#not the future or with a given person or away from a given person

[ludinusdaleth]

thinking a lot about how the vast majority of the people who are central pillars to what has shaped imogen - laudna, liliana, ludinus, even orym - are people who, by justifying themselves saying they are saving others (saving her), have given in to chasing power and throwing away a chance for a life of peace (often with her), when she has had to be insurmountably selfless and not give in to the calling in her soul, to prop most of them up, to give them chances.

laudna gives in to delilah to save the world, to save imogen, not realizing shes throwing away being herself with imogen, living together in a cottage; on the flip side, liliana is doing all of this to live on that temult ranch again with her daughter & husband, not realizing she has pushed her daughter away and to become a vessel is something she cannot walk away from. ludinus thinks hes saving the next generation, saving liliana's kin, not realizing he has slaughtered futures like the gods he hates, and is the reason imogen has had to become a soldier like her mother, dressed like him, like an archmage of war. orym takes a fae pact with flowers in his veins and has become almost entirely a vessel for stopping ludinus, struggling with the burden of taking down imogen if she steps out of line, not realizing she respects him like no other and has been put in a position where she cannot give in in large part because he as the other "leader" of the bells has.

she has to pull laudna back from the edge and then listen to liliana say she has to pull ludinus back from his. she has to stop orym's fury at liliana when she has her own heartbreak at own mother, and she is the first to follow ludinus to bear empathy to him when he is the reason her mother & friends & partner are ripping at their seams. she watches fearne & ashton fit into power with their titan shards, she watches folk accept chetneys lycanthropy, she watches everyone she loves or hates struggle with power and the grief & desperation that led them to it-

and she cannot give in.

she cannot give in. she has to be the last sane one left.

how long can she be the most selfless person alive as everyone near her is ready to explode, and all she wants is a shred of kindness from the universe?

is this the curse of the moon of ill omen? or is it the threads of fate around her that she has chosen to love or fight or try to forgive, choking her alive?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: My dudes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your shoulder hurts. Your ribs too. You keep your arm across your middle as you drag your feet down the pavement. The impact of the bed frame continues to throb tenderly in your flesh. 

The embarrassment is worse than the pain. You barely hold back the hot tears behind your eyes. You can still hear Professor Smith’s voice. He was mortified, just as much as you. How can you ever face him again?  

You’re not going to. You give up. Lee is right. You’re too stupid. You’re useless. You’re destined to end up just like your mom. Not quite. You doubt there will ever be a man who would waste his time. 

You dab away the moisture along the brims of your eyes before you enter the convenience store. You nod at the cashier and duck down the middle aisle. You find a canister of your usual brand and linger before the shelf. You don’t want to go back yet, but you know the longer you take, the more reason there is for Lee to complain. 

You pay and head back out into the street. The sky is grey and clouds dampen the air. There’s a rainstorm coming. It’s a perfect setting for today. 

The apartment rises before you and you sigh in resignation. This is it. The rest of your life. Well... 

One day your mother will cast you out. It might be sooner than later with how Lee hangs around, how he commands her. He doesn’t see a place for you there. You don’t see one for you anywhere. What will you do then?  

As it is, all you have to your name is your laptop, your ratty clothes, and the debt you won’t be able to pay back when you fail this course and drop out. You’re defeated by the time you get to the top of the stairs. You keep your head down as you enter the apartment and slide the chain into place. 

You’re met with thick grunts and the slap of flesh. Your mom’s whimpers are muffled but Lee’s carnal noises are untethered. Your breath traps in your chest and your skin razes hotly. You try to ignore it as you enter the kitchen and set the canister on the counter, leaving the change on the lid. 

As you back up, there’s a glimmer of movement from your left. The bathroom door opens, revealing the back of Lee’s rutting body. You cover your eyes in horror as he huffs and puffs, your mother’s strangled cries trickling out as she’s hidden behind the door, between him and the sink. 

“Put a pot on,” he demands as he grips the door and bites his lip, putting more into his thrust, “we’re almost done.” 

He smirks and winks before he snaps the door shut. Your stomach stirs with nausea and you quickly spin away. You shake as you near the counter. You have no other choice. You know if you ignore him, he’ll make sure it all gets worse for you. He’s already ruined so much. 

You put the change aside and uncap the canister. You peel back the freshness seal, your bandaged hand making it all the more tedious. The coffee grounds catch on the gauze. You fill the tank of the machine and set the pot in place. You measure out the coffee and flip the lid down, hitting the red button before you walk away. 

You can still hear them. Even as you shut your bedroom door. You face your room and turn on the light. It’s worse than when you left. 

Your bed is half off the frame, your bookshelf’s been cleared onto the floor, your laundry basket is overturned, and your laptop... It’s under the chair. You cross the room and bend to pick it up. You examine it; loose hinges and the frame is peeling away from the monitor. Your heart plummets and you drop into the chair. 

You have to prop the screen up against the wall to keep it open. Awkwardly, you reach across the desk to reach the keyboard and hit the power button. To your surprise, it boots and the screen lights up. The colours are all off; the dark is now light and the reverse. The mouse pad doesn’t work, or half the keys. 

It takes you twenty minutes to sign in. Aside from your burnt hand, the state of the laptop is more than enough to deter you. You watch the desktop load helplessly and several notifications pop up along the right side of the screen. You don’t read any of them as you see the name; Dr. Raymond Smith. 

You know what they are. Just like before. He's repulsed by you. By the way you live. He saw the truth and you can't hide it any longer. It's not worth it to deny it any longer. 

It was all a stupid idea. As stupid as you. It's easier to just give up. You don't know why you tried in the first place. 

You'll put in a request to drop the course. If you can. You can't do much given the state of your laptop. You can't do much at all in life. That's the way it will always be. 

📓

The last... however many days you've been awake. Waiting. Dreading. Expecting Lee to burst in and humiliate you again. 

Every time you try to close your eyes, you swear you hear the door knob. You put the chair under the knob. You're so tired. Exhausted to the bone. You need sleep badly. 

You lay down, head swimming with agony, and your eyes close without another thought. You can't resist the heavy blanket of fatigue that drapes over you. There is nothing. A void of sheer desolation that wraps around your body, submerging you like dark water. 

You wake with a start. The vision of blue eyes fade in an instant. Eyes you know. Not the vivid irises of the sinister man in your mother's room, no a pair of almost crystalline orbs, soft and diligent. You shake of the thought and rub the stitch from your forehead. 

You smell. You've been wearing the same clothes since that day. How long ago was that? You can't count. You haven't showered, the room is the same mess he made of it, your life too. 

You don't move. You don't want to. Not until the gentle tap comes at the door. You groan as the handle turns but the chair keeps the door lodged in place.  

