lick the stamp."

"Leonardo," You breathe, all fond exasperation, as though you'd ever let go of his shirt. As though you're any better than he is.

He almost wants to push just a little farther, see what else he can get you to call him.

He really wants to.

He wants a lot of things around you.

And even more when he's not around you.

And now, he's facing min-ee-mum four hours being not around you.

He hates it.

He takes the feeling and balls it up and three-point-shoots it into his mind's trashcan, because you deserve to go and have fun and be merry and all that jazz. He gets you to himself enough- never enough, literally never enough- that he can share.

Plus, he did a fantastic job wrapping those gifts.

And, as easily as he twists and leads and convinces other people, he's played himself right into a corner, because now it's both you deserve him being normal here AND his ego.

He'd be impressed by himself if it weren't for the fact that it means he loses.

He shakes his head a little, because he lost the plot minutes ago and you really gotta go and he's still got you against the table.

"Movie night?" He asks, just to hear you talk. He knows the answer.

"Movie night," You confirm happily, releasing his shirt.

He whines a little. He's barely even embarrassed at this point.

You laugh again and smooth the fabric out, hands warm on his plastron and making him a little insane again, before you press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for your help, honey."

"Thank me by making sure those are put front and center on the table, yeah?"

You glance at the boxes- done up in blue ribbon, you notice- and nod. "Art deserves to be displayed," You say seriously, and he's dangerously close to kissing you again because you're perfect.

"Yoooou-"

"Gotta go?" You finish with a knowing grin, eyes smug, head tilted playfully, perfect.

"Extremely, extremely yes. If you don't go I'm never gonna let you go. You gotta go."

"Hm..."

"Nope!" He says quickly, cutting off whatever tease is about to come out of your mouth, clinging to his sanity by half a thread. "Nope, nope, you are taking those boxes and you are going and you're going to have a great time and be safe and that is final."

"Are you telling me or yourself?"

Perfect. The death of him. Smug and clever and kissable and the worst and the best.

"Both, apparently."

"...I can be a few minutes late-"

"Baby, gorgeous, mi vida, if you don't get out of this apartment-"

You laugh bright and mischievous and delightful, and you press a quick kiss to his lips, and you scoop up the gifts and your keys ("You can port out, right?" "I think I'll manage.") and your phone and wallet and he grabs the door for you, because he's a gentleman (unwilling to be an inch farther from you than he has to).

"See you tonight," You promise, turning back to look him in the eye with more open affection than he was ready to see outside his own reflection.

"See you tonight," He agrees, knowing he sounds lovesick.

You leave, he closes the door, he slumps forwards to rest his forehead against it as he turns the lock and laughs breathlessly because his chest feels like it's going to explode from how much of it is just you.

[waltat04-kevinknight]

(Credit to @evenmorefatallyobsessed as he is the creator of these pictures)

Jaune was sitting on a park bench waiting as he looked at the current news on his Scroll humming a tune before his attention was caught.

"Jaune~, sorry we're late!" A feminine voice called out to him as Jaune turned his head and smiled at the voice and blushed when he saw the two older women standing.

"H-Hello Jaune," Willow said shyly as Jaune admired her light blue shirt and deep blue skirt outfit

"W-Wow you two look absolutely gorgeous" Jaune says blushing as he stands up and the two woman smile and walk to each of his side and plant a kiss on his cheek, with Willow doing a shy kiss on the cheek while Kali does a more tender cheek kiss.

"Are you two ready for our date?" Jaune asked the two women as they nodded and walked with him through the park , enjoying their time together with their boyfriend.

Jaune knew Weiss and Blake weren't happy that he was dating their mothers but Weiss quickly got over it since Jaune is a far better man than her father and Kali lost her husband and needed tender love, both thins Jaune could provide. And both Weiss and Blake knew Jaune needed all the love he could get after everything he's been through, losing Pyrrha at the Fall, having to take Penny's life and then being alone for 30 years. They both couldn't be mad at him if he found happiness in their mother's, and they couldn't think of a batter person for them.

"So I booked us a reservation at a high-end restaurant in the city at 7 tonight I'll pick you two up at six?" Jaune asked them as they nodded.

Kali placed her hands on Jaune's cheeks and pulled him in for a deep tender kiss, tongue, and all, while Willow did the same but was the more submissive one as Jaune took control of the kiss. The two women waved goodbye and walked off with Kali, having her hand on Willow's hips teasing Jaune of what's to come.

Later that day, Jaune was wearing a black suit as he knocked on an apartment door, and it was long before he was greeted by his two lovers.

"Hello darling~ hope you like our dresses" Willow and Kali said union as they both kisses his cheek.

"Oh, you look so handsome, honey," Kali says, admiring Jaune's suit.

"And you two look beautiful and delicious~" Jaune flirted to them as he placed his hands on their hips. "Jeez Kali, no outfit can contain that bakery, huh~?" Jaune asked, making Kali smile.

"That's right darling and maybe if you're good.~ I'll treat you to some of our cake~," Kali cooed as Willow blushed.

Jaune held them by their hips and led them to the restaurant where he pulled out their chairs as they sat down and had a good time, and even ran into Blake and Yang.

"Hey Jaune, how's the date going?" Yang asked smiling.

"Great we just finished our food and we're getting ready to leave, how about you and Blake?" Jaune asked as Blake perked up.

"Oh, we had fun, and we were just about to head back to the apartment to enjoy a movie. I'll let Weiss know how you three are doing. Thanks for being their for my mom. Jaune, see you around," Blake says, leaving with Yang.

Jaaune smiles and stands up, offering his hands to Kali and Willow, who take his hands and lead him back to the apartment and it wasn't long before Kali and Willow's dresses were on the floor, Willow's ass was in the air, cum flowing out of her pussy. While Kali was getting her pussy fucked with no mercy.

"Fuck Willow he's gonna break me~!" Kali moaned as she brought Willow close and kissed her making Jaune even more turned on as he smack Kali's massive bakery making her moan into the kiss.

Jaune kept thrusting as he watched Kali's massive ass ripple and jiggle from how hard he was fucking her old milf pussy.

"Yes, fill me out, my stud~!" She moaned as she felt Jaune cum in her pussy and pull out.

"Girls, I've been been to ask you something for a while now," Jaune says, walking Iverson to his discarded suit and going into its pockets, pulling out two ring boxes and comes back to them.

Kali helps Willow sit up as the two watch Jaune get down and one knee and open each box and drop the question.

"Willow Schnee, Kali Belladonna. Willow you do me the honor of marrying m-" Jaune began to asked only to be tackled by the two woman.

"Yes!" Kali and Willow said as he pepper him with kisses after he put the rings on their fingers.

[takes1]

I'm gonna start by saying that your fics are amazing! I love the way you write and I always get immersed in them. I would like to request an Osamu x reader fic, i was thinking about a childhood friends pining for a decade!au happening while working in his Onigiri shop, you might add Suna if you want,perhaps as a love triangle and misunderstandings as in Osamu thinking that the reader like Suna. As for the smut, I'll leave that to you 👀

thank you so much for supporting!! i love getting these requests and hearing from you! it really helps. not gonna lie, this one challenged me, but i think it turned out well! hope i got this right :) thanks again for the request love

warnings. lite!nsfw. minors DNI info. hq lite!nsfw / safe consent practices / mutual pining / some angst, some hurt, but pay-off / husband material!osamu / timeskip!osamu / childhood friends to lovers / miscommunication / r.i.p suna's unrequited feelings / misunderstandings / osamu gives great hugs / osamu is a wine snob / osamu is a little shy / 2.5k words 🤍haikyuu collection. more of my hq here more links. my ao3 / masterlist / request box is open so give me some ideas pls!

Your heart gave an all-too familiar squeeze at the sight of an old friend.

There he was, clad in a black cap, apron, and a well-fitting shirt. His face was one of slight concentration, his mouth in a straight line, jaw flexed. A strong arm lifted the black bag he carried high into the trash in the alley with ease.

"'Samu!" His nickname was like a sigh of reassurance on your tongue.

He turned, a stern face letting up as soon as he recognized you coming towards him. He quickly discarded his gloves in the trash and made forward to meet you. It ended in a hug in the middle of the sidewalk.

Business was so slow today, he really wasn't expecting any surprises- especially not any pleasant ones.

"(Y/n)." Was a mumble against your hair, charged relief on his breath. He was lifting you off of your feet and melting into you at the same time.

Your eyes stung a little when you tucked your face into his comforting shoulder. It'd been so long since graduation, but everything was coming back to you, all at once, against your will.

Maybe it was because you could still taste the onigiri you just finished, but those lunches he used to prepare for you kept cropping up. You weren't sure why it kept making you want to cry, though.

"I missed you!" You whispered, swallowing a sob.

He gave you a crushing squeeze in return. He certainly hadn't stopped working out since your high school days. There was a hesitation in letting each other go.

"God," His quick blinking made you feel better for getting emotional, "What are you doin' all the way out here?"

You sniffled and turned to Suna, briefly forgotten at the table, "I told you those fillings tasted familiar!"

There was an unmistakable shock in Osamu's eyes when you turned back to him, "We were just grabbing lunch. I had no idea 'Onigiri Miya' would actually mean you!"

He missed the natural beat to respond- instead of letting your declaration die, you kept up the attempt to rekindle things.

"Did you get a new number?" You asked, quieter, trying to catch his eye, so you leaned your head further between him and Suna.

