#or “look you can make toast here too”
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therayofsonshine · 1 day ago
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was in a&e, so no better time to do this than now! (edit: missed the entirety of this as i was logged out. FUCK. so… um here is day 17 to 24. the very late version.)
day 17: my camera roll in my dr is.. honestly a vibe. but i have the weirdest shit going on over there. it’s tame to begin with: photos of england n my family. n then it just goes to shit: pics of our empty house with boxes everywhere and carnage from moving in and getting accustomed to a new environment. and tbh i can’t be arsed to delete anything 😭 so i’ve just left it and pray i can find the photos i need in time.
i wish i had a way to organise all of my camera roll into eras of my life and categories regarding photos. but.. that’s definitely something to add to my script.
day 18: i’ve scripted in a spontaneous drinking night for the reality show. i’m somewhat subscribed to the whole “drunk words are sober thoughts” thing so it would be really interesting to see what people think of certain topics/people on the show after a few games haha. this hasn’t happened yet but i’m really looking forward to how that one pans out!
day 19: i have a few hobbies in my dr! some are a work in progress whilst others i am confident + comfortable getting on with. they include and are not limited to: thrifting (my original occupation in this dr was a fashion student, but i changed my mind as it just happens randomly and i fear i would lose all love for it if forced to create), music (ironic as my boyfriend is literally an idol), crochet/knitting, and drawing.
i enjoy making things and making myself and others feel good whilst doing them. i have knitted my family/friends quite a lot of clothing (i am LITERALLY keeping the bills paid and lights on and providing clothes on the back’s of my family like damn!). if i’m not working i’m doing one of these things. n enjoying every bit of it.
day 20: i’ve recently discovered - in fact - my main love language is NOT words of affirmation (tho it is still one of them), but quality time (which actually makes more sense to me). so any date that revolves around me spending time with another person is quite literally the most romantic thing ever. FUCK romance!!!!!
for example, recently in my CR two of my friends watched the entirety of the hobbit trilogy with me in one sitting, into the early hours of the morning. and i am STILL telling people about it because it meant the world to me. those films are long too! so! yea, something like that.
day 21: WORKING. i work too much in my cr n now i have to do it in my dr as well????? damn it’s almost like i signed up for this! but i guess that’s one of the downsides of having a family business: i actually have to help out and do the work. yikes. no i’m kidding (kinda), but working in a café is not for the weak.
also, not really a downside - as again, signed up for it - but watching people want and like yunho before i go out with him. (context: this is a dating reality show dr, so people are going to fancy him alongside me. but can i blame them?). it doesn’t make me uncomfortable or awkward tbh, just a little like… oh! oh 😔.. oh 😏😏😏. you get me.
day 22: i scripted i can cook. (….yea.) i just cannot. i can make beans on toast but that’s as chef-like i get in the kitchen, unfortunately. and obviously having to work in a baking environment + serving customers food that may potentially poison them if it doesn’t agree with them, i need to know how to cook.
that’s as good as it gets i’m afraid!
day 23: MY FAMILY ARE SUCH LOSERS LMFAO. we do those matching pyjamas on Christmas Eve. we also make gingerbread houses! which is very fun!!!!
day 24: the vibes of this dr!!! it’s technically a dr for me to be on a reality dating show so a lot of it revolves around being in love (am not complaining yo…)
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day 25 (FINALLY): i spend xmas with my family. my family always book the week off and we close the café for christmas because let’s be frank who tf is coming into our shop on christmas day????? nobody yo. we’re not even in korea anyways so the shop just sits dead - and collects dust - during that time of the month. it’s a fun game to place bets on the state of the building after we return - tho we do try to leave it spotless when we leave.
xmas is always chaotic with my family it’s so funny. someone always ends up drunk and singing - eventually roping the rest of the family into it (or most LMFAO).
𝟐𝟓 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒. ❆ ⋆⁺₊❅ .
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a series of questions for the days leading up to christmas for shifters!! Some of these questions are Christmas specific and others aren’t, feel free to answer what you want and how you want, ex. moodboards, short answers, longs answers. And if you’d like, you can reblog so it reaches more shifters. Merry Christmas and Happy Shifting :) post tags are #shiftmas #shiftmas2024 tagged: @arishifter
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⌗ 𝟏. christmas caroling ; What are a few songs that remind you of your dr? Why?
⌗ 𝟐. gingerbread houses ; What does your house look like in your dr? Who do you live with? What is your favorite aspect of your house?
⌗ 𝟑. eggnog ; What is some drama going on in your dr?
⌗ 𝟒. sledding ; What does a hang out with you friend group look like? Where do you go? Who is your friend group?
⌗ 𝟓. snowman ; What is your OOTD? (outfit of the day)
⌗ 𝟔. stockings ; What is your family like? What are your relationships with different members? Any extended family? Who is visiting for Christmas?
⌗ 𝟕. candy canes ; What gives you dr euphoria? (like gender euphoria but for your dr…)
⌗ 𝟖. mistletoe ; Who is your s/o? What is your dynamic and how do you spend time together? Are you two doing something special for the holiday?
⌗ 𝟗. snowflakes ; What are some headcannons you have about people in your dr?
⌗ 𝟏𝟎. icicles ; What is your occupation in your dr? Your coworkers? (Or if student, your classmates?) What is your favorite and least favorite aspect of your occupation?
⌗ 𝟏𝟏. tree skirt ; How did you find out about shifting? What was your first dr and what is your main dr now?
⌗ 𝟏𝟐. ornaments ; What are some objects you have in your dr that you don’t in your cr? Why do you have them in your dr?
⌗ 𝟏𝟑. sleigh bells ; Are there any priveleges you have in your dr that you don’t in your cr? What are they?
⌗ 𝟏𝟒. cookie cutters ; What are some smells that remind you of your dr? Why?
⌗ 𝟏𝟓. elf on the shelf ; who is your main wingman/women/person? What is your dynamic? What do you guys do when you hang out?
⌗ 𝟏𝟔. wrapping paper ; What is your favorite way to script? Why is it your favorite way?
⌗ 𝟏𝟕. gift tags ; What is your camera roll like in your dr? (photos or just describe it)
⌗ 𝟏𝟖. snowballs ; What is a silly scenario you are looking forward to in your dr?
⌗ 𝟏𝟗. mittens ; What are your hobbies in your dr? How do you usually spend your down time?
⌗ 𝟐𝟎. ice skates ; What is your ideal date in your dr? (friends or s/o)
⌗ 𝟐𝟏. coal ; What is something unpleasant you have/have to experience in your dr? Why are you not looking forward to it?
⌗ 𝟐𝟐. tinsel ; What is something fun or random you have scripted? (ex. Thundersnow is more common, you have a ring that allows you to read minds, you have good luck with thrifting, you’re good at gambling.)
⌗ 𝟐𝟑. fir tree ; What are some traditions you have in your dr but not your cr? Why?
⌗ 𝟐𝟒. hot cocoa ; put together a moodboard of your dr or you in your dr
⌗ 𝟐𝟓. christmas ; How are you spending your christmas? Who with? What might be some gifts you are giving and to who?
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divider credits.
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shurisneakers · 2 days ago
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hey I wanna say I absolutely love your writing ,English is not my first language but your writing cracks me up every time I absolutely adore your work! I wanted to throw in an idea for misery loves company because I really like the grumpy×grumpy ,what about them being loners/grumpy in a wedding,maybe it's Steve's or someone else on the team and they share a quiet dance on the balcony or something so yeah that's my idea ,again love your works ♥️♥️♥️♥️
a/n: hello! thank you for your kindness and for sending this in, I hope you like it <3
this is part of misery loves company but is just a stand alone fic. you don’t need to read anything before this
warnings: swearing, light angst
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You slip out before the first toast.
The balcony is quiet, the air sharp against your skin. Below, the city hums, distant and indifferent. The music is still loud behind you, but out here, it’s muffled, softened by the wind.
You don’t belong inside.
The thought comes unbidden, bitter in your mouth.
So the balcony is cold, the air sharp against your skin. The city sprawls below, distant and untouchable. The music inside is muffled now, voices blending together, champagne bubbling in glasses. It’s still too loud.
You lean against the railing, fingers gripping the cold marble. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you don’t care.
You exhale, press your palms against the railing, giving yourself five seconds before you call an Uber to get home.
Behind you, the door creaks open.
"You gonna jump?"
You hear the shuffle of his shoes against the floor as he leans beside you.
You close your eyes. "Go back inside. Make someone else's night worse."
"Yours already looks terrible, I've got a headstart," Bucky says, stepping up beside you.
You don’t turn, but you can feel him watching you, his presence taking up too much space in a very spacious balcony.
"You left early," he grunts out.
