#my asks are always open if anyone wants to know more about this btw (god this isn't even NEARLY all the notes I have)

[mapiforpresident]

could i please request: leah williamson x single mom reader ( to like a 1 year old) maybe they meet at a cafe and r and leah go on some dates and on one date r is in the middle of telling leah about her daughter “ i have something really important to tell you, i understand if you want to end whatever we have right now when you find out” when she gets a call from the babysitter that her daughter won’t stop crying and she has to go home, so she panics and says she needs to go home so leah offers to drive her and when they get there r just hops out of the car and runs inside leaving the door open so leah slowly walks in behind her and sees her and her daughter

btw i love your writing!

what we don’t say

leah x reader

warnings: daughter

~~~

You didn’t expect much from the coffee shop that day. Just caffeine. A little quiet. Maybe five whole minutes without someone wiping their nose on your shirt or throwing puffs across the floor like confetti.

You loved her. God, you loved her more than anything. But being a single mum to a one-year-old? Exhausting didn’t even begin to cover it.

So yeah, coffee. That’s all you came for.

And then Leah Williamson held the door open for you.

You barely looked up, too busy juggling your bag, your keys, and a sippy cup that somehow always leaked. But she smiled. One of those soft, knowing ones. The kind that didn’t feel performative, just kind.

You smiled back because, well. Have you seen her?

She held the door. Let you go ahead. And then, somehow, ended up behind you in line. And then beside you while you waited. And then leaning in with a little laugh to say, “Don’t worry, I always panic at the till too.”

And maybe you laughed a little too loudly. Or maybe she just liked your laugh. Either way, she asked if she could sit with you. And you said yes before your brain caught up with your mouth.

You didn’t tell her anything real that day. Not your last name. Not what your life looked like. Just that you were tired and the coffee helped and the weather had been a bit shit lately.

She didn’t ask much.

She just made you laugh. And you let yourself feel normal for twenty whole minutes.

That should’ve been it. A one-off thing. A cute story you never told anyone.

But then she showed up again.

And again.

And again.

And suddenly you were texting. Grinning like a fool when her name popped up. Going on walks that turned into lunch. Lunches that turned into ���You’re actually really easy to talk to.”

You never meant to let it get this far. You never meant to feel this much.

But she made it so easy.

By the time your third official date rolled around, you knew you had to say something.

You’d been putting it off. Convincing yourself it wasn’t the right time. That it was too soon. That she’d run. That she’d hear the word daughter and suddenly remember she left the oven on.

But she was sitting across from you in that quiet little pub, her eyes soft, her fingers brushing yours over the table like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

And you knew you had to say it.

“I have something I need to tell you,” you said, voice a little too stiff.

Her brows furrowed just slightly, but she didn’t let go of your hand.

“I don’t want to scare you off,” you added quickly. “But I also can’t keep this from you. And I get it if you want to end this once you know. I really do.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but then—

Your phone buzzed.

Loud against the wood of the table.

You glanced down. One look at the name and your stomach dropped.

It was your sitter.

You picked up immediately. “Hey, everything okay?”

The answer was no.

“She won’t stop crying,” your sitter said. “I’ve tried milk, I’ve changed her, I rocked her, everything. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Your heart was already pounding. “I’m on my way.”

You hung up without explaining. Stood up too fast. Grabbed your coat and your phone and—

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Leah stood too, her hand on your arm. “Is everything alright?”

You hesitated. “My daughter, my babysitter called, she’s inconsolable and I just, I have to go.”

You didn’t mean to say daughter like that. Like you were dropping a bomb. Like you were bracing for impact.

But you were. Because now she knew.

You didn’t even give her time to respond before you were turning to leave.

“I’ll drive you,” Leah said quickly.

You froze.

“What?”

“Let me drive you. You’re shaking. You’re not going to focus if you’re behind the wheel.”

You looked at her, really looked at her, and her face wasn’t full of judgment. Or panic. Or that polite smile people use when they’re already thinking of their exit.

She just looked worried.

She just looked like she wanted to help.

You barely spoke in the car.

Leah didn’t push. Just kept her hand steady on the wheel, glancing over every now and then to make sure you were okay. She didn’t ask about your daughter. Didn’t ask why you’d never mentioned her. Just drove, quiet and steady.

When she pulled up to your place, you barely managed to say thank you before you were already out the door.

You didn’t even shut it behind you.

Leah got out slowly, unsure if she should follow. The door was still open, and the panic in your eyes was still fresh in her mind.

So she stepped inside.

And there you were.

In the middle of your small living room, down on your knees, holding a wailing little girl to your chest. Rocking back and forth with your eyes squeezed shut and your voice whispering “shh, shh, mummy’s here, it’s okay now.”

Leah froze in the doorway.

You didn’t notice her at first. Too focused. Too overwhelmed. Too caught in that instinct that only comes when someone’s whole world is crying in your arms.

But when your daughter’s cries started to soften, when her fingers clutched the fabric of your shirt and her head tucked into your neck, you finally looked up.

And Leah was still there.

Quiet. Hesitant. But still there.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” you said softly.

Leah stepped forward, just a bit. Her eyes locked on the little girl now hiccuping against your chest. “She’s beautiful.”

You blinked. “You’re not… freaked out?”

She smiled, small and genuine. “A little surprised. Not freaked out.”

You shifted, one arm still cradling your daughter. “I was going to tell you tonight. Before the call. I just… didn’t want to scare you off.”

Leah took another step. “She’s your daughter. That’s not scary. That’s honestly kind of amazing.”

You blinked again. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said, then crouched a little so she wasn’t towering over you both. “And now I get why you always smell like baby wipes.”

You laughed, soft and surprised, and your daughter stirred a little, her sleepy eyes cracking open to look at the new person in the room.

Leah smiled at her. “Hey, sweetheart.”

And your daughter… smiled back.

Small. Wobbly. But real.

And you felt something shift in your chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Leah said quietly, eyes still on your daughter. “If you’ll let me stay.”

You swallowed hard.

And nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I think I’d like that.”

And maybe it wasn’t how you planned it.

But maybe, just maybe, it was exactly how it was meant to happen.

[cosmiclily]

hii - jst wanted to say girl Ur writing is *chef's kiss* okok so i saw requests were open and im a SUCKER for actors au arcane soooo could u write a actor vi x co star!fem reader?? could it be a lil not like enemies but at first their energies don't match, but they soon learn to like eachother. on the premiere they were seen together and get asked questions abt eachother. vi keeps her hand on co star's waist whispering in her ear. idkkk jst some fluff plsss

- btw i was the anon who asked for the domestic vi teehee 🤭

love your work, xx

play pretend

✰ vi x f!reader

wc: 6.2k

notes: (snoopy pfp twins!!!) first of all, thank you !!!!!! and also your requests are so good i always have fun writing them😭😭 second, kinda got a little too excited about the request lol

If anyone watched Complex without doing any prior research, they would undoubtedly say that you and Vi had undeniable chemistry. The tension, the longing glances, the way you played off each other—it was electric. So electric that after the movie was released, the audience wanted more and more from the two of you.

But off-screen? Things weren’t nearly as perfect.

At first, Vi had been thrilled to work with you. She had been a fan for years, and when her manager called her about the role—and, more importantly, who she’d be working with—she couldn’t say yes fast enough. She had pictured smooth sailing, late-night script reads, inside jokes, maybe even the start of a great friendship.

What she hadn’t pictured was the absolute nightmare that was your first meeting.

You were thirty minutes late to the chemistry read, walking in with a sour expression and barely sparing her a glance. No pleasantries, no introductions—you simply read your lines (flawlessly, of course), nodded at the director, and walked right back out. Vi had sat there, script still in hand, completely thrown.

Things did not get better from there.

The two of you bickered about everything. Blocking, line delivery, even what music should play between takes. It was like you had been designed to push each other’s buttons.

And then there was the first kiss rehearsal.

Vi, in all her brilliance, had eaten a tuna sandwich right before the scene.

The second you leaned in and caught the scent, you recoiled so fast you nearly toppled over. "Are you serious?!" you had shouted, fanning your face as if that would somehow make the stench disappear.

Vi? She had lost it.

She laughed so hard she had to physically hold onto the set piece to keep herself upright. It took a full ten minutes and an entire pack of breath mints for you to even consider going through with the scene.

But as much as you bickered, there was no denying it—the chemistry was off the charts. The moment the cameras started rolling and you weren’t Y/N and Vi anymore, something clicked. Suddenly, you were two best friends hopelessly in love, bound by circumstances that would never allow them to be together. It was raw, it was emotional, and it was so frustrating for the director.

"Cut!" Frank shouted, exasperation dripping from his voice. As soon as the word left his mouth, you immediately stepped away from Vi, your longing expression vanishing like it had never been there.

"You delivered your last line too late," you huffed, flipping through your script. "The silence was awkward."

Vi rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "It’s called dramatic tension. Like my character is hesitating before saying it. You don’t know art."

You scoffed. "That’s bullshit."

"Oh my god," Frank groaned, rubbing his temples. "Can’t the two of you just stop?"

Both of you turned to face him, blinking as if you hadn’t just spent the last five minutes arguing.

"If I hadn’t sunk so much goddamn money into this movie," he continued, his face red with frustration, "and if your chemistry on screen wasn’t so damn perfect, I would’ve fired you both by now! This is insane! You can’t go three seconds without fighting!"

You and Vi exchanged a glance—one that probably lasted all of two seconds before she smirked and you scoffed again.

This was going to be a long shoot.

Later, after finally wrapping for the day, you were in your dressing room, peeling off your character’s persona and replacing it with your own. You had just finished touching up your lipstick in the bright vanity mirror when your manager, Mel, stormed in—her expression immediately telling you she did not bring good news.

"Frank is fuming," she announced, crossing her arms. "Livid. He says you're a brat who thinks she runs the set, and that Vi has the humor of a twelve-year-old boy."

You let out a small snort, not even bothering to look at her. "Well, he’s not wrong about Vi."

Mel shot you a glare. "What the hell are you two doing? How are you supposed to promote this movie when you can’t even be in the same room for five minutes without arguing?"

You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror as you fixed a stray hair. "Well, if she wasn’t so damn stubborn and stupid, I wouldn’t have a problem with her."

Mel groaned, rubbing her temples as if you were single-handedly giving her a migraine. "You know what? That’s it. I was talking to Vander, and he agreed—the two of you need figure this thing out, go out together or something."

That caught your attention. You turned to her, brows furrowing. "Go out together? Like what? A forced bonding exercise?"

"Yes, exactly," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Then she pointed a perfectly manicured finger at you. "And don’t look at me like that. I wanted to lock you two in a room for the entire weekend, but Vander thought “hanging out” was a better option."

Your lips parted slightly in disbelief. "That was your suggestion?"

Mel shrugged. "It would've worked."

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "What exactly are we supposed to do together?"

Mel smirked. "That’s for you and Vi to figure out."

Mel had given you Vi’s number—which you didn’t have after working with her for more than a month—and told you to text her. She even threatened to call your mom if you didn’t, which, honestly, was a low blow.

Naturally, you did not text Vi.

By the time you got home, showered, and settled into bed with a book you’d been dying to read, you were so ready to ignore the outside world for the next three hours. But, of course, your phone pinged with a notification from an unknown number.

(Unknown Number)

hey

(it’s vi by the way)

vander said i have to text you and we have to go out together ?

You sighed, rolling onto your back before lazily typing out a response.

You:

yeah, mel said the exact same thing to me. not that i’m too excited about it.

Violet Lane:

i know you hate me and stuff, but if we could just get this over with it would be better lol

You frowned.

You:

?

i don’t hate you?

Violet Lane:

you don’t like me either

anyway, we can just go to a restaurant or something, talk this over and “bond” (or whatever)

You stared at your screen for a moment, chewing on your lip. Did Vi really think you hated her? Sure, you bickered—a lot—but that was just how you two were. You pushed, she pushed back. It was an endless back and forth, but hate? That was a strong word.

You hesitated before typing.

You:

fine. tomorrow at 7?

Violet Lane:

cool. see you then.

You sighed, tossing your phone onto your nightstand and staring at the ceiling.

Yeah. This was either going to be a complete disaster or the longest two hours of your life.

──────────────────────

At 6:35 p.m., you were already ready—probably too ready. You had checked and rechecked your outfit, adjusted your hair at least five times, and debated whether your makeup was too casual or too much.

Your stomach was tight with nerves, anxiety creeping up for no reason at all. It was just dinner. Just a casual outing with a coworker who thought you hated her (and who, admittedly, got on your nerves more often than not). You were only doing this because Mel and Vander had threatened you into it.

Still, you found yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the time on your phone like it would magically change.

Should I text her?

Would that be weird?

Would it be even weirder if I just showed up at the restaurant early?

Before you could second-guess yourself, you opened your messages.

You:

i know i said 7, but i finished the things i had to do earlier, so i’m ready. do you wanna meet there or go together?

(Lie. You had absolutely nothing to do today—but Vi didn’t need to know that.)

A response came quickly.

Violet Lane:

i can pick you up, if you want. i’m ready as well.

You blinked. That was… unexpectedly nice of her.

You:

k

[your address]

As soon as you sent it, you tossed your phone onto the couch and exhaled, running a hand through your hair.

Okay. No big deal. You were just getting dinner.

Then why the hell did it feel like you were about to go on a date?

──────────────────────

Vi picked you up, and the drive to the restaurant was… painfully awkward. You slid into the passenger seat, muttered a quiet hey, and she responded with a nod and a simple hey back. And then… nothing.

No music. No conversation. Just the sound of the road beneath the tires and the occasional glance exchanged between you two.

At the restaurant, things weren’t much better. You placed your orders, handed the menus back to the waitress, and then sat there—staring at each other like you were both waiting for the other person to break the silence.

You cleared your throat, shifting slightly in your seat. This is ridiculous.

“Soo…” you started, grasping for anything remotely close to small talk. “Anything good happening these days?”

Vi shrugged, leaning back against her chair. “Nah. Just working, you know.”

Riveting.

“Right. Of course.” You nodded “Me too.”

Another pause.

You took a sip of your drink. Vi did the same.

This was painful.

You were supposed to be bonding, fixing the weird tension between you, but so far, it felt like the two of you were just tolerating each other's presence.

Vi exhaled through her nose, drumming her fingers against the table. “Okay, this is weird, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, so weird.”

Vi cracked a small grin, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s just—be normal. For once.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For once?”

“You did spend the first two weeks acting like I personally offended your ancestors.”

Your mouth dropped open. “I did not!”

Vi shot you a knowing look.

“…Okay, maybe I wasn’t the most welcoming.” You rolled your eyes. “But you were annoying as hell.”

Vi smirked. “Still am.”

“Unfortunately.”

And from then on, you actually talked.

Your food arrived, and for the first time since you started working together, the conversation flowed easily. You talked about why you got into acting, your dream roles, the best and worst people you’d worked with, the projects you would never do, and the actors you’d always wanted to work with.

