#just spend the rest of my life with her platonically

[tarotfiend]

listen i understand that phan is probably real, but honestly id get it if they were just friends bc that’s exactly how i feel about my best friend

[agentbluefox]

idk what I was/am exactly, but yeah, this. It was a strange realization when everyone around me got to that age and started talking about how much they wanted boyfriends/husbands. And it was that little “oh right. that will take precedence and I’ll be left behind. third wheel again, at best” Everyone around me from the age of fifteen asking when I will get a boyfriend. Why I don’t want one. What’s wrong with me - usually said jokingly but what a stupid thing to say, either way. (interestingly, I never fell into the idea that there Was something wrong with me - at least in this respect. there were more worrying things wrong with me lol). But yeah all this. What do you mean that guy you met a few months ago is more important than our friendship of however many years? what do you mean that’s normal and I’m supposed to not only accept that but be happy for you and want it for myself?

being on the aro spectrum would be a lot easier if being single wasn't made to feel like a literal death sentence

[themindelectricdemo4]

i got a new roommate thre other went aaway..........she is so wonderful & nice to me. her name is very cute too. she is epic hope hses hanving a fangtastic week

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

A Day in Life

Synopsis: A day in the life of Jason Todd. Also, he's a househusband now. Oh, and a little plot twist.

Pairing: Househusband!Jason Todd X Gn!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: Canon level angst for Jason; Some sexual innuendos; Writer apparently doesn't know how to finish a story anymore; This is pretty slice-of-life so maybe boring?; English is not my first language.

Word count: 3,8k

Requested? No.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Wake up, make out, get up. First steps of your everyday routine. Sometimes making out turns into something more, but not today.

From his past life, as Robin, Jason learned a lot about discipline. As much as he tried to forget everything and everyone from his past before you, some habits die hard, although with time, with you and with therapy, he accepted that not all of his experience was bad or should be thrown away just because of one sociopathic clown who hurt him. Yes, Jason died, came back angry and did a lot of shit. But he was still alive and this could be a second chance.

While you, his darling spouse, get ready for work, Jason gets up, puts on his apron, fills the dog bowl for Daphne — your little brown dachshund that you adopted together four months after getting married —, opens the doors to the garden, so the dog can do whatever, and finally starts making breakfast and lunch. Breakfast so you two can eat together and lunch for you to eat at work. Sometimes you both meet up and eat together at your office or a restaurant. Today, that's not the case.

Simple yogurt with fresh fruits and nuts, coupled with a slice of chocolate cake he baked the day prior, eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast. As for your lunch box, a natural sandwich, salad, fruits and juice. He also fills up your two liter water bottle, so you feel pressured have no excuse but to stay hydrated.

Food. Until he was 12 his relationship with food was complicated, to stay the least. At first, his beloved but troubled mom would be in no condition to cook him three or more nice and fulfilling meals a day for a growing boy, he either had to learn and make do with quick instant food, eggs and old bread, or starve, since money was something he only saw when it was being handled to her drug dealer. His father was even worse. Jason loved his mom. Still suffers for her. He hated his father who was the one making her addiction worse. He’s still happy he died.

Living on the streets, food was a dream. A bad dream. It either came from trash or he had to do things that made him feel humiliated and guilty just to get some. And it was gone in a flash, he was so hungry he devoured it all in a second, and then his belly hurt.

Then he came. Jason loved his new father. Loved his new grandfather. Loved their food. So healthy, abundant and full of taste. So fun to prepare. He learned a lot from Alfred because he loved to spend time with him, play with the ingredients and make everyone and himself happy with the results.

But then he had those memories wiped out of his mind, (un)fortunately they came back, but at that time food was in the back of his mind. Sure, he didn't have to worry about starving, crime paid more than enough for that, but he didn't put much thought into any of it.

Now, with you, he's making new memories with food. He cooked and baked a lot with you and for you throughout all your relationship, and you did the same for him. He loves his kitchen, just like the rest of your house. The pantry and fridge are always full thanks to you. You take good care of him. You make his trust in you be worth it. And he reciprocates it. Healthy and nice food that brings comfort and makes you roll your eyes. Especially after he started frequenting cooking classes as a hobby, again, thanks to you.

After you are gone with a full belly and a pet in the ass (just like him, honestly), he continues his routine. He changes clothes and goes to the gym. Jason never stopped exercising, but the lack of all the activity vigilantism entails and with all the treats you two have, he started getting more soft. You loved it, he hated it. — Okay he didn't hate it, he just wasn't the most happy with it. Roy thought it was kinda funny, until Jason pointed out he also got softer after Lian. You honestly couldn't see why all that softness they were talking about was so bad since they were still very muscular and defined, just less dry and more snuggly. You honestly thought your Jaybird could go even further. — So the addiction of yoga to his routine happened.

After that, he goes straight home, eats, showers, takes care of his appearance to keep looking like a proper hubby that you can shove on your bitter frenemies faces, and makes sure to keep the maintenance of the house, so you can come back tired from work and enjoy a perfect house to rest on.

Hygiene. Another things that was complicated with his biological family. His father wouldn't touch a single plate or broom, and would beat and scream at his mom if she didn't put her high (again, because of him) ass up and did the labor. Most often than not, their house was messy, had a bad smell that his little nose was so used to that it's not like he minded, and had insects around. His clothes were dirty hand-me-downs, some fit him, some didn't, a lot of them had holes. His hair tangled and itchy.

When he went to the streets, it just got worse.

Bruce and Alfred fixed that. He finally learned what stink was because he only knew good and neutral scents. His clothes fit him. Everything around him was clean and well-kept. No holes, no stains. Hair always trimmed, soft and clean. Well maintained.

When he came back, cleanliness was basic. Of course he is gonna keep everything around him clean. Habit and common sense, you know? Clothes his size because why the hell would he use hand-me-downs when he can just buy his own? And they had to be the right size for his new 6’2 and almost 200 lbs body. Hair? Whatever. Always washed but as long as it didn't look ridiculous he didn't have time to put much thought on his appearance. He was genuinely surprised you were attracted to him at first sight.

Being with you, he learned to enjoy the little things in life again. Sometimes he finds himself unmoving in front of a random room of the house, or in front of the mirror, trying to grasp if it's all real, If this is really his life, if that's how he looks. His mind flashes memories of his childhood home and his current home. He ignores the memories of the manor not only because of the betrayal he felt for Bruce, but also because the manor was from the Wayne's. He was a Wayne. He is not anymore. This is him. His new house, with you, is what he wished he had growing up. What he always dreamed of. Love. Company. And comfort. He felt all of that while being a Wayne, until he despised the Wayne's. Not the couple that died decades ago or the centuries old descendants. But his father and his siblings.

On days where he doesn't take care of the house, he practices his hobbies. He now has time to do it all, surprising you, his therapist, Roy, and himself, he did cooking, gardening, pottery, crocheting and of course, reading. You paid for all his classes, praised him on his achievements, added his creations to the decor of the house, accompanied him on any event or place related to his interests, gave him his own library in one of the rooms in the house. He even made some friends between middle-aged women and the only other househusband and stay-a-home dad that frequented those places.

It was very funny and cute seeing rough, huge, leather jacket wearing and scarred Jason Todd telling jokes to 50-year-old white moms/grandmas and sometimes even babysitting their kids, pets and plants. You knew he could be a good dad one day if you decided to have kids. He was also more than happy to have just you, Daphne and good friends. And plants.

Warmth. When he was a kid his parents broke the heater during a fight, he wondered if they didn't have money to fix it, even with his father's activities, or if his father just refused to fix it. Anyhow, it was always cold in Gotham, freezing on winter, his dirty clothes with holes didn't help much. The streets didn't seem much different in that aspect. The manor kept him warm when he wasn't seven feet under the dirt, in a casket. When he came back, Jason always wore the warmest of clothes, even while sweating, he didn't know why. Now he did. Your house is always warm. Your body is always warm. Comfort. Your love gave him comfort. Warmth. A reason to live.

Love. His mom. Bruce and Alfred. You.

After he was done and rested for a little, Jason took Daphne for a walk in the way to the grocery shop. He wanted to try a new receipt you saw on tiktok today for dinner and had to get more flour and something for the filling.

After a few minutes of walking on his perfectly nice looking and safe neighborhood — nothing like crime alley. The type of neighborhood he saw on the television and imagined those other happy kids his age living and envied them. Dreamed of being adopted into one of their families while jumping from orphanage to orphanage. It never happened. He just got more abused. And then the manor was so isolated that you could only see mansions and plants all around. So big and far away that they looked empty of life. — he got there and strapped the dog to a post, next to a smiley golden retriever.

He got in and- fuck it, I'm going home. The empanadas can wait another day.

— Jason? Oh my god. Jason! Is that you?! — The infuriatingly familiar loud voice calls out from the middle of the shop and all heads turn to look. Shit, he can't go now without embarrassing himself in front of the cashier of his favorite and most visited shop. So he just nods, takes a basket and walks as if there was nothing interesting happening. It worked with the others costumers, unfortunately, Dick thought it was way too interesting and forgot his own basket that only contained eggs and cereal, and started following him around, this time, with a less surprised tone.

— Hey, Dick. — Jason idly muttered, that just made his coff coff brother indignant.

— Hey, Dick?! What the hell? Where were you? It's been three years! We thought you were dead! Or kidnapped! We never stopped looking for you! We were worried! We mourned! What happened? — Was it bad that Jason didn't want to give him a real answer? Probably. Especially with how much his therapist, who he saw on the days he didn't go to the gym, told him he should try to mend things with his family. So much so that he started actually contemplating it recently. But if he did it, it was going to be on his own time. Not by bumping into them in the grocery store. Oh, well. Jason was always good at adapting. The best.

And wow, three years had passed? Makes sense. Recovery does take time and he's been really happy for a while. Jason still remembers the day he decided to quit everything. It was the same day he decided you were the one, truthfully he always knew you were marriage material, the perfect one for him, out of his league, straight out of his most amazing dreams, peak goal for him, but he wasn't sure if he deserved to be the one you should be stuck with forever. He desperately wanted to, but he had to commit. Ride or die. He loved you, now more than ever, and didn't want to waste your time. He was still a bit messy at the time, but you made it all better, he was a lot better than he was before you came into the picture. You were the right choice. Jason always took you seriously, he was just insecure. So, while still in around eight months of relationship, he quit everything.

He quit his family. He quit vigilantism. He searched for recovery. And a year and a half later, with a little more than two years of dating, he made the big proposal. You married on your three-year anniversary. Got Daphne four months later. It's been around three or four months ever since.

While Dick’s math might not be exact, it is not necessary in this context, the point came across just fine.

He also knew that the fact that you both decided to not leave Gotham was going to bite him in the ass one day. One way or another.

— What happened? Oh, well. I retired. Got married. And now I'm a dad. — Daphne was like a daughter to him, so it was the same, right?

His nonchalant reply didn't seem to satisfy the other, though. Todd could see it, the urge to strangle him in his eyes. Dick wouldn't strangle his dead missing little brother, would he?

— You… You what? — Dick was in disbelief.

— You guys searched for me? Thanks, I guess? It means a lot. — Jason just sniffed and went on his way, leaving Grayson behind, paralyzed.

Maybe he could be fast enough and get out of there before the older one got a grasp of his senses back and followed him out. Part of him felt hope, the other heard yours and his therapist voices in his head, and the nagging was annoying. Maybe he never stopped being a “grump”, like you always amusedly said.

Oh, no. Here he comes again. Jason suppresses an eye-roll.

— Stop. Can you really explain? — The mix of emotions was almost overwhelming, an urge to cry, punch a wall, punch Jason's face, scream and who knows what more was running through Dick's body.

Jason sighed and finally addressed him completely. Tone lower so no one could hear.

— Okay. I met someone… Someone good. Someone special. A civilian. I was tired of everything. So I decided to retire and made sure none of you could find me. I'm surprised Roy and Lian kept the secret from you, though. Anyway. Now I'm a stay-at-home hubby, have a dog and go to therapy. You happy? — A beat of silence. — Hey, don't make that face… I was going to tell you guys eventually… When I felt like it… It's not like you guys saw me a lot. How much time did it take for you all to miss me? I made an appearance once in a while when someone asked for help and that's it. Alfred knew everything so if you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be at him too, not just me… And Roy. Don't forget Roy.

— A-Are you kidding me? Oh, yes, blame the butler! You couldn't even tell us? Like “hey guys, I'm gonna retire and take some time for myself for a while. Also, come to my wedding!” I wanted to be invited, you know?! Why didn't you invite me? Did you at least invite Alfred? Did- — Jason rolled his eyes and cut his rant.

— Yes, Alfred was there. Front row and everything. — Dick shrieked.

— T-That’s not the point! — His voice raised slightly from exasperation and both of them checked around for anyone's attention, then came back to the conversation.

Jason raised a hand to interrupt him and took a deep breath.

— Look. I wasn't in a nice place at the time, okay? I'm better now… And I was going to talk to you guys sooner rather than later… — Jason let a moment of vulnerability shine, hoping that would melt his brother's heart and fix things. It did. — We will have a second wedding when we renovate our vows in our 5th anniversary. You can be there… Everyone can be there. — Jason cleared his throat to interrupt the other again. — But now I have to get home in time to make dinner for my honeyboo, so why don't we… Stay in contact and… One of those days everyone can have dinner together and catch up, huh?

Dick took one of the deepest breaths of his whole life. Jason pursed his lips.

— Okay… — He stuck a finger in his face roughly. — But don't disappear again. Or else I promise I’m gonna personally make everyone track you down, understood? — Jason snorted. As if Tim and Bruce wouldn't do it already once they knew everything. As if Bruce didn't secretly keep track of him this whole time. Unless… Unless everyone changed and he didn't know his… His family anymore.

Why did it make him feel weird?

— Yes, boss. — Jason saluted him and left.

— Relax… — You elongated the word. — Nothing bad it's gonna happen… — You went behind Jason and tried rubbing his broad shoulders to chase the tenseness away. The sight and feel of his muscles almost made you drool, and you blinked to focus again.

— How do you know? — You pursed your lips and went to his side to try to make him take his eyes off of cleaning the countertop for the 4th time due to anxiety.

— Because they love you. And they care about you. And they miss you. — Jason deadpanned you. — Just give it a chance. If anything goes wrong, we will just kick them out and you never have to talk to them, ever again. We can even move if you want. Or go on a vacation to the same place we had our honeymoon, I can wear that skimpy piece you like… Spoil you rotten… — Your voice lowered seductively and you pressed your body to his side, running your hand up and down his arms with some pressure.

Jason’s mind went blank and he was speechless for a few seconds. Your eyebrows raised with a small, convincing smile that made all his worries go away. He sighed.

— Okay… Okay, you’re right… — He leaned down and sneaked an arm around your waist. You both shared a slow and wet kiss, bordering between sensual and calming. Unfortunately, he had to wait a few hours before having some action. He pulled his face away a few centimeters, looking you in the eyes. — I thought I had ripped that thing. — You blinked.

— You just might have. But I bought another one because I looked too good on it not to wear it again. — You shared a chuckle when the doorbell rang. You both looked at the door, then at each other. — Want me to get it? — You ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the last of his nerves. Jason swallowed.

— No. Have to get it over with. — He took a deep breath and then let out. Pulling away from your embrace. — Put the juice on the table for me, please? — You hummed and nodded.

Without giving a second thought, he walked in long strides and abruptly opened the door.

It was like that scene in Avengers: End Game when on one side there was just Captain America against the whole Thanos's army, just staring at each other.

— Are you wearing an apron? — Damian snarked with an eyebrow raised. Jason looked down. Yes, he was. Good start.

— Take your shoes off, there’s other shoes for you all there. And here I was having hope that at fifteen you wouldn't be a demon anymore. — Jason said sarcastically and gave them space to enter.

As soon as they got in the neighborhood they were all already skeptical. If you were the only one working, how much do you earn to live in such a nice area and with this nice house? They could even see a pool in the backyard and there were TWO expensive cars in the driveway. Jason said he quit all of the crime lord thing, did he keep the savings? Did he invest?

The little dog came running and barking, taking their attention away from the house and their shoes, Damian immediately crouched to pet her. Jason let a side of his lips go up. At least that hasn't changed.

— Her name is Daphne. — Jason spoke over the cooing of Duke and Cass at the dog. He locked eyes with Bruce who had an unreadable expression on his face. He looked older, Jason didn't know how to feel about that. Then gazed at Dick, who had a shit eating grin, Alfred, whose satisfied smile warmed his heart, and Tim, who was analyzing the space while changing shoes.

— Nice place. So, what does your partner do? — Are they committing fraud? — You appeared from the corner and replied for him.

— I direct the Queen Industries’s Gotham’s office. — You answered softly with a polite smile, stopping besides Jason, who wrapped an arm around you. Everyone's gaze turning on you made you feel shy, but you held on with confidence.

— Oh, wow, so Jason really is a malewife. — Your eyes widened in surprised and you couldn't hold back a laugh. Jason let a small smile graze his lips, coaxing the easiness out of him.

— I offered to pay cleaning and cooking service, but he wanted to do things himself. — You say, a little afraid they would get angry at you for “slavering” their Jason.

— Did you buy those cars outside? — Wow, Tim really was as skeptical as Jason had said.

— Hmhmm. — You nodded simply, as if it was nothing.

Jason's siblings raised their eyebrows and Bruce cleared his throat, and took a step forward, feet clad in fluffy slippers. He offered a hand and presented himself politely to you. You wondered how much of that was his persona and how much was just a father meeting his son's partner.

While giving them a tour of the house, the family — aside from Alfred who already knew it all — observed the details, happy memories in the form of pictures of trips, your marriage, birthdays, anniversaries, Daphne's growing stages, spontaneous moments that just deserved to be eternalized, trinkets, handmade pots, plants, Daphne’s toys, and the decor that was just a mix of you both. No guns in the walls, no corpses buried in the backyard, no blood stains. The only signals that it was their Jason living here and not a clone were the books, pictures and hidden security measures. 

It was… Good. Peaceful. Clearly the change in scenario helped him. It hurt them a little, some more than others, that it took him cutting them off for him to start healing, although, maybe opening up this new side of him for them meant that it wasn't just that. And it wasn't. The fault didn't fall completely on them. Nor on Jason. And one person, you, can't be the solution for all global crisis. Mental health is complex. Trauma is complicated. Past can't be changed, but the future can. 

That night, everyone enjoyed Jason's cooking, Daphne and the new future.

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@wandalfnation

[alicentofhightower]

being the targtower’s youngest sister would include…

pairings: platonic!alicent hightower x daughter!reader, platonic!aegon targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!helaena targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!aemond targaryen x sister!reader

synopsis: what it’s like to be the youngest daughter of the green queen.

includes: reader being the only somewhat normal targtower, i went overboard on aegon’s are we surprised, might be ooc, sorry for how short alicent’s is i wasn’t feeling much inspo for her

a/n: one of my favorite things about alicent’s dynamic with her children is that they all represent a part of her: aegon, being used for politics, helaena, her innocence that she used to have, and aemond, her rage and thirst for power. so i decided to have reader represent alicent’s devotion to her family and her “duty”. hotd is so weird abt character ages so for my sanity aegon is 20, helaena is 18, aemond is 17, and reader is 16 in this. forget daeron pls

Alicent

Alicent has incredibly complicated relationships with her children. They are mirrors of her anguish, but her blood nonetheless. She will protect you and your siblings with her life, if necessary, but she also cannot look you in the eye without a pit of guilt settling in her stomach.