"So did you," you mutter.
"Yeah," he says. "People started looking at me like they wanted to ask me to dance."
You scoff. "You just think everyone’s in love with you."
"You're not proving me wrong," he points out.
"You're the most insufferable man I know."
"Honoured."
You finally glance at him. His tie is loose and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
"Why are you out here?"
Your grip tightens on the railing. "Why are you?"
You know he sees it.
"You gonna actually answer," he says coolly, "or are we going to keep doing this?"
You exhale sharply, looking ahead. "DJ’s shit."
"It’s a live band."
"Then they should’ve hired a DJ."
His mouth twitches, but his eyes don't move off you.
"Try again."
"No," you say flatly.
He tilts his head at you, expression unreadable.
It makes you feel like your skin is on fire. Weddings are hard. Weddings with him around are even harder, for reasons you can't put words to.
A beat passed and he finally pushes himself away from the railing.
You're about to make some biting comment, when instead--
"Dance with me."
You blink. "Are you concussed?"
"Not recently."
You scoff, crossing your arms. "If this is some kind of sympathy thing-"
"Jesus," he mutters. "Yeah, I wanna pity dance with you, that's exactly what's happening here."
"Then what?"
He shrugs, "You think you're the only one who's angry?"
Your jaw tightens, teeth harsh against each other.
"We don’t have to talk," he mutters, like he's tired. Like things are hard for him too. "Just dance with me."
You stare at him, skeptical. He stares back, unbothered.
Instead, you grab his hand, passive-aggressive, like the universe owes you something for putting him in your life.
"Step on my feet, I break your kneecaps."
"For the record, I was a good fuckin' dancer."
"There is not one person left alive that can corroborate that," you scoff.
It's a joke, but you're acutely aware that maybe it's exactly why this is hard for him.
He pulls you in, a little stiff, like neither of you actually know how to do this anymore.
The music filters in from inside, something soft, but the two of you aren’t moving right to it.
He sways, slow and easy, like it makes all the sense in the world.
It pisses you off that somewhere, it starts feeling that was for you too.
"You're terrible at this," you mutter.
"So are you," he grumbles.
You scoff. "You said you were good at dancing."
"Yeah, well," he exhales, "people say a lot of shit."
You roll your eyes, but you don’t let go.
Neither does he.
The wind picks up. His palm presses a little firmer against your back. You don’t know what to do with that.
"You think you’re mad now," he mutters, "just wait ‘til I do this."
You frown, "What are you plann-"
You barely have time to react before his lips brush against your forehead.
It’s quick, warm, and a little unpracticed, like he thought about it too hard but did it anyway.
Your fingers tighten against his shirt. Not because you want to hold on. But because you don’t know what else to do with your hands when something shifts in your chest.
"Jes—"
"Shut up," he says, and it's the closest you've heard him come to pleading. "Five more minutes."
The words sit between you, heavy and unspoken.
You don’t know if he’s talking about the dance or something bigger.
Five more minutes.
Like you’re not running out of time. Like something in the world could belong to you, even if just for a little while.
You close your eyes. Breathe him in.
And five minutes stretch on longer than they usually do.
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nameless-jamie · 2 days ago
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And they were Roommates...
Masterlist
Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader
TW: cursing, suggestive scenes
9 pm. The knocking at Y/N's door was loud. Too loud. And too persistent for it to be anyone but Jamie Tartt.
She sighed, tossing her phone onto the coffee table as she made her way to the door. She was so close to ignoring it but knowing Jamie, he’d either stand out there all night or start texting her ridiculous things like I’ve been kidnapped or What if I perish in the hallway?
With an exhausted huff, Y/N pulled the door open. Personal assistant is a 24/7 job after all.
There he stood, his signature pout firmly in place, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and his hoodie damp like he’d just run through a car wash. His normally perfect hair was sticking up in odd places, and the scent of chlorine and something vaguely metallic clung to him.
She blinked. “Jesus. What happened to you?”
Jamie exhaled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Fucking pipes burst, didn’t they? Whole place’s flooded.”
She turned to watch as he plopped his duffel bag on her floor and immediately started toeing off his sneakers right in the middle of the hallway like he lived here.
���Okay… but why are you here?”
Jamie gave her a look. “Where else am I supposed to go?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Y/N crossed her arms. “Maybe a hotel? You can literally afford to stay at The Savoy.”
Jamie scoffed. “Yeah, but that ain’t as fun as annoyin’ ya in your own home.”
She stared at him, unimpressed.
“‘Sides,” he added, flashing a more genuine smile, “you’re my PA, love. Pretty sure takin’ care of me is in your contract somewhere.”
She opened her mouth, ready to argue—but technically, he wasn’t wrong. Managing Jamie Tartt’s life was literally her job. His schedule, his bookings, his diet, and sometimes even making sure he remembered to do laundry like a normal human being.
She groaned. “Fine. One night. But if you so much as breathe weird, you’re out.”
Jamie smirked. “Knew ya couldn’t resist me.”
Day One: And the chaos begins...
Her mistake was thinking Jamie would behave.
Within an hour, her flat had transformed into a disaster zone.
His boots? Dumped haphazardly by the door. His duffel bag? Exploded across the living room. And somehow—somehow—he had already managed to use every single clean glass in her kitchen.
“Jamie,” she groaned, stepping over a random sock, “I didn’t realize letting you stay here meant signing up for a full-time babysitting gig.”
Jamie, currently sprawled across her couch under her blanket, flashed her a lazy grin. “This is what ya signed up for when ya decided to work for me, love.”
“I work for you, not live with you.”
“Semantics.” He waved a hand. Then, after a beat, he smirked. “Kinda nice, though, yeah? Like a married couple an’ that.”
She shot him a glare.
He only cackled.
Day Two: The Naked Incident™
She woke up way too early the next morning.
It took her a moment to remember why her flat felt off—why there was an extra presence in her space, why she could hear the faint sounds of movement from the kitchen.
Jamie. Right.
With a groggy sigh, she stumbled out of bed and padded toward the kitchen. Her brain was not functioning yet. She just needed coffee. Nothing else mattered.
Except—
She stopped. Dead.
Jamie was standing by the counter, casually buttering a piece of toast. Shirt on top. Nothing else.
Her soul left her body.
“JAMIE.”
He looked up, completely unfazed. “Mornin’, love.”
She slapped a hand over her face. “What. The fuck.”
Jamie blinked. “What?”
She gestured wildly at all of him. “Why are you NAKED in my kitchen?!”
He snorted. “Not naked. Got me top on.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“‘Course it does,” he argued, taking a massively casual bite of toast. “Top half’s covered. Bottom half’s—y’know—free. I get hot at night an— ”
She made a strangled noise. “Jamie. Put. Some. Pants. On.”
He smirked. “Why? You peekin’?”
She almost threw a dish towel at him.
Instead, she turned on her heel and marched out of the kitchen. “This is exactly why you should be at a hotel.”
Jamie called after her, still grinning. “Oi, if we were married, ya wouldn’t be so uptight about seein’ your husband in his natural state.”
She grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his head.
Idiot.... His ass is fuckin' phenomenal, though.
Day Three: The Honeymoon
She had no idea how this happened.
One moment, they were watching a movie. The next, Jamie was close. Way too close.
He was draped across the couch, arm along the back, body turned toward her in a way that made the air feel different. His knee bumped against hers, and his stupid cologne was messing with her ability to think straight. They were freaking cuddling on the couch aka Jamie's current bed.
Then, he turned his head toward her, voice softer than usual. “This is nice.”
She swallowed, face beet-red. “Yeah. Kinda cozy.”
Jamie’s gaze flickered down to her lips, and suddenly, the air shifted.
Thick. Heavy. Loaded with something unspoken.
His eyes searched hers. Daring. Waiting.
And then—he smirked.
“Kinda romantic, yeah?” he teased. “Like it's our honeymoon. just without the sex. I mean doesn't have to be—”
The moment shattered.
She groaned, shoving him away. “Oh my God, GO TO BED.”
Jamie cackled. “Sweet dreams, missus Tartt.”
She threw a pillow at him. Again.
Day Four: Maybe, just maybe…it ain't so bad.
By the time Day Four rolled around, she had officially lost control of her own flat.
Jamie had taken over every inch of her space—his socks scattered around the floor, his duffel bag still wide open, and somehow, his ridiculous number of protein bars had migrated into her kitchen cabinets like they belonged there.
She could handle all of that. She could even handle the way he walked around half-naked and left his stupid expensive (sexy) cologne smell lingering on her couch.
But what she couldn’t handle was the way he was making it too easy.
Too easy to get used to. Too easy to imagine him sticking around.
And that thought? That was dangerous.
Because Jamie Tartt wasn’t hers.