He looked down at you with a much softer expression, "Hm?"

"I- texted you a couple months ago, I just assumed you got a- new number," You trailed.

It felt a bit forced and loser-esque to ask the reason why he hadn't texted you back. Two months was a while to get 'caught up' in something, after all.

If he didn't want to talk to you, he technically didn't owe you an explanation.

He blinked. It didn't cross his mind that you would've texted him-- his fingers fumbled for his phone in his pocket to show you a new iPhone.

"Yeah," He sighed, "Shit, I didn't think to tell anyone but 'Sumu..."

This time, he felt like the loser. He didn't have many people to text, nowadays. But he certainly didn't want you and Suna to know that.

Relief flashed across your face as you admitted in a light laugh, "Oh, thank god. I really thought you were ignoring me!"

"Let's all exchange numbers," You suggested.

You looked back to Suna and thought you saw some hostility in his eyes, "So we can all meet up sometime, when you're not working."

The process of getting each other's contacts was quiet and stilted. You thought better of making plans here and now, because there was an indescribable feeling that something was wrong.

Maybe the timing.

Osamu frowned at his phone after getting it back from Suna.

Maybe the place.

Suna gave a subtle sigh when Osamu put his number in.

Your text to Osamu that night garnered a response so quick that it made up for the months of uncertainty and pseudo-grieving. Your oldest friendship was not buried as deep in the ground as you had previously thought.

It ended in a suggestion you weren't expecting.

There was nowhere you both wanted to eat at, and no activities you could think of that would allow for the long conversations you both favored.

I could cook for us.

You knew better than to deny him the chance to cook, but it was clear to both of you that it felt a little too forward. A little too intimate for just two good friends.

That wasn't enough to keep you from agreeing immediately.

Certain that he didn't feel the same, you rationalized that you had nothing to worry about.

Dark red swirled slow, unending circles in your glass. You weren't one for red, but he brought out a vintage just for you tonight.

The perfectly plated dinner in front of you didn't last long. Osamu made it so easy to like foods you swore up and down you hated; you didn't question his choices despite your usual pickiness.

There were a number of times you had to pretend not to notice him watching you eat. He was pretty obvious, because he'd raise his spoon full of food, then let it hover mid-air, and turn his whole head to watch you chew. It was as if he was waiting for you to declare it was the worst thing you'd ever tasted.

He was still working on his -most likely cold- plate minutes after you cleaned yours off. It left you to catch up to him in glasses of wine. The bottle was nearing empty and you were still on your first.

"Do you have any roommates?" You asked, glancing around a spacious apartment.

It was so still. You'd surely die of loneliness, if you were him.

He shook his head. It made sense with his preference for solitude, but it still made you sit back and sip on your wine to keep from voicing your concern.

"It's quiet," Osamu wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed his plate forward, "I know."

Was your discomfort that obvious?

His chuckling won out over your insistence that it wasn't that bad, and you eventually were resolved back to slouching in your chair again.

"You just need some- flowers," You motioned to the center of the table, not believing in your advice in the slightest, "Or... something like that."

"To be fair, I never sit at the table."

He poured the last of the wine into his glass. You stared down at yours. He still spoke and acted stone-cold sober. You had to wonder how much he drank, with this bleak living space.

"Not a fan of Merlot?"

This was getting a little embarrassing.

This time, you gave in, "Not feeling this one as much."

His brow raised. He had a layered expression, like he was torn between two sides of himself for a split-second.

He eased up and slid his elbows on the table, wine glass looking absurdly tiny in his hand.

You admired the gentle way he held the delicate glass, how he knew just how the weight was supposed to be distributed in the webs of his fingers.

"You drink wine much?" He had that completely immersed look on his face that was always so difficult to return.

He mistook your trouble to return his gaze as discomfort, and laughed, retracting his body from the table, "I-'m sorry--,"

"No-no it's okay-!" You put your hand on his arm and scooted your chair closer to affirm that you didn't mind his proximity -that you in fact welcomed it- and rambled, "I- don't, drink wine like that. So I- wouldn't really know what's good."

His gaze sent a shiver surging through your whole body. What an intense pair of eyes. He leaned forward on his elbows, thumb rubbing his freshly shaved cheek.

"It's an expensive hobby."

You were wracking up inappropriate questions by the second. First, the lack of love in his sad apartment, then his potential alcohol issues, now his salary.

The quiet clink of his glass on the table. A heavy, warm hand stilled yours on his arm, and he caught your troubled gaze.

"But it's just a hobby," He smiled.

The apartment filled with shared laughter. You were getting read like an open book, you couldn't help but cool your face down with the back of your hand.

"I-I promise, I'm not trying to judge," You sighed and grinned at what you noticed as his slightly tipsy giggling, "I just... care about you."

Osamu took a breath to say something, but something else flickered across across his face.

His hand was starting to slip from yours.

"So, you and Suna again?"

You laughed at what you thought was a joke. He didn't return it; instead, he let go and took another big sip from his almost empty glass.

"Oh-," You realized he was mistaken, "We're not together."

"Mm!" He swallowed and laughed, "Oh- that's good."

His focus faltered with a small cough, "I mean, not good, but-,"

"That's not something I want to go back to," You saved his embarrassing admission gracefully and looked away, only thinking about that short-lived relationship in high school.

Suna was just a distraction. A temporary filler for your unbearable emptiness. You never stopped loving Osamu, even when you had everyone else fooled. In the end, Suna just made you miss your friend more, since it sparked an unspoken drift in the process. It wasn't one of your brightest moments.

The look on his face was asking for more information. A 'So... why?' was on the tip of his tongue. You saved him the breath.

"He reached out. I was free, and I wanted to make sure we were alright after things ended like that."

Osamu nodded slowly, swirling half a sip of wine in his glass with careful consideration.

"You talk about it like you never liked him," He sighed against the rim, then shot it back in a way that made you realize why he was drinking so much.

He didn't have the courage to talk to you like this without it.

Your thumb, still resting on his forearm, rubbed thoughtfully. If he was being this candid through his actions, you didn't mind coming clean about a few things.

"I didn't," You admitted in a breathy half-laugh, "It wasn't real to me."

You shut your eyes tight and seethed, "I know that sounds so cruel--,"

"Yeah," He chuckled.

"Okay- I meant it like..." Your thumb was tapping on his raised skin, "I needed a distraction. You know I was struggling. He really was sweet. I know I should've treated him better."

It was clear that there was no hero to the story. You were all flawed, to some degree. Osamu's hand returned to yours. This time, he squeezed.

"You know I don't judge you for that."

All things considered, that break-up was still fresh. It was only briefly before your graduation date.

"Hey-," He reached up to turn your head towards him. It was a bit much and left you both warm and fidgety, "You know that I know that you're a good person."

His hand fell to your forearm.

It was fleeting, but you felt an energy between you. It was different. It filled that space in your heart you'd long since carved out for him.

Fleeting must be reiterated, because it was gone in an instant as he cleared his throat and stood, collecting the dishes in one trip with skill you could only attribute to the nature of his work.

You chugged the rest of your wine with a shudder so it wouldn't go to waste and skittered after his swift movement towards the kitchen.

If there was any place in the house that didn't feel lifeless, it was the kitchen. Spacious and clean, sure, but every tool and appliance here was cared for and used often.

It distracted you to slow down.

There was a level of respect you felt was necessary for a space so important to Osamu.

He began washing the dishes.

"Please let me do something," You begged from behind him.

All you got was a stoic head shake.

You leaned on the countertop behind him, staring at his back in that clean, black shirt. Would you ever get over him?

His words and actions from tonight turned over in your head. That hug you shared yesterday afternoon made your hands slip from the counter.

It may have been the wine that inspired your resolve to actually follow through, but your motivation did have years of pent-up desire behind it.

His body stiffened at the feeling of your arms around his waist, the side of your face pressed against his warm back. He smelled like a woody, musky cologne.

"Thank you," You muttered, mostly for his kind words, but its roots extended much farther than just recent events.

The sound of the water shutting off encouraged you to loosen your grip. The doubt started settling in as he dried his hands with a hanging towel, wordless.

His hands just barely grazed yours as you retracted, heart racing at the fact that you couldn't take that back.

He turned around to face you. Your eyes were busy avoiding his, so you were taken by surprise when he leaned down to pick you up from the waist.

It was just as easy and comfortable as the first time-- his shoulders spacious enough to bury yourself in, his hold so secure you didn't have to spare any strength holding on. He could support you all day.

A breathy groan, like he was a settling house, brushed your ear and sent tingles down your spine.

He set you down, but guided your arms to stay around his neck. You looked back and forth between his eyes, no longer unsure about his feelings.

"I missed you so much."

He was a clumsy kisser, but you didn't mind.

His hands were skilled and sure. It was more than enough to make up for his hungrier, rather than soft kisses.

One kept you steady by the back of your head, the other taking up your entire shoulder to guide you backwards against the kitchen island.

He rendered you breathless quickly- you pulled away for just a moment and he took it as a good sign to lift you up onto the countertop.

No part of you questioned this intense show of affection-- it felt like a fitting release of years-long tension and unspoken feelings.

They still remained unspoken, for the most part, but it could wait.

His hips pushed hard against your own, eliciting a soft, fluttery sound against his mouth.

He ate it up, wanting another so bad that one hand grabbed at the bend in your hip and thigh to keep you against him.

Your tummy twisted in a mixture of delightful pleasure and desire, everything below your waist all giddy and jittery as his fingers squeezed your hips with a need you never knew he was harboring.