"Sweetie," your mom calls through, "will you let me in?" 

You stare at the door. Your limbs refuse to move. You can't lift even a finger. You close your eyes and listen to her beg. You hate that. You hear it constantly, the way she begs him to stop, to listen, or just to be kind. 

Go away. 

When you open your eyes next, there's a banging on the door. The chair lurches and the legs scrape on the floor, but the door stays shut. You hide again, pulling a pillow over your head. 

Time flows into vague droning and shades of grey. Your head is foggy and thick. Suddenly, you're awake and staring up at an angry face. You're torn out of the bed and dragged to sit at the edge. Only Lee's unbreakable grip keeps you from flopping onto your back. 

You stare up at him dumbly then your eyes search past him. The chair is broken on the floor. You look back to him, head lolling. You blink as he snarls. 

"What're ya doin'? You're drivin' your ma batty! And I gotta listen to it so you get your ass up." 

You try to swat him away and whimper as your hand pulses and fire course through your skin. You force your spine rigid and try to shrug him off. You shake your head and cradle your hand in your lap, the bandage stained and smelly with puss. 

"Get on you fucking feet," he lifts you as if you weigh nothing. You as good as dangle from his grasp, "cupboards are empty." 

"Sweetie," your mom's birdish cheep comes from the doorway, "we got the credits. I wrote a list for you." 

"Laying in the dark all day, what else you got?" Lee scoffs and lets you go. You waver on your feet and look dully over at your mothers shadow. "Fucking stinks in here." 

You shuffle past him silently. You don't know what to do, you just know you need to be away from him. You feel sick. You're dizzy and drained.  

You put out your uninjured hand to take the list from your mom. Your stench ripples off the hoodie. She smiles through a curled lip. 

"Sweetie, you should get changed first," she slurs and give a doelike flutter of lashes. Drunk, as always. Maybe you should start. Maybe you wouldn't have to feel so much. 

You nod and go to the closet. Lee prowls around your desk but you're too hazy to care. You pull out a new hoodie then go to the dresser to find some loose sweats.  

You stop and stare at the man standing by your bed. The thick silence strangles you as he growls under his breath. Your mom trills with nervous laughter. 

"Lee, come on, she gotta put new clothes on. Honey, can you make sure you grab an extra chop for him?" 

You shrug and you hug the rumpled clothing with one arm and stare at the floor. He can have yours. Your stomach is so empty, the very idea of food makes you want to wretch. 

"Mmm, stop dragging your ass," he snarls as he stomps to the door, "fucking starving." 

You wait until he slams it. You expect that. You don’t even react. You lay the clothing on the desk and peel off the dingy layers. You pull on the sweats and swoop the sweater over your head. If you keep the hood up, you won’t have to worry about your hair or face. 

You take the list and stuff it in your pocket. Each step is a stagger. Your body is stiff and sore. You go out into the hall and brace yourself for another attack. You only hear your mother murmuring in the kitchen. You edge away and sit on the floor as you put your shoes on.  

You stand and fumble with the locks on the door. You can barely get your fingers to co-operate and your burnt hand is in flames. The bandages barely cling to the flesh. You shut the door behind you without using the key and head down the hallway. 

Down the stairs, you can see the yellow sunlight seeping in through the front doors. You emerge, squinting into the shine, and raise your hand as you try to see through it. Your head pounds at the intensity of daylight.  

You trod between the freshly mowed plot of grass before the building and stop by the sidewalk. You sway and try to shake the cobwebs out. You look one way then the other. The heat gathers under your sweater and you hunch down even more. It’s an unusually warm day. 

Your name startles you before you can find your bearings and set off for the store. You must be delirious. Maybe you should’ve found some stale bread to chew on. Rings of colour form in your vision as you turn around to face the echo of your name. 

The figure moves decisively towards you. You have to be hallucinating. It can’t be him. It’s probably that guy who always asks for a light between puffing smoke towards the doors. 

“I’ve been emailing,” Professor Smith says. You lean back on your heel and grimace. He isn’t real. “You... are you well?” 

You stare at him. You try to see through the delusion but can’t. You look down at your trembling hand then turn to peer down the street. 

“I have to go,” you croak over your dry tongue. 

You turn away, feet tangling, and stagger on. You can hear him following. His steps are fleet and light. In a moment, he’s at your side. 

“Please, you look ill, slow down,” he touches your arm and you rip away from him. 

“Leave--” you stumble and throw your arms out to balance yourself, stopping short as you nearly keel over. “I’m okay.” 

“You clearly aren’t. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for over a week. After our last meeting, I’m certain you can understand my concern--” 

You face him and scrunch up your nose, “Professor,” you stammer out, “you don’t have to worry about me. No one does.” 

You quickly veer past him and fall into a clumsy sprint across the street. You barely dodge a car on your way to the other side and you’re out of breath as you meet the curb. You keep your head down as you hurry away, hoping he’s not persistent. He’ll go away. He’s not real, so you just have to stop thinking. 

[fic-over-cannon]

Part 2: The Decision

part 1 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason todd easily sees the potential for something more in his friendship with you but resolves to keep his distance.

tags: fluff, self-loathing, off-screen killing

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.8k

a/n: sooo i had planned to get the second chapter out much sooner, wrote it, realized that what i had planned for chapter 3 worked better, had to rewrite chapter 3 as chapter 2, and ended up here (cue the internal screaming). on the upside, that means you’ll all get an update on chapter 3 (formerly chapter 2) much sooner.

Jason Todd has somehow gotten back on track to graduate university, fallen in with a group of friends, and may have found the first person to truly understand him this side of the Pit. He’d been uncertain about finishing university, already dealing with the hassle of running a criminal empire and the tattered threads of his family relationships. But Talia had suggested, “Better not to be consumed by revenge so that one may properly enjoy its results,” and that had been all it took to convince him. Barbara, for all their problems still unresolved, had helped him hide the decision from the bats and hadn’t that been a lovely conversation to have?

Sitting in class that first day had been strange, a sense of deja vu hitting him of all the times he’d sat in classrooms before. A different person answers now when he’s called on to introduce Jason Todd. As part of his time with the League, Talia had arranged for him to take courses by correspondence but none of that had prepared him for it would be like to be in a classroom with a handful of 20-somethings. It makes him feel old to hear them discuss their plans for the future with the surety of a world that will shape itself to their expectations. If he’s honest with himself, it also makes him envious.

He hadn’t expected to be invited to lunch that first day, though he’d at least seen the blonde’s approach. It had been… nice to be noticed, like he was any other 22 year old new to campus and looking for friends. What had really caught Jason’s eye though was Danika’s (that’s what her name was, right?) friend, standing a few rows back. She’d looked downright mortified by her friend’s antics but had smiled tentatively at him anyway. He’d rushed through his meeting with Dr. Okafor, really just confirming a time to discuss his credit transfers. Clearly he’s interrupted yet another embarrassing moment for you, but you handle it with a grace that rivals only Alfred’s ability to deal with inconvenient situations.