She was his assistant. This was temporary.
Right?
So why did it feel like something was shifting?
Jamie was still a slob. A slob that cared... He can't seem to pick up his socks but does the dishes every night. He's so bad at cooking, but he makes her the best damn coffee every morning.
That night, everything came to a head.
It started with an argument.
A stupid one.
She’d been exhausted, running on fumes after a long day of sorting out his schedule, making calls, and handling things she probably should’ve let him deal with himself.
So when she got back to the flat and saw Jamie sprawled on the couch, feet kicked up like he didn’t have a single care in the world, something inside her snapped.
“Do you ever clean up after yourself?” she blurted, tossing her bag onto the table.
Jamie blinked up at her. “What?”
She gestured wildly. “This! All of this! Your boots, your socks, your ridiculous protein bars in my cabinets—Jamie, you’ve turned my flat into your personal playground.”
Jamie sat up, frowning now. “Alright, what’s this really about?”
“What do you mean?”
He tilted his head. “You ain’t mad about the boots. You’re mad about somethin’ else.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m mad that you act like this is normal. Like we—like you’re supposed to be here.”
Jamie stared at her for a long moment.
Then, his voice softened. “And what if I enjoy being here with you?”
Her stomach flipped.
She shook her head. “Jamie—”
“I really like bein’ here,” he admitted, standing now, his expression serious in a way that made her breath hitch. “I like wakin’ up in the morning and seein’ you walk out all grumpy ‘cause you ain’t had coffee yet. I like makin’ you laugh when you’re tryin’ real hard to be pissed off at me.”
She swallowed. “That’s—”
He stepped closer. “And I like sittin’ on that couch with you, watchin’ shite movies, even when you’re yellin’ at me for leavin’ crumbs everywhere.”
Her heart was pounding.
Jamie reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Gentle. Careful.
“I don't know, feels right, doesn’t it?” he murmured. “Like I belong here. With you. Near you.”
Her breath caught.
She could feel it—the moment balancing on a knife’s edge.
The air was thick with something dangerous. Something inevitable.
She could step back. Laugh it off. Pretend like this wasn’t happening.
Or—
Jamie’s fingers traced down her jaw, his eyes locked on hers.
“Tell me I’m wrong Y/N and I'll be out that door, no more socks in the floor, no more coffee in the mornin',” he whispered.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Instead, she did the only thing she could—
She closed the gap and kissed him.
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mcdonaldsnumberone · 3 days ago
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DEAR!
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when they realize they're falling for you
gender neutral reader
feat. argenti, moze, sunday, jing yuan
content warning(s): nonsexual nudity/bathing (sunday)
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✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖☁︎ ARGENTI
Argenti realizes he’s falling in love with you when he returns from a particularly grueling mission and sees you preparing dinner for him. It’s something so simple and so everyday, yet Argenti has unfortunately gotten used to depriving himself of even the small things sometimes. As a devoted Knight of Beauty, he’s grown accustomed to living in poverty and getting by with very few things in his possession. But yet you insist on fawning over him and tending to him with the attention that he doesn’t think he deserve, and even though he feels unworthy of loving you since he believes his path is meant to be taken alone, there’s still something so comforting about returning to a warm meal and your fussing rather than the empty spaceship he’s grown too used to.
“You really need to start keeping more food around,” you scold Argenti as the knight quietly takes his seat at the table. “There’s only so much I can do with bread, some cheese, and a handful of dried fruit.”
You peer over at Argenti, who offers up an apologetic smile. You wish he wasn’t so handsome and good-hearted at times. Maybe then you could be harsher about his negligence towards his health and feel less guilty about it. Knowing him, he wouldn’t even have bothered cooking and would have just eaten the bread, cheese, and fruit as they were. You sigh and shake your head before taking the pot off of the stove and placing it squarely in front of him.
“You’re lucky that I care so much about you.” You slide some more plates in his direction. One is filled with toasted baguette slices, and the other has some jam you managed to coax from rehydrating the dried fruits. “I figured I could make some fondue with the cheese and decided to make something sweet with the fruit. Go ahead, have a bite. You must be hungry from romping around all day.”
His hands tremble a little as he carefully spreads some molten cheese and sticky jam over the baguette slices, and under your scrutinizing gaze, Argenti takes a tentative bite of the meal you’ve prepared for him. Like you described, it really is nothing special, and it’s as simple of a meal as it can get. But knowing that you labored over it, putting in your time and effort so that he’d have something nice to eat, makes his heart squeeze inside of his chest as if threatening to suffocate him from the inside out. 
It tastes good. Better than anything Argenti’s ever had. The brittle crust of the baguette, the salty tang of the cheese, and the sugary flavor of the fruit jam… It’s the perfect meal to fill his stomach and his soul.
“Do you like it?” You ask him, the snark in your voice melting away to reveal your true, genuine concern.
He looks towards you, eyes softening in a way only love could. “Yes, love. It’s delicious.”
✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖☁︎ MOZE
Moze realizes he’s falling in love with you when he lets you sneak up on him to surprise him with a hug. Being an assassin means that showing his back is something unthinkable. Even in the wild, animals are evolved not to show their back or their weak spots, lest they end up killed before they can kill. And yet, whenever you’re involved, Moze wonders what about you has him willing to turn the other eye to let you creep up to him. Logically, he knows what he’s doing is dangerous. What if you were to backstab him? What if someone were to take advantage of you to get to him? But above any of those doubts is the clear fact that he trusts you. Moze trusts you. And it’s from there that he can find security in his love for you. 
The streets of the Luofu are loud and filled with sounds that Moze isn’t familiar with. And  yet, in the short time he’s been here, he’s already grown used to it enough to pick out what are everyday noises and what are noises that might indicate danger. It’s his duty to organize and process information like this as quickly as possible—even a few seconds is enough to prove to be the decisive factor between life and death. 
He supposes this second-nature part of him is why he hears you before anything else. He can hear the telltale swish of your clothes against your body and the soft inhales and exhales he’s grown to become so fond of. He has half a mind to tell you to drop the act and quit lurking around him. He knows he can pin you up against whatever wall you’re hiding behind faster than you can realize, but you’re harmless and Moze would feel bad for ruining your fun.
So he decides to play dumb for just a little bit. And you don’t let his expectations down. Only a few moments have passed before he can hear your familiar footsteps running up from behind him, and shortly after, a pair of equally familiar arms are thrown around him from behind.
“Surprise! Guess who?” Your voice reaches his ears, and despite his better judgment, Moze reaches to envelop your hands with his. He presses down against your knuckles, enraptured for a split second in the way they curve and fit against his own rough palms. 
“You know these guessing games are pointless.” His words are gruff, but you can hear that faintest hint of a smile with each syllable. “You’re the only person in the world that I’d let sneak up on me.”
“Won’t you entertain me a little? It’s more fun that way.” Normally at this point, you’d unwrap your arms from behind him so you can skip up to his side, but for whatever reason, Moze’s grip on your hands today is firm. It’s as if he doesn’t want you to let go.
What a silly, soft crow he’s become. You don’t mind indulging him, even if it means reading between the lines of what he says. And you’re sure Moze’s in agreement with you.
Being soft isn’t so bad. 
✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖☁︎ SUNDAY
Sunday realizes he’s falling in love with you when he asks you to join him for a bath. As the former Oak Family head, he had very little time for himself, and the few minutes he could spend emptying his mind within a tub of warm water was his equivalent of everyday bliss. During his imprisonment, bathing alone was a luxury that was barred from him—anything and everything he did was under watchful eyes. And on the Astral Express, Sunday almost fears what his mind will conjure up if left alone for too long. The bath has always been a place of vulnerability for the man, and yet, your gentleness makes him want to slowly let you into the deepest parts of his heart. This meek, scared side of him is still a part of who he is, and he’s willing to place his faith wholeheartedly in you.
A satisfied sigh leaves Sunday’s lips as he lets the tense muscles in his body relax for once. The bathwater is already warm as is, but being nestled in between your legs, with his back against your chest and your damp fingers carding through his hair, makes his skin tingle even more with heat. He doesn’t think anyone has ever touched him this sweetly and lovingly, and he hopes you attribute the flush on his cheeks to the steam culminating in the bathroom.
“Is the temperature of the water okay?” Your worried voice shakes him gently out of his swirling thoughts. He nods wordlessly before sinking a bit deeper into the tub. The edge of the water clings to the ends of his hair, and it laps greedily at the swell of his throat as if threatening to swallow him whole.
An ambient silence falls over the two of you, and the only sound Sunday can make out is the quiet trickle of water sloshing back and forth between your connected bodies and the exquisitely crafted sound of your breaths. Sunday tries to match your breathing cadence, and something deep in his chest stirs at the thought that doing so might match his heartbeat to yours.