Thighs trembling with nerves, his steady grasp pushing down helped to calm and stall you. You caught your breath with your forehead pressed against his. You unhooked your legs.

"W-hat?" You swallowed, praying to God this wasn't some mistake.

His wine-flushed face answered your question with no response.

"We shouldn't...I'm not--," He bit his cheek at his own restraint, brow tight with regret at his own actions from earlier.

You nodded, a little buzzed yourself, and laughed at his concern, "I'm okay with just kissing."

my masterlist.

requests are open!

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Divisa; One

Parings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word Count; 3,052

Themes; reality hopping, alternative universe (same universe, just things are a little different), doppelganger, multiple endings, slowburn

Warnings; swearing, maybe an existential crisis or two

Notes; Hey guys! Divisa is finally out!! This won't be following the original story at all. Just bits and pieces here and there. This is going to be different compared to “Twist of Fate”– it's also going to be shorter. I'd say possibly fifteen chapters? There will be five different endings; Four endings will be with each love interest and the fifth will be with all of them. The original MC will not be a white lotus (aka someone who seems sweet, but is actually a bitch) and certain things will be changed. This is based on the universe of LADS, but the whole in-game story doesn't mean anything– unless I mention it specifically! You'll see what I mean.

It’s gonna have a bit of a slow start, but I hope you stick around for it regardless! If there's any smut, it'll be in the endings. So, this is only rated as mature purely for all of the swearing! (ps I'm sorry for naming the reader's father, but I felt it was necessary to do so)

Also! This will have a sporadic upload schedule, so if I finish a chapter, I'll post it soon after. There's no specific day I'll upload this <3 Hope that's okay.

prev || next

☆ Masterlist ☆

Divisa

//Latin and Italian for: Divided//

||adj.||

Split into parts; separated

Not united; in disagreement

○o。. .。o○

“Seriously, how much shit does Grandma have up here?” Another box joins the stack of five and you wipe sweat from your forehead with your sleeve.

It was your day off today and while you'd love to spend it relaxing, instead you offered to help your elderly grandma clean out her attic— because “you're her favourite grandchild”, her words…You were her only grandkid.

You had already been there for well over an hour, cleared out five boxes so far, and grandma still wasn't home yet. She was at the farmer's market before you even arrived, so she should've been back by now, but you know your grandma is a chatterbox. She'd yap her whole life away if she could.

You take your jacket off and tie it around your waist, slinging your mini-backpack on once more– it's a habit to always have it on you. You never know when you might need something. Like your chapstick, hand sanitizer, a pen…It's almost a mystery how the bag isn't heavy as hell with how much junk is in it–

You head back up the stairs and glance around at the almost empty attic. You wondered what exactly grandma was going to do with the place after it was clean– maybe she'd turn it into a room for you? You shake your head at the thought and go back to moving boxes.

With a heavy box in hand, you head back toward the stairs. The box slips just slightly within your clammy hands and you bring your knee up to help keep a hold of it. This, however, causes you to fall. Your shoulder slams into the sharp corner of an even heavier box and something on top of the box makes a loud noise as it hits the hardwood floor.

You suck in a deep breath to disguise the pain in your shoulder and quickly roll over to check on the fallen object, internally hoping it wasn't something really valuable. But once you spot it, you're confused.

It was…a jewelry box?

Your grandma wasn't one to wear jewelry, so this was out of the ordinary. The wooden box also seems pretty…old.

You pick up the weathered box and lift the lid to make sure the hinge still works. That's whenever you notice something wrapped in a cloth.

You set the box to the side and pick up the cloth. It was hefty, so there must be some kind of jewelry wrapped up in it. Maybe a necklace?

You unwrap it and before you can look at the necklace, a signature at the corner of the cloth catches your eye.

It was your grandpa's name.

You have never personally met the man, but your grandma loved to tell stories about him. The stories were a little…odd, but you would blame that on her being old and the possible beginnings of dementia. She would tell tales of another time period entirely, how grandpa was a prince and she was wrongly deemed as a saint, how she had to run away with your mother and grandpa couldn't come back here with them…

While it was a beautiful story, you often wondered if it was just a coping mechanism and something bad had happened to your grandpa, but you didn't dare ask your mother.

It seems as if the men in your family were never present, so maybe…there's a curse that only affects the men? Seeing as your father wasn't present either, but your mom had so many pictures of him. You even kept a picture of the two of them in your wallet.

Those thoughts aside, it seems like grandpa was an actual person, at least…even though this cloth– handkerchief, you realize– appeared to be just as old as the box itself, but that can't be possible.

You shake your head and set the handkerchief back into the jewelry box, turning your attention to the necklace.

It was honestly a rather beautiful gemstone necklace. It almost seemed familiar somehow, like you've seen it in a Marvel movie or something. It was a deep red-wine coloured stone with silver wire coiled around it like a vine. It hung from a thin, silver chain.

It was pretty and you did love collecting shiny things, so maybe you could ask your grandma if you could keep it. You pocket the necklace for now and, as you go to stand back up, you spot a piece of folded up paper on the floor. You grab the paper between two fingers and open it up. The tiny scrap of paper only has four words written on it.

The Reality Stone || Aether

Aether?

That word seems…oddly familiar to you. Why– oh, right!

Your phone buzzes with a notification.

‘Rafayel is waiting for you’

A scoff slips from your lips and you shake your head. You did need to check up on your game today and do your dailies…and you did make a huge dent in the attic, so you're sure your grandma would allow you to rest for the remainder of the day. Then, tomorrow, she could help you with the rest!

With your decision made, you put your phone away and descend down the stairs. But then, your pocket feels oddly warm. Intensely so– It's like it was burning a hole through your jeans and you pause mid-step to grab the necklace from your pocket, but you miss a step with your heel and you feel your body fall forward.

Panic spreads throughout your chest, because you know this won't be a pain-free tumble. You'd be lucky to escape with just a sprained ankle or wrist. Your eyes squeeze shut on impulse and instead of your body slamming into hardwood, you felt a face full of…grass?

“What the fuc—”

As you sit up in a panic, your body freezes.

…how the hell did you end up outside?

You scan your surroundings, but you don't recognize where you are.

You're surrounded by jasmines. Beautiful, fragrant flowers as far as the eye can see. A couple of scattered cherry blossom trees, but you were not in a forest. You were just on the outskirts of a city.

With a sigh, you take the reason for your troubles out of your pocket. The necklace. You give the red gem the dirtiest look you can muster before reluctantly clipping it around your neck. If this is what sent you here, you might as well keep it safe, until you figure out how to get back home. Then, you grab your phone.

Maybe…it just sent you to the next city over and your grandma could come pick you up.

You take a deep breath and unlock your phone, but your thumb freezes before you can tap anything.

“The date…What in the..” You can't even finish your sentence. You were so confused and panic was beginning to sink in. “It's 2048?! This…must be a joke, right?”

You rake your fingers through your hair and rise to your feet. “It's fine. Let's try calling grandma,” you murmur to yourself. You try to keep your breathing calm, but you can already feel yourself beginning to panic as you hold the phone up to your ear.

It rings…and rings…and rings…

“This number is no longer in service—”

“Whatever. Seriously, whatever. This is fine. Great, even. Everything is a-ohhhkay. Perfectly normal.” You pocket your phone and rest your head in your hand for a moment, then you take a deep breath and nod your head.

“Alright, I should head to the city first. No use freaking out. It's not like that'll get me home any faster.” You clench your hand into a fist and desperately hope you'll at least be able to reach the city before nightfall…

…The good news is, the city wasn't far at all. Well, it was far, but not three-hours-away type of far! So, you made it well before dark. According to your phone, it was only 5pm so you still had time to find a place for the night. Hopefully whatever place you decide to stay will take your cash…but who knows maybe 2024 money is outdated in 2048.

“I'm sorry, we don't take this form of payment anymore.”

This was the third hotel you've checked tonight…You take a seat on a bench near a large water fountain and hold your head in your hands. Even if it's twenty-four years in the future, they should still take your cash! This is insane–

As you tilt your head back to wallow in your sadness, you notice a billboard in the distance and you can feel the blood drain from your face.

“No, no, no—”

You whip out your phone, making sure you have all your apps before you click on one specific one. You quickly tap the screen, murmuring, “Come on…come on..” And once the game finally loads in, you navigate to the guidance tab.

“The Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034…fourteen years ago. Fourteen plus 2034,” you nervously mutter as you chew on your thumbnail. “That's 2048…that billboard clearly said Linkon City.” You hold your hand over your mouth as dread fills your stomach.

You weren't in the real world…of course that's why your cash wouldn't work. Were you in a coma? Did the fall hurt your head?

No…if that were the case, you wouldn't have taken your bag with you, you wouldn't feel so panicky and cold right now…or could you? You could be self aware and in a coma. But you didn't want to be, so you decided to brush the most realistic thought aside.

“They recognized this money, so maybe…” In the real world, old money could sell for a lot. Especially when it comes to collectors. So maybe you could find someone who would buy all of your old cash. That would definitely work for now, but what about in the future? You'd need money for however long you're going to be here…ugh, does that mean you need to find a job?

Wait…

Wanderers and evols.

There were creatures here.

The thought sends shivers down your spine and you shrug your bag off to put your jacket back on.

As long as you didn't go into a rift you should be fine, right? You're almost positive wanderers never came out to terrorize people—

Your thoughts are cut off by a loud scream and your head jerks in the direction of it with wide eyes.