That intrigues him though, your kindness even when uncomfortable. Finding out you’re from home, another Crime Alley kid that defied the odds but never forgot your roots endears you to him even more. You bite back, take the attention away from him when you see how flustered he is by Lina calling him pretty and he’s determined now to make you a friend.

You’re smaller than he thought once you’re finally sitting next to him. He’s acutely aware of how the booth forces the two of you together, the long length of him pressed up against your side. The way your knee knocks into his thigh and the soft cushion of where your hip meets his. You’re one of his already, one of those that the Red Hood has claimed as under his protection, but the reality of you drives home who his work is really helping. Your mention of food pulls him out of his thoughts and scrambling to rectify the situation by offering to share his own. He’s positively delighted by your reaction, the way your compliments freely given still have a bite to them that’s honest. A warmth in his stomach that doesn’t originate from the spices in his meal only makes him want to figure out more ways to draw you out of your shell.

You share another class with him in the afternoon and he’s thanking whichever lucky star is smiling down at him that he’ll get you to himself at least once a week for the next few months. Walking into class with an acquaintance, though maybe it's too soon to call you that, is everything he wanted in the time from Before. Lost day dreams of sharing a desk with a friend in high school, hanging out together after, longings for in-jokes and shared histories are rearing their heads. Class passes quickly, a flurry of information and a hyper awareness of how close his body is to yours. It’s only an introductory class, but already he can tell that you’re clever from the few times you speak up. Makes him look forward to the next class when he’d never planned for academics to be his priority.

Class lets out into the evening air just starting to turn crisp with a hint of dampness. He’ll have to go soon, get started with patrol now that darkness was coating the city. He turns to you and distracts himself from the strip of skin where your shirt rides up as you stretch by asking you about your plans for the evening. Walking you to the bus stop is nice, in a quiet kind of way. He stays until he’s sure you’re safely on the bus, doors closing with a pneumatic hiss. Walks off the path and out of the halo of the street lamp until the shadows have swallowed him whole. Takes care to check that no one’s looking and scales the side of the building, gothic stonework rough under his bare palms. Scans the horizon until he’s found your bus again and goes to follow. Thinks that maybe the paranoia that had persuaded him to pack most of his Hood gear in a school bag isn’t the worst thing to suffer from. It’s overboard yeah, but you’re a pretty girl planning to walk alone at night. He just wants to make sure that you get home all right. You weren’t exaggerating when you said the bus stop was only a block from your apartment, but he still breathes easier when he sees the warm glow of lamp light click on through your apartment window. You should have better locks on your window if it’s looking out onto a fire escape, he thinks idly. But its a problem for later and when he’s got a more solid reason to bring it up.

Patrol is quiet most of the night. Buoyed by the unexpected success of the day, his usual route feels brand new. He takes pleasure in the way the wind picks up his jacket and whips it around him, almost laughs out loud at the way his stomach swoops before the grappling line pulls taut. Jason’s managed a full day of normalcy, something that no one thought he could do. Not after everything. He’d talked to people his age that for once weren’t the victim of some terrible crime and came away with the potential for friendships. It’s been a long time since he’s had more than a work related conversation with his men or a cryptic conversation with Talia he doesn’t count all the arguments with his fath— with Bruce. For the first time in a long time being the Hood isn’t the burden it had become. The peace doesn’t last for long though.

A whisper of black fabric on a rooftop just outside of the territory he’s established brings him crashing back down, a reminder of just how badly his attempts at anything other than solitude have fractured. It’s a bracing kind hurt, like when the air’s too cold after a snowfall and you can practically taste the ice crystals as they tear into the soft heat of your lungs. He needs it though, that reminder that no one who knows him is capable of seeing him without the siren call of suspicion following him. That thought follows him through the rest of patrol and the mechanical motions of getting to bed. It solidifies as he drifts off to sleep just as the first rays of light start to clear the skyline. He’ll grasp at this chance to be someone else for a bit, Jason Todd the fresh faced student, but that’s all it’ll be. A façade to keep everyone else from getting too close. Danika, Will, “call me Lina”, Rei, even you. Friends, but at a distance.

Jason doesn’t have any classes on Tuesday, but he runs into you as he exits his meeting with Dr. Okafor. It’s a new building to him, despite the time he’s spent pouring over all of the campus’ blueprints. He turns a corner on a staircase looking for an exit and almost knocks you back down where you’d just emerged from.

“Hey! Are you blind or— oh. Jason.” Your tone goes from indignant to wondering in a second, eyes wide with recognition.

“Not blind, but definitely not paying enough attention. You good though?” And he should probably be a little more sorry about it, but the glee of not having to wait until the next week to see you again outweighs it.

“Oh after the class I just had, it’d take a lot more than that to ruin my day.” A group tries to pass you two on the stairs, buffets the two of you into the railing.

“You wanna take this somewhere else? Give me another chance to ruin your day?” He grins, lopsided but hopeful.

You nod, and he leads the way, hulking figure cutting through the stream of people. He finds a nook on the first floor, big overstuffed chairs surprisingly empty for this time of day. You throw yourself into a chair dramatically, a sigh on your lips as your head tilts back.

“Class really that bad?” He prompts you.

“God I hate assholes that manage to make the most interesting subject painful. Like, at least wait until the second class before you start telling every single student their interpretation is wrong.” You swipe a hand across your face before visibly trying to pull yourself back together. “But as much as I hate Duvall’s teaching it’s mandatory for my program so I’m just gonna have to put up with his shit until next semester. Get my revenge during prof evaluations.”

“Look we don’t know each other that well, but by my reckonin’ you know what you’re on about. Don’t let him shake you, yeah?”

“Oh I know all about not listening to people that think my opinion isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. It just pisses me off that I still gotta deal with it every week for the foreseeable future.”

“Hey I’m all ears.” He offers, and it’s not entirely altruistic. Jason wants to support you, but it’s also a chance to learn more about you. It’s all a chance to be regular civilian he tells himself, and a civilian would do this for a friend.

“I’d love to but I think it’s right about—“ and the alarm on your phone sounds out, “yep, its about time for me to head to my internship.” You start to gather your things together. “But usually our group gets together on Wednesday afternoons to grab lunch and study together. We usually grab the same table in the student union around noon if you want to join us.”