“...Thank you for joining me,” he murmurs. His eyelids feel heavy, and when he leans his head back, you peer at him from above. The glow of the bathroom lights illuminates the back of your head and around your face, and he can’t help but think that the thought of a halo suits you far more than it would him. “It feels nice to have you here with me.”
“Of course.” Your lips curl upwards into the same smile that made him fall for you to begin with. “Thank you for inviting me, Sunday. You must have had a long day. Why don’t you rest here, in my arms?”
It’s his turn to smile slightly. It’s weak but enough for you to notice, and when Sunday lets his tired eyes shut, he can’t help but think that his instant must be his equivalent of true paradise. 
✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖☁︎ JING YUAN
Jing Yuan realizes he’s falling in love with you when he finds himself comfortable enough with you to complain. It’s not an easy job to be the general and manage such a big and chaotic place as the Luofu, and he’s learned very quickly that even the slightest twitch of his mouth is enough to send the delicate politics of the Xianzhou Alliance up in arms. And as much of an optimist as he is, even he has limits to how much he can bottle up and carry out in the name of peacekeeping. It’s a big leap of faith for him to confide so many secrets in you, but at the same time, you’re the only one who can truly empathize with him. Besides, when you welcome him home with a big hug and rub your hands over his sore shoulders, how can he resist the temptation of sharing every part of him with you?
“I’ve been thinking,” Jing Yuan remarks out loud, “I’m quite lucky to have fallen in love with someone like you.”
You pause momentarily, your hands ghosting over Jing Yuan’s broad shoulders. You’re no professional masseuse by any means, but there’s something so satisfying about feeling his knotted muscles come undone bit by bit under your careful touch. Besides, maybe this is your selfishness speaking, you like having the knowledge that the esteemed general of the Luofu melts like a cat into your fingertips as if he can’t get enough of your body on his. 
“What makes you say that?” You raise an eyebrow. Did he get himself in trouble? And was he cozying up to you in hopes that you’d help bail him out or something?
Instead, the white-haired man shrugs, and a couple strands of his loose moonlight-colored hair tumbles over his shoulders and hangs above his chest. “You’re always so understanding with me. You always listen to everything I say as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. I doubt anyone else could endure my complaints about how grueling administrative work can be. And what’s more, you don’t tell a living soul about it!”
“Who knows? Maybe I have spilled the Luofu's deepest darkest secrets to someone already. And I’m just that good at hiding it from you.” You grin at him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes. The general stares up at you momentarily before throwing his back and rewarding you with a genuine, hearty laugh. 
“See? This is what I mean. Nobody else would have the audacity to say something so outwardly false and yet so daring to my face!” He reaches over to grab your hand, and he guides it over to the edge of his face. Your palm molds into the curve of his jaw, and you let your thumb roll over the soft flesh of his cheek. 
Your grin morphs into something much more mild, lovestruck as he nuzzles his face into your hand, sighing happily against your knuckles and the creases in your palm. “That’s on you then, my dear Jing Yuan, for falling for someone like me.”
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giuliettagaltieri · 3 days ago
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Go for it, Charles!
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Chapter Synopsis: Making up over hot meals.
Warning: None
Word Count: 2711
Chapter: 5
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Most mornings at home back in Monaco, Charles usually wakes up to Leo licking his face with his cute little barks.  It never fails to set his mood right for the day.  But right now, he is reminded that he is in your apartment when he feels a furball cuddling to his chest, Lily’s fur tickling his face.
Charles smiles, she warmed up to him finally.
He rubs her forehead with a finger and Lily opens her eyes briefly before closing them again.  “Found a new bed to sleep in?”  Charles chuckles before yawning.  He carefully holds her and sets her beside him when he sits up.  “Where’s your mama?”
Lily ignores him and continues to stay curled up, taking her nap.  Charles checks his watch and figures you might be at work already.  He sighs at the thought of last night.
He really messed up yesterday.  If he is back home, it would be easier to make up with you.  He could just buy you a gift or take you out to a nice restaurant.  Charles leans back on the sofa, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
You were being so kind to him, how could he act in such an ungrateful way?  Meal prepping is not that bad, he was just dramatic about it yesterday.  Besides you only make it for three days and like you said, you don’t just make one dish.
“I was so rude.”  He groans, facepalming.
Charles gets up and stretches, he decides to head to your kitchen first for a glass of water.  As he gulps it down his parched throat, his eyes catch a kraft sticky note plastered on the refrigerator.  He walks over and squints his eyes at your neat handwriting.
There’s food in the fridge.  Feel free to eat anything you want.
Be back later in the evening.
Well that’s a good sign right?  You leaving notes for him?  Does that mean you’re no longer mad?
But then again you are a very nice person.  Despite being crossed with him, it seems very much like you to reassure him that he can take whatever he wants from the fridge.  Charles takes the sticky note and folds it with a smile, debating whether to throw it or keep it.  With much reluctance, he throws it but a smile is on his face as he opens the fridge.
Avocado toast perhaps?  They’re quick enough to make and he can’t mess them up.  He just had yogurt and an apple last night so he was craving calories.
Charles also helps himself to a cup of coffee.  His brows raise in silent appreciation for your taste in coffee.
After having his breakfast, Charles made sure to clean up, just eliminating anything that would piss you off.
There really wasn’t much to do now that you went away for work.  He can’t really expect you to put everything down to accommodate him.  You’re already doing so much for him.  So Charles decides to entertain himself.
He debated on watching movies on your tv but he doesn’t feel like sitting down for the entire day.  He went around your apartment, looking at every book you have in your bookshelf, having a loose grasp on your taste in literature.  He admires himself in the mirror in your dining room.  He also visited your office, arms crossed as he looked at your products.  Charles got one scrunchie and stretched it around his fingers before his attention moved on to a different item.  There’s a bunch of stickers too.  Did you make these?
Charles looked at every sticker sheet you have and even wanted some for himself but where would he stick them?  On your walls?  He chuckles at his own silly internal narratives before moving on to your packing area.  You are very organized, he notices.
Something soft rubs on his leg and he looks down to see Lily staring up at him before meowing loudly.
“Hi.”  He says with his voice slightly becoming high pitched and picks her up.  “Are you even allowed in here?”
Charles carries her outside and closes the door behind him.  “What do you want?  Snacks?”  Charles sets her down on the floor and heads to the kitchen where he last saw you get her food.  “You’re a big cat already so I don’t think it is good for you to be eating three times a day.”  But he does give her a bit of dry cat food. 
Charles sits crossed legged and watches Lily eat.  “Listen, since I gave you what you wanted, you got to help me out too.”  He runs his hand on Lily’s back.  “You need to help me with your mama.”
He’s being ridiculous, asking help from a cat and sitting on your kitchen floor like some helpless man.  Well, in some sense, he is a helpless man.
Lily was licking her paws now.
“You see, I made her very upset yesterday.  I didn't do it intentionally of course.”  Charles added the last sentence like he is afraid of being judged by a cat.  Lily does have a gaze that constantly makes you feel judged.
“And I don’t know what to do now.”  He raises both hands in the air in surrender.  “I liked being able to laugh with her.”  Lily immediately leaves after grooming herself, making Charles frown.  “Oh come on now, I was talking to you.”
He gets up with a groan and follows Lily.  Charles doesn’t say anything until she enters the cat door to the laundry room.  He didn’t notice that.  “What are you doing here?”  He sees Lily walking over to a plant you have before circling it and disappearing behind it.  “Wha-  Lily?”  Charles turns the pot, overestimating its weight, using too much strength that he fell on his butt and jostling Lily inside who meows sharply.  Oh is this her litter box?
Charles holds his laughter.  He really wishes you don’t have cameras around the house.  It’s barely even lunch time but he has made quite a few questionable actions already.
This is really clever.  He hopes he can get Leo to do the same.  The little devil used to pee everywhere.  Ah, Leo.  If there was one thing that Charles regretted about this entire situation, it was leaving Leo behind.  He’s sure that his team or his mom would take care of him but to be abandoned by his dad like that.  Charles shakes his head, not wanting to dwell in things he cannot control right now.
To pass time, Charles decided on exercising in your living room.  He plans to stay in shape despite this total change of routine.  Lily was very interested in what he’s doing though, he had to pry her off him to finish his sit ups multiple times.
When it’s finally night time, Charles was feeling a bit unnerved.  You’ll be back soon.  You just said evening in your note, you didn’t specify what time.  Why didn’t you specify what time?  At least he could have prepared better!
He’s sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his thighs with his foot tapping nonstop for a while now.  He looks up when he hears cars passing by but goes back to staring at your floor after not recognizing the engine sound.