There was a big ass blue portal in the middle of the street and fucking creatures were coming out of it!?

What the hell was your luck today??

You sling your bag back on, getting ready to run before a bright light blinds you and you shield your eyes. Squinting them to try and see where the light was coming from.

Once the light faded, your heart stuttered in your chest.

A tall man stood in the center of the road as the blue rift dissipates. His wispy, ash-blonde hair blowing in the wind as he turns his head to the side to talk to his companion next to him. From where you are, you can just barely make out his blue eyes.

Xavier?

Then…who was next to him—

Y…You?

You slowly pull up your hood as you stare at the uncanny sight.

While she clearly didn't share the same hair or body type as you, everything else was…identical. Her eyes, her face…It was like looking in a mirror.

You were the main character, but you were not, at the same time.

“Y/n, are you sure you're not overexerting yourself?” You could barely hear his voice over the wind, but your breath catches in your throat at your name coming from Xavier’s lips.

“I'm fine, I promise.” You– She replies with a small, almost pained, smile.

“This is some bullshit,” you murmur under your breath, tapping your finger against your leg as you think about the unfairness of the situation.

Seriously!? You were brought here and you– gosh, you really need to come up with a name for her before this gets confusing. Gemini? Sure, that works.

You were brought here and Gemini was already here?? It's so unfair to have two yous in the same timeline, especially when one already had a head start!

The male leads would definitely sacrifice you for her. They'd probably even tear out your heart, thinking it would fix hers.

You tug at your hair with a small groan of annoyance.

Fuck. Fuck–

Deep breaths...

“Alright. I guess I'm staying up tonight.” You finally compose yourself and set your sight on a neon sign just across the road. “The Nest seems like a good place to start. I could sell this old cash and hopefully get enough for a room tonight.” You pull out a black face mask from your bag and put it on so only your eyes are uncovered.

You'd have to be careful since you and Gemini were identical. You really didn't want to get kidnapped instead of her. Being the main character of an otome game is tough work and, honestly, she can have it. You didn't want to get involved.

It's not like the male leads would ever spare a second glance at you, so you'd surely be fine…Right?

☆ミ

The bell overheard chimes as you step inside the dimly lit bar. The smell of cheap liquor and smoke hitting your nose through the mask and you hold back the urge to cough.

Act cool…

You take a seat at the bar, drumming your fingers against the marbled counter as an employee makes his way over to you.

Without saying a word, you slide a 2017 quarter toward him and he raises a brow before placing an embossed business card down in front of you.

Okay, so if you remember correctly, whatever you write on here will disappear and then, the bartender will take the card and leave. If you have someone who is interested, he'll be back with a drink for you.

You grab a pen from the table and quickly scribble down on the paper.

‘Anyone interested in old money’

Honestly, you should probably be a bit careful, but you had no other way to gain information besides taking a few risks.

The ink disappears and the bartender takes the card, nodding at you before making his way to the back.

You just hope the glass wasn't black, though you doubt it. If the glass was black, it would mean you'd need to pay a high price for information– Perhaps your life. However, since you were only looking for a potential buyer, the chances of the glass being black were slim to none.

The employee comes back with a dark green shot glass and sets it down.

You look up at him with a raised brow and the employee decides to take pity on you, tapping the counter next to the glass. “Green means someone is interested and they're willing to pay a lot.” Then, he jerks his head in the direction of the stairs– the same stairs you recall Rafayel walking up before the main character got caught in one of the more recent chapters.

“After you drink this, head upstairs and it's the first door on your right.”

You nod your head and turn your body as you pull down your mask. You can't afford to let anyone see your face. You quickly down the shot and pull your mask back up, the liquid burning as it goes down your throat.

As an extra payment, you give the bartender a 2008 penny– borrowing change from your grandma was good in times like this. You had so many old coins, though your cash was closer to 2024. Either way, you still be able to make some money since they'd be over twenty-four years old.

Then, you leave the bar and head up the stairs. Your hand lightly hovering above the railing until you reach the top, then you head into the room on the right.

It appeared to be a VIP room.

An angled couch lined one half of the wall with a short table in the center. A few unopened drinks and a suitcase sat atop the table and in the corners of the room, near another door were two men. Bodyguards, maybe?

You take your seat, putting your mini-bookbag on your lap so you could be ready to show off your cash– glad that your mask covered half of your face because you were starting to feel a little nervous.

After a few minutes of waiting, your nervousness turns to annoyance.

You roll your sleeves up and pull your hood down as if to show the bodyguard that you're safe and they can let their guy in now. Then, you lean back on the couch and cross your arms over your chest.

Seriously, how long would this dick keep you waiting—

The door across the room swings open and someone…familiar steps inside.

Well, that's just peachy, isn't it?

You try not to let your surprise show and sit up straight as the white haired man takes a seat in front of you and makes himself comfortable.

“You seem a little too young to be in possession of old money. Did you steal it perhaps?” As Sylus speaks with one hand, you can feel nervousness sinking in once more. You clear your throat and pull out your wallet, tossing it toward him.

“See for yourself.” You jerk your chin, hands resting on your knees. “I've even got old coins.” You take out your coin purse. “My family used to collect them, but since I've got nowhere to go…I might as well sell them now.” You shrug, doing your best to concoct a story on the spot.

“Hmm…” Sylus pulls the bills out of your wallet, holding them under a light, before he nods. Though his eyes do falter on something in your wallet.

You know it’s not your ID or anything, since you made sure to take that out beforehand, but maybe the picture of your mom and dad?

As if to prove you right, Sylus takes the picture out, holding it between two fingers as he flips it over to inspect the back.

“What's a Deepspace Hunter's daughter doing at the Nest?” His eyes flick toward you and he raises an eyebrow.

A…

Huh?

I hope y'all liked this chapter! It's going a bit slow, but it should be fine! I'm honestly not sure where to go from here, I'm just making it up on the spot. I have a loose plot from beginning to end, but I don't really have anything in the middle. So...

It'll be fine!

I'm sure y'all didn't expect your father to be from this universe! (I'll apologize again for giving him a name lmao) I'm also gonna say sorry beforehand if Sylus or anyone else seems a bit out of character— I'm doing my best.

Taglist; @ladyparamount , @the-love-of-my-life96 , @rui-drawsbox , @deputy-videogamer

[squinch-depraved]

thinking a lot about charlie lately

you hated that you had to leave your boyfriend for even a few minutes, but an indefinite work trip? he was going to fall apart without you here to keep him glued together. you were the thing that kept him whole, kept him going. he was so used to following you around like a lost puppy, what was he going to do without you here?

and not to even mention how horny he was for you nearly 24/7- you were constantly on his mind; the promise of being able to bury his face into your chest after finishing a long project was sometimes the only thing that spurred him to complete his tasks. you adored him, cherished how sweet he was and how seemingly addicted he was to you. it was one of your favorite things about him, how absolutely whipped he was for you. you tried not to let it go to your head too often.

but here he was, sat on the couch, waiting patiently for you to get home from your long day. he knew you would have to leave for your trip soon and was eager to spend any time with you that he could before you were gone until further notice. his face lit up when your keys jangled in the lock, you cursed under your breath as you struggled to open it and let out a deep sigh when you finally got the door open. a smile crossed your lips as you took in the sight of your boyfriend sitting there, and you admired what a good boy he was for you while you locked the door behind you.

"what's that?" he asked inquisitively, gesturing to the package under your arm. "i didn't think i heard anything get delivered," he said, apologetic.

"it's something i picked out for you to help you while i'm gone," you replied. "don't feel bad, i had this delivered to a friend's house so you wouldn't see it." the box was plain, just a brown cardboard container with a regular shipping label.

he nodded and shifted on the couch, adjusting his position to be more comfortable. a movie was playing on the tv, something you two had watched a few weeks ago that you figured he had put on because he missed you.

"lemme get changed and you can open your present, okay?" you set the box down next to him and kissed the top of his head, taking off your bag and placing it on the coffee table. he watched, enthralled, as you kicked your shoes off and peeled off your jacket, eyes following you until you were out of sight as you walked to your shared bedroom.

you came back a few minutes later, now dressed comfortably in one of his shirts. he swore you walked around like this (no pants, just a shirt and your underwear) just to tease him, and he drew in a sharp breath at the sight. he never could get used to how you made him feel; just the sight of you like this was enough to make his stomach do flips.

you plopped down next to him, grabbing the box and using your nails to cut through the tape sealing it closed. once it was open, you handed it to charlie and watched him reach in. he pulled out a smaller box and froze, reading the text on the outside before looking up at you, face burning.

"you got me a fleshlight?" he asked quietly.

you giggled and took the bigger, empty box from him, clearing away the trash. "so you have something while i'm gone," you smiled sweetly. "i know how you get when you have to go too long without me, baby, so i thought maybe this would help." you stroked his cheek softly, doing your best to ignore how hot his face felt.

"i can't... i'm, um," he stuttered.

"yes, you can, charlie, you're gonna have to while i'm not here. i'm giving it to you tonight so we can practice together and you won't feel as shy using it by yourself, but if you don't wanna be good for me..."

that seemed to snap him out of his stupor, and he shook his head vigorously while he spoke. "nonono, i'll be good for you," he promised. "i'll be so good." his voice was whiny and pathetic, just the way you always liked it.

