#my wife isn’t patient enough to deal with it so I just… have to….

[mobbu-min]

☆ marry you ☆

(ft. the housewardens)

It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you.

In which, he overhears how much you want to marry him.

a/n: despite all the requests i have, i find myself writing more indulgent fics -sigh-

tw: cursing

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ Oh dear, poor Riddle is beyond flustered. Hearing you so openly say how much you want to marry him and spend the rest of your waking moments with him makes his heart flutter and pound. Cheeks dusted a bright red and eyes dazed with a lovesick glimmer.

⋆ Riddle is beyond happy, yet incredibly nervous.

⋆ Marriage had been a thought that came to him occasionally. Seeing you in such a beautiful attire staring at him lovingly and saying you do. Wearing a ring he worked so so hard for. Kissing you lips to seal the deal, is something he would love to see.

⋆ Perhaps after he successfully gets his degree and starts his profession, he’ll indulge you. Get you the ring of your dreams and kneel in front of you in a garden of roses. Staring lovingly into your shocked gaze. A wonderful thought, no?

“My rose, although we are still young and still have much to do, I want you to know, in my heart and if life will allow it, my plan has involved you since the beginning. Ahem, in other words, please be patient, my dear.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ I feel like I say this all the time, but he’s a smug bastard!

⋆ Look, Leona has never thought about marriage, not that he’s like ‘ew, barf, marriage’ more like it's just not something that is incredibly pressing in his life. He remembers Farena and his wife’s proposal and wedding, and of course the countless of royal/nobel weddings he was forced to attend, but other than that, marriage was never a thought that crossed his mind.

⋆ However, when he began to go out with you, it had come across his mind once or twice. Especially on those days where the world seemed particularly against him and you wordlessly handed him food you lovingly prepared and fed him with his head on your lap. Or that one time, you asked him to teach you chess only for you to continuously fail and claim you’ll get better soon and the next week you came back with a smug look on your face and claim you’ve had help from the Chess Gods (riddle and youtube), only to get your ass beat again. Did that dissuade you? No, because you're persistent. Or the one time Leona had actually attended class and was bored as hell, only for you to tap on the window(successfully startling him) and telling him to meet you in five minutes at the botanical gardens. And the moment he arrived, you surprised him again with a cute little picnic and chess.

⋆ There, of course, were millions and millions of other reasons, but regardless, Leona wouldn’t mind marrying you.

⋆ And with enough persistence, he might just pop up the question sooner or later.

⋆ Too many things have slipped between his grasp, and he isn’t going to let you do the same.

“If you wanted me so badly, you could’ve just said so, herbivore. Ha, why so flustered? Cat’s got your tongue? Hm, c’mere…-yawn-…here, let’s get married.”

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ Runs to his office to bring up his 10 year plan to change marriage from year 6 all the way down to year 2.

⋆ Like this man has already booked everything you could possibly want for your wedding. Clothing, flowers, venue and food, music and guests. Hell even, the cleaners are all booked and ready. He’s been planning it since your third date.

⋆ Call him hopeful, or delusional, or just plain stubborn, but Azul is dead set on having you as his spouse.

⋆ Azul is over the moon, everyone can see his change in demeanor. So much softer, a lot more lenient and a little more eager to spend his time with you. This change is welcomed by everyone, especially the twins since they see Azul’s change as a new tool to get what they want and tease him even more.

⋆ Azul loves you, so much that it hurts. So knowing that you want him just as badly as he wants you, makes him swoon.

⋆ Lowkey immediately called his mom that he got engaged (even though he hasn’t yet). Literally kicking his feet back and forth as he talks about you. Pure adoration slipping off his tongue, sweet like honey.

⋆ And you better get ready, Azul is making his proposal as romantic and mind blowing as he can. An event neither of you can ever forget.

“Love seeing you today, my sea angel. My, did you do your hair? New clothes? Oh, I see you’re wearing the earrings I got you, how lovely. -ahem- Forgive for getting off track- hm? W-why am I so red? Ha…no-no, I’m not sick, sea angel. I simply have big news to tell you.”

Kalim Al Asim <3

⋆ The only thing stopping him from proposing outright is that he doesn’t have the ring he has under his pillow for you!

⋆ Oh and ofc, jamil’s there. (silently cursing you out and congratulating you simultaneously)

⋆ He wastes no time proposing outright. With the help of Jamil, he manages to plan an ideal and romantic time and place to declare his undying love for you. A lovely, fulfilling meal made by Jamil in the candlelit dining room of Scarabia followed by a stunning flight through the night clouds with the moon’s soft gazing gliding over you. And at the oasis, next to the bushes of blooming desert flowers and the warm caresses of the heat, does he pop the question!

⋆ Kalim literally cannot thank the world enough for bringing you into his life. You’re his everything! He swears his heart beats for you and only you. That his life never truly began until you smiled so brightly in his direction. His ruby eyes struck with a shameless lovestruck gaze.

⋆ Kalim truly has never been happier than with you. And knowing, he’s able to keep his happiness and ensure yours is everything he could ever dream of.

“Marry me! … Huh? Why are you hiding? ..oh! Haha, I can’t help it! I’ve wanted to marry you since the day we met! I know you're the one for me! …hehe, I hope I’m the one for you!”

Vil Schoenhiet <3

⋆ How bold of you. Already demanding a proposal from the Vil Schoenheit. Goodness, have you never been taught any patience? Very well, let's see what he can do.

⋆ Vil already has a pinterest board of your future ready to go. Everything ready from the smallest detail. Similar to Azul, nothing will ruin his perfect day.

⋆ Of course, Vil has thought about marrying you. Though not until much later in life, he wants to pursue his career more and the thought of leaving you alone for many nights, leaves him with an ill feeling in his stomach. Surely, you’d understand the pressure of being a high demand actor/model these days, right?

⋆ Either way, Vil’s stuck with the idea for days. Often dozing off to the thought of you holding a bouquet of carefully put together flowers standing near an open window basking in the sunlight. Your hair is put up with a simple flower decorating your ear. A smile stretched ear to ear as you beckoned him near. Fixing his suit and kissing his cheeks, giggling sweetly and whispering as if you were both a lovestruck teen couple sneaking out at night.

⋆ Then he thinks of coming home after a day of interviews, coming through the door of his shared penthouse. Seeing you setting dinner up, a domestic sight to behold. The beautiful amethyst ring that adorns your ring finger glinting in the warm lighting. Kissing his lips and helping him sit down in his seat, carefully undoing his hair and massaging his scalp. He’ll hear you talk about your day, about the cat you saw, about the traffic you encountered on the way back from work and the cute kid you helped at the park.

⋆ That thought sounds so appealing, like an apple, red and ripe, beckoning for him to bite.

⋆ Eventually, it gets too much. His heart pounds and yearns to see you wearing the ring from his dreams, the ring he’s already contacted the most experienced jewelry maker in the world to make.

⋆ He’s like a ticking time bomb, simply waiting for a chance to prove his love to his dearest star.

“I’ve never believed in fairy tales, I’ll have you know. After constantly staring in productions of famous tales, the amazement and wonder of them has faded away. That’s not to say that I no longer love them, I just realized that I’ve been living that fairytale life I’ve read so much about with you… Don’t laugh! …heh, I suppose it is quite amusing, huh? My star, will you make my fairytale come true?”

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ Literally crashes!!! Stops working and Ortho, my sweet baby, has to haul his lanky ass to the infirmary. Like, he acts like he got shot at, then electrocuted then told to go take out the trash.

⋆ On a more personal level though, Idia is actually really apprehensive to marriage. He’s seen how cold his parents are to each other. The silent dinners, the cold stares, the heartlessness of their touch. Nothing about his parents screamed a loving and healthy relationship. Perhaps when he was younger, more hopeful, did he dream of a day where he would whisk his one true love away and live happily ever after with them and his brother.

⋆ To him, marriage is scary. Like scarier than public speaking, or an ultra mega level boss that he’s severely under prepared for! (ahem-malleus-ahem)

⋆ But that was ages ago, and that dream had long since died. Accepting that he’s destined for a life of solitude. Rejecting all human feelings for a way to protect himself, his heart, from both harm and harming.

⋆ However, Idia finds out that he can’t. Despite him feeling less than human most days, he feels the most human when he’s with you. And as much as he hated it at first, he can’t deny that he loves the way his cheeks flare and heart dances at the sight of you.

⋆ And all of his favorite shoujo anime always guaranteed a happy ending for the main couple. And let's be honest, you’re obviously the main character and Idia's more than happy being your love interest.

⋆ Marriage, although scary and frightening, doesn’t sound that bad if you’re the one he’s giving his life too. Sharing a life with you is more than what Idia thinks he deserves.

⋆ But a life with you is a life worth living.

“Huh? What is it? It’s a w-wedding v-venue, ofc! I t-thought w-we could p-practice, y’know?….You like it! How long did it take? …oh, well Ortho helped me a bunch getting it ready…Oh! Before we start, we need to wait for Ortho to log into Minecraft. He wanted to be the flower girl.”

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ Babe, he’s been waiting for this!

⋆ Malleus has loved you since the moment you locked eyes. His heart was forever bound to you the moment you told him your name. Souls intertwined when you held him to your warmth. Fingers threading against his hair, and voice turned into a mere whisper as you proclaimed your love for him.

⋆ Malleus has loved you since the beginning and never once doubted it. Never once shied away from the thought of giving you his life. Malleus adores you and wishes for nothing more than to wake up every morning knowing you are his and he is yours.

⋆ A hopeless romantic, Malleus jumbles from proposing right then and there or giving you a night to remember. Ultimately going for the latter.

⋆ Similar to Kalim, he treats you to dinner then a stroll through a moonlit garden. Fireflies dancing around you both, humming and singing as they recognize the adoration and love swirling through the night air. Leading you to a clearing, he’ll dance with you. Twirling you around to the melody of his deep, soothing humming. Hauntingly enchanting. Bringing you into a sense of security.

⋆ His large hands caressing every part of your body. Pools of bright emerald gazing oh so lovingly at you. How he wishes he could immortalize this moment. In his mind, he works fast to paint down your sweet, endearing, expression to his memory. Each stroke of his mind crafting you so lovingly, never wanting this precious moment to end.

⋆ And of course, everything comes to an end. A sweet end for the night. One filled with joyous tears and hopeful laughter. A bright future ahead of you both.

⋆ A future Malleus is willing to fight for to ensure.

“This color will suit you perfectly, darling. Such a beautiful design for such a beautiful soul, no? Don’t shy away from me…See, such a pretty expression. Please, allow me to bask in every expression you’ll ever make, my treasure.”

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 20 - response - 2623 words - nsfw content!

about love against all odds feat. injury related prematurely retired football player james that settled and raised a son and international football star regulus

for regulus pencil mustache truther @veryinnovative, my football (players) loving wife @rottin6 and my number 1 enabler @itmeanssungod

James is kneeling behind Harry on a picnic blanket with Lily when their last guests arrive. “There they are!” Sirius’ voice carries easily over the meadow and just as expected a few seconds later there’s a big, black scrub of a panting dog in front of them, curious to see what Harry and James are up to, which is flying a kite. 

“Oh my God– Hi!” Lily says, getting up. Which is a bit enthusiastic for the fact that they’ve seen Sirius and Remus only last weekend and should have been James’ first clue. Though, admittedly, he was a bit busy angling the kite and also angling Harry’s face away from Padfoot’s butt to avoid suffocation.

“Moony couldn’t make it today unfortunately,” Sirius says, closer now, “but I’ve brought substitution.”

James isn’t proud of the way his entire upper body whips around, Harry included, who lets out a small yelp at the sudden motion. “Sorry, mate. Sorry. I’m—”

Lily is already there to take over, nudging James to get up who’s working very hard on closing his jaw and not staring like an idiot.

Because standing there besides his brother is Regulus. Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, paired with a simple back t-shirt and green Adidas trainers. He does not look like he belongs onto a colourful picnic blanket in a park in London yet there he is.