“Well, I always wanted to work with you.” Vi’s voice was softer now, a little hesitant, as she cut into her steak.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged, avoiding your eyes as if embarrassed to admit it. “One of the reasons I took this role was because your name was already on it.”

That was… surprising. Vi, who you were sure couldn’t stand you, had actually wanted to work with you?

“I always admired your work,” she added, still not quite meeting your gaze. “Your performances always felt so real—like you weren’t just acting, you were that person. I thought, ‘damn, if I ever get the chance to work with her, I have to take it.’”

For a moment, you just stared at her, unsure how to respond. This was the same Vi who had laughed for ten minutes over a tuna sandwich before your first kiss rehearsal. The same Vi who had argued with you over every minor detail on set. The same Vi who, up until an hour ago, you were convinced didn’t even like you.

And yet, here she was, admitting that she’d taken this role, in part, because of you.

You swallowed, setting your fork down. “I—wow. I didn’t know that.”

Vi finally glanced up, offering a small, almost sheepish smile. “Well… now you do.”

And maybe—just maybe—you could actually make this work.

──────────────────────

After that dinner, work became bearable.

Frank no longer looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown every time you and Vi were in the same room. You still bickered, but now it was more playful than anything—teasing quips, exaggerated eye rolls, and smirks exchanged between takes.

And, to your absolute horror, you actually laughed at one of her jokes.

“I can’t believe my eyes!” Vi exclaimed dramatically, pointing at you like you were a rare species on display. “She’s actually laughing at my joke! Somebody get a camera, this is a historic moment!”

“Shut up!” you said between chuckles, trying (and failing) to regain your composure.

After that, things just… shifted.

Vi started bringing you coffee in the mornings—because apparently, she noticed that your usual sour mood could be fixed with a large caramel macchiato. She never said anything about it, just handed you the cup with a smirk like it was no big deal.

And maybe it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it also wasn’t a big deal that you’d started looking forward to seeing her face every morning. Or that you caught yourself glancing at her between takes, watching the way she effortlessly charmed the crew with her stupid jokes and easygoing attitude.

It was not a big deal.

Until one of your last scenes together.

Vi’s character was leaving. It was an emotional scene—there were tears, there was rain, there was heartbreak. The two of you stood on a dimly lit train platform, the cold air thick with tension, with unsaid words.

And then you ran to her, your shoes splashing against the wet pavement as you grabbed her arm, desperation spilling from your lips.

“You can’t leave me in this town,” you pleaded, breathless, water dripping from your soaked hair. “It’s not fair. They can’t make you do this!”

Vi turned to you, her face half-lit by the flickering station lights, raindrops clinging to her lashes. “It’s not their choice,” she said, voice unsteady, tears mixing with the artificial rain. “I want to leave.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “I can’t keep living this lie. I can’t be myself here.”

Your breath hitched. You shook your head, your hands trembling as they clutched the fabric of her soaked jacket. “Please,” you sobbed, the cold making you shake, but not nearly as much as the emotions clawing their way out of you. “I—I love you.”

The words came out like a confession, like a wound torn open.

And for a moment—just a moment—you weren’t sure if the silence between you was scripted or not.

Vi’s eyes locked onto yours, her breath shallow, her lips parted slightly. You could hear the rain hitting the pavement, the distant sound of a train horn echoing through the empty station.

Then, she kissed you.

You had kissed before. Countless times, in countless takes. But this? This was different.

Her hands found your waist, pulling you in, grounding you in the middle of the storm. One of them trailed up, fingertips ghosting along your skin before settling at the back of your neck, holding you like you were something fragile.

You melted into her, fingers curling into the damp fabric of her shirt, letting yourself sink into the warmth of her despite the freezing rain.

And then, just as suddenly, she pulled away—her breath ragged, forehead resting against yours.

“I love you too,” she said, softer than she should have. “But not enough to stay.”

And just like that, she was gone.

She turned, stepping onto the train, leaving you standing on that rain-soaked platform, crumbling from the inside out.

When Frank called cut, the entire set fell into stunned silence.

No one moved. No one spoke. The only sound was the steady patter of artificial rain against the pavement, mixing with the remnants of your ragged breathing.

Then, as if snapping out of a trance, crew members rushed forward, wrapping warm towels around your trembling frame, fussing over you, making sure you weren’t too cold.

But none of it registered.

Because your eyes were still on her.

Vi stood a few feet away, drenched, her chest still rising and falling from the weight of the scene. Strands of wet hair clung to her forehead, rain trailing down the curve of her jaw, but she didn’t move to wipe it away. She just looked at you.

It was a silent conversation, one you weren’t sure you understood.

And then, just like that, someone called her name, and the moment was gone.

──────────────────────

After wrapping up filming and sending the movie into post-production, you and Vi barely kept in contact.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Life simply got busy. You had new projects to consider, meetings to attend, scripts to read. You were thrown back into the chaotic whirlwind of the industry, and Vi… well, Vi had her own life.

But that didn’t stop the weird feeling in your chest. The absence of her was something you noticed, in ways you didn’t expect.

Her face wasn’t the first thing you saw when you walked on set every morning, You no longer groggily accept the caramel macchiato she always brought you with that smug little smirk. You didn’t hear her humming on set, or listen to her dumb jokes between takes.

The worst part? You caught yourself missing it.

You missed the way she’d argue with you over the most insignificant things, how her eyes would light up whenever she got you to crack a smile, how easy it had become to just be around her.

And maybe that was why, after a month of telling yourself you were too busy to reach out, you found yourself sitting in Mel’s office, trying—and failing—to make it sound like you weren’t fishing for an excuse.

“Have you heard from Frank?” you asked, leaning casually against her desk, as if this were just a passing thought.

Mel didn’t even look up from the magazine she was reading—the one that featured an interview you had given a few weeks ago. “About?”

“Post-production for Complex,” you said, picking at the edge of a business card on her desk. “We must be starting promotions soon, right?”

That finally made her glance up, one perfectly arched brow raising as she studied you. The sharp gold liner on her eyelids made her green eyes look even more piercing.

“You know you don’t need an excuse to talk to her, right?”

Your hand froze mid-pick.

You let out a nervous laugh. “What do you mean by that? I’m asking about the movie.”

“Uh-huh.” Mel’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as she lazily flipped another page. “Everything’s on track. Frank said you should hear about it soon. The movie trailer should be out in a week or two.”

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. That was good. That meant press tours, interviews, red carpets—things that would inevitably bring you and Vi back into each other’s orbit.

You should have been focusing on that.

But all you could think about was your phone, sitting in your pocket. And the fact that nothing was stopping you from pulling it out, scrolling to her name, and just—

You swallowed, pushing the thought away.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

──────────────────────

After the movie trailer was released, you filmed a couple of interviews, and suddenly, it felt like you were whole again.

Vi’s presence was there—her lazy smirk, the sarcasm wrapped in dry humor, the way she’d nudge you under the table just to see if she could get a reaction.

It was like nothing had changed.

Like you hadn’t spent weeks pretending you weren’t waiting for a message from her. Like you hadn’t caught yourself missing her laugh in the middle of a quiet afternoon. Like there wasn’t something undeniably different lingering between you, hidden beneath the playful banter and easy rhythm you fell back into so effortlessly.

But it was different.

Because now, every stolen glance lasted a second too long. Every brush of her fingers against yours felt intentional. And every time she looked at you—really looked at you—you swore you could still feel the ghost of that last kiss, the way her hands had held you like she was afraid to let go.

And you didn’t know if you were imagining it, if you were just hoping for something more than what it really was, if you were being downright delusional.

But if it meant she would be around you for longer, you would be the most delusional person in the world.

“Earth to Y/N.” Vi’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you blinked rapidly, turning to face her. She was looking at you with a knowing smirk, her elbow propped on the armrest between you. “You good over there? Looked like you were having a moment or something.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “Just thinking about how much I regret agreeing to this interview with you.”

Vi gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. “And here I was, so excited to see you again.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

The interviewer, who had been watching your interaction with amusement, cleared her throat. “It’s clear you two have amazing chemistry, both on-screen and off. Was it always like this during filming?”

Vi grinned, glancing at you. “Oh, absolutely not. Y/N hated me at first.”

You groaned. “I did not hate you!”

“She totally did.” Vi turned back to the interviewer, ignoring your protests. “She was all serious and broody, barely talked to me for the first couple of weeks. But then I broke her.” She smirked, tilting her head toward you. “Didn’t I?”

You gave her a flat look, but you couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through your chest. “You wish.”

The interviewer laughed. “Well, whatever the process was, it clearly worked, because your performances in Complex are incredible.”

Vi nodded. “What can I say? We’re just that good.”

And maybe she was right. Maybe this—whatever this was—was just the natural result of spending so much time together. Of playing two people desperately in love.

But then Vi glanced at you again, her expression softer this time, her arm brushing against yours on the armrest.

And suddenly, you weren’t so sure.

The next interviews were all like that—her lingering touches, the way her fingers would find the small of your back when she guided you through a crowd, the way she’d stare at you like you were the only person in the room.

It was weird. Even for Vi.

Sure, you were both actors, but she couldn’t be acting all of it. Not when her hand rested on your waist a second longer than necessary. Not when she looked at you like she was memorizing your face.

And yet, you kept telling yourself you were imagining things.

Until one particular interview made it impossible to ignore.

“So, we heard rumors about your interactions on set,” the interviewer, a short blonde girl with an overly cheerful tone, began, her eyes locked onto Vi. “How you bickered all the time and made the director go nuts. What do you have to say about that, Vi?”

She acted like you didn’t even exist.

Almost all the questions were directed at Vi, and even when you did answer something, she barely spared you a glance, her attention fixed entirely on Vi, nodding eagerly at every word she said.

You tried not to let it bother you, but with every passing minute, you felt yourself shrinking in your chair.

By the time you left the studio, you were fuming.

Vi, however, was thoroughly entertained.

She gave you a ride home, and the moment you got into the car, you turned to her with an exaggerated voice.

“What do you have to say about that, Vi?” you mocked the interviewer’s tone. “Oh, I think you’re so hot, and I’m going to ignore Y/N while I talk to you!”

Vi chuckled, shaking her head as she started the engine. “Damn, that’s pretty good. You should do impressions more often.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at her.

“What?” She smirked, sparing you a glance. “Are you jealous?”

Your cheeks burned instantly.

“Of course I am! She ignored me the whole time!”

Vi snorted, her grip tightening around the steering wheel. “Yeah, because she was too busy flirting with me.”

You huffed, looking out the window. “Could’ve at least redirected a question or two…”

Vi was quiet for a moment before she said, voice laced with amusement, “Didn’t know you cared so much about my attention, princess.”

You turned to glare at her again, but she was grinning, eyes still on the road.

“Shut up.”

Vi only laughed, shaking her head.

And when her hand dropped from the gear shift, resting just close enough to your thigh, you didn’t move away.

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence. The night air was crisp, the windows rolled down just enough for the wind to kiss your face, ruffling your hair as the city lights blurred past.

For a moment, it almost felt like old times—like the months apart hadn’t left a hollow space in your chest, like you hadn’t spent too many nights staring at your phone, hesitating over an unsent message.

And then, just before Vi pulled up in front of your place, she spoke.

“Why didn’t you text me?” Her voice was casual, like she was asking about the weather, like it didn’t really matter. She kept her eyes on the road, fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. “Or call?”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the question—by the way it hung between you, heavier than it should be.

You turned to look at her, studying her profile, the soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows across her face.

“Why didn’t you?”

Vi finally glanced at you, just for a second, but there was something in her expression—something unreadable, something that made your chest tighten.

She let out a soft scoff, shaking her head as she pulled the car into park.

“Touché” she muttered.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged—like a question waiting to be answered, like a decision waiting to be made.

Then you opened the door.

Pausing for just a second, you glanced back at her. Vi was watching you now, her fingers still drumming against the steering wheel, jaw tense like she had something to say but wasn’t sure if she should.

You offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“See you on the premiere.”

And with that, you stepped out, closing the door behind you.

──────────────────────

On the day of the premiere, a driver picked you and Mel up. She spent the entire drive coaching you—how to answer questions, how to walk, how to carry yourself—but none of it stuck. Her voice was just background noise, drowned out by the only thought looping in your mind.

Vi.

How would she act? Would she pretend like nothing was going on? Would she ignore you? Would the two of you just be professional—smiling for the cameras, standing side by side like coworkers instead of... whatever it was you had become?

The knot in your stomach tightened with every mile closer to the venue. Your palms were damp, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mel’s voice finally broke through your daze.

You blinked, turning to her. “Huh?”

She sighed, exasperated but amused. “That’s what I thought.” Then, with a knowing smirk, she added, “She’s probably thinking about you just as much as you’re thinking about her.”

You scoffed, looking away. It was like Mel had a sixth sense.

She just chuckled, shaking her head. “Hopeless.”

The car slowed to a stop, and suddenly, it was time.

Blinding flashes erupted from every direction, a chorus of voices calling your name. You moved with practiced ease—smiling, posing, keeping your posture pristine as you stepped onto the red carpet.

But your mind was elsewhere.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching. Looking for her.

If Vi had arrived, you couldn’t see her. And that realization made the knot in your stomach twist just a little tighter.

You spotted Frank mid-interview and took the opportunity to approach him.

“Hii!” You waved, making your presence known.

“Oh, there she is! One of our stars of the night!” Frank beamed, his entire demeanor much warmer than the no-nonsense director you were used to seeing on set. “She’s one of the reasons we’re standing here tonight!”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Don’t flatter yourself, Frankie. Without you, this project never would’ve happened.”

The interviewer smiled at your exchange, clearly entertained. “The chemistry in Complex felt so real—especially between you and Vi. What was it like working so closely together?”

At the mention of her name, you hesitated for just a second—just long enough for Frankie to notice.

“Ah,” he teased, nudging you lightly, “now that’s a question.”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus. “Vi is... incredible. She’s the kind of actress that makes you better just by being in the scene with you.”

The interviewer nodded eagerly. “And off-camera?”

Your lips parted, but before you could say anything—

“Why don’t you ask me that?”

Your breath caught.

Because there she was.

Vi strolled up beside you, effortlessly charming, effortlessly her—a lazy smirk playing at her lips, the sharp cut of her suit fitting her entirely too well.

And just like that, the entire world shrank down to her.

She stopped beside you, her hand instinctively finding your waist—like it belonged there. A gentle squeeze, warm and grounding, as she turned to answer the question.

“I’m wonderful to work with. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you.” She smirked, her tone playful, but you barely registered her words.

Because damn.

She looked stunning.

The open-back suit she wore left little to the imagination, her toned muscles on full display beneath the flashing lights. It wasn’t fair—nothing about her was fair.

Your focus shattered, your train of thought completely derailed.

The interviewer laughed, oblivious to the way your eyes shamelessly roamed over Vi. “And what about her?” she asked, motioning to you. “What was she like to work with?”