She feels nauseous when Viserys has you betrothed to a Lord from the Crownlands, but apart of her is satisfied with the match, though only because it means you will be allowed to stay in the Red Keep instead of leaving her.

She is just as gentle as she is with Helaena as she is with you. You are one of the only good things that have come from her. She cherishes you. When word of your pregnancy spreads through the Keep, Alicent orders an abundance of maternity gowns for you from Myr. She will always, without fail, offer you a guiding hand when going up large sets of stairs.

By all means, she is not a perfect mother, but she does what she can. She gifts you lots of her own accessories, like the hairnet she wore during Aegon’s second nameday celebration. Helaena is her “dearest love”, and you are her “sweetness.”

Trying to include you in her own private matters is one of the only ways she can spend time with you. She takes you to the Sept with her when she can, though her eyes are always averted from you.

That is one of the other strange things you’ve noticed about your mother; she can never make eye contact with you. Perhaps it is because you are with child just as she was at your age.

When the time comes, she cannot be by your side to hold your hand while you give birth. It’s improper. But she is overjoyed that both you and your son are healthy.

— “You have done well, my sweetness,” Your mother whispers, voice soft and melancholic and warm. Grand Maester Orwyle, bless him, had propped you up on great plush pillows after you’d finished your labors. He’d quietly congratulated you and helped you get comfortable in your bed, then had left you to rest.

She sits on the edge of your mattress, right by your side, thumb gingerly tracing your cheek. The forest green she’s clad in brings out the auburn of her hair. “The babe is a beautiful one. A handsome son for the realm. I am… proud of you.”

Articulating her thoughts has never been her strong point. It is the hour of the owl now. The only sounds you can hear are the padding of raindrops against the tall windows in your chambers and the crackling of the hearth.

“Aegon’s birth came quick for me as well,” She mutters, almost to herself. Peculiarly, she clings to the little ways you are alike to one another; they are fading as the days pass by. Her brows furrow as her mind begins to race.

Your firstborn sons’ births had come with ease. You were both married off far too early in your lives. In girlhood, you had both favored naive stories of brave knights and pretty ladies and romance. You both committed yourself to duty to further the family—

She stops the list she’s making in her head there. Far more resolutely than before, as if putting a wall around herself again, she kisses your forehead and retracts into herself.

“I shall leave you be. Good night.”

Aegon

For Aegon, news of a new sibling is unsurprising. It’s the same old thing to see his mother waddling around the castle, belly swollen. He’s a little indifferent when you’re born.

As a teen, though, Aegon is certainly the type to smack you a bit too hard in the training yard and then shush you, begging for you to hit him just as hard before you wail too loud and one of your mother’s handmaidens hear and alert her of it.

It makes him feel shameful, the first time you see him drunk, stinking of the whores of Flea Bottom and sweat. You promise to not tell anyone of it, if he, in exchange, does not do it again. He still does. You still do not tell.

After the events of Driftmark, you are the one to cut his hair short. Seeing Aemond bloody and bruised had frightened you, caused you to weep in front of the crowd in the great hall, and you’d tearfully asked Aegon if you could sleep in his bed together that night. He forces you to help him trim his waves the next morning as “repayment”, though he did not actually mind it.

You grow closer as you become older. To Aegon, you are the only one who has a semblance of faith in him; your mother was constantly repulsed by him, as was your grandsire and own father. Aemond had given up on him a long, long time ago, and Helaena focused on the children far more.

On his better days, Aegon likes to fly on your dragons together. Seeing you windswept and almost free is strangely satisfying for him; he misses when you both hadn’t been burdened by what your parents had put on you. In the dead of night, he likes to imagine what life would have been like if he hadn’t been forced to marry Helaena, and you your “fat, old husband”, as he put it.

Speaking of, he’d made a great fuss at your wedding. That was the angriest he’d ever saw you; he’d drunk himself half to death at the celebration afterward, made a fool of himself when he got into a fist fight with one of your husband’s brothers. Even the bards had stopped singing to stare at the spectacle. You’d almost lost your voice that night from how loud you’d yelled at him, asking when he’d ever think of anyone but himself, cheeks flushed from deep embarrassment.

“You know of my apprehension when it comes to large events such as these, and yet you cannot steel yourself for one night for my sake? What will you do when Jaehaera is married? Light the castle aflame?”

(You do not know the reason he’d done such a thing was to make such a big scene your consummation ceremony would be an afterthought. That, and the fact he was drunk and angry.)

Some part of him feels guilty when you get pregnant. He knows, deep down, that he had no part in it, and he could not control your fate, no matter if his efforts were weak or strong. But he was still your elder brother, was he not?

One day, while you sit in a rocking chair and he plays with the twins in their nursery, you tell him, “I should like for my son to be like you.” Aegon says, quietly, that yours will be better than he ever was, with you as his mother. He vanishes back into the Street of Silk soon after that.

One of his best qualities is being able to make light of anything, and he does just that after your labors, laughing at how disheveled you are and kissing your forehead. It’s hard not to laugh with him.

Days later, at his coronation, you are the first he looks to for approval, after your mother. The subtle nod you give him makes him wonder how you would’ve reacted if he had been successful in running to Essos. He hopes neither Aemond or Cole told you of what he’d said.

After becoming king, Aegon grows to value your input more and more. On his council, he feels you are the only one to genuinely listen to his concerns and thoughts when it comes to winning the war, and so he ignores the disapproving looks the men around him give him when you come to the meetings.

He does not mention your dragon when discussing battle plans, almost seems to ignore it when Lord Jasper brings you up; your dragon is great and strong, and he knows he will have to utilize you one day, but he refuses to think of it until it’s absolutely necessary. His mind has already been spoiled by what he has seen in brothels and taverns, and he imagines it will only further be by the sights of war. Aegon will do everything he can to avoid what happened to him happening to you.

The assassins Daemon hired infiltrate the Red Keep. They kill his son, leave with his head in a sack. Aegon rages and drinks and rages. He will not allow even you to see his tears, but he cannot stop them from soaking the cloth of your dress when you hug him tenderly, as if afraid he’ll slip through your hands like sand.

Bile floods into his mouth when Otto suggests wheeling his son’s body through the city to secure the approval of the smallfolk. The image of you insisting on going instead of his mother is burned into his brain. “If you will force Helaena, then at least spare Mother and allow me to go,” You’d begged. It does nothing.

As foolish as he can be, Aegon is also not one to forget what others have done for him. You were the only one who’d taken his side against your grandfather. He is glad he was not forced to marry you, glad that he did not force you to a brothel as he did Aemond; he is glad that he has not ruined you.

Aegon’s visits to your child become less and less frequent. He loves the boy dearly, like he’s his own, but he cannot stand to look at him. It’s only a reminder of what happened to his little Jaehaerys.

Rook’s Rest destroys him. He does not even need to tell you that it was Aemond who did it, you just seem to know. There is no way for him to verbalize that he is listening to you while he is in his milk-of-the-poppy induced coma, but he does appreciate the stories you tell him while sitting at his bedside.

He specifically forbids you from looking at him while the Maesters change out his bandages, but he’ll allow you to sit on the other end of his bed with your back to him and hold his unburnt hand while they do so.

— “I feel a monster,” He admits to you one night while you light a candle on the stand next to his bed. You’re clad in a warm nightgown; many whisper that winter is coming, and it’s hard not to notice with how cold the breezes have been lately.

“Why is that?”

“You know why.”

You can’t even fight the scoff that comes from you, and you turn back to him with a frown etched deeply into your face. “You should not. You are king.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “That did not stop our cunt of a brother from burning me like the Conqueror did Harrenhal.”

Huffing, you smooth out your dress, then walk to the other side of the bed and slowly crawl on. You’re careful not to move around too much, so as to not cause him any more injury, and sit next to him, back against the headboard. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs. His eyes are slightly glossy when they meet yours.

He takes a sharp breath. “…If it had been my decision, I would have named you regent.”

You laugh incredulously at that, shaking your head. “They set aside Mother for Aemond. They would have forced you to do the same.”

Aegon raises his remaining silver brow. “I am not as feeble and weak-minded as Father. I speak truly. It is you I trust the most.”

Helaena

Helaena is perhaps the least expressive out of all of your siblings, but even she felt happy when Mother’s babe had come a girl.

She does genuinely appreciate that you do not judge her and make fun of her behind her back; she has never felt like she has been able to fit in with her ladies-in-waiting.

As mature as she is, Helaena does like to indulge girlishly sometimes; she enjoys matching her gowns with you, as well as hairstyles and (light, so as to not overstimulate her) jewelry.

Observant and introspective, Helaena also has a great memory. If you tell her you’ve had a fascination with direwolves as of late, or have particularly enjoyed reading about Valyrian history, suddenly the dresses she gifts you will subtly be embroidered with subtle little wolf icons or ancient Valyrian imagery. She is very thoughtful.

Unbeknownst to most, she also gives very good advice. There have only been a handful of times her council has not helped you. Wise and empathetic, she is, and she is always willing to listen to you explain your troubles while she plays with one of her bugs.

It pains her to see you inflicted with the same fate as she was; married off to a man you had no love for, forced to be his incubator. Just as it was during Aegon’s coronation, her head is bowed at your wedding. She does not want to look at your doom.

Despite this, she is perhaps the most supportive of you during your pregnancy; she likes suggesting names for the babe as well as crafting him little clothes for him to wear when he is born.

Although you do not understand her prophecies, it does quell her anxieties a bit that you at least listen to them instead of dismissing them like all else do.

When noise gets to be too much for her, you are the first to cover her ears with your hands, guiding her to the lush gardens of the Keep to breathe. You are the only person she has a likeness of boundaries with; when she does not want to be touched, you leave her be. It’s why you are the sibling she is fondest of.

Her hand immediately flies to grasp yours when Meleys erupts from the boards at Aegon’s coronation. The look on her face had confused you. She’d appeared fearful, but simultaneously also put at ease, as if she’d known that this was going to happen.

After Blood and Cheese, she cannot find rest at night. She takes to pacing about the Red Keep, almost looking like a ghost; pale and silver and paranoid. Despite the fact that it distracts you from your own slumber, you insist on her staying in your chambers with you. She still paces, never sleeps. Some nights you even walk with her around the castle.

— “This one will not live,” She blurts out randomly, interrupting you from one of your tangents, confusing you. She never interrupts you, always listens to whatever your qualms are for the day without complaint.

“What?”

You feel like you’re about to burst; partly from the grand lamb you had for your midday meal and from how heavy the babe in your belly feels. She seems surprised that the words had actually come out of her mouth.

She pushes her face closer to the fly she has somehow managed to capture in her palm, a perturbed glint in her eye. “I do not think this one will survive.”

You decide to indulge her, tilting your head to the side from where you sit across from her, lounging on a velvet sofa. “Why is that?”

“The art of the spider is subtle. It shall trap another in its web.”

(Later that day, you can only wonder if she was speaking of Lord Vaemond after he’d been beheaded by Prince Daemon from behind.)

Aemond

Aemond can barely remember the day you were born, much less the day a celebration had been held for Mother’s pregnancy.

Alike to his siblings, Aemond is not one to forget what you did for him when you were children; how you always offered to take him on rides on your dragon before he’d claimed Vhagar, how you were the only one uninvolved in the “pink dread” incident, how you cried for him after he lost his eye.

After the loss of his eye, Aemond begins to put a wall around himself. Unfortunately, that does include you. Before Driftmark, you were closest with him, but afterward, you had slowly drifted toward Aegon; nevertheless, he shows his affection for you in his own way.

However, he does keep the little gifts you’ve given him over the years safely hidden in his chambers, away from the eyes of curious maids and servants, like the eyepatch you’d embroidered a little Vhagar in in the weeks after his eye was cut out.

When Vaemond’s head is cut off, Aemond immediately places a hand on the pommel of his sword, lest Daemon himself attack you next. When he becomes regent, he is the one who orders you to be given a sworn protector. He is the one who’d help you learn Valyrian when you struggled, even after all your lessons.

Aemond never, never shows much affection to anyone in the family publicly, but he doesn’t mind it if you place a hand on his forearm or his own hand. He prefers it if you keep things like cheek or forehead kisses private in the sanctity of your or his own room.

In his immediate family, you are perhaps the most normal of all, which does make him seek out your company the most. The mornings after he seeks out Madame Sylvi’s assistance are the mornings he spends the most time with you. The shame of it all almost eats him alive, and you are a welcome distraction.

Additionally, the one-eyed prince does genuinely appreciate how you show your devotion to the family, though of course he’d never verbalize it. Almost every training yard session he has, you sit on the balcony, embroidering a dress or two while he swings his sword at Criston’s morningstar.

Your wedding to some old Crownlands lord was a memorable one, mostly because of when Aegon had pinned your new brother-by-law to a table and began beating him senselessly. Aemond was the one who had pried him off, mercilessly tugging him by the collar of his doublet away from the man.

You become pregnant quick. Aemond says that when your son is born, he will bring him to meet Vhagar himself, stating that a “new Targaryen babe should learn the ways of his predecessors”.

As the moons pass by, the Maesters order you to bedrest. Your elder brother likes to visit during his free time, sometimes bringing a book with him to read or nothing, just to converse with you quietly. You are the only “quiet” Aemond has ever known.

When Rhaenys bursts through the boards at Aegon’s coronation, Aemond’s palm finds your wrist, gently grasping it with his long fingers.

Just as your mother does, you begin to shun Aemond after Luke’s murder. It does not make him resent you as much as it does Alicent, but it does make him spiral a bit quicker.

Many a time have you slept in Aemond or Aegon’s bed because of nightmares. The only time he’s ever slept in yours was the night Aegon had found him in the brothel with Sylvi. You had not been awake when he’d crawled into bed with you, just laying beside you and shutting his eye. He makes sure to leave before you wake. Aemond does not know that you were quite aware of his presence, but had chosen not to say anything. If Aemond of all people had decided to find sleep in your bed, something awful must’ve happened. Why take that moment of respite from him?

He knows that you know he burned Aegon, but he does not ever bring it up in a conversation with you, much less acknowledge it. However, Aemond is observant. He notices the fearful glint in your eye when he is around you, now, but this is what he has always wanted, has he not? To rule?

— Aemond is with you the morn after Blood and Cheese, standing in one of the Red Keep’s balconies as you watch the wagon carrying your mother and Helaena depart. Your eyes are sunken in from crying, cheeks swollen; you wear a veil of mourning yourself, though there is no crown settled on your head. The way you lean over the railing to peer at the ground, the way your back is hunched, the way you grieve so openly.. it does not befit a princess. It does not befit someone from the Targaryen family, someone who is supposed to use honeyed words and cunning tricks to protect themself from the environment of King’s Landing.

You sniffle. “Where were you?”

Aemond’s eye goes wide. A deep pit was already settled in his stomach, but it only seems to get worse at your questioning. Even his throat seems to tighten up, make it impossible for him to even choke out an answer.

“When news of… the boy spread,” You begin, “I went to find you myself. But you were not in your chambers, nor in the library. Where were you?”

“Patrolling.” It’s an obvious lie. He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth, jaw clenching immediately. There was no use in patrolling at night, when he could barely see anything. His hand unconsciously squeezes the stone railing.

He’s ready to leave with haste when you nod to yourself, face blank and detached from reality. “…I won’t tell anyone,” You mutter, just loud enough for him to hear. “Wherever you were.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

hii i just read your kissing the batboys out of the blue and i loved it!! i was thinking that maybe you could one of how they react when they realize they’re in love with the reader? tysm!!

Jason had a feeling that he knew he was in love with you, he had read enough romantic novels to know that what he was feeling was romantic.

He thought of you day and night.

Everything reminded him of you.

He couldn’t wait to be near you, craves it even as his mind raced with all the things that you could do together in his apartment as though you were an already pre-established couple.

He practically ticked off every box imaginable and he knew it but he wasn’t quite sold on this alone until he woke up to you cuddled up into his side, looking as though you belonged there, even tightening your grip on his shirt when he dared to move even in the slightest.

‘Five more minutes.’ You muttered into his neck, causing him to freeze but he was quick to relax and throw his arms over your waist to keep you close.

It was the domesticity of the moment that made Jason realise that he was in love with you, deep unadulterated love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life waking up to you and falling asleep with you in his arms because you fitted together like two missing pieces.

You were what he was missing and he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon, not when he was brought to realises that he couldn’t live without you, not anymore. Jason swore to himself that he’d protect you no matter what while he finds a way to tell you of his feelings, but until then Jason was more then willing to keep it to himself as to remind himself that he now had someone to fight for.

Dick didn’t know he was in love with you until someone brought it up to him about how often he seemed to bring you up in conversation regardless of its relevancy.

You’ve had a flirty relationship with one another that Dick had lead himself to believe was strictly platonic all the while wanting more at the same time. He wasn’t fond of commitment, it was an issue of his but you made it all the more worth it if it meant he could get the chance to call you his.

‘You sure do talk about them a lot.’ Garth said.

‘Who?’ Dick asked, confused.

‘Them.’ Raven gestures towards you and immeditly sees the way Dick’s eyes practically glowed when they looked at you, she looked over at Gar who saw the exact same thing as she did and was looking at her for confirmation that he wasn’t seeing things. Their wild theory has been proven to not be so wild after all.

‘It’s not my fault they’re an awesome teammate.’ Dick replied as he looked back at Raven and Garth as they looked back at him knowingly.

‘You often talk about them as though you’re in love with them.’ Raven countered.

‘I don’t talk about them like I’m in love,’ Dick laughed before looking over at Garth, ‘do I?’ He asks and Garth hummed. ‘You do. If you like them so much why don’t you ask them out on a date or something?’

Garth’s question stayed with Dick for the rest of the day as he recalled the times where he talked about you nonstop and wanted to smack himself for not seeing it before, he was so hellbent on never committing to something that he didn’t see that he was practically confessing his feelings for you in other ways.

Dick was scared, genuinely scared. So he decided to keep this revelation to himself and hope that one day it would fade away but he knew all too well that he was in too deep for that to be the case. Now he just keeps a tight lip on what he says to certain people in hopes that they don’t go back to you and spill everything.

Dick wanted to tell you himself but he fears that he might bring himself to do it in time.

Tim would be spending time with you when he realised he loved you.

Being with you just felt natural for him as he let you press up against his side as you did your own thing and he did his own on his laptop.

You could both exist in peaceful silence together without it getting awkward and that’s what Tim liked the most about you, he didn’t have to force anything to keep you engaged in anything he liked.

He even liked how you could match his sarcasm at times while also being caring about his well-being and mental health.

‘When was the last time you actually had decent sleep?’ You asked.

‘When did this become an interrogation, and a lacklustre one at that.’ He replied as you raised your brows to look at him. ‘Since you keep thinking it’s fine to neglect your basic human needs, wise ass.’ You told him. ‘keep this up and I’m wouldn’t be surprised to find you passed out on the floor somewhere.’ You add before putting down a glass of water and a plate full of food before leaving the room.

Tim glances over at the water and food and feels a warmth spread throughout him when he saw that you remembered his favourite meal.