He’s sporting a pencil stach now. Regulus had been convinced Sirius had already used up all the genetic material for pronounced body hair on the first way around, leaving behind very little for his younger brother. James, being on the hairier side as well, used to tease him about it endlessly back when they were in school. But it seemed to develop now in his late twenties. James has only seen it on the TV in a few matches and on one or two instagram posts but the real deal is even worse. Regulus looks criminally hot with it. The whole picture of lithe muscle, strong quads and stronger calves, curly hair, the occasional tattoo. He’s every young heterosexual woman’s wet european football boyfriend dream and James’ gut is swooping.

“Reg.”

“Hi, James,” Regulus responds, much more articulated, sporting a hint of a smirk. 

Oh, he— “Bastard,” James mutters, low enough so Harry behind him won’t hear and then he’s grinning and yanking Regulus into a firm hug.

They all have a late lunch together at a nearby restaurant and Regulus is patiently letting Harry talk his ears off about Ninjago and preschool and Ron and Moine. Lily is taking him over the weekend and James bids his goodbye with a loud smooch to his son’s cheek. 

And just as James is about to invent a crazy, elaborate story about how he has something back at his house he’d meant to show Regulus for ages without making it interesting enough for Sirius to tag along, this one simply taps two fingers against his eyebrow in a mock salute before making his way in the other direction, Padfoot trotting along dutifully. “Why do you think I hid him from you all Thursday? Have fun, kids!”

Regulus groans pathetically and turns to hide his face into James’ shoulder.

“I told you we can’t keep it a secret from him forever. He probably knew all along,” James chuckles and takes Regulus’ duffel, “C’mon, love.”

It starts in the elevator up, is a wonder they make it past the hallway and into the bedroom. It’s very much overdue and heated and desperate all the way through. 

James might or might not have pinned Regulus one too many times into the mattress and offhandedly commented something along the line’s of Regulus being his and cuffing him to the bed if he needs to. And it’d worked because Regulus had moaned so prettily, eyelids fluttering and hips bucking, cock twitching and all James could think about then was where’s the fucking lube.

Saying that, he doesn’t quite expect Regulus to bring it up after the fact.

James is absolutely blissed out, breathing only just levelling out as he traces the shape of Regulus’ kiss bitten lips.

“You know I can’t stay, Jamie.”

He shrugs easily, kneading Regulus’ muscled thigh where it’s slung over his hip, “We’ll come with you then.”

“To Portugal?” Regulus’ eyebrows rise as he props himself on his elbow, his tone flat. “And then to France in a couple of months when I switch clubs? I don’t think that’s such a good idea given Harry is five.”

“Au contraire—”

Regulus rolls his eyes and slaps him on the naked shoulder. “Moving every few years? And during the nationals not to mention,” he tucks an errant strand of hair back from James’ forehead, “Multiple continents, who knows which timezone. That’s no life for a child, James. And I haven’t even brought up Lily yet. She’s just as much part of his life as you are and it works out wonderfully for the time being with you two living so close. It’s what Harry deserves.”

And deep down James knows Regulus is right. And if he’s completely honest with himself, it isn’t the life he truly wants for himself either. That’s why he’s here and Regulus is out there. James knows it isn’t what’s best for Harry nor for himself and yet. And yet no matter how many times they have this conversation it seems endlessly irrelevant when Regulus is looking down at him this way. The shine of the sunset through the window is catching in his pillow mussed curls, in the dark lashes framing his blue silver eyes and rivalling the flush of his skin with its own red hue and James thinks Regulus looks like home. Like anything he could still want in life besides what precious he already has.

James heaves a heavy sigh and hungrily swerves his eyes over every single of Regulus’ features, committing them to memory. Because that’s all that’s gonna stay when Regulus inevitably leaves again. But that’s not what James wants to think about right now though.

“Regulus.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” James replies happily and pulls Regulus in by the back of his nape before his indignant expression can even fully form. Every single one of Regulus’ helpless sounds get swallowed eagerly and filed away for later. For a moment James is tempted to ask Regulus if he can get out his phone and record but he thinks better of it.

They have sex for hours. 

James sucks all coherency out of Regulus through his cock and then fucks him so stupid, legs spread and pushed into the mattress, spit pooling out of the corner of his mouth, tears wetting his cheeks, cum smearing across his stomach, that he gets him to promise to stay. It’s futile and just a heat of the moment thing but it drives James so wild he almost blacks out when he eventually spills deep inside of him. There’s black dots and stars dancing in his vision when he watches it leak back out of Regulus’ puffy hole and a strange sense of satisfaction and dread mixing in his belly. 

After a quick entangled and still very much nude power nap James arranges them a platter of fruit and crackers and cheeses. They shower and James changes the sheets only for Regulus to prop himself up on his side and watch intently as he edges James until he’s the one whining and crying. He’s using ridiculous amounts of lube, his hand is so warm and slick and squeezing just right and his thumb is swiping teasingly along the slit exactly how it makes James go insane and then he’s taking his hand away and James curses, already feeling another tear running down his cheek. His thighs are trembling, his knuckles turning white where he’s clinging to the headboard. Regulus is staring at him out of lidded, expectant eyes and James’ dick is aching and it’s all so sick and hot James has to bite his tongue hard not to tell Regulus he loves him right then and there. 

He’s shown mercy, at last. Regulus makes him cum down his throat and over his face, there’s milky white running down the side of Regulus nose and James pulls him in with shaky arms for a downright nasty kiss.

They sleep until 2pm the next day and have a lovely, slow day bickering in the grocery store isles, preparing dinner together and not at all watching the movie that’s on the TV while they make out and frot on the couch like teenagers. Like back when they were teenagers. 

Sunday morning Lily brings Harry before she’s heading out to brunch with her FLINTA boxing club and James’ heart riots in his chest when he watches how easily and adorably Regulus and Harry interact. 

They meet up with Sirius and then drive Regulus to the airport together.

Goodbye is a bumpy thing. Harry is pure popcorn caramel sweetness between Regulus’ knees when he crouches down to hug him and James’ embrace, he knows, is much longer than socially acceptable. He vaguely notices Sirius distracting Harry, babbling to him about the stuffed toy assortment from a nearby shop as Regulus and James hold onto each other like they’re in a long distance relationship and not…well, whatever it is they can afford to be with Regulus visiting the country about three to five times a year.

There’s a fist clenched in the soft material of his t-shirt and James buries his nose in the curls of Regulus’ temple and inhales deeply. A spot he’s going to see sweat soaked on a flat screen and not getting to smell or touch or kiss for the unforeseeable future. At least that’s what he thinks for now.

Eventually they part and after a strong, swaying hug from Sirius and a few words about making him proud out on the field and seeing that physiotherapist about his shoulder and a safe flight Regulus is gradually disappearing into the distance with the grating velocity of your standard airport escalator. James doesn’t know who thought it was a good idea to be able to watch a loved one slip through your fingers at this agonising tempo but he’d like to have a word with them. His heart clenches in his chest, his lip already feels raw from worrying it with his teeth and James thinks, the warm weight of his son pressed to his chest, that, even though it might not seem that way, Harry is probably more holding him right now than the other way around.

And life’s a funny thing sometimes. 

Because, like every time when Regulus bids his goodbye, leaving behind not exactly shards but rather yet another pin in James’ heart, wrapped around by a red string Regulus indisputably, invariably takes along across the ocean every time, it bleeds and burns and burns so badly that they get ice cream. Sirius slaps him between the shoulder blades, pays for his chocolate mint and hazelnut, tells him he’s such a dad for his choice and, together with Harry, tries distracting him as best as he can manage. 

And so begins a week of moping and then one and a half of delusion and overcompensation, full of fun trips and adventures, and then another few of avoidance, full of social media free zones and grinding through work and scheduling all kinds of appointments to fill their freetime until—

Until one day he can’t avoid it anymore.

A bright, blinking LED sign in the form of an incoming call on his phone screen that’s making James’ heart stutter in his chest. He’s just sat back down in front of his computer in his home study after lunch break and started wiggling an USB stick into a port when the vibrations had made his head shoot up.

It’s just the three letters of Reg and a silly photo of when he was seventeen, pulling a face at James taking a picture of him on his digital camera.

Regulus never calls.

James isn’t sure he’s breathing.

It’s barely been about two months, not close to visiting time again, and Regulus usually never calls so James sits there absolutely dumbstruck and convinced the universe is pulling a sick joke on him.

The call ends abruptly and James blinks harshly. He fumbles for his phone and clicks into his call history. Incoming call from Reg in red font, signalising it’s been missed, followed by the exact time of the day it is at the moment. 

James presses on the little phone icon.

It only rings once before there’s a voice on the other side of the line.

“James?” Regulus sounds slightly breathless. James hasn’t heard his voice over the line in about seven years.

“Yeah?” James says back. His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Then James realises he should probably say something more. “Err, Hi. I’m—” he sighs, clicks his tongue, clears his throat, tries again. “Did you just call me?” “Hi,” Regulus says back, still breathless and it sort of sounds like he’s smiling. James blinks again. “Yeah, yeah. I did call.”

“Oh,” James makes. His heart does a little spin in his chest. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m coming to England,” Regulus declares, giggling. James’ heart tries to leap out of his chest at the sound.

“Cool, cool. You got another away game?” He winces, closes his eyes, “Sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with your matches lately.”

“No, James, I’m– wait. Okay, rude, first of all—”

James snorts and rolls his eyes, now grinning against the phone as well. “Sue a guy for being heartbroken.”

“Yeah, I just might,” Regulus quips. “But…what I was initially going to say is, No, James, I’m not having an away game in England.”

“No?” James asks, confused. Nationals are still a while away so that can’t be it.

“No. I’m having a home game in England,” and James wonders how something so soft spoken can pack such an ear-ringing gutpunch.

“I’m— Regulus, what,” James stands up, his chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floor. “Are you saying…”

A single chuckle works its way out of Regulus and over the line to James, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

James’ heart is sprinting away from him. He’s sweating. His breath is coming faster and he feels like he should run a lap around the property. Or six. “Regs, love, please spell it out for me because I’m not entirely sure I just hallucinated what you—”

“Arsenal made me an offer,” Regulus says and James hears angels singing in the background, “A better one.”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” James pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, “Reg, I swear to God if you’re joking right now I’m personally flying over and—”

An exasperated noise, grin evident in his voice nonetheless, “I’m being honest, James, God’s sake. You can fucking look it up online, they probably already posted about it.”

A breath punches out of James, he sinks back down into his desk chair. There’s a polaroid of him and Regulus from Halloween a few years back, alien and a scientist. It was a fucking mess scrubbing all that green paint off again and it didn’t help that Regulus abandoned his sponge in favor of grabbing at James’ hardness through his briefs. It had been the first night they kissed since they were teenagers. 

With a sudden clarity, all the tension floods out of James’ body with a slightly delirious laugh and he leans his cheek into the warmed glass of his phone screen, “You’re coming home.”

Regulus sounds equally giddy, equally drunk on love and fate. “Yeah, Jamie, I’m coming home.”

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 4] Sayo's Insistence

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“Excuse me.” Sayo says, making you look up at her. You hold back on rolling your eyes, far too busy and tired to deal with anyone. You wait for her to speak, but she takes too long for your liking, so you end up asking,

“Can I help you?” You ask, trying your best to hide the annoyance in your voice but it still reflects. She luckily doesn’t notice it, or doesn’t care enough to address it. You don’t mean to be rude to her but so much is going on and you have no idea how to deal with it.

“I want to go out this weekend and get to know my husband’s friends a little more… Would you care to join us?” She offers, and you end up sighing before a fake smile appears on your lips. You end up shaking your head.

“I’m sorry, I’m quite busy on weekends. Your mother-in-law keeps me busy.” You answer, and you hope that’s enough to keep her off your back. But it isn’t. She still stands at your desk and she ponders your responses for a moment.

“I’ll talk to her.” She responds, and before you insist that she shouldn’t, that you’re not in the mood to go out. If you get a day off, you’ll spend time with your son, certainly not with Satoru and his wife. You know that you’ll get a message from Mrs. Gojo later, and she’ll give you the day off. 