Vi tilted her head slightly, considering. Then, as if she hadn’t just ruined your ability to form a coherent sentence, she murmured

“She makes it easy.”

Your breath hitched.

She wasn’t looking at the interviewer. She was looking at you.

And you felt it—like a spark catching fire, like something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

After countless photos, interviews, and polite smiles, the entire cast finally made their way inside the theater for the screening. But Vi was still glued to you—her hand finding your waist, her fingers brushing against yours, her presence a constant, undeniable force.

So you did the only thing that made sense.

You grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the nearest bathroom.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Vi chuckled, but followed you without hesitation.

You pushed open the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind you.

Then you turned to her, frustration boiling over. “Okay,” you started, jabbing a finger into her chest, “I need you to be sohonest with me right now.”

Vi raised an amused brow but said nothing, letting you continue.

“Are you being serious or is this just for the movie?” You demanded, your heart racing. “Because I swear to God, Vi, you’re giving me serious mixed signals, and I don’t know if I’m being down-right delusional or—”

And she had the audacity to smirk at you.

That damn smirk. The one that made your stomach flip. The one made impossibly more infuriating by the bold red of her lipstick.

Vi took a step closer, slow and deliberate, her voice dropping into something almost dangerous.

“What if I am being serious?”

Your pulse skyrocketed. The air between you felt thick, charged with something that had been simmering for too long.

“Then we need to do something about it,” you said, inhaling sharply—your lungs burned like you had been holding your breath for weeks. “Because I’m tired of you joking around and then holding me like you want me, looking at me like that…”

Vi tilted her head slightly, her smirk softening into something real. Something that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Like what?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “Like you feel something,” you admitted, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “Like you want this as much as I do.”

She exhaled, long and slow, her fingers twitching at her sides—like she was holding herself back.

Then, so quietly it almost got lost in the space between you, she said, “I do.”

You barely had time to process it before her hands were on you, pulling you in, closing the distance in a way that left no room for uncertainty.

Her lips crashed into yours, and this time, there was nothing to hide behind. No cameras, no script, no excuses. Just her. Just you. And the way she kissed you like she had been waiting for this moment just as desperately as you had.

Your hands went straight to the opening of her suit, fingertips dragging down the exposed skin of her back, desperate, needing to hold her—to make sure she was real and not just another scene you’d have to pretend didn’t mean anything.

Your back hit the door you had locked only moments ago, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat pooling between you. Vi’s hands were everywhere—on your neck, slipping under the fabric of your dress, gripping the back of your thigh as she lifted it around her waist. The only sound in the bathroom was your breathless kisses, the rustling of clothes, the quiet hum of a moment neither of you wanted to end.

Until your phone started ringing.

You groaned against her lips, fumbling for the device in your purse without pulling away completely. Vi kissed down your neck, her lips never leaving your skin as you glanced down at the screen.

Mel’s name flashed on the display.

“Fuck,” you exhaled.

Vi huffed out a breath, her thumb brushing over your hip, her smirk returning. “You gonna get that?”

You hesitated. No, you really didn’t want to.

But Mel was persistent, and if you didn’t pick up, she’d probably barge into the bathroom herself.

With a groan, you answered, trying—and failing—to steady your breathing. “Mel—”

“Where the hell are you?” she hissed. “The movie is about to start! I swear to God, if you and Vi are off somewhere being unprofessional—”

You locked eyes with Vi, her smirk only growing.

“We’re coming” you said quickly, voice slightly breathless.

“You better.” And with that, Mel hung up.

Vi chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Guess we should go be professional, huh?”

You sighed, reluctantly letting her step back, already missing the warmth of her. But as you looked at her—lipstick smudged, pupils blown, her suit out of place from where your hands had been—you knew there was no more pretending.

Something had changed.

And this time, neither of you wanted to run from it.

──────────────────────

You fixed yourself as best as you could, smoothing out your dress, running your fingers through your hair, and dabbing at your lips to make sure they weren’t too swollen. But Vi—Vi was a mess. Her lipstick was completely gone, her eyeliner smudged just slightly at the edges, and the faint red marks on her back, stark against her skin, were impossible to ignore.

“Why did you wear this stupid suit?” you muttered under your breath, practically dragging her toward the theater.

Vi chuckled, completely unbothered. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

You shot her a glare, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

By the time you slipped inside, the room was dim, the screen displaying the production company logos as the final guests settled in their seats. You spotted Mel near the middle row and made a beeline for her, thanking God that Vander was still across the room, too deep in conversation with Frank to pay you or Vi any mind.

Mel barely spared you a glance as you slid into the seat beside her, Vi dropping into the one next to you. Then, without missing a beat, she leaned in and whisper-yelled, “Where were you? Actually—” she held up a hand before you could answer, “don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

You pressed your lips together, fighting back a smirk.

“Just sit down,” she sighed, adjusting in her seat. “You’re lucky Frank decided to give a speech before it started.”

Vi leaned in, just enough that only you could hear. “See? We are professionals.”

You rolled your eyes, but when her hand held yours on the armrest, when she shot you that look, like this was your little secret, you knew—tonight wasn’t just about the movie.

It was about you and her.

──────────────────────

masterlist

[httpvomitello]

Hii could you do a peter parker x reader where the reader is like very touch starved but her finally feeling comfortable and safe with Peter?

I love ur peter fics so much btw

Helloooo, thank you for liking my fics! I hope you like this one too ~ ♡♡

(Andrew's version of Spider-Man is my favorite, so at any opportunity I will write about him, hehe.)

Safe Hands .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: You've always been touch-starved—flinching at handshakes, hesitating with hugs, avoiding vulnerability. But dating Peter Parker slowly begins to change that. His gentle presence, his patient hands, and the way he looks at you like you're the only person in the world… it breaks down walls you didn’t even know you’d built.

peter parker x f!reader

WARNINGS: a little NSFW if you almost squint your eyes to notice it.

It didn’t happen overnight.

Peter didn’t expect it to. He never rushed you, never questioned the way your hands would twitch slightly when someone reached out for you, or the way you’d stiffen for a second too long when he kissed your forehead. He noticed, but he never pushed. That was part of why you felt yourself falling for him.

That and the way he looked at you. Like you were sunlight.

You’d told him early on—voice shaky and eyes darting anywhere but his—that you weren’t the most affectionate person. You’d said it like an apology. But Peter just smiled, cupped your face gently and said, “That’s okay. I’ve got enough affection for both of us.”

And he meant it.

Still, you saw the flickers in his expression sometimes—hesitation when he reached for your hand, caution in the way he moved near you. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable. And that made you want to be close to him more than anything.

The first time you initiated a hug, Peter didn’t say a word. You had shown up at his apartment after a long, awful day. The kind of day that sat heavy on your chest and made your bones ache. And when he opened the door, tousled and in sweatpants, with a gentle smile already forming, you just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

You felt him freeze for half a second, like he couldn’t believe it.

Then his arms came around you in the warmest, tightest way. He didn’t ask questions. He just held you. And you nearly cried because—God—you’d never felt safe like that before.

From then on, it got easier.

You’d curl against him on movie nights, your legs tangling with his. You’d reach out and thread your fingers through his while walking through the city. And sometimes, when the nightmares came, you’d climb into his lap, bury your face in his shoulder, and just breathe him in until the world felt quiet again.

Peter never said much during those moments. He’d kiss the top of your head and run his fingers through your hair. Whisper a soft, “I’ve got you, love.” And you knew he did.

It was late one night when something shifted.

You were curled on his bed, legs tangled under the covers, his arm draped across your waist. The lamp on the bedside table cast a soft glow, and the sound of rain pattered against the window. Peter was playing with your fingers—his favorite thing to do when you laid together like this.

“You okay?” he asked, voice a low murmur against your ear.

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut. “More than okay.”

There was a pause, long and thoughtful. Then you turned toward him, placing your hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch like it was instinct, like he’d been waiting for it.

“I used to hate being touched,” you whispered.

Peter’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I didn’t know what safe touch felt like. I never really… trusted anyone with it. But with you…” You hesitated, your throat thick with emotion. “With you, I feel like I can finally breathe. Like I’m not broken for needing someone.”

Peter’s hand slid to your waist, holding you with that same gentle strength. “You’re not broken,” he whispered. “You’re human. And I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.”

You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him.

It started slow, like always—your lips brushing his, soft and tender, breath mingling. But something buzzed under your skin. Not panic. Not fear. Just need.

You shifted closer, straddling his lap, and Peter’s hands immediately went to your hips, grounding you. His kisses deepened, growing hungrier, and the sound he made when you tugged gently at his shirt made your whole body light up.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest rising fast. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, lips slightly parted. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Peter guided you down gently, the reverence in his touch making your chest ache in the best way. He kissed every inch of skin he could reach, whispering soft praises—“You’re so beautiful… God, I love you.”—like you were something divine.

He didn’t rush a single second.

Every move was slow. Careful. Like he was learning you piece by piece, and you were doing the same with him.

You’d never felt so cherished.

So seen.

And when it was over, when you were curled into his chest, bodies warm and tangled beneath the covers, he whispered your name like it was something sacred.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

You pressed your lips to his collarbone. “I know.”

It had been a week since that night.

Since you'd finally let yourself fall into Peter’s arms without holding back. Since you'd let yourself be vulnerable—fully, completely—with someone who made you feel like you were worth it.

You still weren’t used to waking up wrapped in someone’s arms. But Peter made it easy. Waking up to his sleepy smile, messy hair, and the soft way he whispered “Good morning, beautiful” like it was a reflex... yeah, you were getting very used to it.

But today felt different.

It started off normal. You both grabbed coffee near ESU, where Parker had some lab work to finish and you had a few errands to run. You kissed his cheek and promised to meet up later. All good.

Until Peter stopped by the bookstore downtown to surprise you.

And found you laughing.

With him.

A guy you used to know from before Parker. Tall. Handsome enough. A little too confident. He was standing close—way too close for Peter’s liking—and you were smiling that soft smile Peter swore was reserved for him.

You hadn’t seen him walk in yet. He stayed quiet, watching for a second longer than he probably should’ve. Something twisted in his stomach, ugly and uncomfortable.

He didn’t doubt you. Not for a second.

But God, that didn’t stop the jealousy from curling in his chest.

When you spotted him, you immediately lit up.

“Hey, babe!” you waved, motioning him over, oblivious to the storm behind his eyes. “Didn’t know you’d be done so early.”

Peter plastered a smile on his face, walking over and sliding his arm—just a little tighter than usual—around your waist.

“Hey,” he said, kissing your cheek, eyes never leaving the guy in front of you.

“Oh! This is Josh—old friend from high school. Josh, this is Peter. My boyfriend.”

Josh gave a tight smile. “Lucky guy.”

Peter’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

There was tension in the air now. You could feel it.

Josh made some excuse and quickly took off. As soon as he left, you turned to Peter with a raised brow.

“Okay… what was that?”

Peter didn’t look at you at first. He stared at the door Josh walked out of, jaw tight. Then finally, he turned back, his voice low.

“He was flirting with you.”

You blinked. “What? No, he wasn’t.”

Peter gave you a look.

You sighed. “Okay, maybe. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t flirting back.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know that. I trust you, I do. I just—” He ran a hand through his hair, voice quieter now. “I just don’t like people looking at you like that. Like they don’t know you’re already someone’s whole world.”

Your heart squeezed.

“You’re my whole world too, y’know,” you said softly, stepping closer.

Peter looked at you, all the tension in his shoulders slowly melting.

“I’m not used to… having something this good,” he admitted. “So when I see someone trying to sneak into that space, even just for a second, it drives me crazy.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. “You don’t have to be jealous, Peter. I’m yours. Only yours.”

He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “Say that again.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered. “I chose you. I keep choosing you. No one else ever made me feel safe the way you do.”

Peter opened his eyes then, and the heat in them was something you felt down to your spine.

He kissed you right there—slow but deep, fingers gripping your waist like he needed you closer, like he needed to remind himself that you were real.

“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, just loud enough for you to hear.

You smiled, breathless. “Yours.”

[poem-i-wish-i-wrote]

heyy, what's up? I wanted to request some angst to fluff with charles where the reader and him have a big fight and the reader decides to go to a hotel and he finds her and apologizes and they go back to their house and spend a lot of time together. if there's anything you would like to change feel free to do so ☺️ love your writing btw 🩷

Heyy Anon. Thank you so much for the request. I tried my best to do it justice. i really hope you like it. And i'm sooo delighted to hear you like my writing. You have no idea how much that means to me. enjoy!

Also requests are open

Standing at the door like a ghost shaking from the rain

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader Warning: angst, lots of angst, Charles being dismissive and avoidant, mention of anxiety.

It’s been a horrible week for you at work. You felt so frustrated. You wish you could have talked to someone, but it feels like no ones ever around when it's you who needs some support.

Not even your boyfriend. It always seems like when you were having a bad week, Charles was having a worse one. And you end up not seeking comfort in him, because you don’t wanna be a burden. You don’t wanna add to his problems or concerns.

 Last week was the Austrian GP week, where Charles had a god awful result. He was very upset and stressed about it. You tried to comfort him as much as you could. But his quiet resentment hanged in the air like a ticking bomb. It just made you more anxious, it just made the week feel worse. And he was busy this whole week trying to improve his performance, always in training, always in meetings. You didn’t hold it against him. He needed to improve, he needed to work, you know that. 

But you hated how he acted when he came home. Avoiding talking to you, dismissing you when you tried to ask if he was okay and if he wanted to talk about it. Demeaning you with his actions. He would always be yelling at the phone. Acting bit aggressive while doing things. It was all putting you on edge.  But you said nothing. He was having a hard time, you couldn’t blame him right?

You were at one of Charles' friend's parties. Charles merely paid you any attention the whole evening. You didn’t know any of these people, and Charles didn’t introduce you to anyone unless someone asked about you. You felt very uncomfortable. It was an especially awful day. You almost decided not to come to the party today. You were home lying on your bed thinking how you will tell Charles you wanted to stay home tonight. But Charles barged into the room and asked “Why aren’t you getting ready? Fuck Y/n we can’t be late.” Somehow that expression of his made you not want you to engage in a conversation with him. 

So here you were standing uncomfortably, as your boyfriend was laughing with his friends and their spouses, completely ignoring you. You could feel yourself shaking a bit. You were anxious. Everything about his body language was making you feel worse.

By the time you got back home, the pent up emotions of the whole week got to you. You were throwing your jewelries on the dressing table. Slamming washroom and closet doors. You didn’t even look at Charles as you changed, freshened up and got ready to call it a night. Charles could sense you were mad. 

You were getting yourself a glass of water, aggressively putting down the jug when Charles walked into the kitchen. “Why are you so pissed off?”

“I’m not.” “Yes, you are. You're acting ridiculous,” You close your eyes trying not to pounce at the man in front of you in anger. “It’s nothing.”

“Why are you acting this way? You barely talked to my friends all night. You weren’t even willing to get ready for the party. That’s so insensitive of you!”

“Oh wow” you express with raised eyebrows. “I was being insensitive? What about you? How am I supposed to talk to your friends if you don’t even introduce me? You’ve been acting like an asshole all week. I’m trying to be there for you regardless, and you call me insensitive.”