Jason does join the study session, not that he needs to. But it's nice to spend time with people who like who they think he is. He arrives just as you slide into the booth, secures himself the seat next you (and the rest of the bench for himself). Your hair falls as you spread out your books and Jason’s close enough to smell whatever product you used last. It dazes him for a minute, and its only the arrival of Lina and Rei that shakes him out of his stupor. He starts up a conversation with Rei on the Gotham U swim team and gets roped in to come practice with him sometime next week. Not to be out done, Lina gently starts asking him how he’s settling in. He answers noncommittally, more focused on the way you’ve started to twirl your pen between your fingers as you come across a particularly dense passage. Seeming to understand that she won’t get much more out of Jason, Lina nudges Rei and they turn to their own books, though not without a tight-lipped and knowing smile on her face. The four of you work in silence broken only by the scribbling of pens and clacking of keyboards. Danika and Will turn up just as your stomach starts rumbling, causing you to meet Jason’s eyes in embarrassment.

He winks at you, before pulling out two Tupperware containers with chopsticks. Sliding one over to you he pretends not to notice as at first you protest, then guiltily start digging in as soon as you smell it.

Brandishing your chopsticks at him, you say “Don’t think I’m not keeping score mister. This has got to count as psychological warfare, there’s no way a sane person could turn you down after tasting your food once.”

He tucks a smile away and simply keeps eating. Will drags over some chairs for him and Danika, the one extra person throwing off your previously established seating arrangements. Conversation buzzes at the other end of the table but he can’t tear his attention away from you enjoying the labours of his hands. Eventually the table turns back to studying and you slide the container back to him with murmured words of thanks. Even you can only study for so long, so it's no great surprise when your books softly thump closed. You rest your forehead on the table and groan.

“Why is there so much reading? It’s only the first week back.”

“Ooooh, you know what that means though?” Danika exclaims. “We have to celebrate the first week back and that means going out! We’ll get dressed up, I’ll do your makeup, we can pregame at mine. You know you want to.” She wheedles.

You mock groan at her pronouncement, turn to rest your temple on the table to make eye contact with her. “Lina does my makeup and we’re done by 1 AM.”

“Awe, killjoy,” the blonde pouts.

“Lina does my makeup, Jason’s in charge of picking the post-club takeout, and we’re done by 2 AM. Final offer.”

Lina grins at Jason before shrugging. “Fine by me.”

Jason’s not sure what to expect when he shows up to the address Danika had sent through the group text. It’s a nicer part of town, a part of Gotham Heights he’s had no reason to visit as either of his identities. The doorman lets him in without too much fuss once Danika calls down to confirm he’s expected. She lets him in excitedly, limbs uncoordinated with the help of a few drinks. Rei leans forward to pour Jason a drink and at the same time you turn to look for who had arrived. The first thing Jason notices is the shiny red lip gloss you’re wearing as your lips spread into a smile at the sight of them. Something about the colour, bolder than you usually wear, sends heat straight to his groin. He hadn’t even realized that his hearing had gone muffled until Rei asks him for a second time how many shots Jason wants in his drink. Oh, he thinks distractedly. This could be a problem.

It definitely is a problem when he’s washing blood off his hands in the early hours of the morning and the only thing he can think of is that same cherry red lip gloss wrapped around the straw of your drink under the club’s strobing lights. How you’d looked up at him with pupils dilated from the drink and the heat, lips parted and gloss catching the light. The self-loathing hits then, crippling in its intensity. You’re smart and funny and so pretty it makes his breath catch. The last thing you need is him fantasizing after you less than an hour after he’d taken a life. The colour of a man’s life blood shouldn’t be causing him desperate to see if you’d taste as sweet as you look. It’s selfish and cowardly but he doesn’t want to give you up just yet. Doesn’t want to see the little smiles and commiserating looks turn to fear and hatred just yet. No, he can do this. He can smile and play nice, play at the Jason Todd you deserve. The one that won’t make you worry or hurt you with the truth of himself. Rules, he decides, rules are what he needs because it’s oh so easy to get caught up in you.

He can get close, but he can’t touch. It doesn’t matter how soft your skin looks or how tempting it would be to play with your hair. If he lets himself touch he is lost.

He will never let himself enter your home. He’s already followed you there, it’s a lost cause to pretend that he won’t check up on your safety. Better to decide now to never cross that final threshold.

He won’t let you in. He’ll be the best friend he is capable of being but he won’t let you see the truth of him. After all, it’s what’s sent those that know him running.

He will never tell you that he’s ever thought about anything more than friendship.

[vvinirl]

steve rogers x black f!reader

breaking your own heart for him to find peace and happiness

warnings: angst

in the dim light of your small apartment, you sat curled up on the couch, clutching a worn copy of your favorite book. the cover of the book read ‘God Help the Child’, tales you had lived and breathed since childhood. but the words felt heavier tonight, tinged with the sorrow of reality

steve stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow. his eyes, usually so full of determination, were clouded with a mixture of gratitude and regret

"y/n.." he began, his voice a soft whisper, "i can't thank you enough for everything. you’ve been my anchor, my confidant”

you forced a smile, though your heart felt like it was being torn apart. "steve, you deserve happiness. real happiness" you paused, gathering the strength to continue. "peggy is your past, your future. she's your soulmate”

he moved closer, the scent of his familiar cologne wrapping around you like a bittersweet embrace. "what about us?" he asked, his voice cracking. "i care about you, y/n. more than you know”

tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, trying to stay strong. "and i care about you, steve. that's why i have to let you go. you and peggy... you have a chance to live the life you both dreamed of. don’t you see? you’re a man out of time, but she’s a part of that time”

steve reached out, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. "you’re incredible, y/n. i wish things were different

"me too..” you whispered, your voice barely audible. "..but they aren’t. you need to be with her. you deserve that happiness, even if it means i have to let you go”

he pulled you into a gentle embrace, and for a moment, you allowed herself to melt into him, memorizing the feel of his arms around you, the steady beat of his heart

the , with a deep breath, you pulled away. "go, steve. go to her"

he looked at you one last time, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face, before nodding slowly. "thank you, y/n. for everything and for a second chance”

as the door closed behind him, you collapsed onto the couch, the weight of your sacrifice settling heavily on you shoulders. you had given up the one person who made you feel truly alive so he could find his own happiness

and in the quiet of your now empty apartment, you allowed yourself to mourn, knowing you had done the right thing, even as it shattered your heart

[rivetgoth]

The fact that I’ve seen a few people try to analyze I Saw the TV Glow through a lens of it being about like, fandom and obsession with media and nostalgia being bad ?? is genuinely blowing my mind. Obviously there’s the fact that this movie is as unambiguously about being trans as it can possibly be without just saying outright “this is a movie about being trans” but I also think this is crazy because I would say it actually has one of the most unambiguously positive relationships with concepts like “media consumption” and “nostalgia” that I’ve seen in a movie.