“Mommy…” Ren taps your face to wake you up. His morning breath hits your nose. You scrunch your nose while your hand goes to cover his mouth as your eyes slowly open. You finally take your hand off his mouth when you sit up. You look at the clock that’s in the corner of your nightstand, and you’re definitely not late for anything. In fact, you don’t have to start getting ready yet. You have around three hours to go. 

“What’s up, baby?” You ask him, your hand going to his soft white hair and caressing it.

“I’m hungry.” He informs you as a yawn leaves your lips. It causes him to yawn as well and you chuckle. You stand up from the bed and begin to walk to the bathroom. He begins to follow, which is something that you quickly got used to. The moment Ren began to walk, he followed you everywhere which meant you no longer had any sort of privacy.

“Brush your teeth.” You tell him pointing at the little stool that’s in front of the sink, which was put there to help him reach the sink. The tip of his tongue sticks out as he remembers to follow every step of what you’ve taught him: wet the brush, apply some toothpaste, wet the brush again, then smile as he brushes his teeth.

When you’re done, you wash your hands and when you finish washing your hands, he’s done brushing his teeth. He steps off the stool and patiently waits for you, sitting on the bathroom floor as you brush your teeth and quickly wash your face. You dry your face with a towel and then walk out the door, not saying anything because Ren just follows behind.

“What do you want to eat, Ren?” You ask him as you walk to the kitchen. You have more than enough time to make a big breakfast, so you can give him whatever he asks for.

“Waffles… and yogurt.” He answers. So you’ll give him that for breakfast, along with some fruit. You open the fridge to grab a cup of yogurt for him, so he can eat it while you prepare the rest of his breakfast. You give him a strawberry yogurt with a blue plastic spoon while you begin to make the rest of his breakfast.

“Do you want to do something fun this weekend, honey? I’m off this weekend.” You inform your son, and he puts a finger to his chin, pouting his lips. He begins to brainstorm what he wants to do instead of eating his breakfast. While he thinks about it, you try to think of how you’ll deal with Mrs. Gojo, Satoru, and Sayo. Mrs. Gojo didn’t give you the weekend off out of her goodwill; you’re not sure if the woman knows of that word.

“Can we go to the park?” He asks and you hum in response. He smiles brightly before he realizes something… He doesn’t know when it’ll all happen. “When’s the weekend?”

“In three days, Ren.” You respond, and after hearing the answer, he continues eating his yogurt. As you make the waffle mix, you hear your phone ring from the bedroom. You look at the boy who puts his spoon and yogurt down to run to the bedroom and grab your phone for you. You chuckle at the amazing helper that the world gave you. The phone stops ringing, and you assume that he picked it up, and it’s confirmed when you hear,

“Hello?... Hi grammy!... Mommy’s in the kitchen… Yes.” And then he comes running out of the room, holding your phone, yelling, “Mommy, grammy is on the phone.!”

You take the phone from him and bring it up to your ear. You roll your eyes when you hear her voice. “I need you to pick up some dry cleaning as soon as possible. I’m giving you the weekend off so I need you to come early these next two days.”

“Alright, Mrs. Gojo. I’ll be there as soon as Ren’s nanny gets here.” You answer before hanging up on her. You’re sure you’ll get an earful from her for hanging up instead of waiting for her to do so, but you don’t care. You call Ren’s nanny and inform her of the change of plans, and of course she replies quickly because two days ago she showed up late to her job; she has to make sure it never happens again. She’ll be there in around twenty minutes. “Okay, baby, I’ll have to leave soon.”

“What about my waffle?” He asks.

“Of course I’ll make you your waffle, honey. I can’t leave you without your desired breakfast.”

You walked through the Gojo estate’s front door, a frown on your face since your breakfast was cut short by Mrs. Gojo. You hate to admit the fact that you put in a little more effort this morning dressing up: putting on a little more makeup, wearing cuter heels and putting on your cutest work outfit. 

After seeing Satoru and Sayo two days ago, you knew you wouldn’t bump into them again. You know Satoru is too much of a coward to go to your floor. Mrs. Gojo also had lessened your workload for her, and you completed everything during your lunch break, coming around at a time that you knew Satoru wouldn’t be around. But you’re certain that he’s here right now.

He’s probably in the backyard, eating breakfast with his mother and wife on the patio, just like when he was a kid. You remember always watching from a window as Satoru was forced each morning to eat breakfast with his mother and father– He always complained to you about it because he had to follow a bunch of dumb rules about eating properly.

You walk to the kitchen of the house, planning to leave the dry cleaning with one of the maids before leaving. You dressed up pretty just in case you saw Satoru, however, you don’t plan on interacting with him. And just as you’re about to hand the dress to someone, she says,

“Mrs. Gojo wants you to go to the backyard. She wants to talk to you.”

“Alright.” You shut your eyes for a moment before walking away. A sigh leaves your lips, and your nerves grow with each step you take. You try to think of what you’re going to say. You quickly spot them when you step outside, and you freeze. You squint as you look at their direction as you try to figure out if the extra person that sits with them is the same man that was Satoru’s best friend for years.

He yells your name and stands up to hug you when you get closer, and a small smile, one that you try to suppress, comes to your lips when you feel Suguru’s arms wrap around you. Suguru was always so sweet to you, and it’s nice to see him again after so many years; and his demeanor hasn’t changed either which you love. He asks, “How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I’m good. How about you? Are you a doctor now?” You respond, and he nods in response. You stare at each other for a moment, looking at how time and age has changed you. Mrs. Gojo clears her throat a minute later.

“Suguru is finishing his residency soon. That’s what he told us.” Sayo speaks up, and Suguru takes a seat again. “Please take a seat as well. I asked my mother-in-law to invite you.”

“I already had breakfast, sorry.” You lie. You’re hungry but you don’t want to sit down with them and eat. ���I should get–”

“It’s way too early to go to the office.” Mrs. Gojo cuts you off. You glare at her for a short moment before your eyes fall on Suguru because you don’t want to look at anyone else. 

“You know what they say, Mrs. Gojo, the early bird gets the worm.” You respond. Sayo, Suguru and Mrs. Gojo stare at you while Satoru tries to look somewhere else. He makes it painfully obvious that something has happened between you two but thankfully his wife is so focused on other trivial matters to notice just how awkward he is.

“There’s no worm for you to catch here. Join us.” She says and it’s an order even though she tries to disguise it as a request. You have no option but to sit at the table. “Are you joining Satoru and his friends this weekend?”

“I’m busy.” You answer. The past couple of days you’ve realized that you somewhat have part of the upper hand. If Satoru finds out that his son was hidden per his mother’s request, he’ll definitely cut her off. However, you know you aren’t in full control. You still have to follow Mrs. Gojo’s orders, but you don’t have to act like you’re happy to do it. You can give her some attitude.

“Really? I gave you the weekend off.” She points out.

“Ren needs attention.” You respond, and Suguru’s eyebrows raise.

“Who’s Ren?” Suguru interrupts.

“A cat.” You answer, and Mrs. Gojo is thankful about the fact that you spoke up first because she was about to call him a dog. Suguru is still a bit confused but he ends up nodding.

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t pay attention to your cat, but it’d be really fun if you’d join us.” Suguru says, and Sayo is quick to agree.

“I really want to see all of my husband’s childhood friends. I really want you to join us.” Sayo sounds so sweet, and she’s making it impossible for you to dislike her. “Isn’t that right, Satoru?”

“Right…” Satoru is forced to speak up and agree. He actually speaks more, which takes you by surprise, “We’re just going out to dinner and after we’re going to a club. You can join us only to eat… Of course, we’re paying for everything.”

The last sentence stings. He’s insinuating that you can’t afford it, and he probably isn’t wrong but you hate it.

“She’s going, honey. Don’t worry.” Mrs. Gojo puts on a fake smile, her hand wrapping around your arm and squeezing. You don’t understand why she insists, having you go out with Satoru and his wife increases the possibility of them finding out the truth.

You want to say a couple of things, but you know it won’t end well. You end up sighing, before you stand up from your seat, “I have to go now.”

“Why doesn’t she like you? Weren’t you two friends?” Sayo half-whispers when you walk away. Satoru ends up shrugging while Suguru chuckles after hearing the question. She sees Suguru laugh and she asks, “Do you know?”

“No idea.” Suguru responds. After a moment of incredible awkwardness, Satoru clears his throat.

“Let’s change the topic.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Our beloved and stoic ror men with pregnant reader that keeps them on their knees lmao, like, chief god Odin being grabbed by his now moody s/o by the collar of his shirt because she asked for his opinion about something and she thought his opinion was not thoughtful enough, or Poseidon suffering the consequences of questioning his wife's cravings out loud and she snatches his trident in a heartbeat to point it at his neck with the deadliest glare and darkest aura he has ever witnessed….. even Lu Bu getting his ass kicked by his wifey 🤣😭 with all of them she would be like “I deal with whole body pains, the worst morning sickness 24/7, my clothes don’t fit anymore and on top of that I have to deal with your incompetence too!”

-Early on in your pregnancy you and your husband, (Love), had been warned that you could have some fluctuations in your emotions as your hormones were out of whack since you were growing a whole person inside you.

-You had both been lulled into a false sense of security during your first two trimesters, as you weren’t overly emotional, only when you were hungry or tired, as you were quite tired throughout your whole pregnancy.

-The third trimester is when you became a different person, snapping at others, glaring, fully ready to make heads roll if someone just looked at you funny.

-Your husband was a trooper, taking your verbal abuse, as he knew this wasn’t the real you- this was the baby you were carrying that was making you like this.

-Odin- Looking up at you as you held his beard, glowering down at him, he was quite impressed- you were quite intimidating when you wanted to be. He went and got you ice cream, getting you exactly what you wanted, but you felt like he was treating it like a chore, not being happy to do it because he loved you. You were so cute when you got feisty like this, but he was smart enough to not say anything- he wasn’t stupid to do anything intentionally to upset you.

-Poseidon- He is the most patient man in the world, but only when it came to you. He was relieved you were calm until your last trimester. He takes all of your mood swings with no hard feelings; he will take you yelling at him then hugging you while you cry for getting so upset. He does his best to keep you happy and give you whatever you want, to keep you as calm as possible, as anger and stress isn’t good for the baby.

-Lu Bu- He adores your mood swings, finding them amusing, but he tries not to laugh or poke fun at you, as you were quite violent when you got riled up, and he didn’t want to risk any more lumps on his head. Tries his best to keep you happy but nothing seems good enough; like you want fruit, he brings you fruit then you cry because he didn’t get you the right ones, despite you only telling him fruit. He’s grateful you’re almost there and he can have his normal Y/N back.

[pixeltwix]

Life After Divorce for Emma May

For awhile now I’ve struggled to figure out what job Emma May could’ve taken up after the divorce as for so many reasons this is SUCH a messy topic.

Firstly, do y’all ever think about how the only reason Fiddleford was even going to Gravity Falls in the first place was to secure more money and provide a better financial future for his family (something he’d always dreamt of doing) only to then lose his memories, leaving the family in shambles, and ultimately leaving them in a worse financial situation with Em as a single mom?? Cause I think about this ALL the time-

To me it only makes sense that Fiddleford would marry someone just as lovely and sweet as him, but also someone who is tough enough for both of them. Let’s all nod our heads and agree that Fiddleford is a pushover and a major people pleaser. Most of his kindness to Ford is him outwardly wanting validation from an old friend he admirers because otherwise he feels useless and unintelligent. Ie Fidds whole, ‘I’m the builder, if I’m not building something than I’m useless’. So when he becomes too exhausted to build and Ford grows frustrated with this he tries to make up for it with gifts etc :,). That paired with some chronic anxiety is a recipe for a man who needs someone who can understand that and is willing to help him- his wife. mutually patient and kind as he, is happy to be that for him.

Regardless as far as her career goes, smart as she is, I don’t see her as book smart? Rather people smart? Emma May knows how to talk someone up, knows how to make a deal, knows how to defuse a situation, and could probably sell someone their own shirt off their back. Perhaps that could stem from the cult background I explain here and here, but regardless she’s witty in conversation and great at pretending she’s an expert on something she’s never heard of.