“What do you mean I was being an asshole? You know I have had a hard week, if you can’t accept a little change in my mood, then how is this supposed to work between us?” “Please Charles, you know I can handle your change in moods, but you took it too far. You pay me no attention. You keep pushing me away. What am I supposed to do?” “Well if you supported me and my work then you would have found a way to be there for me”  That struck a nerve, and suddenly you were yelling everything you have been trying so hard to repress all week.

“Oh I don’t support your work?! You know what, Charles?? You're not the only one with a career. Other people have bad days too.  I don’t support you? I’ve been trying to comfort you all week. What have you done? Have you paid me any attention? Did you even notice how hard I’ve been struggling? My project fell through this morning. I’ve been having absolute shit time at work, but you don’t see me treating you with a bad attitude because of that” You yell. You were visibly shaking now. This was all getting too much.

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in your office?” he yells back. “It’s not about knowing. It’s about being there for each other! And you are never around for me anymore. I feel more alone when I’m with you.” “You are being fucking ridiculous. You can’t just put that all on me.” Charles states. You press your hands on your eyes in frustration.

“You know what. Yeah , I’m being ridiculous. And you have a race next week. Maybe I should just leave you to concentrate on your career. I can't stay here anymore." You say before leaving the kitchen and getting your purse and phone from your room.

“Y/n?! Y/n! Where are you going?” Charles follows you. You don’t say a word, you just put on your shoes and slam the door behind you. You get into your car and drive off, leaving Charles standing alone in your living room, thinking about how he just fucked up.

You were at a hotel now. It’s been 2 hours since you left the house. It was raining heavily outside. You were crying under the covers. Everything was crumbling, your career, your relationship. You felt so damn alone. You could feel your anxiety get worse by the minute. 

Suddenly you heard a knock on your hotel room door. A desperate knock. You just lay there hearing the sound. You couldn’t find the energy to get up. The knock continued. You finally got up and opened the door to find a very drenched Charles Leclerc in front of you. 

“What the fuck Charles? What Are you doing here?” You say. He was shaking from the cold. His hair all messed up, his damp hair on his face. He could see you were clearly “Y/n I’m so sorry. Please, please come back home.” He said, stepping closer to you. You backed away which broke his heart. “Y/n I’m so so sorry. You were right, I was an asshole. I was so caught up in myself, I didn't see what I was doing. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I’m so sorry I didn’t see how much my actions were affecting you. Sorry I didn’t see your struggles. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” At this point there were tears in your eyes again. You try to turn away but he grabs hold of your hand. 

“I’m so sorry Mon Cheri. I’m so sorry I hurt you this bad. Please come home to me. I’m never gonna do this again. Please give me one more chance to be there for you. I’ll never let you feel lonely ever again.” He pulled you close to his forehead resting against yours. You were fully crying. It seemed like he was going to cry too. “Please Y/n, please.” he whispered. You shouldn’t forgive him so easily. But You felt so awful right now, so weak. Your wrapped hands around him and buried your face in his chest. Not caring that he was fully damped from the rain. You were sobbing into his chest. He leaned into your shoulders whispering sorry into your skin as he held you tight against him. 

When you stopped crying he wiped away your tears and kissed you sweetly. “Let’s go back home, love.” He gathered your things for you before driving you home. Holding your hand the whole drive.

Back at home, he led you to the bed, holding you close to his chest as you two cuddled into each other. He kept saying sorry. And you just hold on to him tightly.

“Tell me what’s been bothering you at work,” he said while kissing your hair. “It’s nothing," you say. He lifts your face up towards him by your chin. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. Tell me, I want to know.” You give him a sad smile at that.

You two lay there talking late in the night. You tell him about the difficulties you were facing, the project that fell through and how worried you were about that. He held you tightly while playing with your hair, listening to your every word and comforting you through the night until you fell asleep.

When he realized you were fully unconscious, He pressed his lips on your temple whispering, “I'm never going to let you feel lonely ever again.”

[npookie0]

The Chaotic Duo.

A Ronin x Misaki fic

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Misaki was sitting on top of a building. Shotgun by their side, phone in their shaky hands.

<@hitmeupp>: Anyone wants to be my assassination support?

This was yet another time when they send a message like this to the server, they always did that when the target was either too dangerous or they had a very shitty day. This was the former, their clients hired her to kill a CEO of a big filming company who was also entangled with some shady mafia business. The amount of armed men around him was really getting on the poor assassin's nerves, they just wanted an easy kill, is it so much to ask for?

Well while they were cursing their client in their head, they heard a silent DING, someone dmed them!

<@goreboy>: heard you Needed some Support

<@goreboy>: what's up?

Well, that was unexpected.

Ronin usually doesn't text her when she sends a message like that, it's usually Angel who helps them. Maybe she sent Ronin because she's busy? Yeah, that's probably it.

"Dude oh my fucking God, I am dyinggg here. Like seriously, how guarded can a guy be?" They sent him a short voice message, if Angel really sent Ronin to the rescue then he wouldn't be surprised by the voice message, right?

<@goreboy>: heh seems Like the Best assassin in The Whole fucking japan is really Stressing over a small fry

<@goreboy>: who's The target btw?

"Oh shut the fuck up, I can get stressed!- oh shit he almost looked this way... oops" They send the message and then sent another one. "Some guy who worked with the mafia, the money for him is high."

<@goreboy>: damnnn alr Then maybe shoot him Before He sees ya

<@goreboy>: we Don't wanna our Fav assassin dead

They chuckled at his respone.

"Awh stop or you'll make me blush while i'm killing someone." They said jokingly, Ronin could hear them loading their gun in the message.

<@goreboy>: maybe I'd like to See ya All blushy hm?

Misaki didn't see that message until after they left the rooftop, Ronin's message really did make them blush.

<@hitmeupp>: Oh stfu

<@hitmeupp>: He's dead

<@hitmeupp>: Thanks for the help

<@goreboy>: when You need help Call For the devil and He Will help You out

Ronin chuckled after he sent that reply.

Would he really help the assassin the next time they need help? Never say never, he could as well replace Angel and take some of her worries off of her shoulders, right? Also it's important to keep the server's members alive and out of jail.

Misaki in fact did use Ronin's help, texting him directly to help her out and he was there every time. His replies were different from Angel's, well that was to be expected, they are two different people with very different personalities.

Ronin was encouraging them more in the devilish style, he was flirting with them to keep their mind off of the nerves, made jokes about the target and fed Misaki's ego about them being THE assassin.

<@goreboy>: hey Wanna Call?

<@goreboy>: i'm Bored

Misaki was surprised to receive this DM, Ronin wants to talk, and he wants to do this only with them. Weird? Maybe a little. But he could consider Misaki's interest piqued.

<@hitmeupp>: Ofc babes

Immediately after sending that on their screen was a pop up.

@goreboy is calling.

They picked up without a second thought.

Normally Misaki wouldn't show anyone their living arrangements, but only did they know Ronin for two whole years, he also was pretty open about being in possession of their IP address which meant that he knew where and how they live.

"Hey, hey. What does the big devil want from little me?" Misaki asked once the call connected.

"Not much, jus' bored, and you're quite good at amusing me." Ronin replied with a confident smirk glued to his voice.

"Woah, am I your clown now?" They asked with a fake hurt in their voice.

"More like my personal chaos maker." He was obviously flirting with them, and Misaki wasn't going to let him have his fun alone.

"Maybe we could make chaos together then?" They joked, there was no chance for them to do it together in real life, even if Misaki wished that they could meet up... Wait, what?

"About that." Ronin's voice cut through Misaki's thoughts. "I just happened to get my hands on a plane ticket to Tokio, was wondering if you could be my guide." Ronin's words made Misaki's eyes widened.

"What!" They fell from their chair. "Ouch... wait, wait, wait! What do you mean you have a plane ticket? And to Japan?"

"Don't ask so many questions, you don't need to know." Of course Ronin wouldn't answer, he has to be a fucking mystery. A hot mystery who's really helpful...

"Yeah sure whatever, so you want me to be your guide?" They crossed their arms over their chest.

"Who's better to show me around than the best assassin the whole Japan ever saw?"

"Are you seriously feeding my ego just to get me to agree? Wow Ronin... Why does this actually work every time?" They whined. "Of course I will show you around." They smiled.

"Great, I'll be there next week."

"Wait, what-"

Aaand he hang up.

Yeah. very Ronin style.

"He's coming here? Oh fuck! Ronin IS coming here! Oh my god..." Misaki's voice was mix of stress and excitement.

They started to feel something for Ronin a while ago, but they didn't really know if it would work out. But with him showing up so randomly? Maybe it was a sign?

"Oh my god! Why does it make me so fucking excited?" They groaned and fell on their bed, their face buried in a pillow so they could scream their excitement out.

A week had passed without Misaki even noticing it.

They are standing near the airport exit with the most cheesy and cringey welcoming cardboard ever: "Here stands the devil's servant" written in English, with some edgy stickers all around the words.

It didn't take Ronin long to find them and he was barely keeping in his laughter when he approached Misaki.

"Damn, such a warm welcome. Makes me feel like royalty." He said with that cocky smirk of his.

"...Why are you even hotter in person?" Misaki asked bluntly.

"You're not too bad looking yourself, quite on the contrary, you look so much better in person." He said, Misaki didn't know if he was genuine or if it was just the regular teasing, but their poor heart still took the damage.

"Uh um, yeah! We need to get to your hotel!" They changed the subject, which was answered with Ronin's chuckle.

"Sure, lead the way darling."

The assassin couldn't say that their time with The Butcher was boring. It was anything BUT boring.

Not only did they spent some fun time at the local karaoke, ate some amazing food or did other fun activities. Ronin also made sure to do some illegal activities together, going around abandoned buildings, setting trashcans on fire, Misaki watching Ronin kill a guy, or Ronin waiting for Misaki after their assassination.

They had a good time together. And undoubtedly they grew closer. Close enough that Misaki stole Ronin's shirt from his hotel room and he let her do her thing.

"You're drowning in it." Ronin's voice came from behind Misaki who just put the t-shirt on.

"AH!" They yelled and turned around. "Man learn how to walk and make sound please?" They said and glared at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway... You can keep it." He came closer to Misaki. "Suits you." He smirked.

Misaki's face turned red.

"Uh.. um... thanks?" They weren't sure how to interpret his words, but oh lord even without a proper interpretation their heart went crazy.

"Told you, you're my chaos maker." He whispered into their ear. "And we can just bring chaos to the world together."

Was that really the Devil's confession just now?

[itslouisan]

Time to have C!Techno headcannons!!!

Heyo, seems like finally I reached my 2nd favorite cc ever! I think techno's character is REALLY interesting, with great writing and details and I can definitely add some hc of my own in there, so without further ado, let's go!

(btw @syndicatedsystem you might like some of my headcannons involving Jschlatt and Techno I talk about here so yeah! Also feel free to discuss em' with me or make asks abt it, hell your blog inspires me a lot)

(I lost the name of the artist if anyone knows please tell me)

• Techno has some braids in his hair, the longer, the more he values the person

Longest: Philza, it's braided with gold details

2nd longest: Ranboo, has a amethyst crystal for purple

Mid-term: Wilbur, he braided it in consideration of a battle friend and some good times with Will, he doesn't hate or likes Wilbur, but still can't deny they do have a connection

Shortest: Tommy.

• Techno prepared a space in the cabin for Tommy in case some day, his demons and the hell he was looking for, finally was found, he'd welcome Tommy with open arms, since he'd view that the kid suffered enough and had the time to change and face any consequences he'd need to face, the space is safe, always available, but, he'd never tell Tommy that, he keeps it hidden, he's not ready to be vulnerable to the demon child again and openly say Tommy could count on him, not until Tommy makes the first step.

• Keeps the pickaxe that blinded Quackity as a trophy, this and keeps all weapons from powerful enemies with him as a reminder of a great battle he won once again

• Likes to write poetry about people and events, he'd never give them to the person, but keep it in a dusty small box in his room in the attic of the cabin

• OKAY, LET'S ALL AGREE TECHNO IS ARO/ACE? GOOD.

• Techno was friends with Jschlatt before everything went to hell, they liked to talk about random bs while watching the fire crack at night and drink some cheap booze for Jschlatt and coffee for Techno

• I view Techno also having some boar traits, so yeah territorial as FUCK don't mess with his stuff or house, also he chases pray like crazy and can eat almost anything without a problem due to that

• Doesn't CARE for alcohol, just doesn't like the idea of having a hangover afterwards since he'd be unable to fight the next day

• Would gossip with Jschlatt, Tommy and the syndicate like, ABOUT EVERYTHING, I imagine him and Jschlatt favorite hobby is shit talking people they hate

• Techno being aro/ace also means if you flirt with him, he'll just stare at your soul and bully the shit out of you, sometimes calls Phil and/or Jschlatt to roast the shit out of the person, also WILL defend himself from any creeps and defend his friends from ANY strange people since for him touch is STRICTLY a death sentence and something that takes time

• Techno smokes when stressed or in the syndicate room, making Phil always carry an extra lighter for him just in case, the 2 used to be smoking buddies before Phil quit when he adopted Chayanne and Tallulah

• Techno in the QSMP is an entity, a god watching above everyone but never leaving Phil side and the eggs side, sometimes he'd talk to Tallulah directly, or influence Phil like a voice in his head to do the right thing in his vision or appear to Chayanne in his dreams to have a chat

• Can and will drink blood from the enemies

• Loves to talk about skulls and anatomy of the body in general, a dark fact, due to respect to Jschlatt, after he died (not considering revival, I view revival as either the decomposed body coming back to life in a LESS but STILL fucked up state or a kind of new body that is the users body in the afterlife coming to the alive realm, if you guys want, I can make a post about this) picked and kept Jschlatt sheep skull, with horns and everything

(art by sadist)

• Would talk about historical wars and battles with his own analysis and commentaries on it, making a great history teacher

• totally collects greek mythology stuff, books, items, anything.

• Has a couple of tattoos but one that is pretty badass is a wither skull with red smoke on his ribs in the right, a tattoo of a emerald in the inside of his left wrist, a tattoo of a squid with a fork on it's head in reference to the potato war on his right wrist really tiny and "everything starts with blood" and "the voices demand blood" written in his tights

• My boy 100% has piercings due to piglin culture, around 75% of them being made of gold

[plutoccult]

FINGER LICKIN’ YEAH WE COOKIN’ UP A SUPER BOWL

pairing: osamu miya x female reader

description: osamu wasn’t a fan of football nor parties. however, it is only you that could convince him to agree to atsumu’s shenanigans.