Give or take half an hour later, which felt longer for him than it actually was, he hears the familiar sound of your car and at the last minute he stands up and heads to your kitchen, deciding that it’s a good time to have a glass of water.  That way it won’t look like he’s waiting for you, right?
He watches the glass slowly get filled up as he hears the front door open.  Charles sips slowly as he hears your footsteps and when he looks up, there you are, in your scrub suit, carrying a rather large bag, looking all tired and sleepy.
“Hi.”  You say.
Charles wipes his mouth and sets the glass down on the counter, he didn’t miss how your eyes flit to the glass.  “Hi.  How was work?”  He asks, trying to sound excited.  He’s glad you started the conversation, making it easier for him to communicate.
“Shit.  Some kid dislocated an arm after falling off the monkey bars in the playpark.  It looked super gnarly.”  You say as you disappear off to your bedroom.  He quickly washes the glass as you continue talking.  “This guy who had kidney stones just can’t decide whether to be treated or not and the stone went and traveled up his penis.”
Charles grimaces as he stands outside your room now, watching you organize your bag before disappearing to your walk in closet.
“And that’s only the minor surgeries.  We had not one but two thyroidectomies today.”  You start rambling as you pass him and head to the bathroom.  “Ugh people should learn to eat seafood in moderation.”  And you shut the door in his face.
Well…that was a good start…right?
He walks around your living room in slow circles, his arms crossed.  Lily was looking at him boredly.  When the bathroom door opens, you’re in more comfortable clothing, looking refreshed from your day at work.
Charles watches you dump your scrubs in the hamper in the laundry room and you stay still for the first time since you came home. 
“What do you want to have for dinner?”
You aren’t even being rude, simply just…asking.
“There is no need.”  Charles says quickly, starting to feel bad again.  “I mean, you’re already tired.”
“Well I need dinner too so I have to cook.”  You smile at him and his lips press to a line.
“I’ll help you.”  He offers and you nod.
You head back to your room to grab your lunchbox and tumbler.  “If you still feel bad about yesterday, don’t worry about it, I was just PMSing.”
“What is that?”  He asks, genuinely clueless.  “I can wash those.”  Charles gestures to your lunchbox.
“Thanks.”  You say as you place your stuff near the sink and he immediately starts washing them.  “It’s mood and hormonal changes before starting my period.”
So that was like a free trial?  He sucks in a breath through grimaced teeth, not even wanting to think about how you’d be with your period in. 
“I’m making pasta.”  You hum as you start pulling ingredients from the fridge.  You pull out a rather huge saucepan and Charle’s eyes widen a fraction.  “I’ll make enough for four servings if you’re okay with refrigerated food now.”  He knows you’re just teasing but he tongues his cheek.
“Yeah, yeah.  No problem.”  He answers quickly, not wanting to bite at your playful provocation.  Besides, he is busy looking at the ingredients placed on the table.  There’s too much of it?  He doesn’t think some of them would go well with pasta.  A loud sizzle makes him look up to see you cooking ground beef.  “What’s with all of the other ingredients?”
You smile at him as you fetch a colander to wash the ingredients left on the table.  “I will be showing you the beauty of meal prepping.”  You pull out two chopping boards from your cupboard and fetch two knives with a single hand.  How women could manage to hold so much in their hands, he would never understand.
“You slice the potatoes in half so they’d cook faster.  While I cut up the other veggies and season the chicken.”  You say as you bend to check something in the oven.  He would be lying if he'd say his eyes didn’t wander.
It was a bit overwhelming at first what you’re doing, with so much stuff going on but you don’t look bothered at all.  Just as you started focusing on the pasta, he finished with the potatoes, you were quicker than him of course, already managed to add spices on chicken breasts and lay them out perfectly on a baking sheet along with the perfectly cut vegetables.
The entire apartment smelled divine by the time you put in the chicken and vegetables in the oven.  He stands right next to you, watching you stir the pasta shells in the sauce, the garlic and cheese making his mouth water.
Yup that looks like something he’d like to have again tomorrow.
“Can you fill those two glass containers with pasta?”  You look up to him with your big pleading eyes and he stares longer than he should before nodding dumbly.  “I need to make overnight oats.  Do you want some?”
“Yeah.”  Charles nods while doing as you asked.  By the time you’re both done, there’s only the roasted chicken and potatoes.
“Let’s eat?”  You say excitedly as you put the pasta on two plates, your serving very generous.  Charles initiates grabbing forks for the both of you.  You let him have the first bite and smile really proudly when he closes his eyes and groans.
He spews a lot of words in French and you laugh lightly.
“Is it good?”
“Is it good?  Yes, it’s good!”  He scoops another forkful to his mouth.  Exhaling an airy parseltongue when the sauce inside the pasta shells burns his tongue.
“Careful now.”  You say while pushing the glass of water to him but he shakes his head and continues eating.  “I’m glad you like it.”
It’s probably because it’s been a while since he had a real meal but you do enjoy his reaction to your cooking.  You eat your own serving.  Getting up halfway to put the roasted chicken and potatoes along with other vegetables in four glass containers.
“Pick out whatever you want for lunch and dinner tomorrow.”  You tell him as you get back to the table with a bottle of white wine along with a pair of long stemmed glasses.
“Yes of course, thank you.”  Charles nods gratefully, chewing quietly and just stares at you having your pasta.  Your eyes are a bit droopy already.  “I’m so sorry I had to make you cook on a work day.”
You open the bottle and you pour him and yourself a glass of wine.  “It’s okay, really.  I had fun, besides, I got to sit most of the time because you helped.”  He was feeling really proud of that.  You offer him his glass and you both raise your glasses before taking a sip.
“I can help more.”  He tells you.  “I can do the dishes.”
“Oh you’re Godsent, Charles.”  You tell him.  You’re not about to pass up this opportunity.  You hate doing the dishes.  “I’ll be packing orders in the meantime.”  You do help in stacking the dishes and pots in a way that is convenient for him to wash though.  You gave him a few instructions where to store the dishes after he dries them.  “You should probably wear this plastic apron.”
Charles accepts it with a confused look on his face.  “Why?”
“You’ll see why.”
You leave him after that to hole up in your office to pack a few orders.  After sealing the current order you are working with, you stretch in your seat.  A knock in the doorway startles you and you see Charles looking at you with a kind smile, with only minimal wet patches on his sweatpants.
“Shouldn’t it be your bedtime?  You have to wake up early tomorrow.”
You yawn immediately as he mentions it.  “You’re right.  I’ll just finish up tomorrow…or on Thursday.”
He walks with you to your room.  “Your customers are fine with that, right?”  He just had to ask, he knows that people are not very patient when it comes to online shopping.
“I have a disclaimer in my website that all my products are shipped in three to five days.”  You tell him as you reach your bedroom.  You stand there, just facing each other.  For a moment you just rock on your feet as your hands twist the doorknob awkwardly.  “Well, goodnight.  Thanks for helping me in the kitchen.”
“No problem.”  He nods at you.  Finding your antics endearing.  “Good night.”
You smile at him one last time before closing the door.  As the door clicks into place, Charles pumps his fist in the air.
This night ended way better than he hoped and he couldn’t be more glad.   
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Overdrive
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freakycore · 3 days ago
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🎧 now playing: rockstar reverie pt.2
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rockstar!gojo satoru x fem!reader ₊˚ෆ
following their explosive performance, unresolved friction behind the scenes hints at deeper complications within the band.
part one
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a week after their explosive performance, the band reconvened at geto‘s apartment— their unofficial practice space. the scent of takeout and faint traces of incense lingered in the air, mixing with the him of a distant baseline. gojo arrived late, as usual, sunglasses perched on his nose even though the sun had long set. he was expecting the usual: geto brewing tea, shoko lounging with a cigarette, and the faint chaos of instruments strewn across the room.
what he wasn’t expecting was you.
you sat cross legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone as if you’d always belonged there. you were out of the stage lights now, dressed casually in leggings and an oversized ba d tee, but the same magnetic energy lingered around you. gojo froze in the doorway, his usual swagger faltering.
“hey, you’re late,” geto called from the kitchen, a smirk tugging at his lips. “not like we were waiting on you or anything.”
“what’s she doing here?” gojo blurted, ignoring the jab. his tone came out sharper than he intended, earning a glance from you.
you raised an eyebrow. “good to see you too, rockstar.”
geto strolled over, mug in hand. “she’s here because she’s got a spot on the team now. figured we make it official.”
gojo whipped off his sunglasses, glaring at his friend. “official? are you serious?”
“why not?” geto shrugged, leaning against the counter. “she killed it last night, didn’t she?”