Naturally I thought sales would be a good place to put her, maybe rise the ladder that way? One of those late night tv marketers? But it didn’t feel like enough? The 80’s were a prime time for women to put themselves into the workplace, incredibly toxic as the environment was for them it didn’t stop women from being excited to be there. Ironically it’s the perfect time to divorce? Even if she didn’t want to, after the giant homicidal pterodactyl robot it sort of felt like a, ‘even if I still love my husband, if I value me and my sons life, I have to do this’ sort of thing

After taking that into consideration I thought ‘honestly bigger is better’ so I brainstormed harder to figure it out. And after a few lengthy rabbit holes I believe I figured it out. While Fiddleford acts as sort of the Bill Gates of the Gravity Falls universe I thought ‘who’s someone else deeply recognizable in Americas pop culture, but tv related?’ And then it hit me, ‘oh my god what if Emma May acts as the Oprah of the Gravity Falls universe? The Emma Dixon Show?’ (In the sense of a beloved tv personality that unexpectedly rose to great fame in the mid 1980s) The-match up felt perfect enough and a mid 80s timeframe feels realistic too as it gives her those three years to struggle and figure something out to provide for her son.

But also hi hello, I needed Emma May to peruse some sense of tv fame for the sake of her last name becoming a synonymous one. Considering I have no idea where miss Emmaline Butternubbins wound up after the fall of Billville (or hell if she’s even alive some twenty odd years later) but I love the idea of Emmaline recognizing the name ‘Dixon’, seeing the similarities on tv between Emma May and what she remembers of young Madeline, and wanting to reach out. Mainly out of fear that Ciphertology is rising again and she wants to talk some sense into her, sure, but once they meet or get in contact and Em couldn’t be further from that?? She’s relieved. Plus the two can bond over the absolute madness of the cult (also Emma May gaining a mother figure that isn’t Fiddleford mom? I love Bobbie Jean, but Em needs even more maternal support)

Also also?? I always envisioned Emma May as the type of gal to be super into photography. She just loves taking pictures of memories, people she cares about, and stuff she likes.

So this especially grew once she had Tate, the kid naturally being used to getting his photo taken for scrapbooks, and he loved being photogenic

But once his mom becomes a tv personality he begins to detest the public eye and the cameras of others

Its a hatred he keeps to adulthood especially, having zero tolerance for anyones cameras (other than his moms polaroid camera) pointed towards him

[cowgurrrl]

now that i think about it, though, actress!reader and rockstar!joel having their own stars on the walk of fame would be iconic! the stans would be freaking out and ofc their families would be supportive

Hello I spent way too long writing these speeches??

You would both agree that because it’s such a big deal and you’ll probably already be crying all day to not speak at each other’s ceremony. It’s enough that the other and all the people you love and care for are there to support. Joel’s ceremony is a week before yours because you’re in different industries and he’s been in the public eye for longer than you. Which is fine because you’re weirdly nervous for your own ceremony. You’d much rather watch him get his first so you know what to expect.

The day of, you wear a simple, pretty black dress and gather your entire family into the car to get to Hollywood. The kids, all being 12 and above, don’t require as much supervision as they have in the past and are free to greet aunts and uncles they haven’t seen in a while. They quickly disperse in a chorus of, “Uncle Dave!” “Uncle Harry!” “Aunt Patti!” and more. You stay close to Joel before the ceremony actually starts and you’re relegated to the front row and he smiles sweetly as he kisses your cheek.

“Thanks for bein’ here.” He says and you smile and squeeze his bicep.

“Thanks for inviting me.” You say. You mingle through the crowd together, his hand always on your waist, in yours, or ruffling the hair of a passing child or grandchild that looks weirdly like him. When the ceremony begins, you sit in the front and he shoots you a wink from the podium before he starts giving his speech. Of course, he thanks his producers, band mates, managers, and everyone else as he spins the yarn of the young single-dad who showed up in LA with a dream and practically nothing else. Every once in a while, he looks up from his paper to meet your eyes and you nod to encourage him. Sometimes mouthing, “you got it.” He nods back and goes back to his words.

“I wouldn’t be near where I am today if it weren’t for my family. My brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria, and their daughter, Lucy, never let me forget my roots and keep me grounded as the Texas boy I am. The little girl I showed up with is now a psychologist who’s way smarter than I’ll ever be, and a wonderful wife and mother to two little ones— Isaac and Eleanor. The daughter that isn’t of my blood but is of my soul is now a tattoo-covered drummer with an attitude that impresses even her Aunt Patti, an activist fighting for LGBTQ+ rights all across the world, and an amazing mother to a not-so-little JJ. My first son who’s given us a run for our money from the second he was born spends more time playin’ baseball than the guitar and we love him for it. My twin girls, our final Millers, never miss a beat and not only keep me on my toes but keep me updated on the latest TikTok trend so their old dad doesn’t go out of style just yet,” he says. Sophia and Violet giggle down the line of your family as you sit there and watch him. His eyes meet yours and you catch them misting over and you’re a goner.

“And my incredible wife who’s been patient, understanding, and gentle beyond belief for eighteen years. You are forever and always my inspiration, my rock, my best friend, and my confidant. The only reason I was able to make Grammy-winning albums and go on tour is because you stayed home with our kids for the first two years of their life. I know it wasn’t easy and there were days when we both wondered if we made the right decision. I hope you feel like we did. The sacrifices I’ve made are nothing compared to yours and I will do everything I can to repay you for that. This star— this accomplishment— is as much yours as it is mine. I love you with everything I am and everything I could ever be. Thank you.” His words hit your heart and all at once, all five of your kids are reaching across each other to grab your hand, touch your wrist, your knee, any part of you they can reach. You laugh and kiss each of their hands as you wipe your eyes. He looks at you with raised eyebrows, looking for approval, and you nod.

“I love you,” you mouth.

“I love you, too,” he mouths back.

At your ceremony, a week later, you stand on the same stage he did and look down at your family. The day’s emotions have made you especially teary and seeing all their sweet faces doesn’t do you any favors. “Alright, I’m gonna try to do this without crying,” you say, making everyone laugh. You thank your team and all the people you absolutely need to thank before turning to where you know Carolina, Ryan, Elizabeth, Victoria, and Penny are sitting.

“I met Carolina Garcia and Ryan Long while looking for a roommate for my 1,200 square foot apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. I was twenty and in the middle of my studies at NYU when Carolina responded to my Craig’s List ad. She said she didn’t have any pets, allergies, or baggage with her except for her boyfriend, Ryan. I was skeptical but agreed to meet him and thus began our decades-long friendship. When Carolina booked her first big TV gig, she threw my name in the hat and helped launch my career. Over the years, Carolina, Ryan, and their daughters have become cornerstones in my life. They made me a godmother and costar when they didn’t have to. They’re kind, selfless people and I owe who I am to them,” you say.

“Carolina and Ryan were also present when I met my husband, Joel Miller, and watched me fall in love with him. Carolina drunkenly told me during our wedding reception that she knew Joel was the one when I told her I could not only tolerate, but sleep through, his snoring,” Joel laughs a little too hard at the anecdote from his spot in the front when all five of the Miller children nod in agreement.

“Over our twenty-year relationship and eighteen-year marriage, Joel has given me support, love, and a family. I met his daughters, Sarah and Ellie, when they were 18 and 14, and although I didn’t bring them into this world, they gladly welcomed me into theirs. They were exceptionally patient and sweet as I adjusted to life with them and their father and let me love them as if they were my own. I never thought I could be a mother, but they helped prove me wrong. Quickly, we went from a family of four to a family of seven with the addition of Sam and our twins, Sophia and Violet, but through it all, the three of you made it easy to be a mom. Even then, all of you made me want to be a better mom, a better wife, a better actress, a better person. With the five of you, I felt unstoppable. I share this achievement with all of you as I do my love. Being your wife, mother, friend, godmother, and Nanny has been the greatest ride of my life. I love you. Thank you.”

Your family embraces you the second you’re off the stage and soon social media floods with pictures of Joel lifting you off the ground and spinning you around, kissing you, and holding your hand or waist for the rest of the day. You get sweet comments and congratulations from fans and other people in the industry. People Magazine celebrates the two of you as “The Most Successful Couple in Hollywood” and praises you for your speeches. You could give a thousand speeches and none of them could ever come close to describing what it feels like to watch Joel play with the kids and grandkids and nieces and nephews.

None of them could ever come close to encapsulating how much love you have for him and the life you get to lead together.

[sunflower73498]

I literally can’t stop thinking about Young Royals S3

I have always been fascinated by Wille’s relationship with his parents, or lack thereof. Specifically his mother, because until this season, his father was little more than a cardboard cutout. In S1 I strongly disliked Kristina. In S2 she seemed to be trying a little more, though her efforts were specifically aimed at achieving her own goals for Wilhelm, not his. In S3, I once again dislike her, but I feel bad for disliking her.

Because truly, her grief, the extreme psychological and physical manifestations of losing a child that she is experiencing, is all completely valid, and within the spectrum of what is expected of a parent who has lost a child. I feel sympathy for the physical and mental health problems she is experiencing, and I think it’s OK for her to be experiencing it, to take a step back to deal with it. 

What I don’t think is OK, however, is expecting her 16 year old son, a first year HS student with his own history of mental illness, who is also deeply grieving, to take over all of her responsibilities. Yeah, they don’t really mean for him to take over everything, because he’s a kid and still in school, but they’ve also really stepped up the pressure on him without offering much additional support (Farima offers some, she’s the most present adult in his life this season, and really the one who seems to know him and care about him most of the adults on the show). They ask him to start a foundation and support a cause, but neither of his parents show up to support him in doing that, even knowing that he has sometimes extreme anxiety regarding public speaking/public appearances. They don’t walk him through the process or offer guidance, just constantly remind him that he’s expected to step up, and may have to fully take over within a year or two, and send Farima to deal with him (which in my opinion is much better that Jan Olof, because Farima actually seems patient with Wilhelm and to know how to handle his emotions with sensitivity). 

While I’m mad at Kristina, despite her legitimate grief, I’m more mad at Ludvig, I think. Yes, he also lost a child and is grieving, but he’s holding it together enough to support his wife, so why isn’t he offering any of that support to his son, even when said son starts reaching out more, and clearly wants to talk? 

I also think this is all complicated by the fact that Wilhelm didn’t have a good, close relationship with his parents to begin with. Kristina was harsh and dismissive of him even before Erik died in season 1. If Kristina had only started neglecting Wilhelm, putting excessive pressure on him and comparing him to Erik after Erik had passed, I would be a lot more forgiving. But I get the impression that Wilhelm has always been compared to Erik, has always been made to feel that he isn’t good enough in comparison and needs to be more like Erik, and his parents have never made much effort to understand him. I think he often only got attention when he was in trouble, and toddlers and teenagers are similar in the fact that if their negative behaviors are what get the attention the desire, they will keep doing that as long as it is reinforced that negative behavior leads to attention. His outburst at them in episode 5 had been building a lot longer than the few months since Erik died. 

I think his parents both desperately needed to hear what he was shouting out them. I think that shouting and getting angry and destroying things wasn’t the best way to go about getting them to listen, but as discussed above, I think it’s the only way he really knows how to get their attention. And yeah, the timing isn’t great, when his mother is suffering so much, but Wille is suffering, too, and he has reached his limit. It seems like a relatively little thing, to get mad that his parents talked too much about Erik on a day that’s supposed to be about Wilhelm and that his mom didn’t feel up to sticking around for cake, but that was really just the final straw on a long history of trauma, turmoil, and emotional neglect, the last Jenga block being pulled out before the tower toppled. 

(Admittedly, this is young royals, it’s a show about Wilhelm, and we viewers have come to love him over the 3 seasons, it’s his struggle that is being portrayed, so of course I’m on his side and want better for him rather than siding with his mother even though I do feel some sympathy for her.)