word count: 4.4k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: SURPRISE!!! i had intended to write for osamu before, but the idea instead went to another character. i never forgot about my foodie king though! plus, it’s super bowl sunday, so i HAD to put this out in enough time. the idea came last minute, so i was in a bit of a rush, but i managed! sorry if it seems rushed, i truly was trying my best to get this done in time. i also apologize if anyone seems ooc, i was honest to god trying my best. for timeline’s sake, i’d say the twins are 21 in this one shot, so not quite yet to the point where osamu has his own onigiri shop and atsumu is on the japan national team. anyway, happy super bowl sunday, and enjoy! (btw i totally named this after super bowl by stray kids)

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @dragon-slayer5 @femme-lune @darthferbert @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten @intheewrld

taglist form here

osamu wasn’t thrilled when his twin atsumu sprung the idea of having a super bowl party on him out of nowhere.

“they do it in america! it’s huge there!” his twin argued, detailing everything he knows about the tradition. sure, they do air the event in japan, but what was the point? an excuse to eat and drink? hangout with their buddies from both the past and present? actually, no. osamu figured out atsumu’s motive quickly; it was an excuse for osamu to cook a bunch of food.

there was no denying atsumu was clueless in the kitchen. if it were up to him to cook anything more complex than eggs and toast, he’d burn the whole place down. osamu was better off handling majority of anything food related. his brother was lucky he enjoyed the art of cooking.

“i’m not dealing with a stupid party, tsumu.” osamu crossed his arms in protest. there was no way he was going to deal with an inevitable mess. having to cook all the food and clean up the mess after? nope, no way. he refused to do it alone. luckily, his twin could figure that out quickly.

“ah, ah, ah. i knew you’d say that.” atsumu smirked. “y/n already told me she’d help you make the food.”

the mention of your name immediately perked up osamu. best friends since high school, it was blatantly obvious you had captured the shyer twin from the start, although—like with everyone else—he could easily assume you were more drawn to atsumu as he was always so unashamedly outspoken. everyone talked to atsumu more, but even so, you always treated the twins equally. mayhaps that is why he longed for you so much.

“y/n did?” osamu asked.

“and she’s bringing cake.” his brother added.

a woman after his own heart, really, and a foodie just like osamu. you always joked about opening a bakery next door once he finally opened up the onigiri shop he dreamed of. the goal was sometime next year, so maybe catering this party would be good practice. plus, it was a good excuse to be close to you like osamu craved.

“she is?” he questioned further. if his brother wasn’t kidding around, then maybe he’d feel more inclined to agree.

“you’re not gonna say no, right?” atsumu teased. osamu grunted in response, too stubborn to say anything, which atsumu recognized. it is only his twin who can easily detect his weakness; you.

“you’re such a sucker, osamu.” he chuckled. even if osamu were a sucker for you, he wouldn’t want to be one for anyone else. and it’s not like he’s totally clueless. he’d mess with his twin somehow.

“i’ll do it…“ osamu said before stating his only condition. “if you clean up the place afterwards.”

“what?!” atsumu gawked.

“it’s only fair, right?” osamu shrugged. two can play at that game. “i cook, you clean.”

unfortunately, atsumu had no choice but to suck it up. truth be told, he orchestrated you assisting with food preparations for the sake of getting you and osamu together alone. if he says no now, then his little secret wingman plan would be a waste, so atsumu had to accept his fate.

“pft, ass.” he huffed. atsumu should’ve known better than to try playing games with his brother, knowing he could easily match his game.

“just be lucky i agreed to your idiocy.” osamu scoffed.

“only because y/n is helping!” atsumu whined. while that may be true, osamu would probably never hear the end of it if he said no whether you were involved or not.

“did i hear only onigiri on the menu?” osamu joked, knowing that would irritate his twin to no end.

“osamu!”

truth be told, he couldn’t wait for sunday now.

•••

over the next few days, osamu had kept in almost constant communication with you over text discussing food options for the party. his signature onigiri was a must despite atsumu’s protest, but other options were in store thanks to your combined brainstorming. osamu couldn’t help but ask what kind of cake you’d bring, and was ultimately disappointed when you said it was a surprise with many winky emojis involved.

when sunday finally rolled around, osamu was more energized than usual. whether that be from excitement or nerves, who knew? atsumu’s plan was going in motion quite nicely and you hadn’t even arrived yet. he truly felt like a genius assisting in his brother’s quest for love.

osamu paced back and forth around the apartment in anticipation for your arrival. the kitchen was spotless, plus the fridge and cabinets were filled to the brim with everything needed for the party. on top of that, he put atsumu up to the task of decorating the place. knowing who would have to deal with cleaning up later was the greatest part of all.

once a knock on the door emerged, the two twins battled over who got to open the door, osamu ultimately losing as his brother elbowed him in the stomach and made a run for it. if there were a best sibling award, it was clear who wouldn’t win it.

“hello, miya twins! i’ve arrived!” you said upon entering the door, your arms occupied with bags, hopefully full of sweet treats.

“hey, y/n.” atsumu greeted you, beating osamu to it as he was still recovering from what occurred just moments ago.

you—already knowing your way around the place—set your bags down on the counter before instructing that they put its contents in the fridge as soon as possible. atsumu obliged despite wondering how he would play tetris with the fridge. but before he could figure out that puzzle, he received a quick hug from you as that was your typical greeting for the twins.

“y/n?” you turn around and see osamu standing a few feet away. he wanted to curse his brother for getting to say hi to you first, but once he saw that smile on your face, all anger towards atsumu faded away in an instant.

“ah, there you are!” you exclaim, rushing towards osamu and welcoming him with a big hug, one that lasted longer than the one you shared with atsumu. you held him tight, almost squeezing the life out of him as you pulled him from side to side. it didn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe, osamu was just happy to feel so welcomed by you.

“ready to cook up a super bowl?” you ask once you finally allowed osamu the ability to breathe. “i already made desserts in advance, so i can help with what you’ve got planned.”

“i could’ve helped with that…” osamu pouted. any more excuse to be around you was all he wanted, really. plus, he was curious to know your baking secrets. he always figured you were born a master.

“but that would ruin the surprise, silly.” you poke his arm. if it were his stomach, he might have folded over. thank god you were gentle.

as much as you wanted your desserts to remain a surprise until the party started, atsumu had to immediately ruin the fun for you. “there’s a cake shaped like a football.”

“atsumu!” you scold him. “ever heard of surprises, or has your brain become mush from too many volleyballs to the head?”

“yeah, yeah.” atsumu rolled his eyes. “i’ll leave you two to get started with everything. i trust you not to burn the place down.”

“only you would do that, tsumu.” you say. the way you teased atsumu was something osamu always loved about you. you were just as relentless as him, truly. besides, someone else besides osamu had to humble the ever-so-bold twin.

“exactly. later!” atsumu said before he left you and osamu alone in the kitchen.

osamu let out a sigh the moment his brother left the room. you immediately take notice, assuming he didn’t want to be doing this for atsumu. you hoped at the very least he enjoyed your presence today.

“i take it you’re doing all this against your will?” you question, curiosity getting to the best of you.

“not exactly…” osamu replied.

“well, i couldn’t really say no to him, so…” you shy away from the truth. it would be embarrassing if you were to admit to osamu why you agreed to this, but he was painfully oblivious, assuming it was all for his brother’s sake. not because you wanted to spend time with him and only him. it seemed you were both hiding your intentions.

“yeah, of course.” osamu frowned. it’s atsumu we’re talking about.

tension quickly filled the room. you sense the uncomfortable vibe instantly, wondering if you said something wrong. was it really something you said? you didn’t seem to think so. maybe getting things started in the kitchen for the party will help.

“shall we get started?” you ask hesitantly. “i was thinking we shape the onigiri into footballs. ya know, to fit the theme.”

osamu chuckled at your idea. at least you could see him smile now. he seemed to find it cute, but also funny how you wanted to make as many items on the menu football shaped as possible.

“i could try that.” he said, trying to hold back any more laughter. if osamu were to laugh any more, he was afraid you’d think he was making fun of your idea.

“cool, i’ll get started on the wings while you get started on that.” you say without skipping a beat, immediately grabbing ingredients like you knew this kitchen as if it were your own.

osamu didn’t seem to mind it this way with you around. he’d spend the whole day in the kitchen with you, even if all you did was sit on the counter and watch while he did all the work. but that’s not who you are, you refused to leave him to do everything. most importantly, you refused to let him feel alone.

soon enough, the kitchen grew quiet, the sounds of timers beeping and water running from the sink on occasion serving as background noise. you and osamu worked together in perfect harmony, like a well oiled machine. your chemistry oozed in the room and neither of you had to say a word to each other. it was easy for you two to figure out who did what most effiently. osamu could never do this with anyone else this way, you feeling the same way, although those thoughts remained unspoken.

the lack of chatter made atsumu worried. he had been trying to eavesdrop while he was supposed to be decorating, but found it to be too quiet for his liking. as atsumu tried to lean a little more, hoping to hear something worthwhile, he ended up tripping over an extension cord, blowing his cover as he tripped right into the kitchen.

atsumu’s sudden crash startled the both of you, osamu almost dropping the pot in his hands and you almost slicing your finger as you chopped an onion.

“atsumu!” you yell as you set your knife down. atsumu was lucky you didn’t decide to threateningly wave it around right now. “the hell are you doing?!”

“it got quiet, so i was getting worried…” he answered, slowly getting back to his feet as he feared for his life. would atsumu rather face his brother’s wrath or your wrath? both of you together may be the worst combination of all, really.

“what, worried that we disappeared and left you with all this food to cook?” you cross your arms. “osamu said you were decorating, and this doesn’t look like decorating to me.”

“i was taking a break?” atsumu shrugged. that was the worst answer in the world, even he could admit that.

“just go.” osamu let out a groan. it was bad enough that atsumu used you as a way to persuade him to cook for the party, but to eavesdrop on what you two were doing? what was he trying at here? as much as osamu was curious to know, he just wanted to get back to cooking with you without any worries.

“fine…” atsumu sighed, going back to the dreadful duty of decorating all by his lonesome. the sacrifices he’s made for the sake of his brother and the girl he’s loved for years. how tragic… not.

once atsumu left, you burst into laughter. osamu furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “what’s so funny?”

“oh, just the look on his face when he got caught.” you giggle.

“yeah…” he said. it was funny, osamu could admit that, but he feared that his twin had devious plans up his sleeve. who knows if he’ll make it through the end of the day with some sort of dignity left?

•••

hours later, atsumu’s teammates from the black jackals arrived for the party. osamu was acquainted with some of them—most definitely more than acquainted with a certain pipsqueak named shoyo hinata—but he was more looking forward to seeing some of his teammates from high school, especially aran and kita. he would talk to suna, but the poor guy looked like he wanted to leave more than anything.

you seemed quite occupied at the moment, mostly due to bokuto talking your ear off about how delicious the cookies you made were. you were more than aware of his loud personality, but seeing it up close was far different than just watching him play on the court. at least you knew it wasn’t for show during matches.

osamu considered being your knight in shining armor by finding an excuse to steal you away, but he feared facing the embarrassment of his friends who wouldn’t hesitate to tease him. even if you looked at him with pleading eyes, he still hesitated. if only osamu had the guts to be a little brave for once, not standing in the shadows.

“samu…” atsumu called for him. osamu turned his attention away from watching you to see what his brother wanted, although a little annoyed.

“hm?”

“we’re out of rice. can you make more?” he asked.

osamu blinked a few times, unsure if he actually heard that correctly. “we’re… out?”

“kita ate it all up.” atsumu said.

“really?” osamu groaned. he didn’t even want to think of the logistics of his former captain eating so much rice so quickly. “grow your own rice or something, man.”

“maybe i will…” kita replied calmly, now pondering over the thought of becoming a rice farmer. it didn’t seem so bad, actually. unfortunately, the rice couldn’t just grow and magically appear already cooked. osamu wished it worked that way.

“i’ll go make more.” osamu sighed. “call for me when it’s halftime.”

once he left to head to the kitchen, you watched as he walked away, tempted to follow. maybe if you found an excuse to leave the room, like go get a drink or go to the bathroom or something. that oughta work, right?

“hey, bokuto?” you stop him mid sentence as he was still going on about your baking. “i gotta go to the bathroom. i’ll be back, okay?”

“don’t forget to give me your cookie recipe!” bokuto exclaimed as you left the living room.

atsumu raised an eyebrow upon your sudden exit, a smirk creeping up on his face soon following once he put the pieces together. “she’s not going to the bathroom…”

you find osamu already cooking, the rice cooker at work while he prepared more rice to be cooked just incase. he’d rather be safe than sorry now. osamu didn’t notice you walk in at first, but your presence became apparent soon enough once you tapped him on the shoulder.

“man, you scared me.” he chuckled, you also sharing a laugh with him. “you don’t have to help me. i’ve got this.”

“what, want some practice for when you finally open up that restaurant?” you question. osamu furrowed his eyebrows, asking “huh?” until you explained what you meant. “onigiri miya. i’ve been waiting.”

“oh, right…” osamu said, almost forgetting that little dream of his. “that.”

“well, when is it finally gonna happen?” you ask. he had talked about it for so long, and you always waited for the day it’d finally come to fruition. you probably believed in him more than he’s ever believed in himself, honestly.

“mmm, i don’t know.” he replied shyly. “next year would be nice, but there’s so many things to think about.”

“wait, really? why didn’t you tell me?!” you gasp, shocked he’d hide such an important detail from you.

“it’s just, uh, kinda scary when you admit it out loud.” osamu said. his dream of opening up his own restaurant was as scary as trying to admit the truth of his feelings. dreaming is one thing, but trying to make it a reality was another.

“samu, you know you can do it! i’ve always believed in you!” you admit, taking osamu by surprise despite how confident you always spoke about him.

“you have?”

“yes!” you say without hesitation. “from the day i met you.”

“wow, thank you…” osamu blushed. you get lost in each other’s eyes, although osamu wondered if it’s just in his imagination that you’re staring at him so intently. suddenly, the moment was ruined.

“hey, do you smell something burning?” you question as you try to sniff out the strange smell. osamu figured it out immediately, knowing it was the rice everyone was waiting on.

“the rice!” he exclaimed, rushing to the rice cooker. “i put the rice cooker on high so it’d get done faster…”

“aw, no!” you say. “is it salvageable?”

“no…” osamu sighed, looking down at the damage. “if anything, it’s a sign i shouldn’t have my own restaurant.”

to him, this was stupid. if he doesn’t do everything perfectly, then what’s the point? it seemed to silly to immediately think the worst, that this was a sign of imminent failure. osamu was good at keeping that competitive perfectionist part of him hidden to most, always making it seem like he just gets everything right the first time, but only you can see that he has flaws. at the end of the day, you continue to be his weakness, but that doesn’t mean you don’t make him feel strong.

“hey, hey, hey.” you grab his arm, a jolt coming from osamu by your sudden touch. “you overcook rice one time and all of the sudden your dream is dead? chefs mess up all the time. you’re human, you know. i think you’ve forgotten that.”

“but—”

“i mean, come on. you think i just magically knew how to make a cake one day?” you ask jokingly. even if you meant for the question to be a silly one, osamu took it quite literally.

“honestly? yeah. the first time you brought cake to school for me and sumu’s birthday was the best thing i ever tasted.” he said, recalling your first year of high school together. you hadn’t been friends with the twins for that long at that point, but you decided to surprise them with a cake for their birthday as it fell on a school day. like osamu said, it was the best thing he ever tasted. he felt like he found his future wife in that moment.