Like, to say it’s a shallow interpretation of the film to call it “about media/fandom” (and especially a negative depiction of such things!) is putting it quite kindly because I kind of feel that anyone who utters such sentiments didn’t actually understand the core element of the entire movie: “The Pink Opaque” is not a show. Commentary the film makes about watching “The Pink Opaque” cannot translate to commentary on watching shows broadly because the movie spends half its runtime making it explicitly clear that “The Pink Opaque” may be a show that exists in a literal sense but is not one in a figurative sense. “The Pink Opaque” represents the possibilities of childhood and innocence. Innocence that still is not free from judgment—Owen gets told the show is for girls, Maddy’s friend accuses her of sexual harassment on account of her sexuality while they were watching it together—but it’s the moment in your youth (or any time! it doesn’t have to go away!) when the possibility of queerness and more explicitly queer utopia feels real to you. The external pressures to conform are still there but you can tune them out if just for a moment to envision a future and a life for yourself free of it and living authentically. I think this is an experience all LGBT people can relate to, but in the case of ISTTVG it’s very explicitly primarily focusing on queer femininity, predominantly transfemininity, but in Maddy’s case as well she is a queer woman (I’ve seen some interpretations of her as transmasculine but I disagree personally). Hence the on-the-nose nature of it being PINK.

What feels very genius about Schoenbrun making it about a show though is that it’s so generational, right? For all of us LGBT people who grew up in the age of screens that WAS where a lot of that early imagination going wild resided. The first time you explore a new name is on anonymous forums. The first time you explore your masculinity or femininity is with which character you relate to in a show, or which gender you select in Pokémon. Movies and shows with “queer subtext” or even without give young LGBT people the chance to envision relationships and futures for themselves, what many grow up and call “shipping.” You have your first gay crush while watching your favorite movies. You envy those of your true gender while watching your favorite movies. Amongst many other things when Maddy watches “The Pink Opaque” she’s given access to a world where two women share this intimate connection and overcome obstacles together. When Owen watches “The Pink Opaque” they’re given access to a world where femininity is a real option for their future.

The relationship these characters have to “The Pink Opaque” is a net positive and the movie makes that so incredibly obvious when Owen goes back to rewatch it later and finds that it’s nothing like how they remembered, it feels childish and immature and dumb. That is a bad thing. This is a bad thing. The movie wants you to see this as a bad thing. This is the result of repression, of conversion therapy, of violent coercion into normative lifestyle—That sense of limitless possibility is destroyed and the idea of accessing one’s transness, of imagining this utopia where you CAN be yourself and live as a woman, strong and beautiful on the other side of the screen as said in the film, is lost. Now you tell yourself it feels silly, it feels childish to imagine such things, it’s not nearly as deep and meaningful as you believed it was when you were younger and less inhibited, or it’s at the very least easier to tell yourself that. Owen’s feeling embarrassed is of note here. If it weren’t for these external pressures that have been internalized they very well may have been able to still enjoy the show, even as they’ve aged and grown and matured, even if their perspective has changed a little. But they can’t. Not yet, at least.

I feel kind of out of my mind seeing people try to approach it through a lens of commentating on media consumption because it’s so deeply missing the layers of what’s actually being said… and not even in a wildly obfuscated way. The movie is ABOUT the relationship these characters have to “The Pink Opaque” and how the loss of that is a bad thing. How you can possibly watch it and see it being about some kind of growth from obsessive media consumption is mind boggling to me. Seeing multiple reviews and posts in tags about it is crazy. One thing I really like about this movie is that it so confidently argues for a more positive interpretation of being obsessed with “fantasy” and the childlike wonder of the limitless possibilities of fiction. I think that’s a very very trans narrative, as I mentioned it feels tied deeply into Queer Utopia, and I find it much more bold of a stance to take. In a world where people tell trans individuals (and especially trans women) that their identities are works of fiction or products of the imagination or even caused by excessive media consumption, to embrace these things and turn them over and use them as a symbol of the whimsy and innocence and excitement that first ignites that spark as a positive, thrilling, beautiful thing is very cool.

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✰ sinking lily pads

— synopsis. he thrived in the sorcerer world, she was forced into it. how could two people that strayed so differently from each other become so close?

— pairing. gojo x oc!fem!reader (main), toji fushiguro x oc!fem!reader

— word count. 3.6k

— contents. heavy child abuse, torture, neglect, abandonment, angsty asf, injuries, blood/gore, depressing thoughts, suicidal ideation, dissociation, ptsd, mentions of death, jjk violence/fighting

— notes. sorry for the late updates, life's been busy but here ya go <3 enjoy!

series masterlist | previous chapter

✰ chapter five. this is who you’ve become, a monster

The odd thing about slowly spiraling into the realization that you're losing your soul— is the pure reminder that you still have one.

It was unsettling. Confusing. Completely frustrating to even accept that such thing would occur.

Hadn't I gone through enough? Moon wondered.

She had suffered through enough for someone's lifetime— why was it that life kept throwing obstacles her way. Testing time and time again if she was worthy of living in this world.

She knew she'd only grow worse as the days passed on, and that should've been a thought that terrified her— but somewhere within her, she felt she deserved the pain.

"I can't help but wonder it is you're thinking about Miss Dair. Nerves?" Geto had asked from her right.

She sent him a weak smile, one that seemed believable enough.

"Not exactly. I've just been thinking about the future, where I'll be in a couple years. Months. Days." She listed off, staying true to her word and trying to be more honest with her friends.

Odd, it still felt weird to call them friends. Of course that's exactly what they were to her— but she still had an instinct to push them away. Keeping them strictly classmates.

"I can see why that would keep you so distracted. It's kinda scary to think about, hm?" Geto admitted to his own fears and anxieties.

"Not me. I know exactly where I'll be and who I'll be in the future." Gojo stated confidently.

You rolled your eyes, while Geto almost did the same, instead asking him.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?"

Gojo lowered his glasses to the edge of his nose, meeting eyes with both Moon and Geto.

"I'll be with you guys, of course. Oh— and obviously I'll still be the strongest."

Geto and Moon looked at each other, soft smiles showing for a moment before the two broke into little giggles.

The trio walked in a comfortable silence for a little while longer, until Gojo suddenly shoved some bills in her hand.

Moon looked at him in question.

“I just remembered there’s a sweet treat shop around here, was wondering if you could go get me something?”

Moon couldn’t help the smile on her lips. Leave it to Gojo to have the biggest sweet tooth of anyone ever.

She also just couldn’t say no.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“Hmm… surprise me.”

Moon nodded, breaking off from the two and making her way towards the sweet shop— one she knew of already. Besides, her and Gojo had been to this sweet shop many times— years ago.