Anyway, I will probably keep reflecting on this aspect of the show for a lot longer. Maybe I’ll even feel some inspiration to write fan fiction in response. We’ll see where it goes. 

I also have a lot more thoughts about August, and about Farima of all people to share at some point.

[chysgoda]

Evidentiary Part Two

A Desertwalkers Tale

Investigations | Part One

The deputy and the doctor (evidently the deputy’s brother) were hissing at each other in low tones and felt very far away. Hephaistos looked down at his granddaughter and struggled to connect the freshly changed bandages on her torso and down one arm, with the young woman who decided to throw aside her hard won masters to play at being a hero in the dust. She looked small on a bed that was long enough for the tallest likely patient. On a small stand next to the bed he saw Bel’s grimoire. He absently touched the chains and phoenix feathers which glowed like sleepy embers against his skin. Hephaistos had sent his old grimoire with her when she’d gone across the salt and she’d carefully added her own spells to the blank pages in the back. 

It did not seem to have served her well here. 

“What happened to her?”

The brothers Bishop looked up from whatever they had been whispering about. The doctor’s eyes narrowed, “Fucking Livia Junis is what happened to her. And she came in better than most of the people I see because of that bitch. She’ll make a full recovery if she listens to directions.”

“Better?” Hephaistos asked, his voice tight. 

“Livia isn’t known for restraint,” Deputy Augustine said. “Most people-“

“Either leave here able to tell the fucking weather, or in a damned pine box.” Mathye finished for his brother. The Lahabrea patriarch noted that the doctor had a leg brace when he turned and folded his arms over his chest, “Which I’m sure you are aware of, being her boss’s fucking lawyer.” 

He was aware of it, but in a distant clinical way. In the way of receiving reports from the junior associates he sent out to be the hands filling out papers and submitting them to the local judge. He sat down at the foot of the bed and watched his granddaughter. Her chest rose and fell in a steady cadence, but something of the pain must have chased her as she slept and pulled her expression from peaceful into pained. 

The distant whispering stopped and the door opened and closed. Bel wouldn’t be here in this backwater clinic under the care of a backwater saw bones if she’d just listened to his advice. She could have been settling into the family firm where he could guide and mold her to take over after he retired. She could have been established at the university back in the city working continuing the research she’d started with her grandmother’s guiding hand on her shoulder. She should be back in the city where the most physical harm she might face would be a mild hangover from drinking herself a bit silly after having to deal with Athena’s high society acquaintances. 

Instead she was here, burned and bandaged. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when Bel groaned and a furry purple ear twitched. She twisted a bit and hissed when the motion pulled on her burned skin, she looked at him with unfocused groggy eyes, “Grandpa?”

The tone reminded him, too painfully, of when he and her mother had taken her from Athena’s lab after his wife’s second bout of madness. She’d been five years old and terrified and clung to him or Idunn as she whimpered. “It’s me, I’m going to-” 

Another shift and hiss of pain brought sharpness to his granddaughter’s miss matched blue and green eyes. Her next words were growled, “You damn well better not have taken my evidence.”

The sudden shift felt like a slap in the face and he felt his voice and temper respond, “You stole those ledgers.”

“Like hell I did!” Bel yelled back at him. “It’s salvage if his name wasn't on the deed.”

“You have no idea what you are doing” Hephaistos was on his feet and looming over the girl. 

A hand on his bicep dug in and yanked him back. The medic glared at him and jerked a thumb at the door, “Get the fuck out of my clinic.”

“This is my granddaughter!” Lahabrea growled

“I don’t fucking care. Get out of my fucking clinic.” The medic pulled him back harder surprisingly strong. Bel had forced herself to sit up so she could glare properly at her grandfather which only earned her the medics ire as well. Mathye jabbed a finger in her direction, “you will damn well lay back down before you tear that healing skin.”

Bel did as she was told with bad grace and Mathye turned his attention back to Hephaistos. The lawyer ground his teeth and looked at his granddaughter who was pointedly staring at the wall. He ground his teeth and stormed out before the sawbones could cuss at him again. At the very least the door slammed with a satisfying sound. 

Hephaistos Lahabrea began to walk back to the hotel and from the corner of his eye caught the familiar sight of a priest of the Holy Mother and Father. A priest with a familiar face. He did not stare at the priest in white robes that crossed the road. Just like the priest did not stare at the lawyer in a black suit. Lahabrea walked into the hotel and stopped at the front desk to hand over a key. “I no longer need room five.”

“Oh course sir,” the young woman had a carefully blank face. “Will there be anything else?”

“That will be all,” Lahabrea left without any pleasantries. Once he was in his room and the door locked behind him he poured water from the pitcher on top of the dresser into the basin that provided the most basic of washing up possibilities. He splashed water on his face but did not look into the mirror to see what he already knew was there. He found himself thinking of his Ericthonios in the wake of the encounter with his granddaughter. His son looked like he was every inch his son from his ember orange hair to the scarlet eyes set in dark skin, but his son was aging into laugh lines not scowl lines and his hair was not burned white by his own ambition. He considered looking for Claudine who he knew was lurking around Stonewood but after all of today’s chasing after nothing he did not have the energy to hunt down a son to argue with. 

There was one possibility that might salvage this trip to this town forsaken by the Mother and Father. Lahabrea grabbed the hand towel and patted his face dry. He locked the door behind him when he left and began walking to the chapel on the west side of town. He knew the shape of the building he was looking for without ever having seen it. The Holy Church of the Mother and Father liked to keep a consistent image. He’d been raised in the old religion that had come from across the salt. He still went enough to be seen doing so, making an effort at the show of piety helped mitigate some of the dark reputation that the Lahabrea Legal Firm had. 

The inside of the church was a pale shard of the grand cathedrals in the lands across the salt. The walls were white washed with middling violet and blue tapestries. The wooden pews were painted white with faded purple scrollwork painted on the backs. Behind the alter the rounded abstract figures of Mother Hydaelyn and Father Zodiark were carefully painted wood rather than carved alabaster and amethyst lit from within by ancient crystal. The only thing that did not seem like a worn out facsimile was the blood red stole that now hung over the shoulders of the priest. 

“You are several hours early if you want to attend midnight service.” Lahabrea would never lose that edge of surprise when the deep baritone voice rang out from the man’s slight frame. 

“Elidibus,” He stopped walking at the front row of pews and watched the priest set out candles in preparation for the service. 

“I prefer Themis these days,” the he turned to face Lahabrea. Themis was the same age as his sons, old enough to have children grown, but he still looked barely old enough to convince a saloon keeper to let him drink. 

“This isn’t where I expected to find you,” Lahabrea probed but only received one of Themis’s polite smiles. He pushed harder, “I assume you’ve-”

“I do not work for you anymore Hephaistos,” Themis cut him off, “And I have not for several years now.”

“One does not simply walk away from a vocation like yours, Elidibus,” Lahabrea put heated emphasis on the name. 

“Oh there has been nothing simple about my path,” Themis stepped up to the alter and looked at him with that same polite smile but now the blue eyes were calculating. “I would advise you to caution Hephaistos Lahabrea. The Mother and Father ensure balance in all things and all lives. You would not want anything to upset that balance and draw their will into action.” 

Lahabrea bristled at the obtusely worded threat. “Nothing you know could be used in court.”

“True balance is rarely found in the Dawnservent’s courts. You have helped to ensure as much. And so I doubt that any redress for your sins would happen there.” Themis folded his hands neatly in front of him. “I will pray that you have an uneventful trip back to the city.”

Lahabrea clenched a fist as Themis turned away from him. He stormed out of the church without even crumbs that might make something of the trip to this backwater. He returned to the hotel and slept poorly in an unfamiliar bed that night. The next morning at the train station he watched two Landsguard agents in full uniform board with the box that contained the evidence that he had originally set out to get. 

He would need to find out what those ledgers contained. Hephaistos took his seat in the single passenger car and pinched the bridge of his nose. It could wait until tomorrow when the dust of Stonewood was no longer clinging to him as a reminder of what he had failed to do. 

[cognitiveleague]

Hey, y’all! I’m even broker than usual, so fuck it. A… commissions post of sorts? But for random shit I’m good at, organized loosely from most practical to most deranged.

So let’s get to it! In case this post makes it to someone outside of my mutuals, hi, I’m Ket (she/her), and my wife Thyme (they/them) and I are veteran Tumblrinas of many a year. We live with our two beautiful, incredibly stupid cats, Tabitha and Umbra.

I wrote a whole thing here about how hard we work (well, not the cats) and the reasons why we’re still struggling, because that’s how I Need Money posts usually go, and then I deleted it, because honestly, we’re pretty much all having a bad time under late-stage capitalism, and beyond not wanting to guilt trip anyone, I don’t want to waste anyone’s empathy on all the exhausting details when so many of us are already so tired and so overextended emotionally and/or financially.

Tl;dr - Late stage capitalism sucks for us (as it does for many), no money in bank, week until payday, need money because existing is expensive.

What I can offer in exchange for money if anyone’s interested: under the cut to save space on your dash!

-Translation: Japanese to English, English to Japanese, French to English (but not vice versa at this time unless you’re willing to accept that the end result may be pretty clunky and stilted), could probably drag my wife in if anybody wants Swedish to English or vice versa? Pricing variable depending on amount and complexity of text involved, can provide a somewhat-negotiable estimate on request.

-Informal consultation on (US) health insurance: My day job involves dealing with my workplace’s patients’ health insurance companies. I have an active vendetta against all private healthcare companies and detailed knowledge of how they work, and am personally invested in helping as many people as possible not get screwed by them, so honestly, if I had time and didn’t need money, I’d do this one for free. I’d probably have to draw up some type of waiver / information privacy policy for it, like you’d have to sign for any sort of financial advisor who gets paid for it, but if there’s interest I totally will. I can look at your healthcare plan options and tell you which one would make the most sense to pick, or advise on the best plan of action for making your existing bullshit insurance company fix something they screwed up, for example. Pay what it’s worth to you.

-Editing: I’ve got years if not decades of experience with fiction and academic writing, and a sharp eye for detail. I’m also experienced with writing letters and emails in a business context. Got something that needs a once-over for errors? I can help! I am also happy to just straight-up write letters or emails for any context, or really just about anything that isn’t academic writing (which I can still help revise or edit, but if you want someone to write your whole damn paper for you, find someone willing to do it.) As with translation, pricing depends on amount and complexity of text, can provide an estimate if you tell me what you want.

-Short-form poetry: I said what I said, and you know, I’m not even embarrassed somehow. Pay what you will, and you can have your very own bespoke haiku (in Japanese and-or English) for any occasion and/or theme you want. Hell, if you want, and if “what you will” covers at least enough for materials and postage, I’ll clear off the coffee table, dust off the calligraphy set, personally cry tears of frustration from my own eyeballs for you as I try to remember how to grind my own ink, and mail you a physical copy.

-Assorted Renfaire Bitch Skills: I did fencing and reenacting until I busted my leg, and have for many years worked weekends at a clothes shop at my local renfaire during the season when it runs. Also my Tolkien and Shakespeare and golden age of piracy phases just never went away. Want practical advice on writing or choreographing m a swordfighting scene? Want a shitpost (or anything else) translated from 20th-21st century English to period-accurate Tudor-era English? Want me to design a medieval-to-renaissance-inspired outfit for you or your OC with whatever level of accuracy or inaccuracy you want? Want me to write a scathing diss sonnet for someone your party’s bard hates? ALL THIS AND MORE CAN BE YOURS - I pray you, seek out with all haste my DMs

-Assorted Renfaire Butch Skills: Autocorrect was really pushing for this one, and I’ll grant it this win. As above, but I’ll tie my hair back and wear a doublet.

-Cat pics: Self explanatory. I will send you photos of our beautiful, brainless cats to brighten your day. Pay what you will, and I will decide how many stupid cat pictures it is worth.

Send me a DM if you want to engage my services for any of the above, and we can talk what kind of price would be fair! Reblogs appreciated, too 💕

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

.