Tim could show you anything technical and while you may not understand everything that was being said, it was the fact that you even bothered to continue to listen to him that made him realises that he might be in love with you. Your eyes held intrigue as he went over how his weapons worked, even giving you live demonstrations, but he couldn’t help but feel a little exposed under your gaze, you looked at him as though he was the most interesting person alive and he could feel his cheeks burn.

Tim knew he was in love with you for a long while but it just took that one moment for it to click within him.

[hochsleep]

Relationship with Daryl Dixon (headcanons)

This is my first experience writing headcanons, but I have a lot to say! And yes, I used a gif from Beth, but we don't support that pairing here, guys.....

Also, thanks to the author of the gif!

Pronouns: she/her (fem!reader) / (I'll do headcanons for Daryl's relationship for gender-neutral readers later on)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon/fem!reader (Y/N)

Warnings: no, not this time. Everything is decent (underage readers can read)

• Daryl Dixon is far from stupid. I mean, he can certainly tell the difference between romantic interest and friendly sympathy. He has Carol, his best friend, and he knows that he feels for her the kind of platonic friendly love he usually feels for a family member. But that's not the case with you. Sure, you've most likely known Daryl for a long time (assuming you joined Rick's group at any point from Atlanta to Prison, can pick at your discretion). So since you've known each other for a while, Daryl has had time to realize that his feelings for you are far from friendly. All the tenderness and care that he feels for you hardly compares to friendship. Daryl definitely didn't feel like kissing Carol's lips every time she came into his field of vision. That's the difference.

• But realizing your feelings is only halfway there. Daryl isn't the type to make the first move and declare his love. He's a very insecure person because of his past, so it would be hard for him to believe that someone like you would want someone like him. Daryl will just watch over you from the sidelines, he will make sure you are safe and will always be there to protect you. Even if it's just a harmless fall down the stairs when you were arranging jars of canned fruit on the top shelf in the Alexandria pantry. He will notice that the stepladder beneath you is wobbling dangerously and will be there to catch you and prevent you from bruising any part of your body. He will take great care of you.

• Daryl is probably the type of man who idolizes and admires the girl he's in love with. Both her character and inner world, as well as her looks. He would spend hours just looking at your unconditionally beautiful face. Every mole, every freckle, every wrinkle in the corner of your eyes when you smile. God, he could never get enough. Every part of you is perfect. Daryl's not sure he's ever seen a more beautiful woman. I mean, he probably had a soft spot for women he personally thought were pretty in the past, but it was never more than a glance in their direction. Just trying to say that Daryl isn't a pristine and innocent man who never thought about women. Over the many years of his maybe not the most prosperous life, Daryl has definitely had his fair share of beautiful women. But it had always been respectful. Mental admiration from the sidelines. Daryl never "barked" or "bit" like Merle. Daryl is much more respectful of women.

• That's why he likes to watch from the sidelines and think about you. A lot of thinking. Daryl is indeed a man of few words, but he has more than enough to think about. And when he falls in love, you become the center. Except when Daryl has to think about survival or when he and Rick are making a plan of action to save the group. But rest assured, all of Daryl's free time is spent thinking about you. He's very observant and remembers every little thing about you so he can think about it later. Do you like to read? Daryl will listen to you talk about your favorite books and find them during one of your outings, rest assured. Do you like wildflowers? Great, a bouquet of a hundred of them will be waiting for you on the doorstep of your Alexandria home when you come home after a hard day's work. Maybe you like a certain kind of clothing? Like something knit? Daryl will either find it during the outing or ask Carol to help with it when she's not busy. He won't say who it's for, but Carol certainly knows. And after you get those little gifts, Daryl will watch you smile widely because you know who left them under your door. And Daryl will think about your smile until he falls asleep at night. But he'll only dream about you, too.

• Somehow you were the first to admit your feelings because Daryl is actually cowardly about these things. A man can take on walkers or hostile people with his bare hands (like the Saviors), but he definitely can't just go and tell someone he really likes how he feels. No, you have to push him. And hints aren't enough, you have to say it outright. And then probably prove the sincerity of your words of love for the rest of your life, because Daryl Dixon is a very insecure man. He knows in his brain that you really do love him and will be faithful to him, but those childhood traumas are really getting in the way of his life. Be prepared for that.

• Your relationship with Daryl will gain momentum gradually. I don't think Daryl really likes all these formalities and labels like "girlfriend" and "boyfriend". You're just his and he's just yours. There's no need to complicate it all, the world of the zombie apocalypse is already very complicated. But if you care about dates and formalities, surely Daryl can learn to take it seriously. Not right away, but he will. Just give him time and he'll lay the whole world at your feet. And he'll start marking your anniversary with a marker on his calendar so that he definitely won't miss this important day for you (he won't admit it, but for him too). Daryl will be learning and you'll have to be a good mentor in this relationship for the first few years. It will be worth it, trust me.

• Daryl Dixon gets attached to people easily. He's like a big loyal dog. I mean, have you seen how loyal he is to Rick and Carol? He bites at first, doesn't want to let anyone in, but eventually he gives in and lets you take his heart and soul under his protection. Take care of that. My point is that this is the same way love works in Daryl's case. I'm pretty sure Daryl doesn't believe in the concept of love at first sight and stuff, he rather believes that love only comes about through the process of a relationship. So at first he thinks you are just a pretty woman. Then a friend. Then a good friend. And yes, he may feel sympathy, affection and probably crush at this time, but not love. No, he falls in love with you gradually. It's a slow process, but in Daryl's case it will be forever. He's definitely a one-woman man. And when he allows himself to really love you and not just be a little bit in love, when his heart completely belongs to you and he finally says "I love you" with all seriousness and responsibility, rest assured that this is love. This man will show you what true love is. Safe, sincere, and endlessly committed. Just give him time. Let him love you.

• The following headcanon (though I think it's unqualified canon) about Daryl's loyalty follows from this. You may try to be jealous of him or think he'll fall in love with someone else (it all depends on your confidence), but Daryl will prove time and time again that he's only loyal to you. This man is serious about his and your feelings and your relationship. Therefore, he will not give not a single reason for jealousy. But there could be quite a few women around (and men probably too) who might like Daryl. He doesn't care, he will never look at anyone else. Why would he do that when he has you? You're perfect for him and his heart doesn't belong to him anymore. So if Daryl notices your jealousy and insecurity, he'll spend all his time trying to prove to you that you're the one for him. He's deeply committed. To Rick, to Carol, to Maggie, to Alexandria. He's eternally devoted to you.

• The relationship with Daryl will be full of complexities, let's not turn a blind eye to that. He's a complicated man with a lot of trauma behind him. The situation is more acute if you're a complicated person, too. There's a lot to put up with. Probably a lot of fighting at the beginning of the relationship, especially if we're talking about Daryl from the first seasons of the show. But if you're both willing to work on that relationship, it will work well. Again, not right away, but it will. Daryl is sure that his love for you will be enough for both of you and certainly for solving all your problems in this relationship. He will try his best for you and you will try your best for him too.

• Physical intimacy is probably going to be difficult. Daryl's not a fan of close physical contact, especially with someone he can't call his family. You know, the boy had a shitty childhood. But he feels the need to feel the warmth of your skin on his skin. So he may unknowingly touch you before your relationship even begins. It could just be a "casual" hand collision when you both reached for the same item on the shelf. Or he may lightly touch your shoulder when he needs to get your attention and say something to you. You shouldn't pressure him with this and force a hug or anything like that. He will definitely come to it on his own when he's comfortable and he sees that you're okay with it. As your relationship progresses, he will open up to new types of physical contact more quickly. Sure he'll hug you a lot, try to hold your hand in his, but it's all in private. And of course kissing. I think Daryl actually likes kissing, but he's not very good at it for lack of much experience. Teach him how to kiss well if you have enough experience yourself. He'll be a good student. Especially when it comes to lessons involving his lips on yours. I'm pretty sure Daryl will become very clingy as your relationship progresses. When you're alone together, he won't be able to feel comfortable unless his arms are around you in one way or another. He physically needs to hold you, to bump his nose into your neck and hair to smell your scent, which he loves so much. And of course kissing. Gentle kisses or passionate French kisses, he loves it all.

• Daryl definitely doesn't like the display of attachment on the publick. He considers it yours and his alone. Something private that needs to be kept out of the public eye. Well, he's also pissed off by those ambiguous looks Carol and Rick give him after you call him "baby" or "cutie" in public. But Daryl is willing to hold your hands and will even let you kiss him on the cheek in public if he's in a good mood. He'll save the rest for the two of you alone in your sweet home in Alexandria.

• As for intimacy, everything is ambiguous here. I think for Daryl it is not at all a mandatory aspect of the relationship. If you are asexual, he will have absolutely no problem with this. You are more than enough. The opportunity to see you smile, hug you and make you happy is all he needs. Sex is not necessary and Daryl can definitely live without it if you are not interested in sexual relations. But if you are not against it, then he will be happy to please you. I mean, he does it every day just by existing and loving you, but if he can please you in a sexual sense, he will be happy to do so. But again, not right away. You both will go to this gradually. Trial and error. Only when he completely opens up to you and is not ashamed of his scars, knowing that you love them completely and completely because they are a part of him. But most importantly, when you yourself tell him that you are also ready, then you can act. Daryl has some experience. Merle ordered Daryl... a prostitute for his twenty-first birthday and Daryl had to do it. I think he was the one feeling like a prostitute, not the woman. And maybe he's slept with random women from a bar a couple of times after drinking too much. But it was never anything special and not out of great desire. With you, it's different. Sex with you is his way of showing you love in a new way. Either way, he knows how it works, but you still need to guide him. Show him how you like it and help him the first few times. Daryl is a quick learner, especially if you help him. So pretty soon he'll memorize all the right places and positions to make you feel good as hell, nothing less. Daryl will make sure that you feel good first.

• Your comfort is Daryl's absolute priority. Over the years, he will learn to compromise and give in when necessary. Daryl loves you unconditionally and is ready to be on his knees in front of you, this is what you have done to him with your love and tenderness. Daryl Dixon has become soft and fluffy around you. Just for you. Merle would call him a pansy and laugh, but Daryl doesn't care. Not anymore. You're all he cares about.

• You're his safe place. His home. His heart and soul belong to you, take care of it. And then Daryl Dixon will move mountains for you, you bet he will.

~ A cute little headcanon as a bonus: I honestly think the soundtrack of the relationship with Daryl, is the song: The Goo Goo Dolls - Iris.

[rensylph]

<< ✯ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 ✯ >>

<< yandere Jing Yuan >>

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

The arrival of the astral express towards the xianzhou loufu has caught the attention of many people as well caught the suspicion of the cloud knights about their arrival, but the tension was caught after the generals beloved has entered into the room

Contain : forced marriage, implied non con, baby trapping, implied female reader, mind break, and other disturbing content.

DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT

Credit : towards the dividers creator ( I forgot the username )

( English is not my first language )

During the astral express arrival towards the xianzhou loufu and is now being interrogated by the sky faring commission head madam yukong suddenly a calming and elegant aura rises when one the doors leading towards the outside open.

An elegant person wearing a blue hanfu with many flower and crane patterns cover the entire exterior, as well wearing a snow white shawl around them. Cradling a newly born baby with white tips of hair peeking and seems to be peacefully resting and is wrapped on a brown and gold thick fabric to make sure it's not cold in a burrito wrapping style sleeps peacefully on their mother's embrace.

A group of cloud knights and attendants follow behind them to make sure their masters needs are fulfilled as well their protection is secured.

"talk about an entourage" march 7th whispers towards stelle, to bad she wasn't listening she was busy admiring the person.

"good evening commander ( name ), might tell me why you are back so early from your evening stroll" madam yukong asking the stranger. "I heard some interesting facts about the astral express coming towards the luofu and I just have to see for myself" ( name ) cradling their 1 month old baby in their hands.

"yes the rumors about the astral express visiting are true but I must have to interrogate them to make sure they don't have any harmful intentions in the luofu, especially after the news about you and your baby being born" madam yukong replied with a stern look, "don't be too serious yukong, what happened if the luofu have a rumor of not knowing how to treat our guest" you replied, "my dear guest of the astral express welcome to the xianzhou luofu, I'm commander ( name ) or by other titles the GENERAL BELOVED "

Your memories before your marriage with him were a blur, you remember being a disciple of the previous sword master jingliu alongside him. You and him would spend time, practice together and play together. All your life you remember him being your only true friend. Even when you managed to discover some of your friends on your own Jing yuan will always be the one you trusted.

Unlike him who grew to be a legend and was soon promoted into a general you stay the same, even tho your skills are not as powerful as him and the other high cloud quintet, you were still strong by standard. You were originally a candidate to be a general but the position was ultimately given to Jing yuan.

He became so clingy, I mean he was clingy before but now he's more due to rarely seeing you outside of work. Madam Baiheng said that you two should just get married by now since you two knew each other for long as well the relationship being more than platonic. And the other agreed. Even tho you denied you and him being a thing, Jing yuan is not against the idea saying that you two should get married together.

Until Baiheng death shift everything upside down, Dan feng led astray and tried to resurrect her using a forbidden ritual and was captured and was forced into reincarnation and his new identity Dan heng is banished from the Luofu, Yingxing was infected by mara struck and left, master jingliu has every sense of sanity and was ultimately with Jing yuan and is now captured and imprisoned.

Now it's just you and Jing yuan all alone together.

One day, you were visiting Jing yuan to see his condition and how he's holding up after these unexpected events. He was drinking tea in his office and you asked him how he was.

He replied "I can't lose anybody else... I can't lose you" and suddenly he stands up and knocks you unconscious....

You wake up in a luxurious bedroom, and when you stand up, you realize you were chained towards the wall, you tried breaking it using anything to set yourself free. Until the door of the bedroom opens revealing Jing yuan.

He purposely chained you and trapped you in this room to keep you safe, you tried everything, you begged and asked him to set you free but he won't budge and he leaves the room.

So every night he would come and bed you, no matter how much you resist he's stronger than you physically over power you, why would he do this is because he wants a child to tie you down with him.

And he managed to tie you down, your first son, Jing Yan. Was born after a few months of this happening, poor baby... The first week you actually refuse to hold him only your attendance but you eventually started to grow closer to him.

And Jing yuan brought another one, yanqing to grow the family he always wanted, and suddenly every sense of your mind started to numb. As well some of your memories are erased completely.

Soon a wedding between you and him happened and was announced as husband and wife... In other words you have become the GENERALS BELOVED ...

[leth-writes]

Some thoughts about Tim and the Batfam

SUMMARY: just thinking about Tim and the batfam

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans. HEAVY discussion of drugging and taking away of autonomy.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

Tim is a really interesting person, in general. I’m just obsessed with the idea of him drugging a darling, just keeping them all pliant and sleepy and curled up in his bed, even if he’s platonic. 

He spends a lot of time just…watching you, whether that be through cameras or in real life.

You never find the cameras, even though you know they’re there. If you asked him, he wouldn’t deny it. Why would he? There’s nothing you could do about it, and he honestly doesn’t trust your opinions on your own safety. Tim views you as quite innocent and naive, and that’s part of why he spends so much time building a little cocoon in the bed for you to curl up in, your soft snuffles just barely moving the light sheet he’s laid around you.

Just. UGH. I think at first he’d drug your food.

But you start noticing, and you start avoiding food. This sets the rest of the batfam off; is TIm not taking care of you properly?!

(They sometimes talk about you like a pet. It’s weird. You’ve learned not to mention it.)

In response, you’re tied down with soft satin straps and drugged out of your mind through an IV. You’re on an all-liquid diet, practically seeing stars. Tim doesn’t need you conscious or coherent, just safe from harm, after all.

I could even see him putting you in a temporary coma, at least until the heat from your kidnapping dies down. 

I can’t get  over the idea of you just. Trusting him so much, so naively, and he’s just. Fucking drugging your hot chocolate to get you to the manor, he knows if he doesn’t then Jason will and Jason won’t be as gentle about it.

UGH just imagine him doing those exercises every day with you to keep your muscles from atrophying AGHHHH

You wake up afterwards, it’s dark and your mouth is dry. You try to sit up- and you can’t. You’re too weak, too tired from the still-present drugs coursing through your veins. It’s then you see a bright flash, illuminating the corner and it’s FUCKING TIM JUST STANDING THERE

He uses his best camera, just dedicates it to pictures of you, creates an album.

He shows it to everyone else, they’re all cooing and aweing and you’re just sitting there like HELLO PLEASE LET ME LEAVE 🙁

Eventually he might even give you a bit of a choice. You can eat the food, or you can get an injection. When you take the injection you lose an entire day of time, and who knows what the FUCK happened? (nothing, Tim just. Spent most of the day working, occasionally taking the time to brush a hand over your face, just gently tracing your features.)

The others start to get annoyed Tim’s hogging you, and he gets you a wheelchair. You’re too weak, too drugged to be able to move yourself around, and he somehow manages to put some sort of thing on the wheels that lock if you try to go out the door. Like the fucking Grocery Carts.

He starts wheeling you around, letting you see the garden and the birds and Batcow. You spend a lot of time in the library with Alfred the cat curled in your lap, purring as you try to follow the plot of a simple book, your eyes too blurry to see the words properly.

Jason’ll read to you, he likes the bonding time. Plus, your eyes can’t really focus on anyone’s face too long, so he doesn’t have to worry about you being scared by the scars ripped into his skin by his death.

Cass’ll roll you into her studio, prop you against the wall, and just do a stunning routine. Unfortunately you can’t see it very well, and you clap really slowly because your hands feel like they’re filled with lead. She appreciates the effort.

Dick eventually takes over your stretches, though he does sometimes have to fight Bruce for the right. Both love helping you gently stretch out your limbs, admiring the shaking that only comes from intense effort. You’re cute, like a newborn lamb.

It’s infuriating watching Dick do all these complicated moves, while you can barely lift your head, but oh well, they’re so happy you’re here!!

Damian treats you like a younger sibling, even though you’re significantly older than him. He adores having this position of power over you, and abuses it to spend most of his time with you just. Showing you his animals. Titus is practically your emotional support dog at this point, and he trains Ace to be your guard dog.

Bruce loves having you curled up in the office, snoring slightly on the couch, as he slowly wades his way through work. He’ll throw a blanket over you, even as you whimper and shy away from the food he’s hand-feeding you. You aren’t allowed to feed yourself anymore, hell you can barely lift your hand to your mouth.

You eventually get used to spending all your time just. Hanging around, sleeping and letting everyone else do everything for you.

[janeyseymour]

All I Ask

Loosely based off of two prompts: one where R asks Mel to hold her as more than just a friend the night before Mel goes on a first date, and another where both R and Mel are set up on blind dates (requested by @gwennybriggs)... enjoy.

WC: ~4.15k

One thing about Barbara Howard is that she loves to play match maker.

“All I’m saying, Melissa, is maybe it’s time to get yourself back out there!” Barbara antagonizes her best friend once again during a lunch period. The kindergarten teacher looks to you with a small smirk. She knows of your feelings for a certain redhead sitting in between the two of you, and she’s hoping that the second grade teacher will just take the damned hint. The kindergarten teacher also knows of the feelings that Melissa harbors for you. 