Moon picked out a few things, making sure to use up all the money he’d given her. Being sure to fill up the bag with lots of sweets— given that this mission might be a longer one than usual.

She thanked the employee, making her way outside. Before she could start heading back towards her friends, she bumped into someone’s shoulder— causing her to drop the bag of sweets— luckily nothing spilling.

She was apologizing before thinking.

“My apologies, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She didn’t even look up to the person, bending down to grab the bag. That was, until the person had grabbed the bag for her. She wasn’t at all interested in this person, that was until she saw the strong, veiny hand grab the tan colored bag.

It hadn’t clicked as weird that the person still didn’t say anything, instead standing upright— waiting for her to as well.

Moon straightened back up, her eyes finally meeting with the stranger. With a gasp, she realized that this wasn’t a stranger at all— in fact, it was a little more haunting than that.

“T-toji?”

Toji stood tall, physique blanketed in a black sweater, a smirk on his lips as he gazed down at her.

“Long time no see darling.”

Moon shuttered, as she hadn’t heard his voice in so long. Although as years had passed since the last time she saw him— his voice was so much deeper and rougher. His hair was longer, still looking as unkept as it had been. She wondered for a moment if this even was him— but the scar on the corner of his mouth was all the proof she needed.

“You… you aren’t real…” She whispered to herself, thinking this was just a hallucination.

Toji was dead. That’s what the Zenin’s told you. He was dead. He had to be dead.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m very much real.”

Moon had to control the familiar burn starting within her nose, the threat of tears from his words.

‘Sorry to disappoint you’ He had said.

Moon wanted to scream at him that it was quite the opposite. To think she ever wanted Toji dead, the mere possibility making her sick to her stomach. When the Zenin’s had informed her of Toji’s death, she was devastated. Crippled from the information. He was the one thing that was keeping her together while she was stuck there. He couldn’t possibly think that she thought any other way.

Although standing in front of him now, where had he gone? Did he escape? How was he hidden from her all those last years, where she suffered with the Zenin’s alone?

“I don’t understand…”

“No, you wouldn’t really. It’s a long story I suppose, but I don’t really care to tell you about it.” He was cold.

Moon wasn’t shy of this kind of behavior from him, but he was colder than he’d ever presented himself as.

“Besides, I’m here on business sweets. I don’t have time for a reunion.” He muttered, “You’re looking good though, see you have been doing well. Living that sorcerer life, huh?”

His words seemed kind, but it was everything but that. They were back handed, clearly noting how the years hadn’t been kind to her.

Moon didn’t know what to say. She was closer to crying than she’d been in a long time. She felt her mask slipping through her fingers.

Toji tilted his head in amusement at her stunned expression.

“You this surprised to see me?”

She kept staring at him like she was looking at a ghost, unable to accept he was really standing here.

“I thought you were dead.” She whispered finally.

Toji just stared at her, eyes narrowing in on her face— almost studying every one of her micro expressions.

“You thought wrong.”

Her hand twitched at her side, desperate to touch him— feel that he was really there. But he seemed so, different, so much more harsh than she remembered. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her touch.

She swallowed, choosing the change the subject— even though she wanted to sit down and talk with him, going over every moment they missed since they last saw each other.

“You said you were here for business… what do you mean by that?”

He tilted his head, an amused expression on his face.

“Curious, aren’t we?” He commented, “I don’t think that’s important for you to know.”

It was her turn to squint her eyes, studying him now. He was being so vague and mysterious— why?

“I need to get going now.” He announced, handing her the bag of sweets.

She took it hesitantly, her eyes glued on his smug look. He just looked like he knew something she didn’t.

She didn’t know why she was all of a sudden getting a horrible out in her stomach from his presence— especially after he used to be such a light in her life. Years ago that was, but still.

She nodded in thanks before turning quickly to head back to her friends, not even giving him a goodbye. She was quickly halted in her escape, Toji’s hand grabbing onto her arm harshly.

“Hey,” She glanced back at him, “Let’s meet up later, yeah?”

She could only stare back at him, his touch on her arm making her go back into a stunned silence— confirming that he was indeed real. Her Toji was standing right in front of her. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest as she glanced down to his hand wrapped around her arm.

She swallowed before nodding, unable to speak from her small state of shock.

At that, he released her arm, stepping back with his eyes still on her— before he turned and walked away. Disappearing into the crowd of people walking across the street.

She didn’t watch his figure for too long, turning and quickly making her way back to Gojo and Geto, desperately trying to calm her racing heart.

The stares from people she passed went unnoticed, the confused glances sent her way as people saw her panicked state— her pace almost matching a sprint.

Moon couldn’t accept who she saw. She had to, but her mind was at war. Everything she believed— crumbling before her eyes. The lies, the stories— how much of what the Zenin’s told her was true?

She wanted to feel relieved from seeing Toji alive, but instead she felt sick. She felt messed with, her mind a game board for the Zenin’s to fiddle with. She hadn’t prepared herself to be forced back into the mindset— the mindset when she had heard Toji was dead.

It was the blurry memory of the years that passed after that, the horrid nights. The sweaty men visiting her at the late hours— the violation of it all. It came crashing into her, as she didn’t have any walls up. Nothing strong enough to keep the past from haunting her yet again.

Without Toji to cling to, it was hell— and to think he was alive the whole time made her sick. Had he hid away from her? Had he escaped without her? Why wasn’t he there?

Why wasn’t he there? Why wasn’t he there?? Why wasn’t he there???

She flinched backwards, her face colliding with a sturdy chest. If she was in her right mind, she would’ve smelled the familiar scent.

“Woah Nines! Where are you in a rush to?” The white haired sorcerer joked.

Moon went frozen in his hold, his hands on the sides of her arm to hold her upright— they felt foreign to her all of a sudden. The memory of the filthy men consuming her.

Gojo noticed her scared expression, his brows furrowing as he leaned down closer to her.

“Nines?” He tried again.

Her eyes shot up to his, her eyes wide and full of fear— her look making Gojo sick to his stomach. Never did he want her to look at him like that.

“Hey hey, you alright?”

Moon’s eyes danced from eye to eye, forcing herself to be familiar with his hypnotic blue orbs.

It was Gojo. It was only Gojo. She forced herself to remember.

Gojo couldn’t stand seeing her like this, his own anxiety bubbling within him.

“Moon, look at me,” He gently grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to level his face, “What happened?”

Her body shivered, the wave of warmth unexpected from his gesture. Her body relaxing slightly at his presence suddenly. Her bottom lip trembled as she fought her hardest to keep the tears from exposing themselves.

Gojo watched while he held his breath, patient as ever as he waited for a response. Although he never got one, instead she crashed herself against him. Burying herself into his embrace so desperately. Almost as if she was trying to hide from the world.