“samu, i spent all night making like five different cakes cause i kept messing them up.” you confess. it was a secret you carried for years, shocked you never said anything before, but only just now having the guts to say it. even so, osamu couldn’t believe it to be true. he always swore your skills came to you like second nature. how come he never knew before? you were very good at hiding things, it seemed.

“you did? why?” he asked.

“because…” you hesitate. might as well fess up, you suppose. “i really wanted you to like it.”

“me and tsumu?” osamu questioned. what an idiot.

you shake your head, almost tempted to laugh over how blind he was to what you were trying to say. part of you was a little frustrated, but you wouldn’t let that get to the best of you. “you really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

“i guess i am…” he replied, unsure of what else to say.

you let out a sigh. should you say it? the whole truth? you didn’t know it, but you were in the same boat as osamu. you did this for each other without even realizing it. it is you, however, who will be brave enough to admit such a truth. no going back now after you’ve already admitted so much.

“i only agreed to helping with this party because atsumu knew i wanted an excuse to be close to you.” you tell him, looking away. osamu swore you looked ashamed to say those words out loud, but even so, the truth shocked him to the very core.

“he… what?”

when you grant yourself the guts to look him in the eye once more, the look on his face made you think you shouldn’t have said anything. but osamu wanted to scream, scream about how long he liked you and how he never thought he’d see this day. he didn’t know if the universe planted the seeds for this very moment, but he couldn’t let it slip away. not when you believed in him like it was breathing.

“nothing. don’t worry about it.” you shake your head. “i’ll help you restart the rice. hungry people waiting.”

“no.” osamu stopped you. you freeze in your tracks, waiting for what else he had to say. “forget the rice.”

“huh—”

“why do you think i told tsumu i’d help with this party?” he asked. you’re at a loss for words, unsure of what to say. it is usually you who stood tall, but osamu took your place, taking charge for the sake of making sure you knew the truth. “i said i would because he told me you were coming here. he knew you were the only thing that’d get me to say yes. called me a sucker and everything.”

your cheeks flush, a smile creeping up on your face as the realization of osamu’s mutuals feelings hit you. “guess i’m a sucker too.”

osamu let out a sigh of relief, overcome with joy as he couldn’t control his grin. with that look on your face, he almost wanted to kiss you right then and there. should he kiss you right now? no, osamu should ask permission first. couldn’t be too confident, right? or were you trying to say something with your eyes? god, osamu didn’t have a clue on what to do.

“can you two please just kiss already so i can get back to the party?”

you and osamu share a gasp. it was atsumu, no doubt about it. that bitch, you both think to yourselves. was he eavesdropping on that whole conservation? pause. now they both knew atsumu did all of this on purpose. he had a lot of explaining to do, that’s for sure.

without having to speak a word, you and osamu find atsumu in the hallway, both tugging him by his shirt and pulling him to the ground. your combined anger undoubtedly scared the shit out of him.

“you!” you grab the collar of atsumu’s shirt. “you set this all up!”

“i bet you don’t even like football!” osamu yelled.

“yeah!” you say in agreement without thinking.

“hey, i’m innocent, your honor! innocent!” atsumu raised his hands up in the air, squeezing his eyes shut as he anticipated one of you to start hitting him.

“no wonder you agreed to clean if i cooked!” osamu exclaimed.

“he agreed to clean?!“ you loudly gasp. funnily enough, that was the most shocking thing you’ve heard all day.

“listen to me, okay?!” atsumu forced your hand away from his collar. you take a step back and give him the chance to speak, although you were more than prepared to start swinging if need be. “i just really wanted you two to stop being wusses about your feelings. now you both know, all thanks to me.”

you and osamu soften up. even if it seemed a tad bit manipulative, neither of you could deny that it was actually kind of… sweet? all that cooking was a pain in the ass, but it brought you together and pushed you to admit your truths.

“i really do like you, osamu.” you say, looking into osamu’s eyes, not wavering for a second. there was no need for either of you to hide anymore. “since the day we met.”

“me too.” osamu replied, the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen plastered on his face.

“i sense a super emotional moment—” atsumu tried to say in the midst of his escape attempt. however, you grab him by the wrist, almost pulling his arm by his socket. “ow!”

“come here.” you pull him in for a hug, osamu too, practically squeezing the two to death. “you’re a pain, but thank you, atsumu.”

“can i go now?” he asked, trying his best to writhe out of your grasp. you were strong, atsumu couldn’t deny that.

“yeah, yeah. get outta here.” you scoff as you let him free.

atsumu mumbled some words over how it was “about damn time” on his way out, which sent you and osamu into a fit of giggles. once the laughter died down, reality set in. now both you knew that you liked each other, so what now? what else was there to do?

“so…”

“so..?”

“you think they’re all still waiting on that rice?” you ask awkwardly.

that was the last thing osamu cared about in this moment, truly. he waited so long for this, never thinking there ever was a chance. dare he ask you to pinch him would seem silly now. all he wanted to do now was finally kiss you without hesitating.

“oh, screw the rice.” osamu said, grabbing your hand as he pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. your hand that clasped his rested over his chest, his heartbeat thumping against your touch. has his heart always beat this fast in your presence for all this time, you couldn’t help but wonder. it was safe to say no one was getting their rice now, but neither of you gave a damn.

meanwhile, in the living room, atsumu finally returned, although with an irritated look on his face. he sat down in between bokuto and hinata, who were both curious about the food.

“hey, how’s the rice going—” hinata began to ask before being quickly cut off by atsumu.

“just watch the stupid game.”

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[mercury2venus]

“ and should our worst tendencies turn us into enemies.”

( honestly I feel like I always see Geto betray Gojo so here’s the opposite teehee.)

This is an AU btw. Here they were able to save Riko, they never failed the mission and Geto never lost his mind. they’re both teachers in this. ) Excuse any mistakes !!

(I was watching the best man recently lol and got inspired a little iykyk)

Blue is Geto speaking

Green is Gojo speaking

His best friend hid it well. He had to admit.

But ever so recently, Suguru has been paying closer attention.

There was something in Satoru’s eyes when he looked at Maya.

It was more than a glint, more than admiration no..this was different.

Suguru knew that look.

He gave it to her every waking moment of his day. As if she was the sun and he was irrevocably stuck in her orbit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The best friends sat in an empty classroom.

The atmosphere couldn’t be more tense.

“ How long Satoru ?” Suguru awaited his answer. Part of him wishing he was wrong and the other part trying not to crash out. Beforehand, Suguru asked Maya if she noticed Satoru’s longing gazes.

Of course she did. Yet, she ignored him. Paid him dust, kept it cordial and chalked it up to a man who probably didn’t have the proper love and care at home.

And with that Suguru felt like he needed to confront his best friend. Even if he wanted to cry.

“ You’re sitting there in silence and I’m asking you Satoru..how long have you been in love with MY girlfriend.” He said.

“ Since you met her. 5 years ago.” Satoru said softly.

Suguru froze.

“ You’ve been in love with Maya…for 5 years? And you said nothing? When were you going to tell me Satoru ? When a curse took my life ? When you’d comfort her at my funeral ? When Shoko cuts me open ?” He said in a panic.

Satoru was silent again.

“ Answer Me !”

Suguru clenched his fists. “ You’re the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo. The pride of the Gojo clan, with 2 legendary techniques. It places you above everyone else naturally. I’m 2nd to you, you know that right ? It’s hard to not live in your shadow and as your best friend I don’t complain, I want you to shine and grow. Be who the world needs you to be. But sometimes you’re nothing more than a spoiled rich kid who has never been told no, that grew into an overgrown man child. “

Suguru took a breather, then continued.

“ We’re close, I don’t think I’ve been closer to anyone else in my life. You’re my brother Satoru. I get it we share things but what was the end game here? Think we’d share Maya ? “

Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. Suddenly picturing his girlfriend. “ She’s uncomfortable now.” He said softly. “ She feels strange. Do you know she’s already uncomfortable being here as is ? She’s in a foreign country, is not a sorcerer, looks nothing like anyone here ! You’ve heard me vent about her family not accepting us or her longing to move back to America. What the hell were you thinking ?”

Satoru took off his glasses. Cerulean eyes lined with tears. “ I have no desire to go after her. I don’t know what my endgame is. But since we’re being honest I don’t know how to move on…not sure if I can. It sounds inconsiderate even insane but she looks at me like I’m just Satoru. Like I’m just me. I love her the same way you —

Suguru furrowed his brows, he couldn’t believe his ears right now.

“ Watch it.”

Satoru sighed deeply. He placed his shades back on.

“ What I’m saying is I’m sorry, for all of this.”

Suguru shook his head and walked towards the door “ Stay away from us, especially HER for now. I won’t ask again. “ he said.

Satoru lowered his head in shame, he agreed. “ Okay Sug I hear you. I will, I understand man. “

And with that the 2 strongest left their friendship right there.

Suguru was long gone when Satoru spoke aloud. Wiping his tears he whispered to no one in particular “ God this is the worst day of my life.”

[cupcakefactory]

How would Athena react to being proposed to? :> (You know who this is)

I dooo and i love you <3, thank you for letting me brain rot about my girl!! and i hope its everything you hoped it would be >-< (is this a hint btw? i'm feeling like its a hint LOL)

WC; 0.8k

Warnings: Named MC, but like.. you should have guessed that from the ask?

Now this was interesting to dive into, I have never really thought about Athena and her Love interest's engagement before – their marriages sure, but as I now know an engagement can be just as special. I have two versions of Mysme!Athena , whose story can be found in {Rewritten Reimagined}, and Lads!Athena, whose story will soon be available in {Under the Adjutants Thumb}. Although both stories feature her having a set love interest in ZEN and Caleb, Athena's backstory never changes (unless she romances Jihyun, in which case they never meet in the cathedral, she is just Saeyoung and Saeran's neighbor), depending on who is “end game” so even if she ended up with Saeyoung or Sylus she would have been raised the same – clearing that up may help you understand that she will react the same way no matter who is holding the ring.

Mysme!Athena is hard-headed, her life up to meeting the RFA, and in turn her love interest hadn’t been easy, she wasn’t allowed any respite before and it took a while for her to open up to the one she loved. She was born to parents who didn’t love each other, and was raised by people who believed love was being the sun for the other – neither of those were healthy examples. Athena didn’t know how to love, but realistically does anyone? Her job as an actress means naturally she is a bit loud, she doesn’t mind having eyes on her, while on stage that means you're doing a good job, so all her relationships take time, she clumsy and a little oblivious, years of reading scripts meant she had a fairytale idea of romance so didn’t even learn to pick up on the little hints – if you don’t spell things out to her she’s likely to hesitate and get things wrong. All this is saying, it takes a while to reach a proposal with Athena but when you do she’s secure in the relationship, there isn’t the earlier hesitation; she's happy and I do think it comes as a surprise. Did she want a wedding? Sure, but she also didn’t care if it never happened.

Mysme!Athena would be emotional, I mean that’s probably a standard reaction – it would have taken her by surprise, seeing the one she love fall onto one knee in front of her, eyes widening and breath hitching. Tears would brim her waterline as they spoke, the words not fully settling or registering for her. Someone who always had a snarky remark or comeback was shocked to silence by the one she loved being on one knee in front of her, telling her how much they loved her and that was more than enough reason for her to agree, she’d try to speak but the sob threatening to escape her throat would make it so all she could do was nod; throwing herself into their arms and making them topple a little; both of them laughing, both of them so deeply in love with each other that the proposal was just a formality.

Now.. LADS!Athena is different, she's quiet, shy, and not someone who enjoys being the center of attention. She was raised in an orphanage and spent more time alone than she did talking to others, her head was always in a textbook learning, and she didn’t have a clue about the outside world – I mean this girl assumed she was dying when she got her period because she didn’t know what was happening so romance is something.. very new to her. Athena had spent her whole life studying, and finally, finally, she achieved her goal as an adjutant for the Farspace fleet, and she was happy. A relationship wasn’t ever in her line of sight until she met the one she fell for – and god, did she fall hard. Athena had never been loved, and feeling it for the first time was intoxicating. She found herself researching everything and anything about relationships, and with her partner by her side she would slowly find a light in life – for the first time, she would let herself focus on something other than work. She knew very early on that she wanted to marry her lover, and she told them as much once they worked through that awkward shy spell.

Lads!Athena would be overjoyed when they got on one knee, it would be quiet – just the two of them, that’s the way it always had been. Athenas' love was quiet but fierce, so a proposal should match that. She wouldn’t hesitate to say yes, feeling her lover's arms wrap around her quickly before the tears even fell – but once they fell, oh boy did they fall. It was alarming how quickly her life had changed, and she found it overwhelming how she went from the shy girl no one cared for to the girl someone wanted to marry. No matter who arms she's crying into, Athena would be beyond happy to finally be loved and to love someone.

Please don't use my work to train AI!!

Find information about my commissions, requests and masterlist: HERE

[lavishl0ve]

🩸Johnny Slaughter x Fem Reader 🩸

! Part 3 ! (This one contains smut 👀)

Another part/continuation of my story, these parts can always be individually read but I do recommend reading the others b4 hand as I make some references throughout. (They aren’t needed to understand though). Enjoy !!

(btw I finally figured out font and stuff! Yay! so hopefully this is more appealing. still tryna figure this out lol)

Part 3: Stars

3 months… It's been three months since the cellar. Since that day, that conversation. With each passing day, each talk, I find my heart warming toward Johnny. Why? I don’t know. He sneaks me around most of the time, mainly just trying to avoid The Cook. Sissy and I are on good terms now after her apology. Well I mean if you can call it that.

“Sorry, but chu’ deserved it.”

Yeah. But at least it was something. Life on the ranch isn’t terrible. As long as I ignore what happens behind closed doors. I try to at least, the last thing I want is Johnny changing his mind about me. I sit on the stool of the beaten up vanity in the small room they gave me. No widows, constant splinters from the wood floor, and major dust. But it’s better than the cellar. But not much different since he locks it every night. I guess he can’t trust me yet. I wouldn’t either. I slipped into the silk nightgown Sissy gave me, three light knocks emerged from the other side of the door. I began climbing into bed looking behind me, Johnny cracks the door open.

“Johnny..?” I ask, “Why are you still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs.

I give him a light nod as I pull my covers back. He sighs.

“Come with me?” He questions.

I looked behind to see him, leaned against the doorway. He just watches waiting for a response, I pull my covers back up putting my pillows back into place walking towards him and give him a small smile. He scoffs in amusement leaning off the doorframe and starts walking toward the backyard. He opens the creaking door, unfazed anyone could wake and see us. The cold air immediately envelops my body. The silk isn’t helping much either. Grass tickles between my feet with each step I take, he leads us towards his shed again. Walking toward the old, white chevy he puts the cargo bed down and motions from me to jump in the back. He follows me shortly, I lay flat staring at the night sky, clouds clear, the stars twinkle in unison. It’s such a sight. Something so beautifully far away. I wish I could touch them. Johnny leans against the back of the truck, lighting a cigarette. I look up towards him and scoot back as well. He puffs his cigarette, then motions it toward me. The tobacco coats the inside of my mouth. I'd never like smoking but every now and then it’s okay. You pass it back to him.