“And all I’m sayin’, Barbara,” Melissa says that name with a pointed tone. “Is that I don’t need no one in my life to ‘complete’ me, or whatever bullshit you wanna tell me being in love does.”

“Melissa, it’s been two years since you broke it off with Gary. Don’t you think it’s time to get yourself back out there? Just maybe?”

“I don’t need nobody- not when I have a happy life as it is.”

That is the end of the conversation for the time being, but then Melissa starts to think it over. Maybe what Barbara is saying is true- it’s been a while. And she does miss having someone to fall asleep with at night. Although… whenever you come over, the two of you end up curled up on the couch together, and occasionally you will spend the night in her bed with her.

It’s platonic. It’s just friends being friends. At least that’s what Melissa tells herself. That’s what you tell yourself too when you lay in bed with her at night and wonder if maybe, just maybe, this is something more. 

So the next time you’re over, Melissa asks you about it.

“What do you think about what Barb was saying the other day at school? About… finding love and all that shit?” the redhead asks you as her head lays in your lap.

You stiffen slightly, not sure if this is your chance to say anything. Green eyes look up to meet your own, trying to figure out your thoughts.

“I mean, I think it might be good for you,” you shrug softly.

“Well,” she says as she sits up to look at you more intensely. “What about for you? Miss eternally single?”

The reason you’ve been single as long as you have been is because of your feelings for the redhead, not that she knows it. You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, letting her know that you have hesitations in your answer. “I guess maybe I could consider going out on a date or something.”

So the next day at school, during lunch, love lives are the topic of the staff room.

“I was thinking… what if we set you up with someone I know?” Barbara asks. “C’mon, you know I would pick someone good for you.”

Melissa sighs a great breath. “Will it get you off my back if I say yes?” At the kindergarten teacher’s nod, the redhead swallows harshly before, “Fine.”

“Oh, how wonderful. I know just who I should set you up with!”

“You know, Y/N and I were talkin’ last night, and she’s thinkin’ ‘bout getting back into the dating game too. You know of anyone to set her up with, Lowercase?” Melissa asks.

Janine’s eyes brighten, and you can swear you see them almost start to sparkle at the idea of getting to play match maker for you. “I do!”

“Oi,” you roll your eyes and shake your head. You elbow the second grade teacher sitting next to you gently. “Way to throw me under the bus.”

“If I gotta do it, so d’you.”

As you and the redheaded second grade teacher head out a few minutes early to use the restroom before picking up your kids from lunch, Barbara whips around to look at Janine and the rest of the group.

“I’m going to say something, and what I say must be kept between those of us in this room,” the veteran teacher says seriously. “That means nobody will tell Melissa or Y/N.”

“Barb, how am I supposed to not tell them?” Jacob asks incredulously.

Barbara stares him down intensely. “If you cannot vow to not say a word to your roommate about this, then you may leave.”

The social studies teacher’s hands raise in surrender, and he urges her silently to continue.

“You’ve all noticed the way those two are always together, and Y/N has stolen my work wife, yes?”

She’s met with a chorus of affirmations as well as head nods. Jacob puts in that you’re almost always over, and that occasionally you end up spending the night after a glass too many.

“I’ve had about enough of this tiptoeing around that those two love sick fools are doing,” Barbara rolls her eyes. “So, I am going to pretend to send Melissa up with one of my friends. Janine, you will set up Y/N with one of your friends. And we all ensure together that the two of them end up in the same place at the same time without them finding out that they will be showing up to the same date, yes?”

“Oh my god!” Jacob grins and claps his hands together in excitement. “We all get to play match maker!”

“Do you see now why we mustn’t speak a word of this to Melissa or Y/N?” Barbara looks at the excited man pointedly.

He gives a serious nod.

That day, Barbara gives a talking head to the camera men. Janine joins her. 

“When Barbara Howard wants something, Barbara Howard gets that thing,” the kindergarten teacher states. “And what Barbara Howard wants now more than anything is for those two to get their heads out of their asses. The two of them… flirting harder than Janine and Gregory were before they finally pulled their acts together.”

“Hey!” Janine gasps. “Did I only get pulled into this interview to get insulted?”

The veteran teacher just gives her a knowing look and a pat on the shoulder.

The next day, Barbara comes in with a pep in her step as she knows that her plan will soon be put into place.

“What has you in such a chipper mood?” Melissa asks as she pours herself and you a cup of coffee before the kids come in. The redhead places your cup where she knows you’ll end up once you show up for the day.

The kindergarten teacher looks to Janine, who is sitting very quietly (for once), before grinning. “I found the perfect person for you to go out on a date with.”

“Oh?”

“A friend of mine,” is all Barb offers up. “So, you have a date at six tomorrow night at The Dandelion.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Would you rather I change it to tonight?”

A blush creeps into the second grade teacher’s cheeks. “No. No thank you.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you walk into the room, cheeks flushed from the cool air outside. 

“Hey,” Melissa smiles softly at you. She juts her chin out in the direction of your steaming hot cup of coffee. “Made it for you already.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you grin as you go to put your lunch in the refrigerator. “I think I’m going to need it today.”

“Well,” the second grade teacher chuckles as you sit down next to her. “If you need another cup, you know you can always ask me to grab you another.”

You lay a gentle hand on her knee and squeeze it affectionately. “You’re the best.”

Mr. Johnson smirks at the camera.

Because the group has conspired to set the two of you up unknowingly to you and Melissa, no one speaks of the redhead’s date at lunch- much to her surprise. Melissa will take it though- not having to deal with the crew on her back about it.

“You comin’ back to my place today?” the second grade teacher asks as you’re packing up your lunch.

You nod with a small smile as you nudge her affectionately. “I’ll bring the wine?”

“Should I bring enough for Jacob too?”

“I will be out with a new man, so no need,” the social studies teacher cuts into your conversation. “Hopefully, this one works out.”

So, you and your coworker end up on the couch together after a long day with a delicious meal and a rather full glass of wine in front of each of you.

“So, anything interesting happen at school today for you?” you ask as you lay your head down in the redhead’s lap.

Melissa hums softly before sighing. “Barb is setting me up with her friend. I have a date tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly. “Oh?”

She shrugs, trying to gauge how you feel about that. And thankfully, you’re able to mask your true emotions on the matter. “That’s nice. It seems like everyone is starting to put themselves out there lately.”

“I’m sure Janine will find someone for you soon enough,” the redhead tells you. “You’re a catch, and someone is bound to see that sooner or later.”

You grimace. You’re not so sure about that. And even if you were, you only want one person, and it’s becoming more and more clear to you that you’ll never have your chance with her. So, in that moment, you decide that starting tomorrow maybe you need to start distancing yourself from Melissa in order to get over this silly crush you have on her. You have to get yourself back out there without her constantly lingering in the back of your mind.

“Hun,” she thinks she’s reading you like a book. “C’mon, you’re a great woman. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re beautiful, and then when you let your personality shine through… you’re the real-”

You shake your head as you sit up. “Can we just… not talk about this right now? I just want to enjoy tonight with you… savor our time alone while I can before someone swoops in and steals you from me.”

Green eyes meet yours, filled with a pleading look to just drop the matter of the conversation. It’s clear to you that she wants to continue to try to boost your confidence and build you up, but she relents. “So, did anything interesting happen at school with you today?”

After polishing off the bottle of wine that you brought over, Melissa ends up bringing out a second bottle. You hate to admit that you perhaps have a few too many glasses just because you’re trying to drown out your sorrows about not ever being able to tell the woman next to you how you feel and that this is probably the last night you’ll have with her where things are exactly the way they are now.

“C’mon, hun,” Melissa nudges you gently after your head has hit her shoulder for the fourth time that night. “Let’s just head to bed.”

You nod against her shoulder sleepily, but you make no moves to get up.

“Y/N,” the redhead nudges you again. “C’mon.”

“I’m comfortable here,” you yawn out. “You’re comfortable.”

“I can be comfortable up in my bed too,” Melissa retorts with a small laugh. “I can’t sleep on a couch anymore, so c’mon.”

You let out a small whine but disentangle yourself from her own limbs before looking at her with a pout.

“Trust me,” your coworker sighs as she sets a hand on the small of your back to guide you up the steps. “You being grumpy and getting up for a proper night’s sleep is much better than me being a bitch tomorrow because I woke up sore after a night of sleeping on the couch.”

You nod your head begrudgingly. The two of you crawl into bed as you usually do- both having respective sides. A chill rushes through you as the wine drunkenness begins to wear off and your met with the cool sensation of Melissa’s fan running in her bedroom.

“You cold?” the redhead asks as she lifts an arm for you to scoot under.

You nod as you shimmy into her space with a soft smile. Her arm wraps around you and pulls you even closer.

In a rather bold move, instead of laying your head on her shoulder, you turn to face her with a sad smile.

“What’s wrong?” Melissa asks you. “Are you still cold? Should I get extra blankets?”

You shake your head. “I just… things are going to change if all goes well with you and this man Barb’s setting you up with, and if Janine ever finds someone for me.”

Melissa just hums. She’s not quite sure what to say to you about this. What you’re saying is true, and it’s becoming clear to her that you aren’t necessarily thrilled with that. If she’s being honest with herself, she isn’t too fond of the idea of things changing between the two of you either.

“And… I know it’s dumb, and I know that we aren’t together, but I like what we have,” you mumble.

“I do too, hun,” Melissa squeezes your hand gently.

“Can we just… pretend for tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Green eyes look at you curiously.

“Pretend that we’re not scared of what’s coming next, or scared of having nothing left?” You quote Adele’s lyrics unknowingly. “Like… if this is my last night with you, where everything is how it usually is, can you hold me like I’m more than just a friend?” You know you’re still drunk, or at least somewhat intoxicated. If Melissa shoots you down, you can blame the alcohol. And if she doesn’t, tomorrow you can excuse your question with the alcohol too. What do you really have to lose? Not much, if you’re being honest with yourself.

The way that she pulls you close to her and wraps her arms around your waist simultaneously makes your heart grow three sizes and break. What is happening feels so right, but you know that this is only one time. It won’t ever happen again. You feel warm lips against your neck, and you inhale deeply. Why can’t this dream of yours be a reality?

As the redhead beside you gently nips at your neck, just once, she too has feelings of regret. Why is it that she only wants you right now?

The two of you fall asleep dreaming about the same thing- a life together. 

You wake first, and the feeling of still being in Melissa’s arms has you practically swooning. If anything, throughout the night, she held onto you tighter than she had while awake. It’s warm and domestic, and you can smell the perfume she was wearing last night as it surrounds and intoxicates you.

You lay there in a peaceful bliss until her alarm starts going off. She wakes with a small jolt before her eyes peel open, and you’re met with her sparkling eyes.

“Hey, hun,” Melissa smiles at you. “You sleep off all that wine last night?”

You roll your eyes playfully as you prepare to pull yourself away from her- as much as you don’t want to. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Hungover at all?”

You shake your head, only to sheepishly start nodding before rolling away from her. “My head is pounding.”

“Well, you know where the advil is,” the second grade teacher chuckles as she starts to sit up. “And I’ll make us breakfast and coffee, so hopefully the hangover lessens.”

As you get ready, neither of you speak of the events that happened last night. You quietly note that you’re surprised Jacob didn’t make his way back to the apartment last night, but that’s really all the two of you talk about. And then you’re off to Abbott in your car, while she follows behind in her own.

At school, you don’t settle in next to the redhead like you usually would for the morning news. Instead, you make up a lame excuse about having to do work in your classroom. You don’t even take the offered second cup of coffee from your coworker. You have to start distancing yourself if you’re going to survive working at her while she starts dating again.

During lunch, you make your way into the staff room quietly and grab your meal from the refrigerator before trying to make your way out relatively unnoticed. It doesn’t work. Of course, Melissa wants you to sit with her like you usually do.

“I- I think I need some peace and quiet,” you offer meekly. “But thanks.”

You’re out the door by the time Melissa is huffing about your actions. “Girl damn near lost her mind, I swear.”

It’s towards the end of the day when Janine approaches you.

“Janine, I really can’t today if you’re going to try to rope me into ‘saving the school’ again,” you sigh as you begin to gather your things in your arms. 

“It’s nothing like that,” the energetic woman tells you quickly. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day.”

“Didn’t really look at my phone today,” you grumble.

“Well, I wish you would’ve. I know you have nothing to do after school today, so… my friend got back to me. You have a date tonight.”

“I’m not going on a-”

“Yes, you are,” Janine tells you in a strict, out of character, tone. “Be at The Dandelion at six.”

“Janine,” you groan. “I just want to-”

“You’ll be at The Dandelion, or my friend is going to be really pissed with me. Please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” the short woman struggles to come up with an answer on the fly. “Because you’ve been single for so long, and with everyone else getting back out there again… it might be good for you. C’mon, just one date. That’s all my friend is asking for- and then… if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.”

“Fine.”

Janine squeals happily. “My friend will be in a green shirt tonight, so keep an eye out.” The second grade teacher knows what Melissa will be wearing because that was the topic of the staff room today at lunch, which you were not at.

You’re absolutely dreading this. You do not want to be at The Dandelion to go on a date with one of Janine’s friends. And yet, you still find yourself changing into a pair of jeans and a nicer shirt to go to dinner.

Upon your arrival, you survey the area, only to discover that you’re there before your mystery person in green. You find a seat at the bar and sigh, ordering a glass of wine.

About five minutes later, you see someone in green walk in, but they look oddly familiar. It- It’s Melissa. Fuck. She too surveys the area, clearly looking for her date. The redhead has no such luck, but she does lock eyes with you and give a small wave before making her way over.

“What are you doing here?” she asks quietly. “Come to spy on my date?”

You take a sip of your wine. “Actually, Janine set me up on a date, but they aren’t here yet.”

Melissa hums indifferently. “Neither is my date. What do you say we just wait together here?”

Not necessarily knowing how to reject her offer, you nod and pull out the stool next to you for her to sit on. She too orders a glass of wine, and once she’s served, she looks at you.

“So, we gonna talk about why you pulled away from all of us today at school?”

You blow out a breath. “I had some things to do in my classroom.” You can tell those green eyes boring into your soul don’t believe you, so you attempt to change the subject. “How were the kids today for you?”

By 6:25, neither of your dates have shown. The two of you are sitting together quietly nursing your wine and still looking around.

When the time hits 6:30, you sigh. “Do you think they’re going to show?”

The redhead glances down at her watch. “Half an hour late, and still not here? I doubt it.”

“What the fuck?” you groan. “I’m going to kill Janine.”

“Barb ain’t gettin any of my meatballs any time soon,” your coworker grumbles as she pulls out her phone.

You dial Janine, fully intending on giving her a piece of your mind. She picks up after two rings.

“Hey! How’s it going?” she answers as cheerily as she always does.

“Your stupid friend never showed up,” you grit out.

You can practically see the face Janine makes as she gasps out a, “What? No, they did!”

“No they didn’t!” you hiss into the phone. “I’ve been sitting here for the last half an hour waiting for someone in green to show up, and no one has!”

“No, my friend definitely showed up, I know it.”

At the same time, Melissa is on the phone with Barbara.

“Barb, your friend never showed! I’ve been sitting here with Y/N for the last half hour waiting.”

“My friend definitely did show,” Barbara’s voice is calm and steady as always.

It takes the two of you a few seconds to let their words sink in before you realize you’ve been played.

“You set us up,” both you and Melissa hiss into the phones at the same time.

Only then do both of your coworker step out of a booth with smiles on their faces. “Maybe.” They both hang up, wave to you with shit eating grins, and then head out of the restaurant together. 

Slowly, you turn to Melissa with wide eyes. She does the same.

“So, you’re my date?” she asks you.

“You’re mine?” you stammer out. “But I-”

“Those two are going to get it tomorrow.”

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tuck a few locks of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. They are.”

“Well,” the redhead sighs. “I guess we should get a table and have dinner.”

“You- you want to go on this date with me?” you fumble over your words. At her nod, you blush, but the smile that washes over your face is genuine and radiant.

Dinner is nice- it’s… it’s different than the other meals the two of you have shared in the past though. Conversation flows easily between the two of you as it usually does, before she takes a deep breath.

“Y/N, we should… we should talk about this.”

Her tone tells you that she’s not interested in the slightest, and you grimace. “I can just… I can just go.” You go to grab your handbag, but a hand stops you as fingers wrap around your wrist.

“I didn’t mean that,” she rolls her eyes. She tugs you in close, and her lips meet yours softly for the first time.

Your eyes go wide as you realize that the woman of your dreams is sitting here kissing you before you reciprocate. And… wow. 

“Y-you-” you stammer out once you’ve pulled away.

She just chuckles and kisses you again. Mumbled against your lips are the words, “I’m glad you’re my date, and not someone else.”

All you can do is smile. Once you pull away, you tell her, “I am too. I was not looking forward to going out with one of Janine’s friends.”

“I mean,” Melissa nudges you. “You kind of are going out with one of her friend’s right now.”

You shrug. “I guess she didn’t lie when she told me I was meeting her friend. I just… didn’t expect it to be you.”

“I didn’t expect you to be Barb’s friend either, hun,” your coworker teases you.

That night, you end up back at her place, and unlike last night where the two of you were just pretending to hold and be held as more than just a friend, it’s real. You are more than friend’s now- doing what lovers do. It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s domestic, it’s warm… it’s everything you could’ve dreamed of when it comes to Melissa.

Your hand is laced in hers as you walk into the staff room the next morning, and Barbara and Janine look rather content with the charade that they had pulled off the night before. It’s clear to you that the others are aware of the situation before them, as Jacob can only grin and fist pump somewhat discretely.

“You still ain’t getting my meatballs anytime soon,” Melissa grumbles at her work wife as she makes her way over to the coffee machine.

“Well worth it, Melissa dear,” the kindergarten teacher chuckles into her own mug. “Well worth it if it means that the two of you finally got your heads out of your asses and are together.”

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie

[loviingpedri]

tripling the fun - jude and jobe bellingham

part 2 -> part 1 here

prompt: jude fulfills everyone’s dreams.

jude x fem!reader.

jobe & reader platonic soulmates

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, arguments (happy ending), jealous jude, all characters are fictional (except jude, jobe, and their parents)

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

salt air, and the rust on your door.

flower in your hair, feet in the sand, salty air entering through your nose.

joining the annual vacation with the bellingham family and your sweet parents, life felt as ease.

at least, for you.

jude was rapidly tapping his feet on the wood bedroom floor. hands in his hair, anxiety filling up his thoughts. jobe was seriously getting concerned.

“mate, you have two days. everything is gonna be okay.” sitting next to him on the bed, jobe put his hand on jude’s shoulder to get his nerves to calm down.

“i’m overthinking it now. what if she says no? what if she only sees me as a brother? am i being delusional?” he could feel his heart racing, and it wasn’t even the day.

jude was planning to ask you out. he felt like no other person who wasn't blood related to him could understand him, deeper and personally better than you. noticing over the past few years, he noticed his rising feelings for you. getting overexcited by the mention of you two hanging out. his cheeks heat up as the thought of you popping into his head. his resistance of trying not to pull you into a deep hug.

jobe, trying to comfort him to the best of his ability, was getting concerned. “jude, you seriously need to calm down. y/n is one of my favorite people in the entire world. have you ever seen her talk to anyone else? i mean seriously, her whole life involves us.”