"good," you cooed, ruffling his hair. "now open your toy and take your pants off."

he swallowed hard and obeyed, sliding his shorts off first before fiddling with the box.

"boxers, too, my sweet boy." you put your hand on his thigh and tugged slightly on his underwear. he took a shaky breath and did as you said, hissing softly when you took him in your hand. you pumped him up and down gently as he struggled to open his new toy, pulling away when he finally got it out of the box.

you made eye contact for a moment before leaning over and taking him all the way in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip and coating his whole length in your saliva. when you pulled your mouth off, he whimpered at the pop! sound.

you took the toy from his hand, lining it up on his shaft and turning to watch his face as you slid it onto him. it glided on with ease; he was so lubed up from your spit. he screwed his eyes shut and threw his head back, letting out a long moan at the contact. it wasn't as good as you, sure, he knew it wouldn't be, but it was a lot more pleasurable than he thought it was going to be.

you began dragging it up and down his shaft, working at a good pace. charlie's noises got more and more pitiful, and you shifted so you could kiss up and down his chest, neck, stomach- anywhere you could get your lips on, it was being kissed. you took his hand and guided it to his groin, and he swiftly took over for you, stroking himself rapidly while you tangled your fingers in his hair.

he looked beautiful like that, eyes shut tight, head tilted slightly back, face red from pleasure. you wished you could take a photo of him, you knew he wouldn't mind, but you had left your phone somewhere and hated yourself for not keeping it on you. oh well, the mental image of this would have to do on your trip until you asked him to send you videos.

after minutes of charlie moaning and panting, he started bucking his hips up into the toy, a sign he was getting close. you moved off him and positioned yourself between his legs, tapping his hand to signal him to stop. he peeked open his eyes and pulled the toy off, groaning deeply when you replaced it with your mouth. you worked masterfully on him, drawing unholy sounds from the man as he approached his high.

he grabbed your hair when he was about to cum, babbling your praises as he forced your head down slightly. you moaned when you felt him shoot his seed down your throat, swallowing with him still in your mouth and earning one last moan.

watching you through lidded eyes when you pulled off, charlie panted, trying for minutes to catch his breath. he finally spoke after taking a long drink from the water bottle you handed him.

"do you really have to go?"

you rolled your eyes and smiled, smacking him playfully. "i'll be back before you know it, my love."

[12-seconds-to-live]

Laniel.jpg and Charlotte

Pairing: DR3 x LN4 x F1 female driver

Warnings: none, just my happiness with Daniel and Lando

NICE AIRPORT - TERMINAL 1 @15:20

"You look cute today" I stop looking to my phone to look at Lando. Well, that's new

"You say it like it's weird of me using a dress"

"It is" He smiled

"I'm gonna ignore you from now on"

"It's not common, even when we go to parties you use jeans, so, I have a point"

"The real point here is that we are in the middle of the summer and if I put a raw egg on the floor it will cook"

"But what about the jet? It's going to be cold in there"

"I have my enchanté sweater" Lando made a loud gasp "It has cute peaches and it's purple"

"I sent you a full box of my merch last month, mean"

"Cry about it, Daniel thinks that I have a pretty face so everybody is going to see me in the new enchanté collection"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I asked him months ago, even I helped with the design of one of the pieces"

"Well, congratulations. You should look who's coming" I turn my head and a very smiley Daniel Ricciardo was walking to our direction

"You knew?"

"I invited him to flight with us, I know how important you were for him these moths away from racing so I..." I interrupted him with a hug and a kiss in the cheek

"You're the best, Norris" Lando didn't expect that reaction, now he can feel his cheeks burning

I got up and run to Daniel. After Silverstone, I decided to wait for Danny's test with Pirelli. After he finished a call from Helmut Marko was all we need to know that he got the seat for the rest of the season. Even if I have a good relationship with the australian, I organized a few days off with Lando, Max, Nyck, some frineds and myself to let Nyck know that we're his friends and friends support each other.

"It's been only a week, you know?" He said laughing

"I don't care, I'm happy. These past 7 months had been like going on a rollercoaster over and over again so, you know. Even if it's AlphaTauri, you have your way back home, you never left, you just have to travel the world over in search of what you need and then return to find it"

"I know Char and thank you for everything" His eyes got glossy so I hug him "Do you like my design?" He said ponting to his sweater

"No, it is..." I gasp

"Yes, kiddo. Tommorrow a million boys are going to see you wearing the new collection"

"Ha ha, funny, you know that I have my eyes on someone"

"Someone a bit brainless. Hey Lando, I guess you were waiting for me"

"Yeah, let's go"

Once in the airplane

"I have to say that this is a very important moment and pretty faces like yours should be able to broke the internet" I said taking Lando's camera and pinting to them "New wallpapers for your fans"

They looked at each other and start with their goofiness and well... I guess they really missed each other. Maybe Carlos and I have competition.

"We are pretty good looking guys, you know?" Daniel said with a smile on his face

"Even you could use us as your wallpaper" said Lando

"Good offer but nothing can beat my photo with Tom Holland" I said with a side smile and ready to take a nap before we arrive in Budapest

"When are you gonna tell her how you feel?" asked Daniel looking at Lando

"I don't know what are you talking about" he answer looking at the mirror

"Kids, always scared of love"

DRIVE TO SURVIVE EP.4 S.6 NICE GUYS ALWAYS COME BACK

"Hello Charlotte"

"Hi Netflix, can I have some tea? I been walking around doing interviews and stuff and I couldn't finish my lunch"

"Sure, mint?"

"Yes, please" I smile to the interviewer "We can't start, I'll wait for the tea"

"Ok, what were you doing when the news drop?"

"Oh, ha ha, I was with the main character. I can do anything, even work as emotional supporter, PR, car mechanic, you know" one member of the staff approached me with the cup of tea "Thank you"

"How do you feel about this?"

I made a pause thinking and trying not to burn my lips "I think that this a great moment to tell you what happen after Abu Dabi. Well, I sign my contract with McLaren, I was feeling bad about the decision, just for Danny and I spent the night with him and his girlfriend just talking and at some point we got more serious and I just told him and without knowing about Red Bull: What is a home if not the first place you learn yo run from?"

I smiled to the camera "Then he told me about the third driver offer and I felt different, by the time he leave in 2018 I guess that he felt that he was destroying everything and he just needed to slip quietly to the back door without causing to much noise and then not stop running. And maybe that was he needed more than what he really wanted, let go the feeling of wanted to go back and remember what you once had and what you once where "

"But then I told him that it's funny that the feeling of leave home and being far away make us wander our choices but for Danny is something else. He's back home and ready to no longer remember which tale of his past is true and which is an invention. Outside he's the same on the inside he's the same kid that leave Australia looking for a dream"

"I guess he's your favourite person between the drivers" asked the producer

"No, Daniel is my brother and I know he feels the same about me"

📍Budapest

Liked by charlotterjones, daniel3.jpg and 943.501 others

landonorris We’re photographers. We’re back.

📸: @charlotterjones

user1 ARE YOU KIDDING ME. STOP THIS CUTENESS

f1mia need a landan.jpg account plz

charlotterjones This is a piece of art ❤️

landonorris including the photographer danielricciardo our favourite girl

user2 "dude we’re getting the band back together״

user3 we missed daniel button --->

I got inspired! This little story is linked with my current story called (Un)Lost

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @evans-dejong @omgsuperstarg @bibissparkles @hoely-maria @mochimommy2002 @noope306 @eugene-emt-roe @80sloverry @rens-daylight @summerslike11 @matildrry

[thankskenpenders]

And now for something new

So, here's something I was never planning on doing, but I just couldn't shake the idea... Thanks Ken Penders is gaining a sister blog featuring an entirely different comic franchise!

Introducing... Thanks Steve Ditko, a blog where I read the Earth-616 Spider-Man comics, starting all the way back in the '60s! It's gonna be much more casual and less thorough than how I run things here on TKP, though, which I'll explain in a sec.

If seeing me post weird bits from old Spider-Man comics sounds fun and you need no further info, then just head right on over to Thanks Steve Ditko. But for longtime TKP readers, I know you probably have questions...

Number one: Why?

Spider-Man's always been my favorite superhero, and with the Spider-Verse movies kicking ass and my excitement building for the new Insomniac game, I've been in a Spidey mood. Inevitably, a thought occurred to me: Maybe I should actually read the comics that everything else is built off of and see the wildly varying contributions of all the original creators, rather than filtering them through big budget adaptations. If I can power through One Piece and all these other manga with hundreds of chapters, it can't be that hard... right?

And, well, after a few issues I quickly realized that my options were to either clog up my other accounts with random Spider-Man panels for years, or to just make a side blog. And so the side blog was born.

Two: Will this blog replace Thanks Ken Penders?

NO!!!!!!!!!

Okay but prove it

To allow the two to exist side-by-side, Thanks Steve Ditko will have a different format than what Thanks Ken Penders developed. Rather than an in-depth guided tour that critically analyzes every story beat of every issue, TSD will just be a place for amusing panels and brief thoughts as I casually read the comics at my own pace.

If you've seen me make a few tweets about reading Spider-Man recently, I'm basically just moving that to a dedicated Tumblr. It's a place for me to dump these things so that it doesn't fill up my media tab on Twitter for the next decade. (You know, assuming Twitter is still around in a decade.) There will be many issues where I only post two panels that I thought were funny. There will be issues where I don't have anything to say at all. Maybe I'll reach a run that I just cannot get into, and I start skipping around more. Who knows!