“Aren’t they so pretty?”

“Hm.?” Johnny asks, hitting the cigarette again.

“The stars.”

Silence lingers for a second, his eyes are on you.

“I suppose’.”

You look at him, your eyes lock. You can’t seem to look away, his dark eyes bore into your soul. He licks his lips.

“Ain’t prettier than you though’.”

You blush looking away, he always makes small little remarks that end up with you being flustered. Hopefully he couldn’t see it (he can). He laughs, moving a piece of your hair to see your face.

“Naw’ I’m serious.” He raises his eyebrows.

He makes me face him. Oh god. His eyes are brewing, so desperate they dig into your stomach leaving a settling pit. We just stare. The tension, unbreakable. I breathe deep.

——————————————————————-

I stop at the door, lingering for a moment. I raise my fist knocking lightly. Three times. I wait for a response, nothin’. I unlock the door, she stands near the edge of her bed pulling the sheets back. Just in time. Her hair is brushed on one side, her eyes peek over.

“Johnny..?” she silently asks.

Fuck. Each time she says my name like that something turns inside me. So innocent, so blind.

“Why are you still up?”

“Mmm.” I growl, looking for an answer.

I only wanted to see her, be with her. Alone.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

She nods climbing into bed.

“Wanna come with me?”

She rises, the nightgown hugs her body, flowing like water as she approaches. No. Not yet.

“Cmon’.” I notion.

Walking down the corridor I hear her light steps behind me. I open the door towards the back. It’s cold tonight. I guide her towards the shed, unbuckling the cargo bed of my car that’s parked on the side. I climb in shortly after her. She lays there staring at the sky. I stare at her. The moon paints a perfect spotlight illuminating her face, the stars twinkle in her eyes. It only adds on more.

“Aren’t they so pretty?”

“Hm.?” I question.

Whatever she was saying before I hadn’t paid attention to. I get lost in her. What is happening to me?

“The stars.”

I don’t bother to look up, not like they could compare.

I give her slight agreement. She looks back towards me again. Those eyes, like a helpless deer. I can’t help but stare into them.

“But they ain’t prettier than you.”

She turns away flustered. I scoff. She becomes so affected by my words. I turn her face toward me. Her face painted red she stares at me in shock, like a lost bunny. A bunny that needs direction.

——————————————————————-

Fuck it. I wrap my hands around his neck and pull his face into mine. Our lips collide harshly, he ravenges for me, forcing me to crawl back against the side of the truck. He’s aggressive and eager. Was he waiting for this? I gasp for fresh air, he tastes like whiskey and smoke, it invades all my senses. He groans into my lips, then bites, breaking skin. I gasp in shock, Johnny savors the droplets of red that bleed from my lips. He drags his lips towards the nape of my neck.

“You taste so fuckin’ good.” he whispers.

My chest heaves and falls heavily as he hovers over me and glides his lips toward my collarbone, warm on my cold skin. He breathes in my aroma. Breath cold as he breathes out. His hand travels up my nightgown twirling the fabric of my panties in his index finger, slowly pulling it down. Another deep breath. He works his way down, shoving the silk fabric upwards, giving him access to all of me. He coats me with his tongue, rubbing against all my sensitive parts, light moans escape from me. I feel his smirk upturning against me. He takes his fingers and starts to work them inside of me, curving them hitting the best parts. Fuck. He was experienced. He watches me squirm, smirking at my pleasure.

“Shit-“ I moan, “Johnny…”

He nudges his face back into the nape of my neck, his hot breath against my ear-

“Fuckin’ take it.”

He speeds up the movement of his digits, I lift myself off the bed, arching in bliss when he suddenly pulls out leaving an empty feeling. I gasp lightly.

“Not yet.” He growls.

I watch him crawl backward, hand cupping my face as he inserts his thumb into my mouth, the other undoing his belt buckle.

“You look so damn pretty under me Darlin’.”

He throws his belt on the far left side of us, I look up at him expectantly, almost pleading. He strokes himself under his black boxers.

“Beg for it.” His voice penetrates me.

“Johnny.” My heart drops.

He turns his head slightly, squinting his eyes. They turn black, growing red with passion, pride, hunger- like he was the wolf and I was the prey. That’s what it was wasn’t it? But I'd rather be devoured than continue my life in fear, defenseless.

“I need you- so bad.” I whine. “ All of you.”

That’s all it took for him to crash back into my neck, kissing, marking, this time he bites down harder, canines digging into me, I whimper as he teases my entrance. I feel the warm liquid running down towards my chest, him licking each drop. I wrap my arms around his neck, digging my nails into his back trying to counterfeit the pain. He thrusts into me hard. Gasping for air, I melt into him. I become a mess of pain and pleasure, Johnny relishes in it. He picks up his pace, pounding violently, and rapidly. His thick shaft stretches me out with each enter and exit he makes. Hitting my clit each time he re-enters.

“Fuck-“ He pants. “So tight for me sweetheart.”

Moans unconsciously voice from me, I cover my mouth hoping to avoid disturbance. Johnny reached his right hand to drag my palms away.

“I wanna hear you scream for me.”

I stare at him lost in euphoria, he moves his hand grasping my throat, squeezing harder he leans into my face.

“Scream.” He threatens.

With each continuation of his thrusts agitation grows deeper toward my stomach. His hand cutting off my airway- the stars double overlapping one another. Vision becomes foggy, pain seeps from his inflictions, pleasure runs through my veins and wetness drips from beneath me. Climax approaches and I can't contain myself, I sob for his satisfaction. Relief washes over me as he cures my cries continually thrusting. His pace becomes quicker than before, eager to dig deeper into me, to split me apart- I push against his chest, overstimulated hoping for escape. He smirks looking down upon me.

“I ain’t done with chu’ yet.”

Pounding once more- my eyes roll, back arching into him, I grip onto his wrist holding my throat down, marking him with my nails once more. With a final thrust he collapses on top of me, releasing his hand- I gasp for air. The scent of sex fills the cold night as we both pant heavily. I stare up into the stars, the beautiful things I wish I could have touched. I reach out stroking Johnny's hair as he catches his breath above me, but maybe the beautiful things are in front of me.

[coco-bee]

DYNAMIC DUOS: RAGGEDY ANN & ANDY

Hey there! Coco typing... Welcome to my first addition to Dynamic Duos! Where I share my opinions and analyze fictional duos! (platonic, familial and etc) !! SPOILERS AHEAD !! Today's post is about RAGGEDY ANN & ANDY!! (from the 1977 movie)

So I have just watched the Raggedy Ann animated musical from 1977 recently and MY GOD as a film it's...interesting- IT WASN'T BAD THOUGH I ENJOYED MYSELF! I just expected a cute movie about a doll- then next thing I know a camel is hallucinating.. (you'll get it if you watched the movie) But the highlight for me with this movie is the sibling dynamic between Raggedy Ann and Andy! That's right people THEY'RE SIBLINGS! While I do get the confusion because of their interactions possibly seeming romantic but we gotta normalize siblings being nice to each other for once guys. So I want to point out how almost sickly sweet Andy is to his sister. He's always checking up on Ann and making sure she's ok. When Babette gets kidnapped Andy didn't give one fuck until Ann is worried not to mention he immediately comforts her when she's stressed.

He really does care for his sister's well being and just wants her to be ok. You can also tell he really loves Ann, take "No Girl's Toy" and compare it to "Rag Dolly" when it comes to Andy's vocals, in "No Girl's Toy" he's more sassy, witty and fast while in "Rag Dolly" he's much more soft spoken and slow with his vocals. Truly a sweet way of showing how much he loves her through singing. There's also the scenes in Looney Land (which I hardly see anyone talk abt btw). The second Lenard(?) makes a joke on Ann, Andy immediately stands up for her and tells him to back off and getting her to a much safer place away from these guys becomes his biggest priority. He's making sure NO ONE lays hands on his sister and makes a joke at her expense.

He's always so protective of her it's so sweet! DNCJENWD I'm bout to get diabetes But this isn't an "Andy caring for Ann" post- how are they like AS A DUO? Well Ann is just as great as Andy! She's always picking Andy up when he falls and just making sure he doesn't hurt himself. When a box is on top of Andy, Ann immediately asks everyone to help her get him out! I know she'd do that for anyone but it shows how much of a sweetheart she is. I also want to talk about this forest scene! Ann gave Andy a daisy during a time when he was not doing so well. That gesture really cheered Andy up and now he carries around that daisy for good luck! Ann's love language seems to just be simply showing how much she cares for people and how much she's willing to go far for him.

Even Ann is not aware with how her sweetness impacts people because when Andy's scared he remembers how there's his sister who loves him unconditionally and reminds him with little gifts and acts of service. These two really compliment each other! Andy protects Ann from harm while Ann gives Andy comfort through her own little gestures. Andy's willing to fight for her, Ann's willing to show him love. Not to mention she always keeps him in check when he speaks before he thinks. Like a soft spoken mother- someone has to keep Andy in check before he hurts someone's feelings In conclusion your honor- they're sibling goals <3

Thank you for reading! This is Coco typing and have a good day :D I'm open to suggestions!

[simpforchuchu]

Can I please request dating HCs for Nakagoshi or Nakaoka, The baby faction leaders don't get enough love imo.

Ooki Nakagoshi | General Dating Hcs

a/n: Hello! I really love our baby faction too 😭 God nobody writes for them and idk why 😭 They are amazing and the cutest ones 🤗 Soo thank you for this request 🌸 Hope you like it ❤️🌸

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: none

* At first we saw him as a very ambitious, wild and dangerous character. But his reaction when he found out that his friend was involved in stabbing Kiyoshi actually showed us that he's a pretty cool character.

* Someone who doesn't like dirty fighting and injustice, who wants to fight like a man

* Nakagoshi is an ambitious but mature character who is imperturbable, not afraid of fights.

* I especially think how much he has matured and his character has developed over time.

* -of course he is still our baby faction leader -

* He is handsome and has a very pretty face.

* He's good with girls, but he doesn't hang out with them like a playboy.

* I don't think he is overly flirty, someone who likes someone and then tries to get their attention

* Quite loyal to his friends

* In the last fight, we can see how much he cared for them and was a kind hearted person when he himself was injured to save Nakaoka and the others.

* He can fulminate quickly but doesn't act rashly

* He learned a lot from fights and experiences, so he is not naive anymore

* I don't think he would like someone too childish or too serious. I think someone calmer and cute would be his type

* A strong personality will impress him

* You don't have to be physically strong, he loves when you ask him to help you open the jars

* Or when you can't reach the top shelf, it makes him happy to get the plates there for you.

* I don't think it will be very difficult for him with a sensitive and emotional person. Nakagoshi gives me a very emotional vibe. Not a crybaby but someone who can get upset easily

* He's okay with you being crybaby btw, he's trying his best to hold you in his arms and calm you down.

* We know he has a unique style. Hip-hop style gives him a different vibe

* He likes to share his bandanas with you and admires you when you braid your hair and put them on.

* He finds your small body in his big cardigans very cute - those cardigans are too big for him too -

* He'll probably confess himself first and ask you out but if you do first, it's fine. I think he might be a little shy and be pretty cute

* Although he looks like a real Casanova from the outside, I think he is trying not to break anyone's heart

* A true gentleman

* Someone to open doors for you and hold your hand as you descend the stairs

* Although he believes that you truly love him, sometimes he thinks that he cannot show you enough love and wants you to remember it by buying gifts at such times.

* Someone he can be himself with is very precious to him. Even if it's not your style, he finds it sweet that you listen to his favorite music and try to understand it.

* I don't think he can cook. That's why he often comes to the balcony of your house to watch movies or have a picnic, taking food from outside.

* I think he's someone who gets cold easily, so he likes to put your hand in his cardigan pocket and hold your hand.

* I can imagine he likes sweets more. He always has little candies for you in his pocket - for himself too of course -

* It's very important to him that you love his friends, he sees them as his family and wants you to be happy with them too

* Most of the time he is very afraid of hurting you unintentionally or that someone will hurt you because of him.

* He often thinks about it by hugging you tightly

* He is surprisingly knowledgeable about your period and tries to remember everything he reads.

* I don't think he's very good at taking care of you when you're sick, but he's definitely trying. And he definitely ends up getting sick himself…

* He is reluctant to talk about his problems, so you have to push him. Because he's afraid to bother you

* He’s not afraid to cry next to you

* He lies to you when he fights, he doesn't want you to worry or be scared because of him

* But when that lie was exposed, when he saw how upset you were, he gave up.

* He can make mistakes but he's just a boy trying not to upset you

HnL taglist : @straysugzhpe @tiddly-winx @ninamarie1994 @thatpoindexterpixy @koala-yuna

[theempressofthenile]

CHANNELED READING : GODDESS ENERGY

So about a week ago, I asked a few of you guys what goddesses/queens you felt called too. I already had a few that were connected to this reading.

HERA. OCHUN. MEDUSA. HATHOR. ISIS. CLEOPATRA. BASTET.

If you feel connected to either of them, their might be something you need to know, as it could be a warning, an important lesson, something fortunate, a decision you must make.. etc.

In this reading however, I picked up on a lot of beauty symbolism, and sexuality. Embracing the feminine and the sacral chakra was another. It all bottles down to what we think of ourselves and what we feel.

HERA

If you aligned yourself with the Goddess of the Sky: The Queen of Goddesses, then you are in for a treat. Hera is associated with love, marriage, strength, and overgoing certain challenges that may force you to fly with your own wings. What you must accept in your life is that people may string you along, but that hate can strain itself longer if you let it. Don't allow cheapskates to dictate your worth, always allow yourself to move to higher dimensions as you are so much better than what another person's perception is.

For this group, I see you have a secret that you won't let anyone else know about. Its time to awaken your senses and get a little vulnerable with somebody. The sex is greater when you let go btw. You don't have to mask away your feelings, let them know wassup.

Never let a man see you sweat, ok? cool.

He don't need you, he just wants what he can't have.

OCHUN

Distance yourselves from sex, flings, and one and done men at the moment. You do not want that energy seething thru the emotional sector of your body. I promise you, you don't.

If you have to beg for him to do right, I wouldn't work on it. Just let it fly.

Mother Ochun wants the people who are connected to her to appreciate their value, their worth, their time and money. 'If they don't see it for them, then they don't see it for me' is your motto. Because if no support is on the table, then I'd just clean it off and make my own banquet. Don't bother asking them for money, just find a new way to bring the dough in. You can handle the new wing of financial opportunity coming in for you.

A blessing in disguise, be open to what might be your new calling. Embrace changes.

For the lovers, you might of met your match. Groomsmen. Pilot. Associates. Wine and laughter. This might be a good man, savannah. Don't let him wait, if you know he's a great man !

Medusa

Bittersweet transformation, as it doesn't mean goodbye, it just means something new coming in its honor.

'its me, dont run away'

my apologies to many of you that have gone through trauma, pain and resentment and it followed you all throughout the year. The pain doesn't diminish, it creates a voice that is asking for it to be saved.

You're only memory of good things comes seldomly, and you wait for more opportunities to wear you can feel something.