[sweetsbfreex]

my love

summary: a blurb of ceo!harry taking care of his pregnant wife

pairing: ceo,husband!harry styles x pregnant,wife!reader

warnings: none! just fluff

-

You were in Bloomingdale’s, a blubbering, pregnant mess to be exact. Staring at the array of newborn baby clothes. 

You weren’t really sure what happened. The only thing you did know was you wanted Harry and you’d deal with the guilt of bothering him at work later. 

Your phone was to your ear in seconds, as you waited patiently for your husband to pick up.

“Hi, angel,” harry greets you gently.

“H—“

“Woah” Harry stands up immediately from his desk. You’ve said one letter, yet he can immediately hear how stuffed you are and the shakiness in your voice. You’ve been crying and he doesn’t like that one bit. He’s praying nothing serious has happened to you or the baby, and that you’ve just watched an SPCA commercial or the ending of Avatar: The Last Airbender, or maybe you've just read a novel.

“Love? You alright, what is it?” 

“I— I’m at the mall, in Bloomingdale’s shopping for the baby, and I don’t know what’s wrong, but I just started crying. The clothes are so small and cute, Harry. I think it’s the hormones…” you wipe at your tears. Trying to make sure no one was around to witness a pregnant woman lose her mind. You especially didn’t need to see it in magazines. 

“Okay, okay. Just breathe, love. Probably a bit overwhelmed, huh?” he speaks softly into the phone.

“I think so?” you stammer. 

“Which mall are you at?” He asks, gathering his keys, packing his backpack and briefcase, and locking his office door. 

“I’m at Simons, but you don’t have to drive all the way over here, just wanted to talk to you, H” 

“Nonsense. I’ll be there in a few alright, beautiful? Just stay put.”

“Okay,” you mumble. You tried your best to hide the excitement and lack of guilt you were feeling about getting to see Harry earlier than you would have. 

But you missed him and the kiss goodbye you got earlier was not enough. 

-

Harry walks towards you in a stoic stride, adorned in one of his many custom suits; his hair perfectly styled and curled to his shoulders. Before you know it his hands cradle your cheeks, thumbs wiping under your eyes as he pampers you, “All right, my love? Don’t have to break anyone’s face?” he jokes, smiling when you giggle. 

He encases your body into his (as close he can with your belly in the way) one hand rubbing up and down your back, then places a sweet kiss to the top of your head. 

“You find anything you like?”

“No, not yet.” 

“Well, then let’s look around.” 

He takes hold of your hand while using the other to hold your shopping bag. 

-

“Ooo, look at this Harry! It’s so cute,” you turn to him, holding a pale-pink, cable knit cardigan with matching bloomers. 

“Put anything you want in the bag, my love,” 

So you do, shopping together to your heart's desire for your baby girl. With Harry, there was no such thing as a limit. Leading to you picking up anything you thought was cute. A crochet, fruit embroidered romper; A Ralph Lauren pink, striped, oxford dress; a pair of the smallest, cutest uggs; a tulle dress. And other things you two thought were cute. 

During your shopping, Harry picks up a phone call as you shop around him. 

“Styles.” He answers. 

“H,” you whisper, holding up a hat. 

He smiles, holding up an okay before kissing your cheek quickly. 

“I won’t be back for the day..”

You look up at him, confused. You’re about to argue when he holds up a finger to his lips. He loves you, but god are you stubborn. 

“..So make sure Stacy finishes her report and drops it off precisely at three, no extension. And Tony isn’t on his arse all day.” 

He hangs up when the conversation is over. Surprised when your arms wrap around his neck and your lips smash on his. 

His arms wrap around your torso, bunching up the silk dress that draped over your bump perfectly. 

You pull away, “That was hot.” 

His cheeks tint as he does his signature smirk. That was not helping you calm down In any way. 

“Don’t look all bashful,” you nip his bottom lip. “Did you bring the car with the really tinted windows?” You ask against his lips.

“Yes,” he husks, raising a hand to grasp the back of your neck. 

“Let’s hurry and check out,” you kiss him one more time. Hand-in-hand, you drag him to the register. All while Harry follows like a love sick puppy. 

-

“That’ll be $1,108. Will you be paying with cash or card, today?” 

Harry answers with card. He doesn’t react to the long number as he hands them his black American Express.

Yeah, he was definitely getting lucky. 

Harry gathers both shopping bags in one hand, while the other locks with yours. He carefully, but quickly ushers the both of you to his car.

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

[leviathanspain]

even if it’s a lie

anthony bridgerton x reader, anthony bridgerton x kate sharma, benedict bridgerton x reader

synopsis: y/n keis is a promising young woman, wealthy. anthony bridgerton finds her well enough for a wife. but it’s just an arrangement, all a lie, but when she finally upholds her end of the deal, anthony and y/n are finally on the same page.

“she’s beautiful,” you whispered, afraid of looking over at your husband, who was seemingly captivated by the warm smile that edwina sharma had placed on her face. her older sister had features just as beautiful as hers, if only she got rid of the pinched sneer.

anthony seemed to nod in agreement, and you let out a sigh, rolling your eyes.

“isn’t it a little late for you to still be here? don’t you want to visit siena to get your rocks off before you try dry humping me in the bed again?” you hissed at your husband who’s expression went tight.

people weren’t near you, and so your conversation didn’t lace anyones ears but anthony was still thoroughly pissed. “of course, my dear. wouldn’t want to hear those pretty little whimpers, again, now would we?” he shot back and you scowled, returning your gaze back at the sisters.

anthony departed from your side, excusing himself to get a drink but you knew he was really going to scope out the sharmas. his gaze on the eldest was enough to make you uncomfortable-

“darling.” a soft voice purred in your ear and you felt his breath tickle your neck, and you shoved him playfully.

“benedict bridgerton.” you smiled, turning to see the man of your dreams, a smile on his face as he looked at you. you tried not to smile too much, onlookers would only assume the worst. instead, you pulled your fan out, splaying it over your faces to block the view as you conversed.

benedict wanted to reach out and touch you, he wanted to hold you and dance with you under the moonlight, but even as ravishing as you looked, he knew he couldn’t kiss you the way he wanted.

“don’t go whispering in another lady’s ear like that, i’ll have your balls nailed to the wall.” you whispered, and he nodded, a slight grimace on his face. “only for you, my love.” you rolled your eyes, fanning yourself, “do you think your brother will tire out so we can leave? i’ve got business to handle.” you stated, and benedict couldn’t help but smile, “you’re calling me business now?”

you smirked, “better than a to-do list.”

benedict chuckled, “i’ll get him going..” he sauntered off towards his brother and you smiled to yourself.

anthony followed after you as you hauled yourself up into the carriage, fluffing your dress as you sat patiently.

anthony looked at you once before he hauled himself in and shut the door, the carriage under you moving before he spoke.

“i know you’re sleeping with my brother and all but please try to be discreet about it. i cant have people asking why my brother is whispering romantically in my wife’s ear.” he commented tightly and you narrowed your eyes.

“oh but the chasing of kate sharma is acceptable?” you countered and anthony turned from his position towards the window.

“no. but i am a man.” he excused.

you sneered, “and she’s okay with fucking you like a common whore?”

anthony practically jumped at you, but he held himself back, and instead breathed deeply, “remember your place. you’re just a convenience, and you still haven’t even completed your second part of the deal.” he pinched his nose bridge and closed his eyes, seemingly stressed.

you scoffed, “when i see you, my cunt dries out like the desert.” you laughed bitterly, “besides, it’s not like you take initiative either, siena might bear your child before i do.”

anthony stopped dead and you hitched your breath, “enough with the siena talk. please.” he sounded serious at the end and that quieted you for the rest of the ride home.

benedict was already waiting for you in your bedroom when you got home. you sent the maids away, requesting to undress yourself. they protested but you stood firm, not even letting them inside to help you bring out the nightgowns.

benedict was sitting on the bed, a sketchbook in hand as you entered. he looked up and smiled, “hello darling.” he greeted, and you have a smile back, quiet as you shucked your shoes off.

“ben.” you called out and he looked up from his book, “yes?”

you motioned to your gown, “please help me take this ridiculous thing off.” you sounded defeated, tired and mentally exhausted from your argument with anthony, especially when you remembered the secret you had been keeping for the past month.

“benedict.” you whispered as he tugged your dress off, “hmm?” he sounded focused and you wanted to laugh slightly.

“im scared.” you whispered, you voice hitching as tears welled up in your eyes.

benedict pulled your gown off and you stood in your undergarments, “what’s wrong, darling?” he sounded so concerned it made your heart tighten.

“ive missed my cycle. i haven’t had it in about two months.” you whispered, and benedict held your hand, but he stilled.

“i don’t know if it’s yours or anthony’s.” you confessed, and benedict felt his body go cold all over. he paused for a moment, nodding before he pulled you in for a tight embrace. he pushed his feelings aside and instead comforted you.

“you need to tell him. but don’t tell him that it might be mine.” he told you assuringly, “he’ll accept it. if he questions it, it’ll only make things worse for him.” benedict told you, stroking your back.

you sniffled, “i feel so..” you couldn’t even finish, you felt horrible for sleeping with both brothers, constantly. you were no better than anthony himself, couldn’t even figure out who was your baby’s father.

“i’m sorry.” you whispered, clutching onto his shirt as you sniffled, “i’m selfish, ben. im already married and i want you all to myself-“ benedict pulled back and his face was grim, “don’t say you regret this. please.”

the next few months of your pregnancy were rough. your doctor had declared your pregnancy high risk, and forbade you to be on your feet for longer than necessary, short bathroom breaks and dinners in bed. anthony knew the chances, but he also knew the possibility of any of this coming out, especially now that you distanced yourself from his brother, he found it as a chance to try to bond with you, for your child.

“i cant even see my feet, right now.” you confessed to anthony as he gave you a book, “and you expect me to attend your sisters wedding looking like this?”

he laughed, “doctor said it would be fine as long as you sat for most of it. so no dancing.”

you nodded, “i guess that’s fine. never was the best dancer anyway.”

both of you knew that was a damn lie. you were the best dancer of your season, partly the reason why anthony married you. that and your sizable wealth.

“how’s kate?” you asked, trying to sit up, but the pillows that propped you up left no room for you to sit up.

anthony shrugged, “she’s been distant, lately.” you nodded, “probably because the man she loves is married with a child on the way.” you deadpanned and he scoffed, “she doesn’t love me.”

you raised your eyebrow, “with the way she looks at you?”

he nodded slightly, “it doesn’t matter anyway, i was thinking of breaking it off.”

“why?” you questioned. you grabbed anthony’s hand suddenly and pulled it onto your belly, setting it down where you felt the kicks, “they seem pretty active right now.” you whispered, and anthony smiled, a bright smile for the first time in a long time.

benedict didn’t know what was going on. maybe it was the baby that brought you two together, maybe it was anthony’s involvement and presence in the marriage but you and anthony were like an actual married couple. it hurt him, especially when he swore to distance himself from you, that baby could be his but he knew it wouldn’t actually be his..

he drank night and day. he was a mess, a vicious mess who could hardly paint and hardly stay awake throughout the day. he hurt to see you so happy, glowing like the beautiful girl you used to be, before this, before him.

he cursed himself, he cursed his brother for marrying the love of his life, cursed that baby that would never call him ‘papa’. even if it was a lie, he cursed you for giving his brother another chance.

[lys1]

Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words. 

Playing With Potions

—————

The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.

You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.

Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.

The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.

"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.

Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.

You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.

"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."

Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.

He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.

"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."

Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.

The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.

"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.

Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"

The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."

"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."

"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.

Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"

"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.

"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.

Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."

You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.

"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."

Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."

Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.

The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.

"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.

You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."

Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."

Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.

He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.

You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.

Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."

You nod as he explains, it makes sense.

Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.

In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.

Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."

Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.

"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.

Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.

Escape!

"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.

All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.

Help!

Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.

The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.

You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.

Thank you!

Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.

"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.

You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.

Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.

"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.

"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."

You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.

"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.

Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.

"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.

You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.

That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.

The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.

Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.

"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.

You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.

"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.

After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.

"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.

You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.

Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.

Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.

"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.

After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.

Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.

You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.

"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.

You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.

You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.

As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.