“yeah, but—“ gojo gestured vaguely, searching for a valid objection. his mind flashed back to the way the crowd erupted, the way your voice filled the venue, the way you’d poured water over yourself mid-performance, and…
"you're blushing," shoko said from her usual spot by the window, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. she didnt even bother looking up.
"i’m not blushing,” gojo snapped, running a hand through his hair. “i’m just… surprised. we don’t even know her.”
“speak for yourself,” geto said. “i’ve known her for years. she’s good people.”
you stood, crossing the room to grab a water bottle from the cluttered counter. “relax, rockstar. i’m not here to mess up your precious band. i’m here to make it better.”
your confidence was infuriating— and distracting. gojo crossed his arms, forcing himself to look unimpressed. “we’ll see about that.”
“oh, you will,” you shot back, smirk mirroring his own.
shoko exhaled a cloud of smoke, cutting through the tension. “if you two are down flirting, maybe we can actually rehearse?”
gojo’s jaw dropped. “flirting? i…i…”
geto laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “welcome to the team, rookie. looks like you’ve already got satoru on his toes.”
you grinned, raising your water bottle in a mock toast. “here’s to keeping it that way.”
gojo huffed, grabbing his guitar and muttering under his breath. but as the first notes of their set filled the room, he couldn’t help but steal a glace at you.
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rehearsal kicked off in the usual chaos, with geto and shoko barely bothering to tune their instruments before launching into a rhythm. you were quick to fall into step, voice slipping into the melody like it had always been part of the band. gojo, however, couldn’t focus. his fingers fumbled over the strings, and his timing was slightly off—a rare occurrence for him.
“yo, satoru, you good?” geto asked after a particularly botched riff.
“i’m fine,” gojo snapped, though his eyes flickered towards you. you was standing by the mic, eyebrows raised, clearly amused.
“doesn’t look fine,” shoko murmured, plucking out a lazy bassline as if she hadn’t noticed the mounting tension.
you leaned into the mic, your tone teasing. “maybe he’s just nervous. y’know, performing with a rookie and all.”
gojo’s grip on his guitar tightened. “nervous? please. i don’t get nervous.”
“could’ve fooled me,” you quipped, smirking.
geto chuckled, cutting in before gojo could retort. “alright, let’s take five. don’t need you two tearing each other apart before our next gig.”
as the others drifted off—shoko to light another cigarette, geto to check his phone—gojo found himself alone with you. fiddling with the mic stand, your casual confidence still grating on him.
“you really think you can just waltz in here and keep up with us?” he asked, stepping closer. his tone was sharper than he intended, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
you looked up, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I don’t think. I know.”
your certainty was maddening. gojo ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated laugh. “you’ve got guts, i’ll give you that.”
“thanks, rockstar,” you said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “but maybe save the compliments for after i’ve proven you wrong again.”
“again?”
you shrugged, smirk widening. “last week wasn’t enough proof?”
he opened his mouth to respond, but geto’s voice cut through the tension. “alright, lovebirds, break’s over. let’s get back to it.”
heat rose to gino’s cheeks as he turned away, pretending to check his guitar. but as they launched into the next set, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was already in his head—and wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
aki aftertalk: just a little blurt that’s been in my mind, i’m actually thinking of turning this into a short series :3 i’m loving this au and wanna write more and not at the same time lol
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kiwioala · 1 year ago
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honestly one of my favorite things to come out of qsmp 2.0 so far is definitely leo and sunny's newfound friendship
prior to this, leo didn't really have a lot of fellow egg friends. sure, she hung out with them a bit but she didn't have a "best friend" and definitely wasn't as close to the others. late night trio (dapper, pomme, and richas) all had one another, dapper and ramon were always close, same goes for tallulah and chayanne, and for a while richas and bobby were close too, but leo was kind of the odd one out for a while.
foolish even pointed this out when the new eggs were introduced, telling leo that perhaps she could finally befriend one of them despite her initially being wary of them.
and she did!! she may have had a little beef with them in the beginning but her and pepito became a lot closer once foolish began taking care of him in roier's (and pepito's other parents) absence, even giving pepito one of her special walter heads <3
now, she's doing the same with sunny as well!! as the two now live together, they've definitely grown a lot closer. there may have been some hesitance in the beginning but it didn't last for very long as now they're often seen hanging out even w/o their parents around. hell, i think sunny even mentioned the two of them opening a tostada stand together on the first or second day ?? both tubbo and foolish have pointed this out too; how their beef seems to be squashed now, or at least most of it, especially after noticing them hanging out around the wheat fields and making toast together rather frequently.
in conclusion, i'm very excited to see where this friendship of theirs goes! whether or not they become bestfriends or just close, i'm anxious to see what will happen <3
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hon3y-y · 9 months ago
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NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤
cw: noncon filming!
pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3 pt4: here<3
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omfg he would be soooo pissed💀
picture this;
The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 
Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 
He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.
“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”
“Why are you still here?”
Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 
Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 
At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 
You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.
You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).
You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 
He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 
Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.
You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 
Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 
One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?
He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 
Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.
You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.
he’s sooo down bad://
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arcanefeelings · 1 month ago
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thinking about sitting on the kitchen counter with bedhead and dressed in a too-big t-shirt, legs swinging as you talk kento's ear off. your voice is soft, a little raspy from the slumber he'd lifted you out of to shuffle around the kitchen in his red flannel pajamas - no shirt, because you're wearing that as usual - making french toast because he can.
as the pan sizzles in the background, he glances over his shoulder at you, eyes half closed but cheeks rosy and lifted into a smile as you tell him about a dog you saw yesterday during your lunch break. its 10 am on a Sunday morning. you could've just called for something or stayed asleep a little longer. but he's here with you, drizzling little french toast sticks with honey and feeding you with sticky fingers because he loves you.
and when your face lights up like that? eyes crinkling into that goddamn smile? he thinks you couldn't look more gorgeous, bedhead and all.
he knows he'd be a fool not to love you.
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hello-sweetheart · 3 months ago
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Neat Freak
Steve’s parents don’t make him keep the house spotless. He really is just that clean and when Nancy tries to tell people there like “lol, sure” but she knows.
He’s a neat freak.
When she would stay over she would change into her pjs and make a small bundle of her day clothes on his desk chair, and steve would just. Fold them. Before getting in bed with her.
Doesn’t take long after for the others to realize it.
Robin thought it was just a guy thing, caring that much about their car. Scolding her for kicking her socked feet up on the dash, and leaving crumbs of toast when she had breakfast to go.
But then she visits his house the first time and Robin has never been good at using a coaster, too scatter brained to pay attention where she sets her drink down each time.
Steve, though? Without missing a beat he will move her glass to the coaster. Every time. Doesn’t even break his strike or pauses his conversation it’s just muscle memory by now.
The kids have had their will broken and no longer put up a fight.
Without being told to anymore, they toe off their shoes and hang their coat by the doorway. They don’t even do that in their own home. How Steve was able to get those wild animals house broken? No body knows.
His mom didn’t actually choose his room decor. It looks a bit barren but Steve likes it that way. It looks clean, easier to do so, too. Everything has its place tucked away from sight so it’s not an eye sore.
Even his plaid wallpaper and curtains he chose for himself. He spent all day finding the curtains that matched the closest and he was really proud of himself when found some.
“Steve, buddy, this looks mental.”
“But look,” (closest the curtains to show that even the pattern lines up seemlessly) “you almost can’t even see the difference between the wall and fabric. It’s like magic! It’s cool!” >:(
He’s very meticulous about his appearance. Dustin is absolutely flabbergasted when he sees his full hair routine for himself. Everything must be done a certain way in a certain order every time. It’s routine.
“Three puffs of the Farah Fawcett! THREE!”
“I DID THREE.”
“YEAH, BUT YOU DID THEM WRONG.”
When they discontinue it, Steve has a mini breakdown. He doesn’t like that his very specific and set routine has been broken. He’s convinced he’ll never find a hair spray to replace it. Everybody stocks up on cans of it to try and lower his anxiety.
He just loves cleaning, okay?
Ironing his kakis and polos until there are no wrinkles is so satisfying. Glass without finger smudges is so nice. His closet being organized by color is so efficient. When he’s worried, anxious, or angry he likes to keep his hands busy and it just calms him down going ham on a water stain in the bathroom.
When he hangs out at Eddie’s, he mindlessly starts picking things up here and there. It’s like heaven for him. He sees a mess and just wants to go to town. Eddie doesn’t mind as long as he knows where everything is in the end. He’ll admit that having his music organized alphabetically is pretty convenient.
It’s also a little funny to watch Steve iron his ripped jeans and battle jacket with an iron he brought from home.
“You’re a freak, Harrington.” Eddie has a shit eating grin. Steve flips him off.