“Hey, Moon… it’s okay. I’ve got you… shhh.” He cooed, one of his hands cradling the back of her head while the other pressed tightly to the small of her back. “You’re okay. You’re okay… I’ve got you now.”

As much as she wished to slap herself out of this pathetic state, she only clung to his jacket with desperation. Her face buried into his chest, her tears drenching the fabric.

Gojo was confused— unsure of what brought on this reaction from her. However, he didn’t need an explanation right away. If it was comfort she so needed, he’d provide her with just that. If only she knew of how far Gojo would willingly go for her. He’d do anything she so asked.

The amount of power she held over him was terrifying— but he let her.

The only indication he got proving that she was crying, was the small jumps her body did every so often. Her sobs silenced by his chest, and by herself trying so hard to stay quiet. His heart throbbed within him, he himself hurting for her.

What came with the empathy, also came the rage. The primal desire to hunt and destroy whatever had caused you such pain. He was protective when you were in such a state, especially when you clung to him like this. He felt like he could destroy the whole world in the blink of an eye if it were the cause of your pain. He’d do it in a heartbeat.

As he thought before, you had so much power over him. It chilled him to his core.

Moon activated her cloaking technique, the ability bleeding onto him— and soon they were both hidden from the world.

Gojo felt the surprisingly pleasant buzzing sensation from Moon’s technique being used. Cloaking was quite useful in battles against enemies who didn’t know how to counter it— all the more useful when Moon could make others invisible as well.

Although he didn’t dwell on the pleasant buzz for long, instead curious as to what brought out this fear within her. This deep fear that made her want to hide.

“Moon, you gotta tell me what’s going on? You’re kinda scaring me.” He whispered, petting her hair down in the back of her head.

Moon pulled back, avoiding his concerned eyes as she pulled him gently to an empty alley. Gojo allowed her to lead him.

Only then when they were hidden away from prying eyes did she release her cloaking, the familiar ache in her head from use.

Gojo’s brows were drawn in, his expression soft as he stayed patient but it was clear he was eager to know what the cause of her distress was.

Moon sucked in a shaky breath, her hands trembling at her sides, her fingers fiddling with the ends of her uniform.

“I haven’t been completely transparent about my past.” Her voice was shaky, strained with fear. “For that, I’m sorry.”

Gojo was quick with the shake of his head, taking a step forward towards her.

“Moon, don’t you dare apologize.”

“It’s only fair you know. All my weird behavior. The stuff I…” She trailed off, her thoughts wandering back to their conversation days ago, “The things I hinted at… you deserve to know everything.”

Gojo held a pained look, not liking her need to reveal her past. Not that he’d mind. He’d be willing to hear her out whenever and by the ear she needed— but he couldn’t help but feel like she was forcing herself to bring up her past when she didn’t want to.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. Only if you want to.” He told her, holding her gaze with intensity.

Suddenly he wanted her back in his arms. His body felt colder without her touch.

“I want to.” Her voice was calm, her eyes holding his so deeply it had Gojo stirring up old feelings he tried to bury down.

He swallowed through a tight throat, nodding to her as his only response. 

She walked closer to him, causing Gojo’s hands to twitch at his sides. He wanted to hold her, needed to.

“You know I come from the Zenin Clan. Not blood but, that was my home for a while.” She told him, her voice barely a whisper. Like she was afraid of someone hearing. 

Gojo nodded, listening with unease. 

“I met someone there when I was young. They brought me comfort and we quickly became friends. He was one of the reasons I held on for so long– kept me sane.” Her lips couldn't help but quirk up from the memory of her and Toji so small.

Meanwhile, Gojo’s eyes narrowed. He? 

“He?” He hadn’t meant to voice his thoughts, but he was curious– jealous. 

Moon glanced up and read his expression. 

“His name was Toji.” The name felt bitter off of her lips, which saddened her. It hadn’t ever been like that– felt like that. 

“He was a Zenin?” 

“Born into the clan, yes.” She answered before chewing her lip. 

Gojo knew she hadn’t made her point yet, the storytelling only building up to something he probably wasn’t prepared for. 

“I saw him today.” She mumbled, Gojo barely catching it. 

His brows furrowed and he wondered.

“Was that why you were upset?” 

Moon nodded, the memories of the reunion only moments ago flashing in her mind. 

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was colder, more detached as he became protective– possessive. 

Moon closed the distance and grabbed onto his arms, forcing him to gaze into her eyes. 

“No, not physically at least.” Her words hadn’t comforted him like he hoped. “He was just… different from the last time I saw him. Just shocked me.” 

His eyes softened at her vulnerability, her willingness to be so open and honest. All because she wanted to. It warmed his heart as much as it pained him to know about her past. 

“I know it’s stupid to be upset about that but… he is the only good thing I cling to when it comes to my past.” She rushed out, while Gojo was now leaning down and looking into her eyes. 

“You need to stop apologizing. It’s okay to be upset. You’ve been through a lot.” He reassured her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms, her body relaxing from the sensation. 

She nodded and crushed herself to his chest, her arms looping around his lower back. She could feel his one second of surprise before he was caging himself around her. Finally, his body felt warm again. 

“Thank you.” She breathed.

“Don’t.” He mumbled into her hair, the memory of younger Toji’s voice echoing just as Gojo had said. 

With what she thought would bring unpleasant emotions, the moment only brought her comfort. A healing of her younger self. She didn’t think it was possible, but by his side it felt like it.

[hillbillyoracle]

Hi!! For your Spotify divination!

How do I deal with simetaneoly wanting a romantic relationship and also being disgusted and oppositional to the idea? Like I guess I more want to know what the universe has to say about that because it confuses the hell out of me 😂🤦‍♀️ 😐

My alter-ego, he’s an escape artist He’s only truly happy when he’s under arrest Oh how he handsome, scheduled to hang to death He’s only truly happy at the precipice

[touchlikethesun]

okay so. don’t crucify me. but su she and jin guangyao do actually make some pretty compelling points.

[piningpercussionist]

literally my favorite blog on tumblr. Ur perfect at being Kim Pine and I love the little notes it the tags :3

(^ this is me at you rn)

Thank you so much <333 it seriously means the world to me that people love/like my Kim stuff. AND to know that some of yall actually read my silly little notes

I try to keep her as in character as I can, and I feel I have been largely successful, for the most part. I feel like she comes fairly naturally to me- I only occasionally hit snags,, but usually that's just because I'm high or something and am overcome with the desire to Maximize The Silly shfgkjshjld She's so serious though, usually. I love her <3 I love getting to be her for The People

[jackdawsfavorite]

Trying to listen to something about that small college in Florida Desantis took over for politics but hearing it described as it was before reminded me of college-hunting with my mom and triggered the shit out of me.