"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.

"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.

"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.

You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.

He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.

You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.

You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.

"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.

You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.

His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.

With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.

"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."

"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.

He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.

You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."

To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."

Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.

Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.

"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."

You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.

His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.

"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.

Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.

Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.

You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.

"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.

"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.

"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.

You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.

You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.

"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.

"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.

He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.

You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.

Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.

Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.

Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.

"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.

You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.

"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."

Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

[sukirichi]

closer | gojo satoru x reader

a/n: aaah my first ask and it’s a request! thanks so much this is so kind and sweet of you 🥺 and here it is! I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it anyway! 

summary: in which Gojo has the need to be closer to you after a long day of hard work

pairings: jealous! Gojo x reader

warnings: none, other than this isn’t proofread! (This is just a fluffy domestic short fic!)

masterlist ! 

The best part about being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer isn’t the power (although Gojo basks in that too) but rather the fact that he allows himself to completely tear his walls down and be putty in your hands once he comes home from work.

Gojo would never say it out loud that the best part of his days is waking up next to you, pressing kisses in your still sleepy face and you whining for five more minutes, then watching as you wobble like a penguin to the shower so you can start your day. Although he doesn’t really ask much from you, his heart still swells every time you make him a sandwich, kiss it and claim that it’s “made with love” before he proudly shows off his ‘breakfast’ of the day to his students.

Even in work, he still thinks of you. It’s quite impossible for this man to stop thinking of you; you and him never left that honeymoon phase even after two years of marriage and a much longer time of dating.

He could be exorcising a curse then get distracted afterwards after seeing an Italian restaurant that he just knows you’ll love. Next thing you know, Gojo flicks his wrist and exorcises the curse in a flash before hopping into that restaurant to look at the menu. Loving is knowing; Gojo takes the time to see if the restaurant would be respectful of your allergies every time before booking reservations.

It’s no secret that this man is completely enamoured with you, if his sappy good morning kisses accompanied with light, teasing touches down your legs is not an indication already. Gojo is confident and feels safe in your relationship and he’s never the type to get jealous because Gojo is Gojo – who else would be better than him for you?

Or at least that’s what he used to believe, until he comes home with a bag of pumpkin spice bread for you, arms wide open and a “Darling~” about to leave his lips when he sees your current predicament.

Nanami is leaning against one of the chairs in your cafe downstairs from your home, the usual stoic man’s lips and cheekbones slightly raised in laughter as you tell him something about your day. Gojo can’t exactly understand the worse falling from your lips because he’s too focused on the way you’re leaning forward, eyes absolutely crinkled into half-moons while you share a strawberry tart with him. Gojo sees the cups of tea have already been emptied, meaning Nanami has been here for a much longer time than he is welcomed.

Gojo clenches his jaw. He’s told you many times you should get a bell so you’d know when a customer comes in, but now he’s thankful you’re stubborn and refused to have one because he can hide in one of the propped up tables and chairs hidden in the darkness.

He can’t help the sigh he releases. He’s late – like he always is.

You’re a regular human who isn’t able to see curses. You’ve only ever known about their existence ever since you started dating Gojo, but other than that, you’re completely unaware of how these things work. It doesn’t bother Gojo. In fact, he quite likes that he can be just a regular man around you, and he basks in the comfort of not having to worry about your safety if ever you were also like him.

He met you when you were just still a barista who helped your boss bake from time to time. Gojo was only a student then who hopped from one cafe to another in search of the best delicacy, but he got more than what he bargained from when he met the fresh-faced and bubbly young woman standing behind the counter whose smile was sweeter than the most sugary dessert you’ve ever made.

As the two of you grew older, Gojo supported you in building your own cafe since you’re so passionate about it and it’s been your dream since childhood.

He still remembers how you’d spend hours in the kitchen trying out new ingredients, so much so that you forget to eat on most days. Gojo is left with the task of literally hauling your ass up upstairs and force you to shower with him. You lie that you’re not really tired, but the moment his skilled hands roll the tension out of your shoulders, a contented and grateful sigh paints those lips he loves to kiss.

One of the things Gojo loves doing with you is taste-testing. He’s not around the house most of the time when you work since he’s a busy man himself, but on the days he actively chooses to annoy Principal Yaga and go AWOL, he’d sit obediently on the counter and let you use him as your own taste experimenting dummy.

When night falls and you’re just about ready to head to bed; satisfied and proud of another day of hard work, Gojo comes home early to help you clean up the cafe and prop the furniture so you don’t overstrain your muscles.

Or at least, he wants to come home early to help you. It’s just that he often gets carried away on his missions and stays behind a lot longer than he’d like because the world of curses is extremely demanding. After seeing that you probably already lifted all these heavy chairs and cleaned up everything by yourself even when you’re tired, and you still have the ability to smile and laugh like that in Nanami’s presence when he should be the one on the receiving end, Gojo is unable to fight back the twisting feeling that pools in his stomach.

Forcing a huge grin on his face, Gojo loudly smacks the paper bag in the table between you and Nanami, his hands resting on the blond’s shoulder who only groans at his presence. “Yo!” He greets, winking when your eyes gleam brighter now that your husband is home.

There’s no trace or hint of anything that could indicate you’re upset with him because he didn’t come home early. Instead, you bow and excuse yourself while picking up your cups and the small plate where remnants of your signature tart had been, and Gojo watches with longing eyes as you disappear in the back room.

Now that you’re gone, Gojo drops in your seat, takes off his blindfold, and glares at Nanami. “Nanamin,” he drawls out. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here – getting chummy with my wife, no less.”

Gojo knows he’s being petty and childish. Of course he is. This is Nanamin we’re talking about; the man is as frigid and stone and he’s as interested in romantic relationships as much as he respects Gojo Satoru. Plus, it’s you, and you have eyes for Gojo and Gojo only, but it’s also Gojo Satoru who’s mixed in the formula, and he’s not the least bit ashamed that he’s being immature right now.

Of course he’s jealous. Of course he’s possessive.

You’re his sweet, little wife – of course he doesn’t like it.

As if reading his mind but couldn’t be bothered to deal with him, Nanami slides an envelope across the table. “Ijichi took a sick leave so he couldn’t give this to you. I was tasked to hand it over to you instead so I came around. It’s not my fault you come home late and your wife insisted I have a short meal before I came home,” Gojo opens his to retort something stupid when you emerge from the back, pretty face tired yet still patient as ever.

“Leaving already, Nanami?” You smile up at him, hand slipping through Gojo’s bigger and rough ones. He doesn’t know why the gesture leaves him stunned, especially when you step close enough that he feels your heat on this sudden cold night. He’s so entranced by everything about you he doesn’t even notice the blond bidding his farewell.

Gojo watches as you turn to face him, smaller hands reaching up to caress his face. Now that his blindfold is gone, his hair falls down to forehead, your dainty fingers brushing them away from his eyes so you could marvel in its beauty.

Like a little kid, he melts into a puddle when you do that exact eye-smile he’s seen you do with Nanami, only this time, it’s reserved, private, and intimate.

Gojo shuts his eyes in the process, nearly stumbling forward, which he doesn’t really let happen with anyone because he’s the Gojo Satoru; strongest jujutsu sorcerer. But you don’t mind, you never do, and if anything it only makes you laugh when he pretends to be deadweight by collapsing into the crook of your neck.

“What a big baby,” you tease with your hand rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion, all the tiredness and exhaustion from his day disappearing into thin air.

“Yes,” he concedes as he follows you up the stairs where you both change into your pyjamas and settle in for the night. “But I’m your big baby.”

The nickname makes you laugh, head thrown back as giggles erupted in your chest. You’ve already removed your makeup, hair down from your work hairnet and flowing in loose waves. Gojo stifles a gasp then, because you’re in his arms, in his bed, smelling like him, and you’re so soft, so free, so vulnerable and the way you lean into his shoulders while he rubs his cheek on the crown of your head makes him feel like he’s falling in love all over again.

He’ll never get tired of this – of you.

The mere thought of seeing you with someone else that isn’t him doesn’t sit well with Gojo. Now he understands why he’s so jealous and immature – it’s because he hasn’t wanted anyone or anything as much as he loves you.

He can’t imagine a life where he’ll wake up to his mornings without your limbs sprawled across his longer ones, or how he may never hear your sleep talks about birds and butterflies; which is utterly ridiculous, but because it’s you, he finds it adorable. Sometimes Gojo wonders how he ever even lived before meeting, but of course, those were days filled with nothing but him doing weird stupid shit.

Not that he’s stopped doing that, but now at least he’s doing those weird stupid with you.

And he only ever wants to share those with you, so he doesn’t and will never allow anyone else to take what’s rightfully his. You’re his wife, the love of his life, the sunshine in his mornings and the sunset of his beautiful dusk.

He doesn’t care if he’s petty – he’s got every right to be jealous because Gojo Satoru never shares what’s his.

When his mind races back to the way you smile for Nanami again, his hold on you grows tighter. You don’t complain when Gojo suddenly presses his lips into yours, a breathy moan blessing his ears once he finally moves on top of you. Gojo runs his hand under your – his – shirt, letting those talented hands of his roam upon the expanse of his skin like an artwork he’ll never get tired of looking at.

“Missed you,” he mumbles in between the lip-locking, leaning closer when your nails start to scratch his scalp as a way to soothe him from the night. Nothing about the kiss is hurried or fervent; rather, it’s calm and steady, slow and passionate, much like how everything he feels for you is similar to a calm, rainy day where he’ll stay in with a hot cup of chocolate.

You’re home – warmth and comfort – and you know you’re his just as he knows he’s yours, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing you like he wants you to never forget that.

You shiver when Gojo’s fingers tickle your ribcage, that spot always having been sensitive. Your husband swipes his tongue over your lips that still tastes like strawberries from your lipbalm, and he groans, falling forward when you allow him access into your sweet, sweet mouth. Meanwhile, you travel down from his hair into those broad, strong shoulders that always seemed like a fortress to you.

Gojo was so big and strong compared to you. There’s no denying he could easily break you if he wanted to, but he’s nothing but gentle – perhaps a little eager – when he holds you like this.

There’s no memory of how you end up on top of his lap that night with the covers barely strewn across your bodies, Gojo’s back pressing into the bed frame that’s witnessed endless nights of passion. His hands then run over your hips, squeezing it a little too hard until you rut against his hips.

“Hmm,” you moan into his mouth at the friction, while Gojo only smirks at your reaction. Even after years, you’re still so sweet, sensitive, and responsive – he just can’t get enough of it. “Satoru,” the way you say his name is so breathy, almost as if it’s a secret only the two of you should know, so he listens intently at your next words. “You’re a little needy tonight. Did something happen?”

“No,” he lies, smiling to himself once he sees your lips are red and bruised. He’s sure he looks the same, but your eyes are glossed over with love that he can’t resist you pulling you to him as if the space offends him. He trails his lips down to your neck to leave red patches of marks that claims you as his – not that the gold wedding band on your fingers wasn’t doing the job already.

Like the good girl you are, you tilt your head and allow him to do as he pleases. He sucks, licks, kisses and nips at the skin, all the while careful to not hurt you or push you over to the edge since both of you are too tired for the day to ever do anything.

Your head drops to the crook of his neck then, arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely as if you trusted him to catch you whenever you fall – and you know he will. He always will.

Later on, you grow sleepy at the way he starts to pepper kisses into your skin that addictingly smells like cinnamon and vanilla all at the same time. Gojo chuckles to himself at how peaceful you look in that moment, draped over him like a tiny puppy who lives in a world too big for themselves, but that’s not true.

You’re bigger than the universe itself, larger than the vast galaxies he held beneath those eyes, and Gojo finally stops being jealous.

There’s no need to be, after all, not when he’s the one you trust wholeheartedly to tuck you in bed while your soft breathing lulls him into slumber as well. Gojo flicks the lamp off with his finger, not wasting another second before he scoots closer, closer, closer until there’s no more recollection of where you begin and where he ends.

He stands corrected in his statement.

He’ll never get tired of this, of you, for you’re bigger than the universe itself and there’s still a lot of space between the two of you that he can’t wait to cross until your worlds crash and burn.