“you’re not helping,” jude stands up from the bed, heading his way outside for a bit of fresh air. “i need a breather.”

walking across the sand to gather his thoughts, he saw a familiar figure in the distance.

admiring how your hair flowed in the air, perfectly shaped and painted nails coming into contact with the golden sand. your lashes slowly moving up and down as you blinked. he couldn’t grasp the idea of losing you.

“hey jude, what’s going on?” almost standing up, he quickly sat down beside you. “is anyone asking for me?”

shaking his head, “nah, everything is fine. i just needed to take a walk.”

noticing his body language, and how his eyebrows moved when he talked, something was wrong. “you seem tense. is there anything you wanna talk about? what’s on your mind?” you scooted closer to him, touching shoulders.

jude cleared his throat, a lump forming. “there’s nothing wrong. i just wanted to see the sunset. beautiful waves isn’t it?”

“definitely. i wish i could spend all day here.” resting your head on his shoulder, he began to control his breathing and heart rate. struggling to make a next move, he moved his arm to push you closer by your shoulder.

little did you know, your mother and denise were standing from the balcony, watching you two embrace each other’s comfort.

jobe holding his youngest nephew, who was pointing at the future couple, seeing what the future could bring.

----------the next morning--------------

"hey little one." jude picked up his niece and spun around.

"i found your stash of flowers. they look really pretty. are they for me?" catching a small glimpse of the gap of her teeth, jude couldn't help but laugh at the question.

"i would like to say yes, but they're for a really special girl. are you ready to go swim at the beach?"

a frown formed on her lips, "yeah, i guess so. i can't wait to build a giant sand castle that i can live there forever." she threw her arms up high in excitement.

"i don't know about forever, but i'm sure it's gonna be great."

a knock was heard on the door. the air felt colder as tension fell.

"hey jude, we're about to go." you gave him a warm smile, as he stood there in silence. he put the princess down as he went to go sat down on his bed.

he picked up his phone, texting jobe,

i'll be at the beach later, got to get my things together.

he took a deep breath. and for the next 30 minutes, he was trying to form the perfect plan. going out to the balcony to look for a special spot to set up a dinner. noticing splashes that seem far more intense.

getting a better view, he noticed you and jobe. jobe was hugging you from behind and throwing you into the waves. shared laughter echoing throughout the beach. he couldn't lie, the inside of the palm of his hands were sweating and getting white from the grip of the wood. he didn't wanna admit he was getting jealous of his own brother, but the timing was nowhere near perfect for things like this to happen. he has seen moments like this between you two, but it felt different. his head began pounding. he grabbed his towel and ran out to hopefully score a remarkable moment with you

smiles appeared on everyone's faces as he walked through the burning hot sand.

"jude, you're here!" you yelled as sounds of waves crashing and seagulls talking. he waved at you while he gave his mom his belongings for safe keeping.

joining you and jobe in the water, he felt off. in his imagination, jude felt like a mood-killer. the laughter died down, the sun no longer reflected off your skin. he felt like he caused something wrong.

clearing the air, jobe did little small splashes throughout the trio. jude stared at the smile that was on your face after jobe's actions. he felt anger race through his blood. impulsive thinking, he pushed the water right into jobe's face. jobe dodging the salt water in his eyes, he was confused on jude's sudden gesture. you ignored what just happened, because siblings can be siblings.

actions speaking more than words, jude became more aggressive. walking more towards to shore for safety, jude wasn't just playing around. he gave a jude a small but rough push to jobe, making him slip and fall into the water.

"jude, what the fuck." his eyebrows narrowed watching you trying to help jobe to his balance. you weren't sure what was going on, but awkwardness was following all three of you.

jobe cleared his throat, "do you know what we're having for dinner?"

"i think our dads are grilling tonight." jobe nodded as you played with the salt water. without any explanation, jude walked back to get the towel from his mom, and walked back to the house. jobe and you made eye contact in confusion, but just brushed it off.

walking to the shore, the three little children were playing with the sand. classic sand castle with wet sand circling it. picking up the baby boy, giving him a small kiss on his forehead, you could really see jude’s face written all over him.

“y/n, you should sit. the sand is cool under the umbrella.” jobe patted a spot next to him under the shade. sitting the baby down on your lap and hugging his tiny body, he pointed at the sand in jobe’s bucket.

“are you going to help build our castle?” the little princess with her pink hat was desperately trying to scoop a decent amount of sand in her flimsy shovel. jobe nodded his head, but we all know he loses the sand castle contest every year.

“y/n, guess what.” the girl said with a bright smile.

“what?” you smiled back, but more in confusion.

“jude has flowers in his room. i asked if they were for me, he said no. he said it was for someone special though.”

your lips made a small gap. you were shocked at the fact. jobe held in his breath. he was looking back and forth in panic.

“did you know jude was talking to someone, jobe?” he looked at you with slightly wider eyes.

frantically shaking his head, “no, of course not.” he looked at his mom for some help.

“did you know?” you asked denise.

she shrugged it off with a “no darling.” as she was playing it off. you were playing with the baby’s soft curls as your mind wandered off.

—————————

“hey jude, how are you?” walking into his room and sitting down on the desk chair as he sat on the bed, scrolling through social media.

with an unexpected surprise, jude sat up. “i’m doing fine, how are you? you look like you got a nice tan.”

a slight giggle coming out, “yeah, it’s pretty nice. i just wanted to ask you about something.”

“about?”

“our lovely niece told me you bought flowers for someone,” jude instantly looked at you in your eyes. has his secret been busted? “i was just wondering who they were for. usually when you start talking to someone, jobe and i know.”

“oh, it’s nothing really. i bought them just because.”

“just because? you can’t be serious. have you met someone at the beach?” you got up from the chair and sat next to his legs on the edge of the bed.

“seriously y/n. they’re not for anyone. it wouldn’t be any of your business anyway.”

“excuse me?”

“why are you always in my business? i feel like you and jobe are spying on everything i do. and you try to get me to speak about everything. just leave me alone.”

“what the hell are you on about? we’ve never invaded your privacy. if you felt this way, you could’ve said something a long time ago.”

standing up in anger, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. everyone told everyone updates on their life, this wasn’t a secret tradition. surprisingly, jude would be the one sharing most of his life updates.

“you know what, you always take jobe’s side too. i feel left out every time. when i come around, you and him stop laughing and it gets all silent. i feel like i’m the bad guy.”

“jude, you’ve been acting fucking mental lately. i don’t know why you’re being like this, but you need to fix it. i asked a simple question, not a whole lecture from you.”

tears formed in your eyes as you went to leave the room.

“yeah, go run to jobe like you always do.” was the last thing you heard before slamming the door with a loud bam following it.

jobe was waiting outside the door, hearing everything. breaking down in his arms, you thought this vacation would be different.

----------the next morning--------------

the smell of syrup, eggs, and other breakfast goodies was lurking around the beach house.

not a word from jude after the argument. it wasn’t any surprise that everyone in the place heard what was happening. mark, jude and jobe’s dad, made sure to cook butterfly pancakes to try and cheer you up. something he loved doing for you since you were a child.

sitting down with a plate of eggs and toast, he placed the pancake in front of you with a little whipped cream in the middle. giving you a gentle pat on the back, you thanked him quietly. jobe sat down next to you, not wasting a chance to dig in.

all of a sudden, the hairs on your arms rose due to the coldness. awkwardness cooling down the food as jude walked into the room. jobe cleared his throat as he glanced at you before looking down. you continued to try and eat, even though he made you lose your appetite.

“morning.” jude said to his mom as he gave her a little peck on her forehead.

quick change of events as jude sat on the other side of you. it was normal of course, jude, you, and jobe. it was just unexpected that he pretended nothing happened.

everyone ate in awkward silence. except jude, humming and dancing as he ate. his mom looked at him in concern.

“what?” he questioned her, as she quickly shook her head no. “being awfully quiet this morning, what did i miss?” everyone looked at him in confusion.

“nothing, just eat.”

he threw his arms up, “hey, i’m not making this awkward. you guys are.” he got up and started washing his plate and fork.

he was right, we were the ones being awkward. it didn’t change the fact that you didn’t get an apology though. finishing up your breakfast, you forced yourself to approach him with your dirty dishes. putting it into the sink, you stood behind him, waiting for him to be done.

he slightly whispered to you, “it’s fine, i got it.” you nodded at him while you went to the balcony for a summer breeze. soon, your mother and denise joined you.

after a few hours of talking, you got a text from jude. reading,

hey, can we talk later? meet me at the beach in 2 hours.

you tried not to question it. yet, the thought lingered. jude always apologizes straight away after an argument. what made it different now? giving the message a thumbs up, you continued talking with the ladies.

“hey y/n, did jude text you?” denise asked you.

“yeah, he did. he told me to meet him in 2 hours at the beach, but that was about an hour ago.”

“oh honey, you should probably change then.” your mom chimed in.

“what’s wrong with what i’m wearing?”

“wearing pajama pants in hot sand is not very fabulous.” the two moms laughed as they rushed to put something together in your room.

after playing dress up through your suitcase, it was finally time to go. the sun was starting to set, the orange hitting the water perfectly. walking down the creaking wooden stairs, you weren’t sure to expect.

looking to your right, you hands flew on your mouth. a table surrounded with roses, forming a heart shape, was lit with a candle. standing there at the table was jude, with a bouquet of flowers. he looked very nervous.

walking up to him, you really admired the detail. you both started laughing at the sudden seriousness in the friendship.

“are you kidding me? this is surreal.” you hugged him and kissed him on his cheek.

“do you forgive me? is this too much? i didn’t know if the flowers were too much. i also didn’t know if you wanted sand in between your toes as you ate. i mean, i could literally get on my knees and beg for forgiveness. please, forgive me.” cutting him off, you placed a finger on his lips.

“of course i do. i could never stay mad at my best friend.”

“uh. ouch. i was actually going to ask you something. y/n, would you be my girlfriend.”

your mouth formed an ‘o’ shaped. he started tapping his feet in stress.

“i don’t see why i shouldn’t be.” dropping the flowers quickly on the seat, he hugged you.

in history of hugs throughout your friendship, this one was the best one. it marked a new beginning.

a new beginning of love.

-

to one of my lovely supporters - @judesthighveins

[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: you just keep adding lunatics to the list like they're pokemon and you lose patience

─Warnings: mahito (he's a warning himself yeh) blood, death, a little anxiety attack, toxic behaviors, obsession, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Three / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One / Par Two

I'm done downloading my inspiration on this for now, I feel like this is a little longer, sorryyy 😶

YOU WERE too quick to accept that these sorcerers would do whatever they wanted with you, but in a way, starting a verbal fight to refuse to do certain quests would cause you more problems than solutions, so you were just like a body empty of soul moving back and forth, simply waiting for the next order to complete it as quickly as possible.

The worst thing of all was that it wasn't annoying, at least, not the fact of taking orders, you liked it, you didn't have to think too much, just do this and that, you definitely started to think that all those tests of 'are you a leader or a follower' made sense all those times that your result was being a follower, you wanted an easy life and being a leader of anything is a complete stress that you were not going to go through.

So your simplistic and conformist personality only made it easier for all those sorcerers to mold you to their liking, this does not mean that whenever they asked to spend time with you or simply be attached to you you accepted, they would always have a negative response at first, however if they continued insisting, as may be the case with Itadori and Nobara, you would agree to do what they wanted, because accepting is easier than declining. Megumi and Gojo weren't as persistent in asking for small favors or bonding time, which you appreciated.

"I was looking for you, Maki and I are going to go downtown to look for some cursed weapons, do you want to come?"

Nobara, getting into the bad habit of not knocking on your door and entering without permission, throw herself at your bed grabbing your hand to beg you to go out with her and Maki, knowing that you would refuse she started whining about how you hadn't left your room lately and that she had been very busy with the missions. With no other option you accepted, hoping to be able to get back to what you were doing later in the night.

You thanked the heavens that Maki Zenin was skeptical about your stay at the Jujutsu school, since you did not show any interest in developing cursed techniques or improving physical abilities, she thought that you were not important enough, a shame that Nobara had to drag you with her long enough for Maki to end up getting attached to you, you barely talked to her but for some reason she ended up liking you.

"Come on, we don't have all afternoon."

Maki began to walk waiting for you both to follow her steps, a couple of minutes later the two of them began a light idle chat while you followed behind, only with one of your headphones on in case they spoke to you at some point.

"Be careful, you should stop looking at your phone and look at your surroundings, you are so careless."

The girl with glasses grabbed the back of the collar of your uniform to stop you just before you crossed a red zebra crossing for pedestrians, you watched for a moment as the cars sped by just a few centimeters from you with blank eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

You shrugged, putting away your phone like a scolded child, Nobara took the liberty of grabbing your hand to guide you the rest of the way, at least you could walk looking absent-mindedly at anything that caught your attention without worrying about tripping.

Disinterested and bored once they started negotiating about the cursed weapons, you decided that you could go out for a few minutes without anyone noticing to the bakery you had seen around the corner, you felt like something sweet, you were going to buy something sweet and no one will stop you. Unfortunately before you could get out of the alley, because of course, a shop like that wasn't going to be visible to everyone, once again a curse clung to you desperately to be forgiven.

"Not now please."

You took a couple of minutes to release the cursed energy of that curse, feeling your eyelids heavier and your body more relaxed, of course your ability had cons, after all what you were doing was consuming cursed energy, your way of releasing it were resting, which led you to sometimes fall asleep even standing up due to exhaustion.

Your slight drowsiness disappeared when you heard the sewer besides you sliding with a squeak, a strange mass began to come out until it formed a guy who looked like a sewn doll, his bicolor eyes looked into your soul.

"That was very interesting, where is that curse? Did you absorb it? Did you kill it?"

Your parents had taught you that you shouldn't talk to strangers, especially if they seemed like lunatics who could deform and come out of random sewers, and like a good mom and dad's girl, you looked away, backing away to exit through the other side of the alley, but he managed to grab your wrist so you wouldn't run away.

"It's rude to ignore someone when they speak, you know?"

You frowned looking at his hand on you, remaining silent, you let out an inaudible sigh, you always had to end up in this type of situation, tangled with people ─in this case curses─ that trapped you without wanting to let go.

"I sent it to rot in hell, its soul will remain suffering until eternity, remembering and regretting all the evils it has caused, it will be subjected to the worst tortures imaginable."

He remained silent before bursting into laughter, you had said all that so seriously, with that grim face that he almost believed it, you hoped that trying to 'scare' him would work, but this curse had at least a couple more neurons than the ones you used to meet.

"Aren't you funny? It's a shame I have to kill you, I thought we could be friends but you're-"

The ground began to shake, almost losing your balance, you took advantage of the sudden distraction to free yourself from Mahito's grip, approaching the nearest wall so as not to fall due to the tremors, the sewer flew away and you could see how the curse paled, transforming again to escape.

"How many hours have I lost in this chase?"

A new voice came out of nowhere, turning around you saw a blonde man with glasses, he was wearing a uniform and had a blood stained weapon in one of his hands, you looked at each other in silence until he spoke again.

"A student… hey, have you seen that curse? Where did he flee?"

Figuring he was trustworthy enough since he seemed to recognize the Jujutsu high, you silently pointed in the direction Mahito left, earning a nod from him to leave you there alone again. As if that weren't enough, before you could leave the alley to get some sweet, you ran into another curse, this one looked like a volcano with only one eye, it was petting a stray cat while muttering things like 'you're a good boy' in a squeaky voice, you were going to turn around to make this less awkward but your bones had to make that weird sound sometimes when you walk.

His one eye widened at the sight of you, a small rash erupting from his head and he shot up at the speed of light.

"I'll pretend I haven't seen anything if you pretend you haven't seen me."

You decided to reach a mutual agreement because you heard Nobara shout your name, surely they had finished their purchase or had been alerted by the noise earlier, and if they found you now they would surely distract you enough that you wouldn't be able to buy your candy. You took enough time to complete your little mission, as just as you left the bakery you were approached by the red-haired girl who hugged you like a whimpering koala.

"You can't disappear like that out of nowhere! We heard a shaking and thought something bad had happened to you."

She rubbed her cheek against your shoulder, you murmured apologies while still savoring your sweet, Maki remained silent watching the interaction, carefully searching for any kind of scratch or wound on your body, she sighed in relief when she saw that you didn't seem to have anything.

"We have already spent a lot of time here, we should go back, Toge and Panda are waiting for us for our training."

The encounter with these two curses, Mahito and Jogo, was only a small trigger that led you to strangely meet them more times later, you were never close of course, but your eyes always seemed to meet the multicolored or the single eye of those guys in some bustling part of the city, you knew they had some plan with Itadori, but it's not like you could do anything, you just alerted Gojo and he thanked you with a few pats on the head for the information.

On the other hand, you became a recurring conversation on the side of the villains, for one reason or another, everyone got to know you, either because Mahito was talking about you or because you had an encounter with Geto or Choso, not knowing them, you felt strange when you exchanged glances with them because you felt the same as when you first met the trio of sorceres, they already knew you before you knew anything about them.

Their curiosity about you was only based on overprotectiveness and how obsessed the sorcerers were with you, you seemed to be an important person, was it because of your power? Was it because of your cursed technique? It was something they wanted to find out and anyway if it was nothing like that, they could always use you as a wild card to blackmail them.

You decided to ignore their presence while you worked on your assignments, assignments in which you got to know that blonde guy, Nanami, he was assigned with you for a couple of missions and at first he felt quite irritated by your carefree behavior and even annoyed by your lack of interest in the work, but he couldn't blame you, in his eyes, like Itadori, you were just a teenager who shouldn't be doing this kind of work. He proposed to himself that no student was going to die under his care, especially someone who was never in favor of being part of the cursed world.

You just kept adding people who were worried or interested in you to the list, and you thought that there was no one else who could feel that way, that you could finally breathe easy, that you could stop moving through that web that kept you captive, that you could snuggling in your sheets protecting yourself from the cold while you hugged a pillow and slept carefree.

And… out of nowhere you wake up with a wet cheek, an eternal sea of blood where you could float, in the distance a temple made up of different animal and human bones. Your eyes became slightly watery, your only moment of rest ruined by whatever was happening, you were upset, furious, maybe it was the first time since you left home you felt an emotion this strong and vivid.

"This has to be a fucking joke…"

You mumble walking towards the temple hoping to find some kind of answer to get out of there, you wanted your hours of sleep back, you wanted to disconnect your brain from reality and travel to your dreams seeking solace outside of this world, not to be trapped in this stupid place.

"This is unusual, how did you manage to get here, brat?"

You rubbed your face furiously, of course you had heard about Sukuna, how Itadori swallowed a fucking finger, but luckily you didn't have any encounter with the king of curses, until now. Again it seemed like he already knew you, but how could he not? You occupied more than half of Itadori's thoughts.

"That's what I would like to know, is this your domain? Get me out of here."

"I can't."

You couldn't contain the irritated grimace you made, this time your expressionlessness broke as well as your patience, a small twitch appeared in your eye and you began to breathe harder, you rubbed your head too hard, perhaps tearing out a few strands in the process, but you didn't care, you exploded after putting up with so much shit.

"Tell me it's a joke, you're the king of curses, not the king of comedians, get me out of here."

Your tone of voice stopped being monotonous, now radiating annoyance and demand that made Sukuna smile at your outburst, he had always heard Itadori complain about how unexpressive you were with them and now you are exploiting a lot of negative emotions.