[savageday6]

😓

[bxdtime-ceai]

?

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposable and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[lucyrose191]

OBSESSED|| J.F POTTER

Pairing; James Potter x Fem!Girlfriend!reader

Summary; It’s no secret that James Potter is absolutely obsessed with his girlfriend and he couldn’t be more in love.

Warnings; None. (Fluff.)

HP/Marauders Master List

The entirety of Hogwarts were not ignorant of the knowledge that when James Potter loved, he loved hard and he did it with everything he had in him.

They had seen it in the way he treated his closest friends and they had most definitely seen it when they had seen him pine after Lily Evans, trying with everything in him to gain her affections.

However, after at least a hundred hairline cracks to his heart it was important to make the decision to move on from the red head before his heart broke in two.

It was hard to believe that the Potter boy had truly decided to put the red head behind him, even his friends weren’t really sure they believed him but it just so happened that the boy was telling the truth.

He no longer put on grand performances professing his love, no longer sent gifts via owl flying through the Great Hall and no longer tried to ask out Lily on a date.

Instead he took time to focus on himself, his studies and his friends.

It turns out that when your entire focus is simply on the girl you thought was the love of your life and pranking others it could really affect a person’s grades and so when Minnie had suggested the idea of a tutor he happily agreed with her, he wanted to prove that he really was serious about his studies and his future, not just to his professors but to his parents too.

He wanted to be more than a spoilt, rich boy that got handed everything he could ever need.

He wanted to earn the opportunities he was being given.

Lucky for him, he got a lot more than he was bargaining for when he walked into McGonagall’s classroom that day to find you sitting at one of the desks with your head stuck in a book, waiting for him.

Not only did his grades start skyrocketing but he found that with each tutoring session he spent with you a weight began to grow in his chest, only growing heavier with each moment you spent together.

He’d begin to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him, hair messily pulled back away from your face, eyes narrowed in concentration as you read whatever book you had with you that week, he thought you were adorable.

Slowly, he had accepted the fact that he did indeed, have a crush on you.

He approached it differently than he had with Lily though, instead of grand gestures and eccentric performances, he instead settled for subtle acts of service and innocent touches.

An entire two months he had spent sending subtle glances your way, asking innocent questions to get to know you better, strategically taking notice in the way you’d react to his minor compliments or soothing touches to try and find out if you in some way felt the same.

He thought you did, you had to, right?

He wasn’t imagining the way your cheeks would turn pink when he brushed his hand against you or the way you’d shyly refuse eye contact with him when he looked at you a certain way.

He couldn’t have been imagining it.

He wasn’t. When he eventually bit the bullet and asked you out on a date he couldn’t believe it when you had agreed.

A night spent in the Astronomy Tower with your favourite snacks as you talks for hours and watched the stars had been the start of it all.

There was no doubt about it that James Potter loved you, Hogwarts had never seen him happier.

"He’s doing it again," Sirius groaned, seeing the way James was sitting with his head rested against his palm, seemingly in a daydream as he stared across the hall at you.

It would’ve been deemed creepy if they didn’t know he was staring at his girlfriend, you.

"Leave him alone, Padfoot, he’s in love," Remus teased, briefly glancing up from the novel he was reading, it amazed him every time at just how easy it was to read the emotions swimming in his friend’s hazel eyes.

"He was never like this with Lily," Peter piped up through a mouth of pastry.

Sirius gave him a look of disgust before commenting "He doesn’t even know who Lily is anymore, there’s only two women that exist to our Prongs here and those are his mother and the girl he’s currently staring holes into."

There was no indication that James had heard Sirius’ words but he suddenly jumped up from his seat, startling his three friends. "I need to go give Y/N a hug before she forgets about me." He briefly explained before hurrying towards his girl.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Sirius mutters in disbelief, all three of them turning to stare at where you were now in James’ arms, looking up at him with a loving smile.

There was no lie in the saying that Potter’s only fall in life once, they just first need to learn the difference between love and infatuation.

He had been infatuated with Lily, but he was beyond in love with you.

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍

SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 basks in the fact that you're ofically his. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 x Reader (gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified) Tw. buying reader, kidnapping, general lack of consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, power imbalance, blackmailing, threatening; A/N: Quick reminder. I do not support this kind of behaviour. This is just a piece of fiction and serves as enetrtaimnet purposes only.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 who had bought you.

Earlier that week, unknowingly to you, he visited a small apartment you and your family were occupying. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was aware where and how you were living but it still mortified him how you – his precious darling – could be living like that. 

“You deserve better…more…” he repeated in his head every time he thought about you. Which was always. So it didn't come as a surprise to anyone he had decided to do something about it sooner than later.

Yes, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 greatly appreciated being so warmly welcomed by (his soon to be in-laws) your family. He even witnessed himself from where you got some of your traits from but business needed to be made.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was straight forward from the start.

The deal was simple: he will pay your family a handsome sum of money monthly and you'll belong to him wholly. They'll completely disappear from your life, becoming nothing but a shadow of your past. In his head he knows you won’t need them anymore.

If not, their financial situation which was already bad will be even worse. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 is a man of power and has a lot of money. Your parents, knowing this, quickly understood that it's either willingly giving you away and getting the money or he will forcefully do so with them landing on a street, probably dead.

From the beginning, they had no choice.

"And here you are, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 whispered lovingly into your ear before gently laying you on the king size bed. You were put in a deep sleep by an alcohol you drank during his luxurious party (he threw to celebrate sealing the deal but shhh...) and strong sleeping pills he had added to one of your drinks. He made a mental note to pay the doctor he got them from an extra since you didn't even twitch the whole way you were carried here.

"I hope the bedroom will be to your liking." Your (captor) future husband carefully took off your shoes and laid them by your new bed. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 wanted you to be as comfortable as one person can be. Then he took the neatly folded blanket made from the highest quality silk and processed to snuggly tuck you in. When he finished, you looked like the bed could swallow you at any given moment.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 couldn’t help himself and brought his hand to your head, caressing it while staring at your face in adoration. "If not I'll change it however you like it."

Secretly, he hoped you'll be sharing a bedroom (especially bed) soon.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sat down by your side, the softest mattress he could find easily dipping under him. He didn’t care that he was wrinkling his expensive party wear consisting of a black tuxedo imported straight from Italy that accentuated his lean body in every positive way. He was looking his absolutely best. For you.

"Oh how I love you, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 purred and his fingers ghosted over your cheek. He leaned down close enough to your face that your soft breaths were fanning him. Some of his slicked back hair fell down tickling your forehead. His mesmerizing eyes were gleaming with the passionate and deep rooted love he had for you. "You belong to me."

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sealed your fate with a peck on your lips.

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