This may sound similar to what I thought this blog would be before it blew up. Aside from the simple fact that there's already mountains of Spider-Man commentary out there and therefore less of a void for me to fill, one of the main steps I'll be taking to avoid repeating the past is not enabling an ask box on TSD. I do not need people to ask me to go into ten times more detail on everything. I do not need to write seven essay-length responses to questions about Spider-Man minutiae every day. I do not need a place for people to chide me for not covering certain scenes, issues, or ancillary series.

It also won't have any kind of update schedule. I'm trying to keep it very casual. I'm reading these comics at my own pace, and if I feel like sharing a moment or commenting on something while doing so? It goes there. That's it.

(On the subject of format changes, I'm also listing the issue, writer, and penciller in the body of every post. This is a thing I wish I'd done on TKP so that people didn't misattribute every weird Archie Sonic panel I post to Penders.)

Three: So when will TKP come back from hiatus? You said it'd come back after you finished SLARPG!

I don't know! Sorry. I have a couple things on the backburner right now for TKP, but I'm not sure when I'll get back to proper updates where I read more comics.

I wanted to bring TKP back this year, and that's still possible. The main hurdle is that I want to reread my own archive (again) as a refresher, which is, uh. A lot of posts. I've developed a high standard for myself on here, and I feel like I wouldn't be doing my job right if I forgot half the ongoing subplots and character arcs and didn't bring them up in my analysis. Especially when I'm discussing the work of an author as obsessed with continuity as Ian Flynn. Unfortunately, the nature of this blog means that every time I go on another long hiatus for Life Reasons I have even more comic continuity to catch up on than last time.

(This is a big part of why I'm making Thanks Steve Ditko an extremely casual blog instead of promising to become a Lore Expert on 60+ years of Marvel.)

Mostly I've just been very burnt out this year after having finally finished a video game that took almost eight years to make. I haven't really had the energy for any creative projects, including TKP. But I feel a little bit of a spark here with Spider-Man, so I'm chasing that feeling to try to get back into the swing of blogging about comics - no pun intended.

So, basically, bear with me on this as I start this low-energy side project. But hopefully folks will enjoy Thanks Steve Ditko as its own thing, too.

Look forward to goofy shit like this

[papergirllife]

Lee Jeno (M) TEASER

fratboy!Jeno x reader

READ NOW

Synopsis:

Jeno has a past that holds him back from what life could potentially offer him, and one of those, he thinks, is you.

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, FEEL FREE TO BLOCK ME IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE

warnings: minor character death (in the past), themes of grief and moving on, tooth-rotting fluff, Jeno being down bad but he was sort of an ass for a bit, crying during sx, sp@nking, mc's a masoch1st (kinda), body worship, unprotected sx, 0verstimulation, oral sx.

The worn out couch sinks as Jeno takes his seat, he watches as Jaemin talks about something animatedly with bombastic gestures and his tone pitched higher, he's going to be the perfect kindergarten teacher after he graduates being an education major and all, then there's Shotaro, watching wide eyed, engrossed in whatever tale Jaemin is telling, he's going to miss this, Jeno notes to himself, sighing at the fact that his sophomore year has begun and in a year's time he's going to say goodbye to all of this.

“Renjun said you'd be studying, didn't expect to see you tonight,” you say as you take the empty spot next to Jeno, Renjun on your side, you've always been his beloved little sister, Renjun is tiny, but for you? He'd pack a punch any time, his last victim was a 6 feet guy who was too handsy for his liking and dude ended up with a broken nose, he broke a finger too, but no one mentions that unless they want to end up in the same fatal tragedy.

“Finished studying, so I thought I'd come down here and join the rest of you,” and maybe because he wanted to see you too, not that he'd ever admit that, to himself or others, he has no right to delve into these emotions, it wouldn't be fair to you or her.

“Wow Jeno, no need to brag about your smarts like that, all of us know you're the top of the department,” you joke with a nudge of your shoulder, and with that slight movement, your thin cardigan slips down your smooth shoulder, revealing the strap of your tank top.

“Says the one that doesn't need to study and still passes,” Jeno retorts as he lets his eyes linger for a bit, before he decides to finally scoop up the collar section of your cardigan, covering your shoulder once again, and from the corner of his eye, he sees Renjun watching him.

“That's because I only aim to pass, unlike mister high achiever here, and I'm not cold, don't worry,” you say, but regardless, your body naturally inches closer to his, his warmth seeping through his bomber jacket has you hooked.

“Enough about me, what about you? What type of content are you shooting next?” Jeno asks, you're an almost full time influencer, the only reason you're still in college is because you want to get the degree as plan b, and Jeno, one of the few with a car, secondhand from his sister, always offers to drive you and sits through shootings with you, whether it be a trip to Olive Young or the newest cafe on the block.

“Probably gonna try doing those ‘a day in my life as a college student’ vlogs cuz some of my followers have been asking, but I'm not sure, it's a lot of work to film, might just end up going through my PR boxes instead or a review of this lip balm I've been looking for an excuse of getting,” you joke, knowing you, Jeno knows you're gonna get it and review it regardless, unless it's sold out, then he'd be one of the firsts to hear about your complaints.

“I could hold the camera if you want to,” Jeno offers, he always does, and you knew he would, it's why you asked in the first place.

“Thank you, my sweet assistant, knew I could always count on you,” you say before booping Jeno’s scrunched up nose, he always does that when you call him that, very textbook Taurus of him.

“Hey Jeno! Wanna play beer pong with us?” a girl comes up to him over the back of the sofa, tapping on his shoulder, probably his coursemate or something.

“Sure, I'll see you around, let me know when you wanna film, I'll see when I'm free,” Jeno says before giving you a little wave, following the girl to the beer pong area, and everyone knows she's going to end up inviting her to his bed, whether you like it or not.

That's all for now, the full story is coming soon!

[siriuslysatorusimping]

*Preview* Bittersweet Memories

Hi there. I said I might post a preview or blurb of this, so I decided to go ahead and do that. IDK if or when I'll finish this. It was more of a spur of the moment thing I started that's spiraled in my drafts. It's heavily inspired by The Vow, except Satoru is the one who loses his memory. I don't have timeline or anything else really mapped out, so this preview is a bit choppy. But essentially, they were married, and there was an accident(haven't determined what) that caused him to forget her and getting married, so they got divorced. Again, all the details haven't been figured out yet, but she's in charge of a Tokyo branch of her mother's bakery now. I haven't decided if it'll be something she always did or if she quit her job to do it after the divorce.

It's pretty damn angsty, tbh. But I'd love to know what you guys think!

Kiko's Masterlist | Buy me a coffee ☕️

*Preview* Bittersweet Memories

The bell above the door jingled, and Rinko called, “Welcome!” over her shoulder, “I’ll be right with you.”

Finishing her task, she turned quickly, her heart immediately thundering in her chest at the sight of Gojo Satoru staring at her in surprise.

Had he remembered? Was he here because he wanted to talk to her?

“Satoru–”

“This place is so cute!” a woman exclaimed, wrapping her arms through his and leaning into him. “Thank you for treating me, Satoru.”

The sharp pain in her chest stole her breath, and she swallowed thickly as she blinked the tears away. His memories hadn’t returned, or maybe they had. It didn’t matter now. What did matter was that he clearly didn’t want her anymore. He’d already moved on.

Smiling as brightly as she could, she forced enough air into her lungs to speak.

“Welcome,” she repeated, avoiding Satoru’s eyes by staring at the wall behind him. She could do this. She could keep going. She needed to keep going and accept that their marriage was over. That he wasn’t hers anymore. “What can I get for you?”

“A dozen of those.” Satoru pointed at the caramel miso butter cookies, his brow furrowed in thought. “And whatever she wants.”

Rinko ignored the ache in her chest, keeping the smile in place as she packaged the cookies.

He remembered that he liked the cookies, but he didn’t remember loving her. She guessed it made sense. He’d always had a sweet tooth.

She had to accept that he wasn’t hers anymore and that he never would be. He didn’t want her. He would never want her again.

“What do you recommend?” the woman asked, staring at Rinko curiously. “Everything looks so delicious. I heard that you’re based out of Kyoto?”

“My mother opened the main location in Kyoto,” Rinko confirmed, swallowing around the giant lump that appeared in her throat. “She decided to expand to Tokyo this year.”

“That’s precious,” the woman gushed. “This must be your dream, then. Following in your mother’s footsteps?”

The only difference was that she didn’t have a child like her mother did. Tears stung her eyes but she blinked to dispel them again.

“Something like that,” she finally replied. “We have some seasonal chestnut filled manju right now. I’d recommend those.”

At the woman’s excited nod, she placed a few inside a box and closed it carefully.

Stacking the containers, she accepted the cash Satoru held out, her skin burning when his fingers brushed against hers. Her chest felt hollow at the blank look he gave her as she handed his change back.

“Have a great rest of your day. I hope you enjoy the sweets!”

According to Shoko, it wasn’t anything serious. He was just dating again. Getting back out there. The knowledge didn’t comfort her. Though she didn’t know why she thought it might.

“Rinko-san,” Megumi called, sticking his head out from the back. “I finished sorting the inventory, so I’m gonna take a break.”

“Thanks, kid,” she replied absently as she rested her chin on her palm. “You can make yourself a drink, if you want.”

“Aunt Yuzu is gonna get onto you if you keep letting me have things for free.”

“Your Aunt Yuzu would be giving you even more things for free, and you know it.”