"Well, I can do that, but for that I would have to kill you."

"Do it." you didn't take a second or hesitate to respond, almost surprising the man, who watched you in silence as you approached him, your frown more with every step you took "What the hell are you waiting for? Do it, kill me."

Sukuna had seen many people begging him, begging for lives, begging to end suffering, it wasn't even the first time they had begged him for a death, but this felt… strange, he had never seen someone so young desperate to die, he had never seen someone have the anxiety attack you were experiencing right now, and strangely he had never felt the kind of energy you gave off, it was somewhat reassuring. He began to understand all the macabre thoughts about you in Itadori's thoughts, all that overprotection and worry, or perhaps, he had gone crazy, becoming infected because of the human in which he was locked up.

"Mmmh, I can do it, but you will only wake up, if you have managed to get here without trying, you will surely come back when you try to sleep again, but it is only a theory, since you have never been here before."

"In that case I'll think of something, but let me wake up."

"Ok"

He shrugged with disinterest, you didn't even feel how his fist lodged in your abdomen, your body staggered towards his, while he held you with one of his arms, the other pulled out your heart that continued pumping blood, you looked in disgust as he seemed to enjoy watching the blood splash across his face.

"Son of a bitch with a fetish for dishearten people…"

It was the only thing you said before your body faded away, immediately waking up in your bed with labored breathing, you placed your hands on your heart, checking that it was still in place, beating rapidly from the agitation. That specific night you couldn't sleep, because by doing so you returned to Sukuna's domain, or to Itadori's mind, the problem was rooted in the fact that that specific day Itadori was much more worried about you than usual, generating a certain connection that interfered with his and your dreams, the middle ground being Sukuna's domain.

Now you couldn't even go to sleep thinking about having a good dream, because depending on the night you would end up stuck with the king of curses, another person added to the list, would this be some kind of divine punishment? You just want to run to your parents and hug them with all your might, for them to tell you that everything will be okay and that you are a good daughter, for the moment you will settle for hugging your cold pillow in search of comfort while three pairs of eyes watch as your emotions slowly deteriorates.

They would make sure to be the arms that keep you warm, to be the people you turn to in these types of situations, you shouldn't be sad, you are much better off here, more protected and safe.

"Good night darling, have sweet dreams."

Gojo, having shooed the other three students away from you, entered your room, gently wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks, he stroked your hair for a few seconds before brushing away a few strands and kissing your forehead. He hadn't had the chance to prove that he was capable of being a good father in Megumi's eyes, but he could be to you, it's a shame that you still cling to your parents as role models when he was there, he would be a better father figure, just wait.

[bellawoso]

You Belong With Me

Aitana Bonmati x fem!reader

(Sorry to my non-male attracted viewers, there’s only a tiny bit of straightness at the start!)

You and Aitana had met and instantly clicked as soon as you made the move to Barcelona, even though when you moved you had no experience speaking the Spanish language at all, Aitana used her broken English which never failed at making you laugh to teach you the basics of her first language.

When you were at Arsenal, you met a man at the bar when the team was celebrating a successful victory against Chelsea which ensured that North London stayed red. After engaging in a conversation with him, you learnt that the two of you shared similar interests including football, and he later asked you out on a date which you immediately accepted.

After a few more dates, texting back and forth, and the short but sweet kisses you two shared, he soon asked if you would be his girlfriend, which you accepted happily.

In all honesty, you hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and so when you met him, you completely misunderstood your platonic connection with him as a romantic connection between you two.

When your contract ended with Arsenal, Barcelona almost instantly reached out offering you a new contract, one that you couldn’t turn away.

At the time, you and your boyfriend were hitting the 8 month mark, you had moved in together and broke the news to him over dinner. He agreed to long distance, and when he mentioned how proud he was of you at the time, you really thought he was the one.

You two did long distance for around 3 months, almost hitting your 1 year anniversary, your boyfriend had previously explained his plans to come over on the 12th, 2 days before Valentines Day. But on February 8th, you received a phone call from him, explaining he couldn’t come as he had thought over your relationship and didn’t think it was worth it to continue long distance for over a year.

You weren’t heartbroken, but you more just felt numb, you told Aitana about what happened but failed to notice the look of relief masked by her predominantly angered state at your boyfriend for hurting you only a few days before Valentines.

The night before Valentines, Aitana had come round one again to comfort you as your head rested in her lap, and once again you missed the red tint to her cheeks as she ran her fingers through your hair. As you looked up at the brunette midfielder, you saw a look of hesitation in her eyes.

“What’s wrong tana?”

“I- I was just wondering if you would like to spend Valentines with me tomorrow? To take your mind off him.”

“As friends?” You asked, but for once the idea of you spending the day as ‘friends’ with Aitana made your heart ache.

A flash of hurt appeared in Aitana’s eyes as she answered you softly, “Yes, as friends.”

You only hummed in response and buried your head into her lap, hoping to hide the disappointment on your face.

———————————————————————

When you awoke the next morning, you were hurt to see that Aitana had left, only leaving you a short message.

From: Aitana

- I pick you at 7, formal wear.

For once, Aitana’s bad English didn’t make you laugh. Instead it reminded you of the uneasy feeling in your chest about your newfound feelings towards your best friend.

You spent most of the day moping around, trying to cure your confused mind about Aitana. You had only ever been with boys in your life, why were you beginning to feel like this now, at 24?

You knew that there was nothing wrong with figuring out your sexuality later than others, but you had listened to most of your teammates’ stories about how they figured they were into girls at 12. You are now double the age they found out about themselves, and a sense of fear settled in your chest at the thought of coming out to everyone, your friends, your family, the public.

So you called one of your closest friends, Keira.

You already knew Keira from the Lionesses team, and when you moved to Barcelona, she was quick to take you under her wing with her and Lucy being the only fluent English speakers in the team.

After a few tries of ringing Keira, the English midfielder finally picked up.

“How did you know you were into girls?”

A chuckle could be heard from Keira’s end of the call, which you made out to be Lucy sat near her.

“I just realised that what I felt for them wasn’t platonic, and was romantic feelings instead, why do you ask?”

“Aitana asked me to spend Valentine’s Day with her as friends, but I’m not sure if I want it to be more than that Kei.”

For a moment, Keira’s end of the line went quiet, which you guessed was the older girl being in thought, until you heard some rustling and then Lucy’s voice through your phone.

“Hello kid, I have news for you.”

“Lucy I swear to god if your going to make fun of me then save it, I have a real problem here.”

“Calm down kid, what I was trying to say that due to me being amazing friends with Mapi, she often talks about how when Aitana third-wheels her and Ingrid, Aitana often spends the entire time gushing about you, does that sound platonic to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“God y/n! Your useless, no wonder Aitana hasn’t asked you out yet, if your this oblivious to all her flirting!”

“She does not flirt with me!” You retorted.

“She calls you amor, lets you sit on her lap, and always blushes when you kiss her cheek, the poor girl probably thinks your 100% straight and leading her on!”

“Well actually Lucy, less than a week ago I thought I was a 100% straight, so..”

“Shut up, just treat it as a date, and kiss her at the end to get your point across and you will be fine”

“Your no help Lucy, goodbye”

And with that, you hang up still trying to process Lucy’s earlier words, Aitana talks about you to others, and now you think about it, is Aitana really flirting with you, have you mistook it as general Spanish affection?

Aitana has never been one to shy away from her sexuality, always making her disgust for romantic activities with men known. You on the other hand, had never confirmed your sexuality as straight, but equally you had only ever dated men, which left people to assume. Did Aitana share your feelings, or had you and Lucy misread the situation?

What you were unaware of though, was Lucy and Keira’s shock which they masked well on the call, and Lucy’s first words when the call ended being: ‘What the actual fuck.’

The whole team knew about Aitana’s tragically unrequited love for you, they saw each time Aitana made a hint of you to reveal your sexuality by making a comment of:

“I just don’t know how you put up with men!”

And each time, they saw how the small glimmer of hope that you would agree with her shatter as instead you laughed it off, replying with “I don’t know I just do!”

———————————————————————

As promised, Aitana’s car pulls up outside your house at 7, to which you rush out of your house ready to meet the beautiful brunette, who was clad in the most gorgeous suit you had ever seen in your entire life.

You didn’t miss how her eyes raked over your figure which was hugged by a strapless back dress which accentuated all of your curves.

She opened the passenger door for you and then walked round to the drivers side, the drive there was filled with silence, little did the both of you know, you both shared the same thoughts of what exactly the other wanted this ‘friend’ date to be.

When you got to the restaurant, you were unsurprised to see that it was some fancy 5-star restaurant that Aitana had picked out.

You had both ordered starters, mains and deserts and had chatted just as you normally would over a bottle of red wine.

Aitana couldn’t help but notice the way the red wine had slightly tinted your lips, and she wished nothing more than to have a chance to taste them some day.

Of course you noticed Aitana staring at your lips, but Aitana didn’t know that at that moment, you had realised that there was no one else you would rather be with right now. That you would trade the past year of good memories spent with your boyfriend, just to remember this one perfect night with Aitana.

“I don’t want to be here as friends.” You said nervously.

A look of shock was evident in Aitana’s eyes, “What do you mean? Have I upset you?”

“No, no! Of course not tana. I meant that I- ”

You paused for a second and made the haste decision to be completely honest with Aitana.

“God, I don’t know how to say this, I’ve never actually asked anyone out before!”

There it was, the look in her eyes that you wanted to see for the rest of your life time, the glimmer of hope that even Aitana herself thought you had fully extinguished long ago.

Aitana could not help her smile which stretched ear to ear, as she helped you out.

“Could this be a date then if you are okay with that?” Aitana asked softly.

“I would love that.”

With that you and Aitana got up and walked out of the restaurant, the previous adrenaline rush Aitana was still on from coming clean about her feelings with you, urged the brunette to lace her fingers with yours as she led you back to her car.

On the drive back, you noticed how tense Aitana looked, so with a similar sense of confidence to Aitana earlier, you grabbed her hand, which rested awkwardly on her lap and moved it to your thigh. Upon doing this Aitana’s stance relaxed visibly, and she looked over at you with a dopey smile, one which you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips.

When it was time to get out of the car when it pulled up outside your house, Aitana quickly scrambled up and walked you over to your door.

“I would invite you in.” You said with a smile, “But I need some time to think, okay?”

“That’s fine, I understand, I will pick you up for training tomorow?”

“I look forward to it.”

But as Aitana turned to leave, you grabbed her bicep pulling her back to you where your lips met hers in a soft, sensual kiss.

You were the first to pull back, offering her a smile, “Night tana.”

“Goodnight y/n.”

———————————————————————

The next morning, Aitana pulled outside of your house at 7:45, ready for the 8am training session, when you both arrived and got out of the car, you made the decision to hold the brunette’s hand as you walked to the locker room.

“Ready?” Aitana asked.

“Always.” You responded.

With her free hand, Aitana pushed open the door, only to hear the familiar chatter and laughter stop.

As you and Aitana came into the view of the other players, you two were met with a few wolf whistles, and many of your teammates muttering:

“I can’t believe it.”

Until Mapi comes barrelling over and basically throws herself on poor Aitana’s back.

“Well done my friend! I see you finally came to your senses and asked her out!”

Aitana’s glare was enough to silence Mapi, who instead turned to you.

“And you, miss england, I thought you were straight!”

This statement recieved yet another scowl from Aitana, who instinctively wrapped her arm around your waist.

“I never confirmed my sexuality.”

“You’ve only ever been with boys, in fact you have a boyfriend of like a year?”

“They broke up, idiot.” Aitana answered for you.

“Hey don’t call me idiot! This is just…unexpected?” Mapi said, feigning a look of hurt.

Only then did Lucy and Keira walk in, to see you with Aitana’s arms still securely wrapped around your waist.

“Ha! I told you guys and none of you believed me, every single one of you except Ona owes me €10!” Lucy exclaimed.

“You betted on us?! And they don’t owe you anything, it was an unfair bet, I already told you I liked her!” You said whilst blushing.

“Lucy you cheater!” Mapi shouted.

Lucy, ignoring them sauntered over to you and whispered “So, what type of gay are you?”

“Lucy that’s possibly the weirdest thing that you’ve ever said in your life.” You said, whilst grabbing Aitana’s hand from your waist and tugging her out if the room.

“I still can’t believe this.” Patri muttered.

———————————————————————

Please loves don’t be shy to send in some requests! 🤍

[karmasloverrr]

fresh out the slammer - rafe cameron

in which y/n realizes the only man she wants isn’t the one standing across from her at the alter

warnings- swearing, angst, kissing, mention of abuse

w/c: idk but a lot

guys this is my first fic so be kind please but like..also leave feedback lmao

———————————————————————————

Soaking in a bubble filled tub, wallowing in your sorrows and mind even hazier from your third glass of red wine, the fight you just had with your fiancé- soon to be husband- left you with an insurmountable amount of racing thoughts.

Getting home late was a recurring pattern for Tommy, drunk and tattered with his tie undone as well as an occasional obnoxiously red lipstick stain underneath his jaw, mocking you when he turns his head away from your “incessant nagging and bitching”.

You asking where he had been turned into hands pulling hair from stress, voice cracks of screeching anger, broken shards of glass from being flown into walls and streams of tears when he put his hands around your neck, again.

“Cover that up for tomorrow.” Catching your breath you glared at him with nothing but hate and irritation.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want the town knowing I’m marrying an abuser or anything.”

Tommy whips around with a finger in your face. “Watch your fucking mouth, Y/N. You’d be nothing without me, your last name changing is a blessing to you, appreciate it. Knowing you’ll be associated with my family and reputation isn’t something to take lightly, got it?”

You stood there just taking it. Staring dazedly at the wall in your kitchen, anything to avoid looking at the man you once respected and maybe even loved.

Your father would be so ashamed of you, he never raised you to take shit from anyone, especially a man who didn’t deserve an ounce of your time. He tragically died when you were 15, leaving you with a narcissistic, alcoholic mother. The reason you were even in this situation with Tommy.

Tommy belonged to one of the most prominent and wealthy families in the OBX. The Randolphs have always had a good relationship with your family, with your dad being a loyal accountant associated with their law firm. After your dad passed they treated you and your mother like some charity cases, always baking food and lending money, to which your mother gladly took.

Your mother suggested the idea of marriage to Tommys parents after she caught you blushing too hard and smiling a little to often about “that Cameron boy”. Rafe Cameron had a reputation around Kildare and it wasn’t a good one. Drug addicted, college dropout, psychopath and constantly picking fights were all tied to his name but to you, he was the only reason the sun came up each morning.

Like you, he lost a parent at a young age, his mother. Trauma bonding and sharing hatred with the Randolph family became a stepping stone for you both. You met through Topper at a party in high school and never really looked back, you became inseparable.

Years spent indulging in each other’s company was platonic until a few years ago when he started looking at you a little more intensely, leaving longing glances and stolen stares across crowded rooms. You both knew your feelings but never spoke it into existence, seeing as you were then just freshly engaged.

Now here you stand, with no love in your heart for the man you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with starting tomorrow, glaring at him stomping up the spiral stairs of your far too perfect and ridiculously gigantic sized “home”.

The drip of the tub faucet echoes throughout the bathroom, your foot thoughtlessly turning the water dial on and off every few seconds. Absently staring off into space, your face is blank but your mind is racing. You are at a true gut wrenching loss at what to do.

The only thing pulling you out of your daze is a text notification buzzing the ceramic tile counter. You snap your head to the phone, looking almost offended that someone could even concur to bother you right now.

Reluctantly, you step out of the bath grabbing a nearby towel to wrap around yourself. You pick up the phone to view the notification, Rafe.

Meet at beach in 10? I know it’s late.

Your lips tip up in a smile, it’s almost as if he knew your mind was off someplace else, the beach brings you both back to your rightful state of inner peace.

You type a few answers out, sounding too excited or desperate, you just delete them and start again. You can see it in your head, he’s probably biting his thumb nail in anticipation seeing the text bubble come and go, it makes you smile and bite your lip.

Yes, want me to pick you up?

He responds before you can even re-read what you said.

I’m already here…

You laugh out loud, covering you mouth knowing Tommy is already asleep in your shared bedroom right outside.

You type out a quick “of course you are, be there soon” before fully starting to dry yourself off. Rafe loves your message, signaling that he saw it.

Quietly entering your bedroom you pick out the easiest things to put on, settling on a crew neck, loose shorts and your birkenstocks.

Somehow you managed to leave your house unscathed but this isn’t the first time you’ve snuck out to meet Rafe and it won’t be the last.

The hidden path that you and Rafe found years ago comes into view, it leads right out to a hidden cove, making it feel like a secret that only you and him know, shutting out the rest of the island.

You take off your sandals and feel the sand enveloping your feet, you can smell his cigarettes and see him scratching the top of his buzzed head.

“Hi sweetheart.” He didn’t need to turn around to know you were there, he could just feel the air getting light around him, or at least he saw it that way.

You walk over and sit down matching his position with knees up to your chest, bumping elbows in the process. “Hi Rafe, what’s going on?” you ask in a hushed tone as if there’s multiple people around.

He looks at you now, taking in your natural hair flowing down to your back and a far out look in your eyes. His chest squeezes at how beautiful you look without even trying. “Shouldn’t I be asking you, Ms. Y/L/N, or should I say soon to be Mrs. Randolph?”

You chuckle with your tongue touching the inside of your cheek, “I don’t want to talk about it or him. Especially here, this is my safe space, our space so just let’s not, please”. You look at him with pleading eyes, he nods with understanding eyes as he blows smoke from the side of his mouth.

You sit in a comfortable silence for 10 minutes, enjoying each other’s company and listening to the sounds of the waves crashing up the sand, with every pull of the current washing away your stress.

Rafe breaks it by flicking his cigarette, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, “You don’t have to, you know that right? It’s obvious you don’t fucking want to so just don-“ You shake your head and let out an unstable sigh.

“It’s tomorrow, Rafe. I can’t just call it all off, it’s too late, I have relatives from all over the country flying in, his family spent so much money I can’t just-“

“Fuck his family and fuck your relatives, respectfully. Do you think your grandparents o-or your aunts and uncles would support this knowing what’s going on in your head and heart? Cause I certainly don’t.”

“It’s not that simple. It doesn’t matter and our families, my mother would be disappointed and his dad would probably have me sent to a fucking asylum saying I went crazy or something” Your cheeks get increasingly hot with anger, so frustrated with your situation.

“Who fucking cares, Y/N/N? This isn’t something small like missing a dinner party or calling in sick to work, this is your future a-and the rest of your life if you don’t make a decision, seriously sweetheart it’s ridiculous.”

The nickname makes your stomach drop in ways Tommy never could. Rafe’s passion and way of words always leaves you feeling giddy.

You bite down on your lip, hard, to stop the fleeting tears building in your eyes and looking away from him to avoid them falling even quicker. He takes his calloused palm and places it on your cheek to turn your face towards his. “You aren’t happy, you know you’re not, I know you’re not and it’s killing me” He punctuates his words, shaking your face a little bit as if to really drill his feelings into your brain.

You look up at him with wet and tired eyes, knowing no matter how much he’s right, there’s just no way to fix this. You bring your hand up to meet his own on your cheek, intertwining your fingers.