I see for this group, that whatever you've endured in the past does come to light, and in due time you'll have to fight fight for your spot in 'heaven'.

God, now let me explain to you what I mean.

You have gifts that propel you further out of timelines from everyone else. Seers, Witches, Oracles.. You kind of see things from a new millenium. There is also a seductress prowess here, but over time you shed its light to overcome the darkness. It worked for sometime but not for long.

You may feel disgraced, tired all the time, lonesome. Dangerous experiences with men or people in general. Playing on your light and leaving you dim. You may have self reflected on this once. But time and time again your experiences with people seemed pretty worrisome...

you have a lot of patience, its your gift.

Medusa comes up in the reading so that you guys can move on and get right with yourself. Get right with GOD. The internal/external.

Finding common ground and being a voice, a beacon, a champion. Someone people can remember. Could look up to.

Your experiences in the past are only a reflection of what your internally fighting, you'll learn more soon come. It takes patience, remember that. Don't let anyone break you, you have eyes that can see.

HATHOR

The Beauty Queens. Your sensual nature really needs more play time. Beauty rituals on thursdays , notice I didn't say friday, which is practically Hathors day. For SOME of you, beauty rituals on thursdays will enrich your sensuality and jovial nature. Having more practice on your ritual will bring more expertise and knowledge to the table. It is during that time you could research and bring things from the ethers to manifest desirable outcomes. Ask yourselves how you could be more of something, be it anything, and write down your thoughts, intuitively reading the energy and writing down whatever pops up. Observe it, and then use it as a form of study. THEN go for it. It's all about magic, practice makes perfect my dears.

Spas. New scenery. Delicate foods. Content creation. Awards. Ceremonies. Painting. < A few themes i picked up for this group.

There is a very talented energy I'm picking up from the shadows and you guys must put in more effort to improve them. For others, forgiveness is a theme as someone from the past could be coming back to awaken an old fling, or old stings. It doesn't hurt like before, so don't make too much noise. Just smile and listen. We all need to lend an ear.

Triumph & Taboos. Another small interp: It might be time to dig into some polyamorous love affairs, or simply going out of your comfort zone when it comes to love, sex, affairs. And yes, you own the throne here. You're the prized possession. Dont make em wait to long, they might catch on fire ;)

ISIS

'is it me that you are looking for'

Finding space during trying times. Having to relieve the self of worries or anything keeping you on overdrive. Its time to go somewhere that gives you the most peace, like heading towards a lake or something.

Going to a library and learning something new. Or experiencing new hobbies.

The sunset/sunrise could be your new calling. Going on a hike to catch them or simply just waking up early and having a new morning routine would be beneficial at this time. If you feel a connection to Isis during this reading, its time to let go.

CLEOPATRA

Divine Partnerships coming in. Soulmates kicking in to start up a new horizon. Adventures for the soul to enlighten itself once and for all. Could be romantic, could be platonic. You are called to be great.

BASTET

Cat rituals. Vocal talents. Perfume. Beauty. Threatening appearance. A word for the masses. Oracles. Tarot. Focusing on inner self/peace. Sanctuary. Meditative groups. Endeavor.

This group may have a different connection to the night sky. As in they can receive messages when looking out into the beyond. The moon gives messages to the psyche, and this group could meditate under the moon and get some insight.

Also a special connection to kittens may be coming up soon! Stay ready, it might be a surprise from the universe.

[povsshortstorys]

Patsy mount x reader

Tw - SA (kinda more of a hint of it the word is never said but suggested) , cuts blood injuries.

If you guys have any tips to improve my writing please let me know

Part 1 btw idk how how many parts I’ll do



You walk into Nonnatus's house, your hand turning white from gripping your bag so tight while the other holds your coat ripped and torn

You turn your head towards a small mirror, you can only see your face with dried blood just under your eyebrow and your right eye is swollen shut with a cut on your lip.

You can’t stand the sight yet, you can’t look away, and you don’t recognize yourself, it’s like someone is standing there looking at you, a stranger looking back at you.

Your mind goes blank for a second, then you realize you can’t let anyone see you like this, especially Patsy, oh god, if she saw you.

You don’t want to get upset, so you limp up the stairs heading towards your room, your ankle swollen.

You stupid, not even an hour ago, you were excited to tell Pasty about the twins you delivered, a boy and a girl. They were so cute, so innocent yet to be ruined by the world's hatred, the world's violence.

You shut your bedroom door, you start taking off your clothes slowly. It seems every time you move, a new pain appears in your arms, legs, and shoulders all over.

The red cardigan is left on the floor, you sit on your bed and try and undo your shoes, bending down your whole chest, it feels as if it’s on fire.

You sit back up, roll up your dress skirt and see a cut on the inside of your thigh. The tights you had ripped and torn, broken are deep and still bleeding.

You look over at your pillow more, specifically the pillowcase you could use to stop the bleeding, you reach forward and take it, fold it in half.

You place it in the cut. It needs stitches. You place the pillowcase on your leg and push it down, you let out a whine, close your eyes and let out a shaky breath.

*knock knock knock*

The door opens before you can react. It hides you. “I didn’t hear you come in.” You knew that voice you would recognize it everywhere. “Patsy goes away, you whisper out unable to go any louder.

A part of you wants to turn around and hold Patsy until you fall asleep. The other part of you doesn’t want her to see you like this.

Patsy sees the small bruising scuffs on the back of your arms and your hair is a mess. She closes the door. “Pats please”, you say your’ve voice breaks.

Patsy walks around the bed to you. Her chest tightens and her stomach drops when she sees you “Oh my love”. You don’t look up you keep your eyes down.

“Don’t you?” you say as Patsy reaches out for you trying to give you comfort. “Close your eyes” It was a simple request. you comply

“Breath” Patsy says as she gets down on her knees in front of you. “Can I see your leg?” Patsy asks you to move your hand away, slowly shaking as you

The pillowcase is left resting over the cut on your leg. Patsy reaches forward and removes the pillowcase and sees a 3-inch cut on your leg. It’s deep and needs stitches.

The bleeding slowed down. That’s good.

“We need to clean this up.” You open your eyes, Pasty gives you a comforting smile. “I think a nice warm bath will work, Is that okay?” Patsy asks you, nod your head.

“Don’t let anyone see me. I don’t want to be pitied, so please stop looking at me like that?” you say, holding your head up slightly to level your eyes with Patsy.

You’ve always been the strong one between you and Pasty. You help her through her nightmares and stay up late listening to her talk about whatever she needs to talk about, so her seeing you so vulnerable like this breaks her heart.

“I love you”, Patsy says, her voice, breaking slightly. “I love you too, Pats”. You say a small smile grows on your face. It hurts, but Pasty needs to see a smile.

Patsy wipes away her tears and stands up. “Right let’s get you in the bathroom. A nice warm bath will clean the cuts out.” Patsy is using her nursing voice now.

You try and stand up. you fall, but Pasty catches you. She holds you up. “I’ve got you” Pasty whispers. She pulls you close her hands are gentle and soft.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Patsy got you in the bathroom. She’s sitting you on the edge of the bath. “Can I unbutton you?” Patsy asks you to give her a nod.

She unbuttoned your uniform. All 5 buttons were undone with such gentle care, as she slid the uniform down you're arms. The new injuries revealed themselves.

Patsy holds herself together even though all she wants to do is sob and hold you and never let go.

“Leave up if you can,” Patsy says, trying to wiggle the dress under your butt, letting out a moan as you lift yourself up.

Now you sit on the edge of the bath in nothing but your underwear and your bra. That’s when Patsy sees bruising on you’re inner thigh.

Her voice gets stuck in her throat, fearing the worst “I didn’t let him”, you say, swallowing trying your best not to break down

Pasty reaches forward. Her arms go around your waist. Her head rests on your legs “I am so sorry”, Patsy says as she turns her head to kiss your leg.

“It’s okay, Pats, we’ll be okay,” you say as your hand reaches up and strokes her head. You know it hurts for Pats too.

With everything that happened in her childhood, you understand why she’s struggling, so you want to help her even though you're in pain.

[midnightstarshadow]

Hey, hey, guess what?

BPFT!Crescent's reference sheet is done!

(BPFT is my God au, btw!!)

I've never done a reference sheet before so idk if I did this right but I do like how it turned out

You can ask questions about him if you want, my ask box is always open ^^

Okay, now I'm gonna ramble about him so if you don't want spoilers for the fic, you may instead focus intensely on the rendered bit on the left and ignore the rest as well as the stuff under the read more :3

So the lantern glows blue because it's fueled by his magic rather than oil or something like that

Anyone who goes to the mortal realm gets one and it basically lights the path to the task they need to complete down there (Crescent doesn't have a real task tho so it's just a funny light)

Yes, he is wearing cloud pajamas, people tend to headcanon Nightmare's realm as eternally nighttime so that means you get to wear pajamas all the time when you're a demi-god living in his realm like Crescent

This is a medieval fantasy world, but the gates to the mortal realm are partially controlled by the God of Time and so the Gods get stuff from all periods because I fucked up when making Crescent's sheet and forgot to do research Fresh exists to be a menace

The outside of the cloak is fairly plain because the God of Fear is ironically paranoid and stealth is a must, however the galaxies on the inside of the cloak are real stars from Nightmare's realm and they move like a real night sky does (or they would, if I could animate that well)

Nightmare just kinda went "Lemme just pull some stars out of the sky for you" and turned it into a cloak for his son when he was sad one time and now it's Crescent's favourite :)

I spent like.... an hour trying to figure out how to make the stars before giving up and using this image from unsplash, which lets you use images for free. IbisPaint doesn't have many star brushes, unfortunately :(

Cross is there too, though I don't got his design fully fleshed out yet so take the silly little sketch of him

Even though the text is the same for their thoughts, they don't speak the same language

(It's only English for you guys)

Crescent only knows how to speak the Gods' language (which I'm gonna say is now Minecraft Enchantment Table lol) cuz that's what he was raised to speak (and to fuck with you guys <3) and Cross would be using Wingdings

Of course, when it's their perspective, it'll be regular letters for them and those fonts for the other so you get the full experience of a language barrier >:)

Cross wants to pay back Crescent by serving him after he saved his life but Crescent just wants a friend so he never asks for anything and that makes Cross a bit upset lol

He likes helping and can't convey that

Crescent wouldn't mind help tho but he kind of thinks Cross needs to rest after almost dying but he can't convey that either

They want to communicate but they can't lol

Oh! Oh! Oh!

I almost forgot!

Crescent can't travel during the day because his father's realm is the night and Dream unintentionally sends his aura across miles during the day

He wants to be the cool uncle but his aura is very overbearing, especially for a small demi-god :(

Crescent just pulls up his hood and pretends to sleep instead

Cross keeps guard :)

He does think Crescent is a God and that he's probably capable of watching his own back but he likes doing it anyway

[differentsublimephantom]

…… I did a thing…. Gay vampire and barista be upon ye! (Aka Larry the barista x Balthazar the vampire fic I wrote where Larry can’t find Balthie.) story under the cut :). (Ps, yes this story is canon to my tlm ask blog for Balthazar, @ask-balthazar-tlm, please please please ask him more questions!) ((this was reposted from tlm community here on Tumblr btw))

Larry was in a panic. Okay, maybe that was a lie. Larry wasn’t panicking. Yet. It was almost panic. He had lost his boyfriend. No, not in the “he broke up with me” way. In the “I can’t find him” way.

“Balthie?” Larry called for him. He checked all over the apartment. Balthazar wasn’t in his room, or his office where he worked on paperwork for the salon, or the living room, or anywhere else in the house! Larry had even checked the closets just in case!! The blue vampire was nowhere to be seen.

He finally thought of the idea to just text him. Maybe he had gone out to the store, and forgot to tell him? Nope. As soon as Larry’s text delivered, he heard a “ping!” On the coffee table. Balthazar always likes to stay in touch with his boyfriend, so he wouldn’t have gone out and left his phone at home.

Alright. Now Larry was panicking. He considered what to do next. Who could he go to? Was there anyone who might know where Balthazar went?? That’s when it hit him. Celeste and Augustus! Balthazar’s best vampire friends would certainly know where he’d gone right?

Ring…..ring……ring…….”hello?”

“Hey! Celeste! Do you know where Balthie is?” Larry asked, trying not to let his panic show through his voice. “No? Why? Did he go somewhere?” “I’m not sure? I checked all over the house, and I can’t find him. Called his name a few times, texted him, nothin.”

Celeste was silent for a few seconds. “Hmmm. Weird question. But have you checked the ceiling?” “The CEILING?” “Sometimes he likes to turn into a bat and hang off the ceiling fans.” “What.” “He likes to hang off the ceiling fans.” “…. Celeste?” “Yes?” “Are you telling me.. that I’ve been panicking… for HALF AN HOUR…. Because I forgot to look UP?” “Probably.”

Celeste heard a soft “oh god I’m such an idiot.” Over the phone and couldn’t stifle the laugh that came out of her. “Hey! It’s okay! You couldn’t have know. Between you and me… you’re his first human boyfriend. He’s a bit nervous to tell you about all the “vampire stuff” he does cause he doesn’t want to weird you out.” “Really?”

Larry processed that for a second. “He doesn’t ever seem insecure. I guess he’s good at hiding it?” “Yep. Good at hiding it. Don’t take it personally though! He’ll open up to you more after a while, promise.” “Hm. Alright. Thanks Celeste!”

Celeste heard Larry chuckle and say under his breath “I can’t believe I didn’t check the ceiling.” Before she said “your welcome Larry.” They said goodbye, and hung up.

“Okay…. The ceiling… sure.” Larry muttered. He checked the office, and the kitchen. Nothing. He went back to the bedroom and sure enough, he saw a small navy blue bat clinging to the fan above the bed. Larry thankfully held back his laughter, as to not rudely wake the bat up.

Instead of waking Balthazar up by laughing, Larry jumped up on the bed and gently poked him. “Huh? Wha- hmm? Oh!” Balthazar woke up and immediately fell off the fan, Turing back into himself mid fall. Now Larry couldn’t help but laugh. “Omg babe are you okay?” He managed between giggles.

“Err, yeah. I’m fine! Why’d you wake me up?” “Because I couldn’t find you for half an hour!” “It’s been half an hour?!” “Yes!” “Oh goodness… I’m sorry love! I only meant to take a quick ten minute nap! Half an hour..” Larry just chuckled again.

“Hey it’s okay! Just tell me when you’re gonna be on the ceiling next time, because I checked every room in this house looking for you, and for some reason I didn’t look up, so I just thought you’d disappeared.” “Oh dear. Yeah, I’ll tell you next time. Sorry.” Balthazar said sheepishly.

“I called Celeste and she told me you like to hang on the ceiling? Why didn’t you tell me? That’s not a big deal y’know.” “I know! It’s just odd…” Balthazar trailed off. “I thought you’d think I was weird or something. Sounds stupid I know. But still.” “It’s not stupid. And, believe me, I work in customer service. I have seen way weirder!” They both started laughing at that.

“Well, I’m not tired anymore. Wanna go for a walk?” “Ha! Sure.”