He grinned, disappearing into the back again and she heard the coffee machine just a moment later.

The bell on the door jingled, and she turned her head to welcome them. Her voice stuck in her throat at the sight of Satoru shifting his weight as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Um, hi,” he greeted awkwardly. “I’m– those cookies were really good, so…”

Of course he was back for the cookies. He’d almost given himself diabetes because of those damn things.

“They used to be your favorite,” she informed him as he trailed off, “so that doesn’t surprise me.”

“About the other day, if I’d known that this was your place, I wouldn’t have come in here.”

The air left her lungs as if he’d punched her, and she struggled to keep the hurt from showing on her face at his words. It stung. He really wanted nothing to do with her now.

Move. Get him his fucking cookies so he doesn’t have to look at you anymore.

Blinking, she felt her body moving, going through the motions of retrieving a box and placing cookies inside it.

“I meant– I meant if I’d known this was your place, I wouldn’t have– I wouldn’t have brought a date in here.”

She nodded mechanically, finishing her task and sliding the container across the counter toward him.

“I don’t see why you– if you want to buy your date dessert, there’s nothing stopping you,” she stated, wondering if that hollow ache she felt at the sight of him would ever fade. “It’s not like we have rules against couples here.”

His hand brushed against hers as he leaned closer across the counter. She tried not to flinch away.

“Listen,” he began, his voice quiet as his cologne filled her nose. The same cologne that still clung to some of her favorite shirts. “I’m sorry that I don’t– I’m sorry I’ve hurt you.”

“I’m sorry I don’t love you,” was what she was sure he stopped himself from saying. “I’m sorry that losing my memory also meant forgetting whatever made you lovable in my eyes.”

She always knew something like this was a possibility. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t remember whatever it was that made him think she was worth marrying when he’d never wanted to get married before. Losing his memory just solidified that whatever loose screw made him think she was the one for him had finally been righted.

Just like she’d always known would happen.

Finally mustering the courage to meet his eyes, she felt her chest split open at the sight of the azure depths staring back devoid of the love she’d grown so used to. She gave him the most genuine smile she could manage.

“I’m just glad you’re well enough to have your sweet tooth,” she replied lightly. “All that matters is that you’re happy.” even if that means you don’t want me anymore. “Have a great rest of your day.”

The door opened before he could grasp the handle, and Satoru’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the woman in front of him as hers widened in clear panic.

Why was she at his parents’ house?

“What are you–?”

“Rinko, you forgot the– Satoru,” His mother came into view behind her. “I didn’t realize you were coming over today.”

“Decided to drop by,” he replied, his eyes still on Rinko’s face. Why was she there? “Didn’t realize you still–”

“She’s my daughter, whether you accept that or not,” his mother stated firmly. “Rinko, dear, you almost forgot your food.”

“Right,” Rinko squeaked, turning briefly to accept the bag full of bento boxes. “Thank you again for lunch. You didn’t have to–”

“We wanted to,” his mother soothed, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Thank you for bringing the cake. Happy birthday, dear. Have a lovely weekend with your mother. Please tell her we said hi.”

“Of course,” Rinko agreed, extracting herself quickly and rushing past him.

“Be safe going home!”

Once she was gone, his mother turned to him, and he rolled his eyes slightly at the look in hers.

“Don’t start,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. He really didn’t want to deal with one of her lectures. “I get it, you’re pissed that you lost the perfect daughter-in-law–”

“I’m not angry with you at all,” she denied, stepping aside so he could enter. “I’m just sad.”

“I know you wanted me to stay married–”

“It had nothing to do with you being married,” she cut him off. “I wanted you to give yourself some time, to give her a chance, before you decided to divorce her just because you didn’t remember her. It’s not your fault that you don’t remember marrying her. But Satoru, you loved her more than anything else in the world. If you gave yourself some time to know her again, I have very little doubt you’d love her just like before.”

“You’re forgetting that I never wanted to get married,” he stated, following her into the kitchen. He spotted part of a strawberry cake sitting on the counter, immediately locating a fork and taking a bite. “Why was she here, anyway?”

“Did you not listen earlier?” His mother sighed, exasperated. “She’s still our daughter, whether you’re married or not. And it was her birthday, Satoru. We invited her over to have lunch for her birthday.”

He swallowed thickly, glancing down at the cake.

“She brought this, then?”

“Yes, she did.” She let out another sigh, quieter this time. “You know, the very first time you introduced Rinko to us, you pulled me aside and said that you were going to marry her if it was the last thing you did. You stood right there with hearts in your eyes and a giant grin on your face as you told me you never wanted to be without her.”

At this point, she should just accept that she was self-destructive. Nothing about what she was doing was healthy. It did absolutely nothing to help her move on with her life. But maybe she didn’t want to move on with her life. Not when her heart still fluttered every time she saw him, even if it left her feeling hollow and empty afterward.

Her heart had certainly already shattered beyond repair by now. So really, what did a bit more damage matter?

The bell above the door jingled with his entry, and she greeted him as she always did, the crack in her chest chipping open a bit further.

“One or two dozen?” she asked, used to the routine by now.

His weekly visits were something to both dread and look forward to. It stung that he still loved the cookies so much but felt nothing for her. But what wasn’t to love about her mother’s cookies?

His gaze still held no sign of warmth or affection for her when he met her eyes, something she’d finally grown used to after his first few visits.

The obvious suspicion when he’d seen her at his parents’ house had shaken her more than she expected. Going there had been a mistake, regardless of whether his mother had invited her. They weren’t married anymore. There was no reason for her to spend time with his parents. She still loved them, and she knew they still loved her, but it didn’t mean she could just cross boundaries he’d clearly set.

She didn’t want to put a strain on their relationship, or be in the way when he found someone else and wanted to introduce them.

After all, he was getting back into the swing of life. Back to work, enjoying it like he always had, hanging out with friends and helping some of his students on the weekends. He would be happier now without her in the way.

“Just one dozen this time,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

Nodding, she grabbed a box.

“Any plans for the weekend?” she asked instinctively.

What was she doing? He didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want anything to do with her beyond getting his cookies.

“I have a date,” he replied absently, his eyes going wide when she froze. “I’m– I mean– no big plans. Just–”

“That’s–” Her throat went dry as she tried to keep her chest from ripping open any further. She couldn’t risk whatever was left of her heart spilling out in front of him. Not when he was moving on. He deserved to move on and be happy without her holding him back. “That’s good– great, I mean. I’m glad you have plans. You– you seem happy. I’m really glad you’re happy.” without me.

She needed to stop talking. Forget being self-destructive, she was probably making him wildly uncomfortable.

Placing the container with his cookies on the counter, she tried to pretend he was just any other customer as she smiled.

“Have a great rest of your day.”

“All that matters is that you’re happy.”

“I’m really glad you’re happy.”

Her words echoed in his head as he approached the bakery, guilt beginning to creep up like it had every time since he’d stupidly blurted out that he had a fucking date when she asked him if he had plans for the weekend.

Fucking idiot. 

He’d replied without even thinking about who he was talking to, but he’d regretted it as soon as he saw the look in her eyes.

He might not have wanted to be married, but he didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to make her suffer.

At least, that’s what he told himself despite the fact that he knew he’d broken her heart and looked the other way when she cried because he didn’t want to believe it was true. He hadn’t wanted to believe he’d completely forgotten years of his life. Years that apparently involved him getting married. The documents and pictures really didn’t lie, though. He knew his family wouldn’t lie about something like that, either.

Everyone said it wasn’t his fault. They said that it wasn’t his fault he didn’t remember her.

What he did remember was the look in her eyes when he’d asked her who she was when he woke up. Asked her why she was in his hospital room and why she was so close to him. The look in her eyes when he’d said he wanted a divorce because he’d never wanted to get married in the first place, and he couldn’t believe that he’d ever changed his mind on that. The sobs she’d tried to conceal as she packed her bags and left without a single protest.

She erased herself from his life so quickly that he’d wondered if she’d always planned on doing so. If she’d been waiting for a way out.

And then she’d appeared again in an instant, standing in front of him in a bakery his date had wanted to try.

Her face had filled with so much hope when she saw him, only to crumple in the next moment when she saw who he was with.

But yet, even after everything he’d done, she still greeted him with a smile and told him she just wanted him to be happy. That she was glad he was happy.

Who wants you to be happy? Who asks if you are okay?

The questions always died in his throat before he could voice them. It felt wrong to ask. Like it was a line he shouldn’t cross because it would be insensitive. Who asked their ex-wife, that they didn’t even remember getting married to, if she was okay after they’d broken her heart without even a second thought?

She clearly wasn’t okay, but she pretended to be. At least, she tried to pretend. But how the hell did he even know that? What part of his psyche just happened to remember what she looked like when she lied?

What he was doing wasn’t just mean. It was cruel.

“Welcome!” she called cheerfully when the bell jingled above his head.

Her voice made his heart speed up, and he blinked at the feeling.

She did have a very pretty voice. He’d noticed the first time he’d heard her speak when he woke up in the hospital. The relief that bled through her words when she saw him open his eyes had confused him at the time. The hurt that colored her tone when he’d asked her to leave still haunted him.

He was suddenly struck by the desire to remember how they’d met. What had he said to her? How had they ended up together in the first place? He’d never really been the relationship type. What had convinced him?

“One or two dozen?” she asked, her question pulling him back to the present. Her smile seemed forced, not reaching her eyes.