“Fuck off.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months ago
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candied pecans
in which uni!reader has to wake up early for a final, and spencer reid is determined to let you get as much rest as possible
fluff (18+ for mildly suggestive remarks) wc <800 warnings/tags: Spencer being a sweetheart, basically sex jokes, he makes you breakfast, gnreader a/n: I MISSED THEM BADDDD!!! this is v v short and based on a dream I had where he brought me breakfast so I could sleep in and I asked him to stay in bed while I was gone LOL
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Your alarm goes off and your brow furrows like even in sleep, you’d been bracing for it. Every dream had been sterile—and worse—or potentially better—you’d dreamed about your study material.
Quickly as it started, the robotic blaring ceases. You almost slip back into sleep, but fight tooth and nail for consciousness, propping up on an elbow and rubbing your eyes in the dark grey of the early morning. Already there’s a warm hand on your chest, exerting what is more a suggestion of pressure rather than any actual force. Spencer’s voice is grainy. 
“Hey. Go back to sleep.”
“I have a final,” you slur. 
“In two hours. You can get at least another half hour of sleep.”
“But then I can’t—”
“I know, you can’t use that time to scroll on your phone. I’m terrible for even suggesting it. You were up late, honey. Come back and sleep longer and you’ll do better on your final.”
You’re already falling down. The bed is so warm, and your lids are so heavy. 
“Okay,” you mumble, eyes shut before you even hit the pillow. 
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You wake up to fingers in your hair. He’s always so unbelievably gentle with you. Just as effective as an alarm clock—far more pleasant. 
“Good morning,” he says, and there’s no sleep in his voice like there was the last time you woke up. You curl into him where he sits on the side of the mattress and he cups your cheek with a warm hand. 
“Time?”
“Don’t get mad at me.”
That really wakes you up.  
“What did you do?”
“I let you sleep for a half hour!” he defends. Your brow furrows and you rub an eye, squinting up at him. That sheepish look on his face is concerning. “… Twice.”
“It’s seven?” You half yell, rocketing upward. He laughs and catches you against his chest. In your half-awake state, you can’t defend yourself, so you end up with your head cradled to his chest. But you’re not as happy about it as you’d normally be. 
“All I did was cut into your phone time, which we came to a consensus on, and your breakfast time. So I made you breakfast.”
You turn your head so you can look up at him from against his chest. 
“… Oh. You did?”
“Yes,” he says simply, picking up the plate you’d missed on the bedside table and presenting it to you. 
Two pieces of toast, each with butter and a different kind of jam because he knows you can never pick. Apple slices. Eggs, exactly the way you like them. Candied pecans, which are supposed to be for salads, and which you sneak handfuls of anyway. 
“Oh,” you murmur again. 
“There’s green tea in the mug, too. Caffeinated, obviously.”
You sit up straighter and take the plate into your lap over the blanket, nibbling on a slice of toast before kissing him. 
“Thank you,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder and studying the frosty day beyond the window, deciding how to dress for the weather as you chew. 
He slips his hand under your shirt to rub circles on your back. 
“Of course. I was actually excited to make you breakfast. How often is it that you’re running out the door and I don’t have anywhere to be?”
“How often is it that you get so badly injured Hotch makes you stay home?”
Too often, is the punchline. 
“He’s being anal,” Spencer scoffs, mood suddenly a wink soured. “A sprained ankle is hardly an injury.”
“Mm,” you hum around another bite of toast. “I’d say a fractured bone is pretty injurious.”
“He’s on your payroll, and you want me home. It’s a plot.”
“That’s ridiculous. I don’t pay him. He’s just scared of me.”
“It is pretty suspicious I got the week off just as we’re heading into your winter break.”
“Mhm. I’m gonna keep you here,” you say earnestly, snapping off half an apple slice with your teeth and offering the rest to him. “And make you watch movies and have sex all week.”
He crunches on the fruit and laughs. 
“Ambitious. I’m pretty sure it’s more likely that we watch movies and sleep all week.”
You look up at him with big eyes. 
“That’s still fun.”
“Oh, that’s exactly my idea of fun,” he says, and while those who don’t know Spencer quite as well as you do would perhaps mistake it for sarcasm, you know better. You settle back on his shoulder. 
“I think you should stay in bed, ’cause I’ll be home by 10:00. And then I’ll get here and you’ll already be all warm and cozy so we can cuddle all day.”
“Or we could have sex,” he says hopefully. 
You throw a pecan at him. 
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chuluoyi · 11 months ago
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 07:55 A.M 」
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a little drabble based on this outrageous ask :)) and half-inspired by some lines from the broken ring: this marriage will fail anyway—that's my new roman empire everyone ehe🥹 and who can resist domestic husband!gojo?😋
a part of gojo's love entries
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“you’re cheating on me.”
morning breakfast. satoru stopped chewing his toast at your wild accusation, his baby blue eyes blinking rapidly as he processed your words before turning to you and bursting out—
“huh?!”
“last night,” you charged, eyes narrowing in distaste. “i can’t believe you.”
“whaaa?” he tensed up, racking his brain for any indicators that he might have wronged you in any way, until he came across an irrefutable truth—
“wait no, last night, you almost made me lose it in my pants!” even satoru’s face reddened slightly while recounting your nightly tales. “before i busted it inside you. how is it possible that i’m committing adultery?!”
you huffed, looking away from him righteously. “in my last night’s dream, you did.”
. . .
“eh...” satoru blinked again, fully absorbing your words, before stupidly smiling. “what? you dream about me?”
you scowled, picking at your omelette. “yes. about you running away with five bimbos, banging them in a cottage in the middle of the woods, and leaving me here waiting for you like an idiot.”
he burst into uproarious laughter, so loud and crisp it made him wheeze. “what? seriously? you— ahahahaha!”
you threw him an unamused look, mildly irked.
“hey, wifey,” satoru nudged you, his grin stretching wide in sheer delight. “no one else can make my body react the way it does around you, you know~”
“…”
“this here,” your husband then shamelessly gestured towards his crotch. “—is broken already. my happy friend here can’t get up anymore if it’s not you.”
“…”
“i mean it! you’re the only one who can give me an erection!”
you whipped your head around him, scandalized. “ew! satoru, you—!”
“well, that’s the fact! nothing too embarrassing— we’re married!” he shrugged as you bulged a vein. “besides, shouldn’t you be proud? you've truly got me wrapped around your pinky~”
seeing how you were cutely pouting throughout breakfast, still all giggly, satoru led you back to bedroom to cuddle you.
“there, there, sweets... happy now?” satoru pulled you closer and pat your back, his body still slightly shaking with suppressed laughter.
“hmph.” you put your hands around his torso with pursed lips, squeezing him in return.
“look at this, it’s only when she’s spooked that the wife shows me any affection,” satoru exclaimed with a dramatic sigh. “so, what else did the dream version of me do to you, huh?”
“you bend each bimbo on every surface, lied to me that you’re on a long mission,” you huffed, grimacing as you recalled your dream vision. “you’re the worst.”
satoru still had that dopey grin on this face, and right this second, he thought you were the absolute cutest, because how could you think that he is capable of looking at anyone else the way he looks at you?
you have his heart, body and soul already. hasn't he told you that?
“is that so, poor you,” he retorted with mock sympathy. “but since you’re so worried...”
and suddenly, he rose from the bed with his arm around your back and another under your knees, cradling you in a princess carry. and with the smuggest smirk he whispered—
“...well, i have to make it up somehow. how about i bend you on your vanity desk now, hmm?”
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hoshifighting · 3 months ago
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the ''ick's'' seventeen would give
seungcheol: would act tough in front of his friends, and with you would be talking like; pweaseee/otay/i wuv u so much 🥺 like—shutthefuckup
jeonghan: stole your lip gloss. yep, dead serious. you look over, and he’s pulling out your cherry gloss, pouting at himself in his phone camera to check it. then he has the audacity to judge you if it’s not his color. like, “babe, don’t you think this is a bit bright?”
joshua: man has this cringe little habit of saying “no cap” at the worst times, and he’s always wrong. burnt his toast? “no cap, that was the toaster’s fault.” got pulled over? “no cap, that cop’s jealous of my car.” you’re in a horror movie, and this dude would whisper, “no cap, i think we should split up.”
junhui: starts telling a hilarious story about his day but accidentally mixes it up with a story he already told you last week. he’s all “wait, have i told you this before?”
hoshi: eats with so much sound. slurping, groaning, making it a whole event. like, eating ramen? nah, he’s performing ramen, making eye contact, giving each bite a sound effect. and it’s so bad you’re rethinking why you even suggested dinner. you can hear every noodle hitting his mouth. done.
woozi: texts you “wyd” every fifteen minutes. like you’re just supposed to be sitting around waiting for his updates on what you’re doing, right? he’s the kind of guy who’ll FaceTime you just to check if you’re having too much fun without him. and the way he says “wyd?” – every. time.