“I appreciate your passion Rafe, I really do and I wish I could go back and say no but it’s just- there’s no use. It’s done and I fucked up and that’s on me.” You stare into his eyes, competing with the ocean in front of you.

His eyebrows furrow as if he’s in pain, he licks his lips and scoffs, hand and eyes leaving your face, making you feel cold.

It’s silent again, the air growing thick with tension until he breaks it, again.

“Let’s run away, yeah let’s do it.” He shakes his head in approval like he’s just solved the mystery, “I can buy us ferry tickets and we’ll never come back here again.”

It’s your turn to scoff and shake your head, “Now that’s ridiculous, seriously, Rafe? This isn’t some fairytale, we can’t just fly away to Neverland.”

“Why not, Y/N? You’ve always talked about wanting to live in Massachusetts. I’ll buy us a house on Martha’s Vineyard, we can have our own beach and 2 dogs an-“

You stand up in a fit of rage, sand flying everywhere from the abrupt reaction. “Wake up, Rafe! I’m getting married tomorrow. It’s happening and there’s nothing you or I can do to fix that.” You cross your arms before rolling your eyes and stomping away.

Rafe is quick to match your pace and grabs your forearm, flipping you around so your chests are touching and faces inches apart. “You’re the only one that can fix this. It seems like I want this wedding called off more than you do.” You’re both panting, from proximity and the situation but you’re convinced it’s just because of the heated back and forth.

“Rafe please, you need to let this go, for me please.”

“I can’t just let this go Y/N/N. You’re marrying a piece of shit who doesn’t make you happy and I know you don’t love him, tell me you don’t” His desperate eyes leaving aches in your heart.

He places both of his hands lightly on your neck but due to Tommy and his previous anger, you wince in pain from the bruises. Rafe notices, of course he does and you see it register in his eyes, pupils dilated turning from passion to pure exasperation.

He swallows heavily, his adams apple bobbing up and down. “Y/N. I’m gonna ask you something and you better tell me the fucking truth. Did he do that? Who did this to you?”

You grab onto his forearms and bore your eyes into his. “Please” you beg, knowing exactly how this is gonna go. He shakes his head, breathing in and out of his nose, bending down slightly to inspect the marks, moving your neck around slowly to examine.

“Baby. I can see where he placed his hands and pressed, so hard that you bruised?” His voice begins to crack, so devastated that anyone could ever imagine putting their hands on your beautiful face.

Tears have started shedding down your face, reaching yours and his conjoined hands. “Rafe. I-“ He lets go of your neck and starts trudging through the sand back towards the path. Your eyes widen and you run after him.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him, wring his neck out so he knows how it feels.” You shake your head and catch up to him, stepping infront of his chest and placing your hands there.

“I’m begging you, Rafe. I’m okay, see I’m perfectly fine. Please don’t do this.” You’re patting his chest now, doing anything to relax him.

He looks down at you, eyes going from rage to sadness when your face comes into view. He lets out a whine and pulls your head into his chest. “You’re somethin’ else. Your soon-to-be husband puts his hands on you and you’re still gonna go through with it? So stubborn, always have been”

You laugh through your tears at how messed up it is. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lean into his touch, rubbing your hand through his buzzed hair at the base of his neck.

“Rafe?” you remove your head from his chest and look up at him which causes him to look down at you as well, he hums in response, eager to hear what you have to say.

“I understand if you say no but, um you being there tomorrow would really help ease my nerves.” You wince, knowing how absurd the question is but it’s true, you need him there to be able to function.

“I cave on a lot of things for you but seeing the girl I’m in love with get married to someone who doesn’t deserve even a glance from you, is where I draw the line”

You widen your eyes and gawk at his confession, neither of you have ever mentioned the feelings that linger between the both of you, a love confession for the ages is the last thing you expected.

“Rafe, W-“ you shake your head, at a loss for words and mind blank.

He kisses his teeth and smiles out of vain. “I just can’t bring myself to witness everything I’ve ever wanted happen to another man”.

A heartbroken sigh leaves your lips, “Rafe, please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He shrugs smugly, weight lifted off his shoulders at the overdue confession.

“Sorry, sweetheart but it’s true. I just can’t bear it”

You take a deep breath, wiping the stray tears that have fallen off your face. But then something happens, it takes over you, the urge. Fuck it, you place your hands on his cheeks and dive into his lips, standing on your tip toes for leverage.

You both don’t move for a second, not sure what to do, just the feeling of each other’s lips together being overwhelming enough.

Rafe mentally curses himself for not acting faster but as soon as he comes back down to Earth, one hand flys to your face and the other to your back. You use his arm behind you for support as you lean into it causing him to lean down as the kiss intensifies.

Minutes spent like this, expressing every emotion your both feeling into the kiss, breaking away only to catch each other’s breath before diving right back in.

It lasts a few minutes longer before you pull away, leaning your forehead on his, nose’s bumping. Swallowing, you begin “Rafe, I lov-“. He shakes his head and gives you a fleeting peck, “Please don’t.”

“But Rafe I-“ He nods.

“I know, sweetheart. I know, but if you say it I’m really taking you to Massachusetts and you won’t have a choice.”

He’s trying to be funny but you don’t laugh, devastated that he’s in so much agony and you caused all of it.

“What are we gonna do?” you plead.

“You made up your mind and I can’t change that, but if you ever do, just know I’m waiting and I’ll wait as long as it takes.” He steps away then, removing his hands and tucking a strand of hair that fell behind your ear.

“I’m sorry, Rafe. I’m so sorry.” You begin to sob now, guilty and just so angry that this is what has happened.

“I know, me too but please don’t cry, Y/N it breaks my heart.” You hug him again, tightly wrapping your arms around his torso.

“It’s getting late and you have a big day tomorrow. Let’s get you home, baby.”

“You’re just tormenting me now.” He laughs, his bright smile on display. “Maybe”, you slap his chest, “You’re an asshole”, which causes you both to laugh now.

He holds you steady by the waist while you put your shoes back on, when you’re done you place your arm around his waist, copying him.

Placing a kiss on your head he leads the way back through the path in the direction of his truck. Silent and reflecting you both have a certain sadness surrounding each other, not knowing how your relationship will change and if you’ll ever see him again but yet there’s a hint of relief and comfort knowing all the built up tension, smitten and blushed cheeks over the years have finally been brought to light.

Looking at your reflection, you don’t recognize yourself. A melancholy, pathetic version of you stares back. With a full face of makeup to cover up hand marks and eye bags from lack of sleep last night, an up-do topped with a vail and a fake smile, you have never seen yourself so miserable, so unrecognizable.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this, Y/N. We tried but you just wouldn’t hear it.” Kie paced the bridal room back and forth, just as frustrated as you, knowing her best friend is about to marry the islands biggest piece of shit.

“Kiara, she doesn’t need to hear this right now, ok?” Sarah is behind you, placing bobby pins in places that are needed.

“I’m aware I’ve fucked up, royally. I heard it from Rafe last night and I don’t need to-“. Both girls gasp, “Rafe?”.

You shut your mouth, cursing yourself for exposing the information, sighing you begin to reluctantly tell the girls what had happened.

Sarah and Kie look at you with remorse as you recall the interaction. Sarah takes your hand and Kie begins to tear up. “This is so bad you guys, I don’t know what to do.”

Kie looks around as she says, “Well nothing, now seeing as you have to be on the altar in 10 minutes.” Sarah shoots her a glare as you begin to sob. The girls come over for a group hug, sushing you and rubbing your back.

A knock at the door interrupts your sobs, causing you all to look up at the door as you nod, signaling that Sarah can let them in.

She announces for the person to enter, it’s JJ and he’s holding flowers. “Hi, uh, Tommy asked me to give these to you”. You take one look at the flowers and begin to sob again, “I don’t even like roses and h-he knows that”. With your head in your hands you just want to bury yourself in the hole you dug.

JJ is standing there white as a ghost, looking to Kiara for some support to which she brushes him off. “What did I do?” He confesses.

You look up slowly, sighing and fanning your face. “It’s not your fault JJ. I just hate my soon to be husband, he doesn’t understand me, never has.”

“Wait, what. You’re literally about to marry him in..” JJ stops to look at his watch, “7 minutes”.

You look around to the girls, feeling a panic attack coming on. “Fuck.”

Kie updates JJ on the “Y/N and Tommy lore” as Sarah rubs your back and makes you count and breathe. In the back you can hear JJ gasping and audibly reacting to Kie catching him all up.

When she’s done, JJ comes over to you and gives you a hug from behind. “As much as I don’t like Rafe, sorry Sarah, I really, really don’t like Tommy.” You look at JJ through the mirror and solemnly nod your head to agree.

“He just told me that when Tommy was handing him the flowers, he tipped him a $20 and thought he was a bartender.”

JJ scoffs, “I told him I was sitting in the row literally right behind your families and he just laughed, so yeah I fucking hate him too.” You realize that not only has Tommy tormented your life but all of your friends who you love so much.

“I’m so sorry guys, I’m so sorry you have to be here and I’m so sorry that I didn’t stand up for myself way back when our families arranged this but I just have to deal with it, just have to deal.”

They all nodded and the girls fixed your makeup, getting you ready to meet your wicked mother at the double doors, which led to the guest filled lawn of people who are unknowingly supporting your nightmare.

JJ gave you one last hug and words of encouragement before going to take his seat on the golf green. Sarah and Kie all gave you tight hugs and kisses on the cheek before leading you out of the room. Your mother waited at the end of the country club, beaming with pride and showering you with compliments as your manicured nails dug into your palms.

“Honey, your eye bags look terrible, I’m gonna go ask the makeup lady if she can add some more concealer or something-“ You huffed and slapped her hand away.

“I’m fine, Mom. Please, I just want to get out there.”

She changes her shocked expression of you swatting her hand away to instant radiation of happiness. “Oh, you’re so excited to just be married already, aren’t you?”.

You try your best to make your fake smile believable as she places both hands on your cheeks and nods in approval.

You take the biggest breath as the violins begin to play the bridal entrance, the guests all stand turning their attention towards you and the doors open. This is it, your mother grips your arm and begins to walk you down the flower petal covered isle.

All eyes on you, can they tell how close to breaking down you are? Some people are wiping their eyes with tissues, some stare at you like you’re the prophecy and all you can do is look around, where’s Rafe?

Hands shaking as you see Tommy at the alter, so smug falsely wiping his nose and eyes to put on a show for the Figure Eight mothers, who mourn for their daughters that never got the chance to have his last name.

Before stepping up to meet him, you make quick pleading eye contact with Sarah, she knows exactly what you’re thinking and she shakes her head solemnly and mouths a quiet “no”. He’s not here and you knew he wouldn’t be, in the back of your sick mind you had hope that he’d maybe show up just to be your support but he’s nowhere to be seen, not even lurking a few feet behind the whole ceremony.

Your mother turns to face you, before giving you off to Tommy she places a quick kiss on your cheek then slides her mouth up to your ear, “Don’t embarrass me” she snaps in a sharp whisper.

You pull back with wide eyes but she doesn’t give you time to react before she’s giving you a small shove to meet Tommy’s outstretched hand to guide you up.

In your mind, you hoped you’d be here one day, surrounded by your loved ones on a beautiful North Carolina day to celebrate the marriage of you and your husband. Except the man in front of you would be about 4 inches taller, brown eyes traded for blue and a dimple engraved in his cheek as his bright smile makes your head spin.

Rafe. Rafe. Rafe. Even before you ever realized it, swirled into all of your poems he’s always been the man in your dreams, all your manifestations come to life, everything and all you’ve ever wanted.

Tommy begins declaring that he will love and cherish you through sickness and in health. Looking at you so cynically, you can see everything in his eyes. He’s got you trapped now and there’s nothing you can do.

Now, it’s your turn. With a deep breath and slight pause you begin. “I, Y/N, promise Tommy” Rafe “to love him” Rafe “through sickness and in health” Rafe. It all comes out in a whimper but only you seem to notice.

Tommy turns to the officiant, eager to hear him give the speech that seals this whole thing. “Do you, Tommy Randolph, take Y/N Y/L/N, to be your wife?”

“I do.”

Your heart is racing, feeling as though your whole world is about to come crashing down on you. Rafe, you can see him in your head, handsome face and charming smile, you think back to your encounter last night, promises of fleeing the island and a white picket, blue shuddered house far away from here is all you can focus on, it’s all waiting for you and so is he.

“He’s waiting for me.” the sentence leaves your mouth before you can even help it. Tommy looks up from the ring he’s about to place on your finger. “What?”.

You slightly step back from his body, moving your arm away from the gold 20 carat diamond about to bind you to 40+ years of hell. The officiant doesn’t seem to notice as he asks you the same question he just repeated to the man standing across from you, now looking flustered.

“Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Tommy Randolph to be your husband?”

You look back and forth between Tommy and the officiant, beginning to shake your head. “I- I don’t.”

The ceremony comes to a hushed stop, the wind blowing from the coast can be the only thing heard. “I don’t, and I can’t and I won’t.” The guests look around in awe, not sure of what to do or say.

Your mother and Tommy’s father stand up quickly, both seething with anger, overlapping each other with protests of this “erroneous behavior”. You look at Tommy and begin to smile at his expression, face red with embarrassment and loathe.

“I just can’t.” You begin to look around at all the guests before turning to your right, looking at the faces of your 9 bridesmaids, 2 whom aren’t even trying to hide their shit eating grins. Kiara nods frantically, giving you the ok and Sarah begins to giggle.

With all the approval you need, you take your gown in your hands and begin to flee down the steps. Tommy grips your arm before you can get far and whips you around to face him, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Y/N. Do you have any idea what this is gonna cause?” He seethes in your face, teeth clenched together and progressively pressing harder into your skin.

You use all your force and rip yourself away from his grip while walking backwards down the steps. “I’m getting the fuck out of here and far away from you.” Guests are gasping as your mother and Tommy are screaming at you to “get back here” all while Sarah and Kie are giving each other a subtle fist pump.

All you can hear as your running is the sound of your heartbeat and what sounds like JJ, John B and Pope whistling and clapping in approval. “Go get your man, Y/N!”

It all turns into forgotten noise when you finally exit the Island Club and soon all your thoughts are consumed by him. Summers taking cover, splintered back in winters and silent, bitter dinners are all over now. You’re at the starting line, fresh out of the slammer and you did your time.

Breaking out into a sprint, your bridal heels are digging into your feet and your train is tattered, none of it matters when you start the familiar path to Tannyhill. The promise of Rafe at home is the one thing keeping you from collapsing in the Carolina heat with all your extra layers on.

You weren’t much of a runner but 10 minutes doesn’t seem too far when it leads to forever. You can’t help but break into a fit of laughter at the pure chaos of it all, some people passing by in cars honking at you but you just throw your hand up in a fleeting wave.

Rafe is on the second story deck when he sees you stop at the entrance gates, put the passcode in and push through when they open. He squints his eyes in disbelief, knowing this has to be some figment of his imagination, not until he hears you yell his name.

He rushes through his bedroom, down the hallway, stairs and to the front door. Swinging it open not bothering to shut it, he runs out to greet you. You’re both laughing hysterically in disbelief at the sights in front of you.

When you finally reach his grasp, you jump up and he catches you, gripping his hands against your back and thigh. “What did you do?” He exclaims, both out of breath from the adrenaline and running.

You pull back from the embrace and confess it all. “I love you, not him, never him. I- I just couldn’t fathom doing it, not when all I kept thinking about was you standing there at the alter and our house on the Vineyard and dogs and just everything, with you. I want to do everything with you for the rest of my life.”

Rafe eyes become misty and he just nods. “It’s me and you, Y/N. It always has been, I just- wow- you’ve got some nerve running away from your own wedding.” He places a harsh kiss on your forehead and settles you down on the ground but never letting go of your back.

“Are you complaining?” He shakes his head viscerally.“Fuck, no.”

He grabs your face and puts his lips against yours, smiling through the intense kiss you both can’t help but giggle into each other. Pulling away, you both just stare into each other’s eyes, nothing but immense adoration and love.

“How did everyone take it?” He asked still beaming.

You start laughing, throwing your head back “Oh my god, you should’ve seen their faces.” You begin to recount the reactions of Tommy, your mother and his father which makes Rafe smugly hum in approval.

“As much as I wish I could’ve seen that, this is..” You look at him in anticipation.

“This is everything I was hoping would happen.” You laugh at his wishful thinking of this whole wedding becoming a disaster.

“I just couldn’t do it, Rafe. This is my place, right here with you and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” Rafe nods and places another kiss to your head.

“You’re here now, with me, and that’s all that matters. I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” You smile and lean in to give him another kiss.

Rafe hums and pulls away. “Now, as much as I enjoy seeing you in a wedding dress, let’s get you into something more comfortable, my bed, maybe?” You laugh and take his hand, guiding him up the front steps of Tannyhill.

“How about you pour us two glasses of celebratory wine and I’ll pull up my “dream home” Pinterest board, just so we can start to brainstorm or something” you shrug coyly, fearing your enthusiasm and excitement got the best of you.

Rafe brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth and places a kiss on your knuckles. “You and your beautiful mind. That sounds perfect to me, sweetheart.”

You enter the doors together, shutting the rest of the world out, just you and him. No way either of you are gonna screw up knowing what’s at stake. Years of labor, locks and ceilings all mean nothing when you look at him, the man of your dreams now escorting you into his room with nothing but you on his mind, even back then, even now and forever.

——————————————

“Now, pretty baby, I’m running back home to you. Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to”

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Someone turns up on Sanemi's doorstep after the final war - that someone being a part of Genya's life Sanemi regrets never knowing. A/N: NGL I lost a lot of respect for Sanemi after he tried to poke Genya's eyes out but I do feel really bad for him after the final battle with Muzan because what is he going to live for now? What's he going to do? Fall into depression, probably, and that just made me sad so here we are to be sad together. You don't have a choice. WARNINGS: Genya x GN Reader but mainly Platonic!Sanemi x Reader

Seeing as nearly everyone he had known was dead after the final war, the hesitant knocking at his door startled the wits out of one former Wind Hashira.

He probably shouldn’t have stayed up late last night drinking and wasting everything away because he could barely see straight stumbling towards the doors, cursing the early dawn, the furniture he stubbed his toe on and the pounding in his head, but nothing numbed the dull grief and pain better than being blackout drunk and coma-like sleep. At least Sanemi wasn’t seeing double like last time.

Although he was wondering if he was hallucinating shit, because ain’t no freaking way there was someone showing up at his doorstep at 6 in the morning asking if he was Shinazugawa and if he could please, if he didn’t mind, help them find someone?

“Yeah…what?”

They repeat their question, tugging nervously at their sleeves, hopeful underneath all that anxiety. “Are you Shinazugawa Sanemi? Genya told me to go find you if…”

“He’s-”

His first reaction, out of force of habit, was to deny that he had any brother, but the words glued themselves to the sides of his throat and would only spill out in the form of ugly sobbing. His second reaction was pretty much equally brutal: tell them that his brother had long died, sliced in half by the late Upper Moon One, all because he had failed in every duty possible, as a brother, as a slayer, as a human. But Sanemi, undeniably, had mellowed out and if he had to crack that porcelain-frail look of desperate hope in their eyes he too would shatter in his precarious mental state.