“Next time,” he promises before kissing your eyelids, “I’ll come home earlier.”

[noforkingclue]

Just One Year Chapter 10 (Bones x reader)

Just One Year tag list: @brilliantbutbatty, @440mxs-wife, @pile-of-bones-and-stars, @alindeluce, @stephdavies95, @bubblegum-star-trek, @waleyfish

Star Trek tag list: @strange-old-worlds, @stardustnerd

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“Scotty said that you were originally going to become an engineer.”

“Talking about me already? You asked Bones as he put down a hot drink in front of you

It was peaceful in the Med Bay. Not quiet but there was enough extra staff for Bones to take a break. Secretly, you were glad for the interruption. You needed to rest your eyes from all the paperwork.

“Not like that,” Bones said, “He was just wondering why you wanted to change. I was wondering why you wanted to do engineering in the first place.”

You took a sip of your tea and closed your eyes. The soothing liquid warmed you comfortably up and put you in a good mood.

“I guess I just like seeing how things tick,” you said, “I guess medicine isn’t that different. Only you’ve got the downside of dealing with people instead of machines. A Starship can’t argue back and tell you what’s wrong with it. I’m sure you had to deal with your fair share of argumentative patients.”

“Jim being one of them.”

“I’m sure that Captain isn’t that bad.”

Bones raised an eyebrow at you as he took a sip of his coffee.

“You’ve met him?” he asked

“He did interview me.”

“And you still wanted to come aboard after meeting him. Maybe you’re braver than I thought.”

“Shows how little you know me.”

“That is true.”

You took another sip of your tea as Bones shifted slightly awkwardly in front of you.

“What do you want to ask me?” you said

“Ask you?”

“You have that expression,” you waved a hand in front of your face, “That you are curious about something. Go ahead.”

“Alright,” Bones put his coffee cup on his desk, “Why aren’t you a doctor anymore? You trained, you got your degree, you’re a doctor. So why aren’t you Doctor y/n l/n.”

You took another sip of your tea and grinned at Bones.

“Simple,” you said with a shrug, “I couldn’t take the pressure.”

“Patients,” Bones said with a knowing look, “The responsibility. Lord knows there are times when I wanted to quit.”

“Not just that but that didn’t help,” you said, “But mainly from my family. You have no idea how grating it gets when my mother kept introducing me as ‘Doctor’. She was so keen on keeping up appearances. She said that she didn’t want me to go into engineering because ‘it wasn’t safe,” you rolled your eyes at this, “But that’s a load of bullshit. She didn’t think it was prestigious enough for me. So I stopped being a doctor and took this up and I tell you one thing- I’m a lot happier then I was.”

“Even though you’re not with your fiancé, err.”

“Peter,” you said quickly, “I won’t lie, it’s been a challenge. But if we can get through this then we can get through anything.”

You looked down at your ring and smiled.

“He was a bit jealous that I’m on the Enterprise,” you said, “But he wasn’t the only one.”

A comfortable silence lapsed over the two of you. You started to look back at your work but felt Bone’s eyes on you. You glanced up at him and you were correct, he was looking at you. You raised your eyebrows and he quickly coughed and stood up.

“Must be getting back to work.” he muttered as he quickly left the room

“Yeah,” you said, “Back to work.”

[closetedbumblebee]

White Wedding (Addison Montgomery x Female Reader)

Weddings are supposed to be full of love, happiness and gratitude. A wonderful celebration of two souls coming together as one. Today was one of those days. Callie and Arizona were finally and officially tying the knot.

It was supposed to be a happy celebration all round; all the happy couples loved up, attending the wedding together. Meredith and Derek, Christina and Teddy, Owen and Amelia, Richard and Catherine, among others showed their support for the sweetest couple who were currently reciting their vows.

You sat alone in the third row from the front, extremely proud of your friends. You were smiling from ear to ear as they each walked down the aisle. You knew their story like the back of your hand, and couldn’t contain the happiness you felt when Callie and Arizona finally came through for the other, especially after the accident. They had come so far.

You felt a pang of sadness, taking a look around the room at all the couples. You wished your girlfriend, Addison was here with you, but she had to fly back to LA after Sofia’s delivery. You barely spent enough time together as it is, both of you living in separate cities, leading separate lives. You did, however have a relatively strong and healthy relationship, taking the time to have long phone calls, FaceTime, and send as many text messages as you could. You tried to sneak weekends away  to LA, also. 

But, things felt strained for the last few months, and you both felt the need to remedy that. 

The last time you and Addison saw each other was during her stay, which was 4 days long. You hadn’t seen each other for five weeks, and you could tell the strain was getting to you. But, you both pushed those feelings down to focus on your friends. After all, you were both doctors.

When you did catch up, you and Addison had a slight argument the night before she was set to jet out of Seattle. You sort of made up, but you hadn’t really spoken since, just the odd text and call here and there.

You reminisced… 

“Honey, I really want to stay longer, but I can’t. I’ve got patients to get back to and-“, Addison said sadly.

“We’ve barely seen each other for weeks on end, and when we do, you suddenly have to rush off again. I get that you have a new life now and I respect that. Of course I do, but where the fuck do we fit in?! When you took the job in LA, we promised we’d make each other a priority regardless of whatever happened. You only fly back to Seattle when Richard needs you. I’m busting my butt every other week, rearranging schedules, going out of my way to see you. Because guess what, Addison? I love you! Clearly you don’t love me enough, otherwise you’d be making some sacrifices” you snapped.

Addison was taken aback. You had never seen her look so sad and upset. You just missed her so much, and wanted to be with her. You instantly felt guilty for snapping because you didn’t mean to go that far and before she could say anything, you jumped in again.

“Shit. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just miss you so much. You know that. I’m so so sorry”, you said, equally sad as you reached for her hand.

“We’ll, I’m not going to say that didn’t hurt, because it did. But I understand. I guess it was deserved. I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I’m gonna do better, I promise”, she said.

You held each other tight, “I love you”, you said in unison.

Addison was about to say something else when - 

Her watch beeped, reminding of her flight and you drove her back to the airport where you shared one last kiss.

It wasn’t the way you wanted to make up, but it was a start.

Upon arriving back in LA, she texted immediately.

‘I’m back. I won’t say back home, because it isn’t home. Never has, never will be. My home is with you. FaceTime with me tomorrow? I love you baby xxxxx’, she texted

“Me too, my love. I most certainly will. I’m so sorry again. I love you too xxxx”, you replied.

Things improved between the two of you over the next four weeks, before she told you she couldn’t attend the wedding…

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really wanted to be there, but I just can’t get away”, she said, evidentially disappointed.

“Oh…okay. It’s fine. I can try and film it for you. It’s not going to be the same without you. I love you”. You were sad, but you didn’t want to push her.

……………..

Drawing you from your thoughts, you noticed the last of the guests arriving before the brides made their voyage down the aisle.

“Excuse me, beautiful, is this seat taken?”, you heard a voice say.

You thought you were dreaming. It couldn’t be. You looked up, to see a familiar, beautiful face smiling sweetly at you.

“Addison?!”, you shrieked

You both started crying as she pulled you up into her arms, holding you tightly.

“Surprise”, she whispered huskily into your ear.

“What are you doing here?! I thought you couldn’t come”, you cried.

“I couldn’t bear being away from you anymore”, she said, smiling through tears.

You kissed her with everything you had, before she pulled back.

“I mean it. I’m miserable in LA. I can’t stand it there. So, I’m coming home - for good”, she said.

You didn’t exactly comprehend what she said at first, but then gasped in delight, wrapping her up in your arms. Looking around, your friends were watching you both, all clearly happy for you.

You and Addison still had a lot to talk about, but right now, you put it to the side when Callie and Arizona appeared….

Everyone cried during the vow exchange, and you and Addison shared sweet, knowing looks, never letting go of each other’s hands.

…………..

At the reception, everyone gathered around Arizona and Callie as they had their first dance as a married couple.

Addison wrapped her arms around you from behind and rested her chin on your shoulder as you watched the happy couple. You hugged her arms, and she reached around to peck you on the lips. You two couldn’t get enough of each other.

When it came time for other couples to join the dance floor, you and Addison wasted no time walking hand in hand to the floor. At this point, everyone was in their own worlds, all content and happy, buzzing from the day’s events, while you and Addison were completely wrapped up in your own little bubble.

“So….”, she said, arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you swayed to Shania Twain’s ‘You’ve Got a Way’.

“So…”, you repeated.

She jumped right into it. 

“I’ve missed you, my love. I really have. You are everything to me. I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise. I shouldn’t have been neglecting us”, she said softly, her eyes not leaving yours.

“Addie, hey… No, please. I’m sorry - I had no right to go off at you. I should’ve been more understanding. You uprooted your life and that’s a huge deal; because you’re a big deal, babe. I thought about what I said to you that night, and it was completely unfair, way out of line, in fact.. I was just projecting my feelings onto you. I was so scared that by you moving would have jeopardised our relationship without thinking about anything else. It was me, I was selfish”, you said, sheepishly.

“In other words, you thought I’d cheat on you. That’s it, isn’t it?”, she asked.

You felt tears in your eyes. Blinking them back, you smiled sadly and nodded.

“Come on now, you know I would never, ever, do that to you”, she said.

“I know. I…know. I just should've been more supportive of you. I know what this opportunity meant to you”, you said, your tone apologetic.

“It’s not all on you, okay. I realised I was working longer hours, and I turned my back on us because I was so overwhelmed with all of it, and avoided you, because I think deep down, I was scared too. I was afraid of hurting you, and was terrified the long distance wouldn't work at first. So, I can see how you must’ve felt that way”, Addison said, gently touching your face.

You looked into her eyes, to see the tears shimmering like white diamonds.

“Baby…”, you said.

“Being away from you, not being able to see you, or hold you, or kiss you, made me realise that you, that what we have, is worth more to me than any job. So I told Naomi I quit, called Richard, and he offered me a new job”, Addison smiled.

“Oh, Addie, that’s great!”, you said gleefully.

“Yes, yes it is. But, the best part is that I am now Grey Sloan’s Chief of Neo-Natal Surgery. I’m officially the boss now, baby. You know what that means. This is going to be so good for us!”, Addie said.

You were crying softly and gently touched her face. You knew what this meant; Addison being in charge of her own specialty, back on home soil meant everything to her. She was determined to fight for her relationship with you, so being the boss meant she could make her own rules and schedule. But, not only that, she deserved that title; worked hard for it her whole life; and you were determined to fight to the ends of the earth for her. 

It hit you then that she was really back.

“You’re home?!”, you asked, almost in shock.

“Mm-hmm. I’m home, baby”, she beamed.

“No more messing around, no more arguments. This is it - you and me. No more turning back. I want to fight for us”, she continued.

“I want to fight for us too”, you said back.

You smiled brightly at each other, feeling more connected and more in love than ever.

She was just about to kiss you when you heard the clinking of champagne glasses, as Callie’s father, Mr Torres called for a toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming to celebrate my beautiful daughter, Calliope and her wonderful new wife, Arizona on their special day today. These two have gone through hell and back to be together. I have never felt prouder of my little girl, than I do today. I look around the room, and see it filled with such love. It’s a really beautiful thing. Real, true love is a once in a lifetime feeling, so if you’ve found it, hold onto it with both hands and never let it go, because it’s one crazy ride. Ladies, I congratulate you both on overcoming your obstacles and finding your way to each other. I love you both so much, my dear daughters. To Callie and Arizona!”, Mr Torres exclaimed, full of pride.

“To Callie and Arizona!”, everyone said.

The newlyweds kissed, before turning their attention to the wedding cake.

You and Addison watched the whole exchange, extremely proud of your friends, grateful to be a part of their special, historic day; however, deep down, you both pictured this day of your own, in your not so distant future.

Addison and you shared a look, and you both just knew. This was the path you wanted to take.

“Forever and always, Addie”, you said, winking at her.

“Forever and always, Y/N”, she repeated, clutching your hand, bringing it to her lips.