wonwoo: he’s got a pet name for his gaming console. this boy will sit there, caressing his controller and calling it “baby” while yelling at his avatar. it’s all fun and games until he actually ignores you mid-sentence to mutter sweet nothings to his PS5.
minghao: changes his accent mid-sentence to be "fancy." like, you’re talking normal, but suddenly he’s doing his best British impression for no damn reason. “oh, quite right, love, terribly splendid.” and it’s out of nowhere, totally unprompted, with a smirk like he just did something magical. you’re cringing so hard you’re practically folding into yourself.
mingyu: he’ll be all smooth one minute, but then he gets real comfortable and lets out the loudest, most unholy fart you’ve ever heard, like it was a fart held since WW2.
seokmin: pulls out a super old toy he’s kept since childhood and starts playing with it, getting all emotional about “the good ol’ days.” like, bro, you’re a grown-ass man, and you’re here with a plastic dinosaur, talking about how it “used to roar.”
seungkwan: catches a whiff of something weird in the room and just straight-up sniffs his armpits. he does it casually, like it’s no big deal, then he looks at you dead seriously.
vernon: goes way too hard on his “cool guy” vibes. constantly pulling his hat down low, trying to act all mysterious, but he’s accidentally walked into the wrong bathroom twice just trying to “look chill” or, walking in the room with his backpack wide open (we have proofs). he does this squinting thing like he’s in a music video, but it’s just… nope.
chan: calls himself “alpha.” no, seriously, he’ll be like, “as the alpha, i need to handle this.” and he’s referring to something like taking out the trash. leaving you jaw dropped, wondering why he’s talking like a lost wolf.
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seat-safety-switch · 10 months ago
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I don't know if you've ever been to Paris before, but I recommend going. Normally, I would not have gone, but I made a really rich enemy on IRC and he spent a lot of money to have me kidnapped and brought to his home country. While I was there, I got to try a bunch of restaurants (they're hostage-takers, not barbarians) and came away impressed. Something was missing, though, and herein is my genius idea.
In Paris you can get any kind of food. Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Thai: and it's all good. All of it. You literally can't find a bad restaurant. At one point, I walked into a convenience store and got a plate of one-Euro nachos that made me cry at the beauty of the arrangement.
Everyone around me was taking this for granted. Having lived there for years, their quality threshold had crept invisibly upwards until nothing could impress again. They needed something to re-calibrate their sense of truly bad food. That's where I came in. After I got kicked out of the country, I decided to come back with some investor support. I can burn cereal, usually by roasting it gently with a blowtorch on the top of an old gas can. Investors were easy to find.
Our first week of opening was tremendous. Hardened Parisians were discovering their first taste of truly incompetent food. The novelty of it all had captured them. There's just one problem, though: after making an entire lunch rush's feast of poorly-cut toast in reheated canned soup, my cooking skills began to improve from sheer experience. The complaints began to change tone. You got too good, they cried, you're not the same bad chef we once loved. Again, I was deported.
I looked out the window of the plane as it left De Gaulle, staring down onto the beautiful streets of Paris. Down there, I imagined, real gourmets were now eating food out of trash cans out of desperation to recapture what they had experienced with me. If there is one nice thing to be said, I now have two Michelin Stars here in my homeland of Canada, where my consommé-and-grilled-cheese recipe is now so much better than most of our restaurants that it made the Prime Minister Herself come and spit in my face for ruining the economy, before awarding me an Order of Canada. It's not the same.
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teletubbyinlipstick · 5 months ago
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More Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader pleaaasseeeee? 🥹
(ps, love your writing!)
OwlHybrid!Poly TF141 X Reader
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you for reading. You're all so sweet for the support! I'm negl. I didn't expect people to read it, haha. I'm so shocked by the love.
Thankyou @bina-passion-fruit for the morning after idea! See her reblog of the first part for the gist. And please feel free to send in scenarios you could see these birbs end up in!
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The next day IS tense. The atmosphere has never been this suffocating.
Not in their own home.
Gaz sits curled up in Johnny's frame at the breakfast nook, head resting on the older mans shoulder, a deep frown setting into his face. His eyes are crusted a little, nose still deep red and cheeks puffy. He looks thoroughly exhausted, like he hasn't slept.
They all do.
Johnny has a cuppa sitting untouched. It's luke warm by now, but he can't bring himself to drink it. Face mirroring Gaz's, glaring down at the coffee like it has personally offended him. Every couple minutes, he huffs deeply, eyes darting away from the cup to glance around as if in thought, but he inevitably ends up gazing lost into his cup again.
Price and Simon are at the stove and counter. Quietly discussing things that need to be done for the day. There's lulls of silence in their convos, moments where their minds wander to the dove sleeping down the hall. Price feels guilt eating him alive. He's hunched a bit, chin tucked down in a clear sign of forlorn. Simon continues to run a hand up his spine soothingly, pressing closer to offer as much comfort as he can. But he can't deny the stabs of agony he, himself, feels.
It's raw. It sucks.
And Simon feels so fucking lost in this moment. He wants to gather all his mates in his arms (even you) and shush, coo, and coddle until there's nothing but purrs, chirps, and preened content lovers piled into a nest. He wants to scent you and rub you in their things to let you know you're safe and cared for now. He sees the trauma, the fear when Johnny reached for you. The self soothing you do by rubbing your arms.
He sees you. And in doing so, he sees himself. A scared fledgling unsure of the world, burned and bitten, spat upon by those who swore to love them.
Someone hurt you.
Tore at your feathers until you were too scared to take flight. And if Ghost ever gets a name he'd tear the motherfuckers wings from their spine.
The pitter patter of footsteps approaching the kitchen lifted them from their haze, four pairs of eyes snapping to you as you sleepily shuffled in. You wore a simple oversized t shirt and sweatpants to bed, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes and cheeks red and puffy from sleep. They can see the tear streaks dried from last night and it breaks their heart all over again.
Price makes the first move, taking a small step towards you with a plate held out. Buttered toast, sizzling eggs, and red srawberries sit on top.
"G'mornin' sweetheart, hope you slept well. 'Ve cooked some breakfast. There's coffee in the pot. Help yourself." Soft eyes gaze down at you. He's hunched inwards a little, head tilted down and the sweetest smile gracing his face. You feel very flustered, keenly aware of the 3 other sets of eyes intently watching.
Taking a deep breath, you offer a half smile, grasping the plate with slightly shaky hands.
"Uhm..t-thankyou, sir"
"John."
Wide doe eyes peer up at him, shock clear on your face. He feels his lips quirk at the sight.
"My mates call me John. Not sir. We're equal here, okay? You call me by my name." When his hand reaches out, you don't swat it away this time, only watching in marvel as he tucks hair behind your ears, crows feet aligning his kind eyes.
Taking a shaky breath, a soft, geniune smile spreads across your face, eyes darting to your feet and back up as you turn to the table. Johnny and Gaz are staring right at you, wings perked up. Gaz is quickest to his feet, pulling out a chair, a handsome grin settling on face. Pretty boy, you muse to yourself. Sitting down with a grateful smile and a hushed thankyou.
A hand reaches past your shoulder, jarring and unexpected. You whip your head up to see Simon offering a placate smile down at you, other palm face up to soothe. You tilt your head owlishly, blinking at him. It causes the older mans lips to quirk up on one side, brown eyes softening as he gazes down at you. He nods his head towards the table, and upon looking back to your plate, you realize he sat down a fork...oh.
Tears welled in your eyes, and a sniffle broke through. Simon's eyes widened a fraction, quickly backing away with both his hands raised, palm up.
"'M sorry luvie, didn't mean t'startle you."
It was sincere, filled with guilt. A small sob breaks past your lips. Johnny whines high in his throat, reaching out for your hand across the table, only to stop short, unsure if you'd appreciate the contact. His lips are once again pulled down, eyes saddened.
"Bonnie?..." Murmured so quietly into the air, the boys hold their breath, pulling their wings in to appear smaller. You wipe at your face again, sniffling, eyes glossy and cheeks rosy. And when you finally lifted your head, the last thing they expected was to see the brightest grin painted across your face, pure happiness shining, tear streaks lined with joy.
"No one's ever been so kind to me...thankyou. All of you."
Oh, dove, you haven't seen anything yet.
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lauraneedstochill · 6 months ago
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if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—
scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.
gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:
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now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.
📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.
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he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.
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📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.
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📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.
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📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.
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when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.
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📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.
📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.
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📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.
📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.
📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:
it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.
I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:
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I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:
Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.
would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.
+ other things worth talking about:
📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.
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📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.
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📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.
there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.
+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.
P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿
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