So he settled for delaying the inevitable. “If what? You a slayer?”

“No,” they say, shaking their head. “I…he was my, um…”

Oh.

No.

Please no.

“Your boyfriend,” he barks out bluntly, but tries to tone down and soften his expression when they wince, flustered. “That’s…”

Unexpected. He could still remember a time when Genya either beat down everyone and not gave a rat’s ass about it or when he would explode into a ripe tomato if someone good looking so much as said hello to him. Or maybe sweet. Sanemi’s always wanted him to have a normal life, go get married, have a family, live peacefully to a ripe old age while he did the bloody work of slaying. At least he got a taste of it. Most of all…sad, really. Sad that he pushed his younger brother away so much he never even know he’d fallen in love, someone new had entered his life, he’s gotten over his emotional constipation somewhat. Sad that he never got to spend the rest of his life with them like Sanemi had no doubt he had promised. Sad that they had never known, all this while, that Genya would never stagger home to them.

It seemed like this conversation would be one of trailed-off sentences.

They nod. “Yes…”

“Huh. Can see why he liked you,” Sanemi says off-handedly, but remembers he never actually knew what his brother’s type was. Funny how he only realized it was stupid of him to keep trying to cut off ties with his only brother after he died. But they are cute in their mannerisms, the air that just made you want to protect them forever, wrapped in innocence. No wonder Genya fell in love.

“Liked?” Their expression falls, but it’s still hopeful.

Sanemi can’t think what’s worse, for her to have the only option of thinking that Genya has moved on, fallen for someone else, left them behind because the other option is too terrible to contemplate. It’s the truth, however.

“Liked,” he repeats, and he can feel his mind just wanting to succumb to the hopeless pain. Sanemi digs his nails into his palm and bites the insides of his cheeks instead.

“I think I should start from the beginning.”

“Come on in, then.”

He waits until they're further into the room before he releases a breath, slumps his shoulders and stares at the sky to mouth his apologies to his brother for not giving him enough time to spend with them, to the gods for leading them on for so long, to someone, anyone, who would spare a sinner like him some forgiveness as he prepared to cry all over again about Genya.

***

“And then he told me if he isn’t at Himejima’s Estate, go find his older brother who’s probably living alone somewhere, scaring everyone away with his temper and dog.”

They laugh, clear as bells, at the memory, hiding their smile behind the steaming cup of tea, but it’s broken, like their fake grins and the mug in their hands. Sanemi wants to laugh too (is this how you really saw me, Genya, after all I did to you?), but he might actually start the waterworks. Sanemi was already halfway there, listening to his brother’s secret romance and everything he missed out because of his own foolishness.

“He said he hoped he’d finally be there with you, or if he wasn’t, you’d tell me where he went.”

I could tell you where he went, Sanemi agreed, because I saw him. When I was dying. And he was dead.

They fidgets, tugging at their clothes again. “I waited a really long time for a letter. He said he’d send me one if he could after the…after the fight, but it was so long. I checked up on Himejima’s Estate all the time, but he was never there. Nobody was. I asked around; they told me the owner had died and - and -”

“I know.” If he was a better person Sanemi would probably be reaching out to put a hand on their shoulder, assure them. If he were a better brother Genya would be alive and drinking tea with them. But he was none of those and so all he could do was awkwardly say two words. “Go on.”

“I didn’t know to look after that.” They wipe at their face, setting down the cup. “Genya said you had white hair and was covered in scars, and well, there aren’t that many of those sort of people around, but even then it took me forever to find you. I tried tracking down Muichiro, but I couldn’t either.”

Tokito. Another failure. Sanemi turned away slightly.

“Then I finally found Tanjiro last week. He’d been trying to find me as well, but heh, since I kept traveling it made it hard.” They shrug. “He told me where to find you, so here I am. Sorry for intruding…but it’s a little late for that.”

They glance around, clinging onto the belief. “Is he - is he here? Can I see him?”

“Yeah,” Sanemi whispers hoarsely. “I’ll take you to him.”

Not before he winds up sobbing himself dry on their shoulder, pathetically trying to assure them as well as tears streamed down both their faces.

***

There was no body but Sanemi had carved out a tombstone for him anyway.

It was under a tree, scattered with leaves, wilting flowers and weeds watered by his grief. Sometimes when Sanemi’s more sober and when he can light a candle without burning anything else he’ll leave some there, so waxy stubs are left over. That Kamado kid and his friends came down sometimes and left behind their mementos as well. Unlike his own home, Sanemi did his best to keep it clean.

He left to give them some privacy, walking a little further away, but even so the wind carried their words over and Sanemi couldn’t pretend he couldn’t hear them raging against fate, death, Genya.

“Why?”

“Why you?”

“Why would you do this to me?”

You and me both, kid, Sanemi thinks.

“You said you’d come back! You said you’d take me to see your aniki! We were going to - there was so much we haven’t - what am I supposed to do now, Genya? You were supposed to be here with Sanemi-san as well, not just me!”

He’s always been too caught up with himself. Damn, blind to what Genya really wanted to the end, Sanemi thinks wryly.

For a moment there seems to be someone else beside him. He turns and for a moment he sees someone’s shadow on the ground, someone smiling, someone asking. Someone who didn’t want him to go squandering his life on regrets; a favor, the silhouette seemed to say, so will you do it for me?

The answer was always yes - Sanemi blinks, and it’s gone, so he hurries back to the grave.

They're dragged out of their misery by a heavy hand, rough but gentle. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be.” They hiccup and drag a hand across their face. “I'm sorry. Sorry for…I wish you both had gotten a chance…”

Sanemi laughed, voice scratchy. “That was my own fault.”

“You know what I mean.” They managed to roll their eyes.

“Where you going now?”

“I'm…not sure. I don't know. Back to my hometown, maybe, but there's not really anyone there.”

Anyone to go back to, they meant.

“Tch.” He began to stomp back to the house, gesturing for them to follow. Sanemi pauses at the doorway, frowning, and turns back. “You planning to sit there all day? You can stay if you like, I don't like the idea of you walking around alone and defenceless.”

“Stay - what?”

“Stay,” Sanemi agrees, exasperation in his tone at their stunned, slow reaction. “And you're having ohagi for breakfast whether you like it or not.”

***

Days fly past.

Mostly they’re spent in mourning together. Privately Sanemi preferred this to the funeral they had held with what was left of the Corps, because it feels more…closer. Similar. Here were two people that were a part of a big chunk of Genya’s life and yet never knew the other part.

They sat at the grave a lot and just…nothing. There were no tears or comfort. Just silence, never knowing what to do because you’ve been living for someone who’s now dead so you could live, but what are YOU living for? Sanemi wished time and time again he’d be the one to bite it. Not like anyone much would miss him, and maybe all those times he’d been hurting his brother was so Genya could move on in the event he died, very much unlike him right now.

On the third day they finally made conversation.

“So…” Sanemi cleared his throat. “How’d you both meet, since, y’know, he’s a slayer?”

They squint at the dirt, absently pulling up blades of grass. “I didn’t actually know he was one until a lot later, but even then he didn’t tell me much.” They tilted up their head. “He never wanted to expose that part of his life to me. I thought he was just another traveler when we first met; I offered him a room in my house.”

“House? Will you go back there?” Suddenly Sanemi is seized with panic - if they, his one and only link to Genya now, went back, and he ended up alone again…

“It’s not really my house. It’s more like…my employer’s house at that time…”

“Ah. So you’ve got nowhere to go for now?”

“Mhm. When I got fired I stayed over at Himejima’s occasionally. Then Genya sent me away before…yeah, before all that.” They blink and their eyes glisten. “What was he like, as a slayer? I knew he was different or something, because Tanjiro and his friends used a sword and some technique he couldn’t master, so the gun and all.”

Unbeknownst to everyone Sanemi had been watching his little brother train all those years ago. It’d be the first time he exposed himself. “He was really hard-working. Threw in everything he had to try and learn Breathing Techniques but he just couldn’t master it, and I think it took a big toll on Genya. I didn’t help much.”

“It’s alright. He forgives you.”

“Present tense?”

“Would he have told me to go look for you if he hadn’t?”

There. The real reason Sanemi would lose it if they left. He needed someone, something, anything to prove all the accusing, guilty voices in his head that Genya hadn’t died hating him.

“Tch. Fair enough. Tell me about his life outside the Corps now.”

***

Weeks go by.

Having them around, Sanemi discovers, is a stark reminder of what had happened to Genya, yet not in a bad way. Sanemi started forcing himself to bathe more frequently, take care of himself better - don’t want them having to put up with my stench - not just doing the bare minimum for his dog. He’d been alone and heartbroken for so long he’s honestly stopped functioning like a normal person, forgotten what Genya had died for.

Now he had to go out and buy food more consistently because he wasn’t the only one around anymore. Sanemi had to get around to repairing all those things that had fallen to ruins at the Wind Estate. Grudgingly he even agreed to let them take over cooking meals in order to get more than just ohagi in his diet.

But he only really noticed the differences when one morning Sanemi staggered into the kitchen looking for a drink after another round of restless nightmares and instead stumbled onto them dumping the contents of the sake bottle he left out down the drain.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sanemi made a grab for it but they ducked out of reach, flinching at the sudden yell.

“Getting rid of this. You’ve been drinking a lot lately.”

“For a damn reason!”

“What reason?”

Because every day is painful and I just want it all to go away, isn’t it obvious? Sanemi dug his nails into his palm again, muttering obscenities.

“I thought you of all people should know better than to cope like this.”

“I-”

He should. He remembered the former Flame Hashira before Rengoku. He recalled Kyogo.

Sanemi had always feared he would turn out like his father and here he was proving everyone right. Genya wouldn’t have wanted that…god, what was wrong with him?

“You’re right.”

They watched uneasily as Sanemi stalked off, but they had nothing to worry about. Sanemi threw out the rest of the bottles that day and apologized to the grave.

“Bet he’s pretty mad I turned out like this after all he fought for.” A scarred hand gestures listlessly at the headstone, the other holding a cup. The both of them sat in evening silence, watching the wind flitter around from the engawa. Remaining rain droplets trickle down from the roof.

“Genya?’ They set down their cup and ponder. “Not really. He could never get mad at you.”

Sanemi snorts. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Ah, he should’ve.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m here.” They flash him a smile. In truth they could’ve been his sibling regardless - sibling-in-law, but he’d settle for surrogate now.

Sanemi rolls his eyes but likes the idea more than he admits, of Genya watching over him even now…because it has to mean he’s forgiven him, right, for everything he did wrong? “What was he like?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know.” Sanemi draws random blobs in the air, vague shapes of hearts. “When you both were-”

“SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you make out? At least once. You had to.”

They’re mortified and got up several times to leave but not before Sanemi’s heard everything he missed out: yes, they’d gotten to the kissing stage but no, they did not make out, why was he so vulgar, yes, Genya often had a panic attack every time they held hands, yes, they could show him all the dried flowers Genya had gifted them, stop laughing at their confession story, you’re right, Genya was horribly obvious with his blushy crush phase and NO, Shinazugawa, Genya would self combust before they ever got to the topic of marriage or starting a family!

***

Years pass.

Sanemi’s gotten married. Four mini-mes running around as well, a fifth on the way. He likes to think of it as a parallel between him and his own siblings, because his oldest is the only to inherit his shock of white hair and the second bears a striking resemblance to Genya. They think so too, written clearly on their faces every time they look at him.

Speaking of them, they hadn’t left all this while and Sanemi doesn’t want them to. Not when they’ve been there to pull him out of his depressive state, united in grief, see him fall in love with a local girl, urge him to court her despite his anxious worries, stood next to him when he was getting hitched, supported him throughout fatherhood and babysat the four hurricanes when he and his wife went out on date nights.

It’d be just as bad as losing Genya.

“You better be good for them, or I’ll string you all up by your feet.” Despite Sanemi’s threatening words he’s unusually gentle as he peels his two youngest from his legs as they cling on and whine at him and mom not to go out without them, they wanted to go see the fireworks too, can’t they stay up late this one time?

“Don’t worry, they’re all angels.” They help remove the other two older ones from their mom, rolling their eyes. “And before you say anything, yes, I’ll get them all to bed before ten.”

“Sometimes I think Sanemi nags more than I do,” his beloved jokes, taking his arm and the both of them leave, calling out to the protesting kids as they’re hauled off inside and the door closes. He’s lucky, he thinks, tucking his wife closer, that even after all this he managed to be happy. He can almost see Genya in front of him, smiling and telling Aniki not to get too naughty, not abandon them for so long to try and control four rowdy kids.

Sanemi wishes the same could be said of them, though.

When he comes back, tells his wife he’ll be back into the bedroom soon, checks on his kids and realizes they’ve disappeared again, Sanemi knows just where to look, quickly making his way to the grave, carrying a lantern and something else.

“You really have to stop coming here in the middle of the night. There’s no more demons, but ya think you’ll be safe?” Sanemi huffs, taking his seat next to them. They snort derisively. “I’m serious! What if you get mauled by some wild animal? Who am I gonna dump the kids on if you’re not here?”

“Tomioka’s around. Kamado too,” they sing-song.

“Tomioka would give my kids depression and maybe I’d trust Kamado but not his friends.”

“You give ME depression.”

“Haha, very funny.” Sanemi passes the slice of watermelon to them, taking a bite of his own. Genya’s headstone looks chipped in the yellow light, worn and old, but still lovingly cared for. “I think he might want you to move on, you know? It’s been years. He’ll understand. He’ll want you to be happy. You can’t keep waiting around, crying and wasting time.”

“You’re stealing my words.”

“Hey, it worked back then, when you told that to me. You’re a hypocrite. Use your own advice.”

“I tried. It didn’t work out. I kept coming back here.” A finger traces the stone, uncertainty in their tone.

“You feel guilty, like you’re being unfaithful to him or something?” Sanemi passes them another slice, awkwardly trying to sympathize. He wants them to be happy as well, after all.

“No, it’s just…” They shrug, head shaking from side to side. “I dunno. I can’t. Not like you did.”

Sanemi understands, suddenlyl, sort of. They gave him their heart and maybe it wasn’t theirs to take back yet. It didn’t really make sense and wasn’t enough of a reason to argue against moving on, but feelings were weird and rarely made enough reason.

“No one’s going to be like him, huh.”

“No. No one,” They agreed, and they both lapsed into silence.

“I mean, the guy we met yesterday looked like a great match-”

“Have fun taking your kids on your next date, Shinazugawa.”

“I was kidding!”

They wipe their mouth and set down their watermelon rind before, a ghost of smile tugging at their lips. “You and Genya really are the same, you know.”

“How?’ Years later and he’s still learning new things he should’ve known during all those years he wasted thinking it was a good idea to push him away. Ah well.

“Um…I guess in the way you both really suck at trying to talk about feelings.”

“You wound me.”

“You’re a former Hashira. But you both try to understand and make me feel better anyway.” They smirk. “In the form of bad jokes, usually.”

“I’m hurt.” Sanemi got the point, mouth twitching.

“So, yeah. You both don’t really know how to do it but you do your best. That’s good enough.”

Sanemi caught their eye. “…good enough for me, at least.” He stood up and picked up the rinds, returning back to his tough boy exterior. “Enough mushy stuff. Go back to bed.”

“Yessir.”

***

“You and Genya really are the same, Sanemi.”

They lean their forehead against the cool, rough headstone. The new one. It was new and clear but now it was wet with tears. “It’s gonna be hard…why did you both have to go?”

Five years later. Sanemi’s slayer mark had finally caught up with him, but not before he had gotten the chance to settle down and leave behind some kids, have another chance at enjoying life, find a new sibling. Still, no one had expected him to just…not wake up one day. It seemed a little too quiet of an ending for the tale of Shinazugawa.

“Where was all your talk about going down in a blaze of glory to the kids last night, huh?” They coughed out a laugh. “I know you must be really pissed to just die like that.”

They’ve been holding it together the past few days, for the sake of Sanemi’s children and his widow. Only now could they cry in quiet, in the same spot where Sanemi and them had cried over Genya. Tomioka’s widow and two kids had joined them as well. Three united in grief.

“I know you said you’re happy you got a chance at all this, Sanemi, but I can’t help feeling like you were robbed of having the full experience in all this. Like Genya all over again. When you see him, tell him I miss him a lot, okay? Still very much head over heels and making an absolute fool of myself…”

They laid down their bouquet, taking a breath. “You also said you were afraid Naomi, Hiroshi and Remi won’t remember you if you die so early in their childhood…it’s alright. I don’t think anyone will forget you. Least of all me. Thanks for everything.”

“I hope you and Genya finally see each other again.”

It wasn’t seen or heard, but rather, felt - a lover’s arm wrapped around their shoulders and a brotherly hand on the other.

[khruschevshoe]

You know what? I'm gonna say it. As someone who is asexual and on the aromantic spectrum myself, I'm a bit tired of the Doctor Who fans who all say that Donna is the best companion of Ten's just because they were best friends and nothing more and that automatically makes her the best companion of RTD and for a lot of you, the best companion overall.

Listen, I LOVE Donna. Adore her. And I also think that her friendship with the Doctor is amazing. But it has always rubbed me the wrong way that the companions who have a romantic interest in the Doctor (and let me tell you, there is textual evidence for every one of them that the feelings were reciprocated in some way) are somehow considered lesser BECAUSE of that interest. That just because they fell for the Doctor means that their relationship with the Doctor is cheapened in some way.

I personally think that just as platonic relationships should not be considered lesser than romantic ones, the same goes in reverse. Amy, Clara, Martha, Rose, River, and Yaz's feelings may have some weak writing decisions attached to them, but so does Donna.

Personally, I love Donna's character arc/the tragedy of her ending, but I've always felt a little disappointed by the fact that her becoming the DoctorDonna in Journey's End was not predicated on her strong characterization/choices (Ala Planet of the Ood/Fires of Pompeii) but by "fate" pushing it to happen. It's honestly more Dalek Caan than Donna making all that happen.

This is NOT to say that I don't love Donna, but just to say that the fact that she had no romantic feelings for the Doctor doesn't automatically catapult her above the rest. Romantic feelings can lead to just as interesting, well-developed character arcs/complicated dynamics as platonic ones can, from the creator/created reciprocated question mark wanting but unable to choose each other over everything dynamic of 11amy to the fascinating destroying each other saving each other one taking all of the emotional toll but honestly craving that prophet-god relationship of 10martha to the shaping each other making each other kinder and braver reminding each other there is hope dooming and saving each other of 9rose to the full dooming each other but running straight at it full tilt because we are purposefully ignoring the turn back now signs of 10rose to the batshit insane codependent reflecting each other refracting each other who is Orpheus and who is Eurydice of 12clara to the there was always someone else in the room keeping us apart but you somehow became my whole world and I knew you from birth to death and we will never be anything more than a shut door of 13yaz to the you doomed me and saved me and you hate me but you might have loved me once and i will spend the rest of my life devoted to you dynamics of 10jack 11river and 12river.

Every relationship is interesting and personal preference might steer you in a certain way due the character arcs/ending preferences/etc., but elevating one over the other because the companion wasn't "foolish" enough to fall in love with the mad genderfluid alien in a box who ran away with you and stole you away to the stars doesn't sit well with me. Romance doesn't cheapen a relationship just as it doesn't automatically make it the ultimate relationship, either.