How did he know that? Why did he suddenly remember that her real smile made her eyes shine and crinkle at the corners? How was it that he knew her eyes looked like polished jade stone in the moonlight when she was excited?

“Wait,” she said, frowning. “I– sorry, I forgot I don’t even have a full dozen right now. But if you don’t mind waiting just a bit, I can get you a fresh batch?”

Why would she go out of her way to do that?

“Don’t you only have a half-hour till close?” he asked, checking the time. Wouldn’t that waste cookies? “I’ll just take whatever you have left–”

“It’s– I bake them by the dozen anyway, so I’d throw in the couple I have left and call it a day.” She pursed her lips to the side. “But if you don’t want to wait, I understand. Sorry, it was rude of me to ask. I can just–”

“I don’t mind waiting,” he rushed out, taking a seat at one of the small tables. “It’s not a big deal to me.”

She nodded, ducking into the back for a few minutes before reappearing.

“Coffee or tea while you wait? Do you still like–” She cut off, her voice cracking before she cleared her throat. “What would you like to drink?”

“I’m okay,” he stated, that familiar guilt threatening to boil over again.

Should he start a conversation? Or would that give the wrong impression? He didn’t want her to think he was… trying to get too familiar. But he felt bad. He felt like he should say something when she was going out of her way for him. Why did she do that? Why did she seem to care so much about his convenience at the cost of her own?

Before he could say anything, she disappeared into the back, leaving him alone in the small cafe area as the guilt ate away at him.

Was he crazy, or had she lost weight since she’d moved out? Her clothes seemed to fit her differently than they had months ago. Was that why his mother had given her extra leftovers?

Why did the idea of her not eating enough bother him so much?

He jumped when she placed the box on the table in front of him. His chest ached as he watched her step away quickly, retreating back behind the counter before he could even stand. Why did that bother him? Why was he suddenly wondering if she had moved on yet? Why did the idea of seeing her with someone else make him inexplicably angry when he was dating other people?

“On the house,” she informed him, waving him off when he pulled his wallet out anyway. “Since you had to wait.”

He’d barely noticed the time passing because he’d been so stuck in his own head. The warmth that seeped from the box into his hands felt nice. An oddly familiar sense of comfort filled him knowing he’d get to eat fresh cookies even though he couldn’t remember having done so before.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he argued, peeking into the box to see two dozen cookies neatly stacked. “Let me pay–”

“You know, they say time is money,” she joked, her smile faltering when he just frowned. “Really, Sa– Gojo-san, don’t worry. Thank you for being patient.”

The way her voice quivered as she corrected herself made his heart drop to his gut, and he sighed reluctantly.

“Fine,” he conceded. “But I’m paying for them next time.”

He’s happy, and that makes me happy.

She repeated that to herself over and over as she forced herself to take deep breaths.

He’s happy, and that makes me happy.

Because she loved him, she just wanted him to be happy. Even if that meant he didn’t want her anymore. Even if it meant he didn’t love her.

He’s happy, and that makes me happy.

That was all that mattered. His happiness and well-being were the most important.

Life never worked out exactly as planned. So what if her entire future was completely different now? At least she’d gotten a few years to be the happiest she’d ever been.

He’s happy, and that makes me happy.

She would be content knowing he was living his life the way he wanted.

“Just one date with me, Kurisaki-chan,” Satoru implored, leaning towards her as they stood at the bar. “Just one date, and if you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you again.”

Her skeptical look drew a chuckle from him. He liked when she looked at him like that. Something about it made him want to tease her more. He gave her a small pout.

“I’d be so good to you,” he implored, debating getting on his knees and begging. Everything about her made him want to know her more, made him want her to know him more.

“Your history doesn’t say that,” Rinko replied, tilting her head and pursing her lips to the side. He was dying to kiss her. “We both know I’m not your type, Gojo.”

“What’s my type?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “What do you think my type is?”

“One-night stands,” she stated bluntly. “No strings attached, no feelings, no relationships.”

Ouch.

“I have feelings for you,” he informed her, his heart racing when she snorted. “Gimme a chance, Kurisaki-chan. I promise I won’t break your heart. I’ll take such good care of you. You just gotta promise not to break my heart, yeah?”

-

“Promise not to break my heart, yeah?”

The words repeated in his mind over and over and over again as he emptied his stomach into the toilet.

What kind of moron had he been?

Of all the things for him to promise. Of all the promises for him to break.

How could she even stand the sight of him after what he’d done to her?

“I promise I won’t break your heart.”

The look in her eyes when he’d told her he didn’t know why he would get married when he’d never wanted to before flashed through his mind. The hurt she made no effort to hide when he asked her to leave the house they’d apparently shared for years. He hadn’t just broken her heart, he’d shattered it and then walked right over the pieces so he could get cookies.

-

Avoiding her eyes, he shifted his feet uncomfortably while he waited his turn.

“How many today?” she asked lightly, her voice sending a fresh wave of guilt through him. “One or two dozen?”

“Whichever,” he replied, still unable to meet her eyes. How could she talk to him so casually? How could she just pretend he hadn’t hurt her so deeply? “Doesn’t matter.”

Her quick intake of breath had his gaze snapping to her face. The practiced smile paired with the sadness in her eyes made him feel sick again. He might vomit right in the middle of the bakery.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he blurted out, his gut dropping when she jumped. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a shaky laugh.

“For not knowing how many cookies you want?”

“I promised I wouldn’t break your heart,” he croaked, his throat closing as his shame threatened to choke him. “I–”

“It was a silly promise,” she cut him off, her brow furrowing as she pursed her lips to the side. “You couldn’t have possibly known what would happen.”

He’d never fucking deserved her love before and he sure as hell never would now.

“I knew you weren’t being serious when you said that,” she stated, shrugging. “I– I already told you I don’t regret marrying you. I don't regret giving you a chance. I don’t regret loving you, either. I just– I just hope you don’t–”

“I don’t,” he rushed, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I’m– I don’t regret it even though I don’t… remember. But I wish I– I wish I could take back how much I've hurt you.”

AN: I included more in this preview than I originally intended but I got carried away and here we are. What'd you guys think? It's a lil angsty, huh?

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Meeting The Parents (Part 2)

Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Part 1

You stand side by side, watching him carefully. You've known Bucky a long time, you've spent a long time loving him, and yet, you've never seen him like this. Quiet and pensive in a different way than his normal stoicism.

This was the man from the 1940's, the boy from Brooklyn, the son that woke from his time as the Winter Soldier to find his parents and sister buried.

There's been nothing but silence since Bucky first pulled into the cemetery on this warm, sunny day. His jaw is tense, his eyes fixed on the spot where his mother is buried. "Are you alright?"

"I don't come here very often," Bucky speaks softly. He shakes his head with a shaky exhale, "This part doesn't ever get any easier. Knowing my mom is here, my sister, my dad..."

"You don't talk about him much."

"My father..." Bucky sighs. "He was - it was complicated, you know? He was a hard-ass, he had one hell of a temper, but he loved my Ma, he took care of us, and he - he was my dad."

You squeeze his hand, "I understand."

"They would have loved you."

You smile up at him, "Thanks."

"I left the flowers in the car, I'll go grab them," you tell him after a long moment of pensive, thick silence.

Both you and Bucky know it's less about grabbing flowers than it is you giving him a moment alone with his parents. You squeeze his hand one last time before you walk off.

"Hey, Ma." Bucky speaks, but only after he's watched you walk out of earshot. He smiles down at his mother's gravestone. He reaches down into his pocket, pulling out the small ring box to show her. "I, uh, I managed to track down your rings. Sam helped me out. Steve, well, you know Steve. It's been 70 years and he still can't keep a secret. I haven't told him yet, probably won't until after I've popped the question. You'd love her. She's perfect. Let's just hope she says yes."

Only moments later, you return with three bouquets, one for each of headstone. "Thank you for bringing me here, for trusting me with this."

"I think you're one of the only people that I trust with this," he confesses, his voice thick with grief. He wasn't sure that there would ever be a time that he would stop grieving the loss of his family. All he could really do was turn to the family he'd built in this time. "It makes me nervous, you know? With everything, that's - that's why I don't come here very often. I feel terrible, but I know I'd feel worse if people came here, if they-"

He doesn't have to finish his sentence. You know what he means. Bucky Barnes is a man that appreciates his privacy, not by choice, but to protect himself. The public perception of him improved day by day, but you know there's people out there that would come here only to hurt Bucky.

"You've never told me that before."

"Maybe I'm just paranoid."

Though you believed in the good of people, you understood why he didn't. You'd seen firsthand the visceral reactions people had to him. It wasn't fair to him in the slightest.

You squeeze his hand. "I understand. I don't think you're paranoid. You just... want to protect them."

It chokes him up. You're right. He wants to protect them. He wants to protect them the way he couldn't when they were still alive. Though the rational part of him knew it wasn't his fault, he'd always blamed himself for not being there for them.

He clears his throat. "I'm just - I'm gonna go talk to the groundskeeper real quick."

It's his way of telling you that he needs a minute. You nod, giving his hand an extra squeeze before you let go. "Okay."

You watch as he walks away with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Um...Mrs. Barnes?" you hesitantly speak to the headstone. "I know you don't know me, but I sorta feel like I know you. James still talks about you all the time. And I guess, I just - I wanted you to know that your son means the world to me. And I'll spend the rest of my life taking care of him. You raised a good man. You raised my person, and I'll never be able to say thank you enough for that."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series

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