#so she had *angst* with that whole thing

[willowrunes]

This thing (Images range between the years 1999 and 2005)

whats the oldest oc you recall making

c'mon tell me

[flicklikesstuff]

“Maybe the flash was to blame. Or maybe it’s his shrunken state that gave the looming witch the illusion of being exactly 10 feet tall.

Whatever it was, it had flicked something within. Suddenly, he was no longer a lizard. Nor a great, powerful wizard. Not even “Rick Shades.”

He was a little Gourami.

Only 12 years old. Eyes wide and unobscured. Skin smooth from the lack of scars. But most of all, untainted by the horrors.

And unlike that little Gourami, he was entirely aware of what’s coming for them. He could warn the 12 year old. Maybe save them even. Tell her that continuing this approach is a bad, BAD, VERY TERRIBLY BAD IDEA!!

…

But he couldn’t.”

My inspiration pieces: :)

[doyelikehaggis]

25 Days of Sleighpairs: Paige Krasikeva x Violet (Teen Wolf) + “Chocolate”

Requested by @mariedemedicis

"I have a surprise for you."

Paige lit up as soon as she laid eyes on Violet, slipping into the empty music room and closing the door behind her. She kept her hand behind her back for dramatic effect.

"I like the sound of that."

Putting her cello aside, Paige raised her eyebrows and waited - impatiently - as Violet dropped into the seat beside her, their knees touching. Finally, she produced the gift, wrapped up in brown paper with a deep purple satin ribbon tied around it. Paige's favourite colour, of course.

"You know Christmas isn't for another week, right?" she teased, but she eagerly took the present.

"It's nothing big," Violet said quickly, watching her delicately untie the ribbon, making sure to keep it intact. The paper was a different story.

As soon as she got into them, Paige lit up like the Christmas tree that she always complained her family put up too early. Violet liked it; it was definitely better than her foster parents' attempts to "make her feel included" in their traditions. She forced the smile to stay on her face, but as soon as Paige started squealing in delight, it didn't take much effort.

"I love these," she said, already opening the box of chocolates. "They're my favourite kind."

"I know," Violet said softly.

Paige lifted her gaze to her, and her smile stretched. She leaned over and kissed her cheek, startling her. But Paige didn't seem to notice as she pulled back, saying, "This is the best gift ever. I'm totally going to eat these before Christmas, you know that?"

Violet laughed, trying to ignore the warm flush beneath her skin. Paige popped one in her mouth then insisted that she eat one, too. And she could never say no to her.

They stayed in the music room, messing around with the instruments. Paige didn't do a whole lot of proper practicing, but she didn't seem to mind Violet's distraction. As they were mid-laughter, there was a knock on the door and a head popped around it. A boy. His beaming smile fell a little when he saw them both sitting there.

Violet was about to ask if he wanted something, but Paige spoke first with a roll of her eyes. "Derek, what are you doing here?"

"I was just coming to see if you were in here," he said with a shrug, trying and failing to be totally smooth. "Wanted to say hi. And see you."

Violet's stomach turned. Violently. She glanced from him to Paige, trying to gauge her reaction - annoyance, right? She hated Derek Hale, they both did. He was loud and annoying and was always disrupting the class.

But Paige was smiling. "Well, now you have. So, you can go."

"Right. See you later."

He left, but Paige was still smiling. Violet coudn't muster one. Her heart was almost beating too fast to hear her as she said, "I forgot to tell you" and launched into a recollection of how he had talked to her and what they had said the other day. The chocolate aftertaste turned sour in her mouth as Paige's cheeks turned pink and her smile grew wider with every word.

Finally, when there was a pause, Violet asked, "Do you like him?"

"What?" Paige rolled her eyes again and scoffed. "No, definitely not. I mean, he's kind of cute. In an annoying way. But I don't like him."

She avoided looking at her. The bell went, perfectly in sync with Violet's heart as she watched Paige get up, suddenly worried about being late for their next class. She waited for her, holding the door open, but Violet knew, deep down, that she had already lost her.

[crazymecjc]

shuake week day 2 - new game plus

plus, bonus!

[francy-sketches]

little baby in a silly hat

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[gumm1defloor]

Personally speaking if I had to pick one rairpair out of the entire hellaverse to become canon it would be Velvette x Verosica but man it is going to be the most lavish, fluffy, intensely intimate, passionate, rancid & disastrous 24/7 trending full blown shitstorm hell has ever seen I don't think anyone is going to be ready. Not even these two. Dear god especially not these two.

Man Verosica is just 2 for 1 on short gremlin kings who are also coincidentally emotionally constipated walking talking sacks of untreated mental illness wrapped up in 3 layers of intimacy issues isn't she but hey at least this one's pretty much guaranteed never to steal your credit card for horse riding lessons and most definitely won't be caught one ring down in wrath in the middle of fuck knows where with said credit card so.... yay improvement?

[sasusaku-on-the-brain]

What do you love about Sarada? c:

Aww well this is such a lovely ask to receive. Well very obvious one is that she’s the beloved daughter of my two faves<3 Sakura and Sasuke. 😌 😊♥️

also I have not thought of exactly what I love about her so this has given me stuff to think about ahaha. like if you were to ask me a list of what stuff I like her about her? I’d say everything LMAO. she is the daughter of my beloved otp, she’s like everything. but also idk???? I just love her????????? I love the expressions she does…. her design……. like. quite literally everuthing<3 she’s PERFECT !!!!!!

LIKE LOOK AT HER!!!!!

*brEaks into puddle of feels* GOSH

I really like the anime episode where lol she looses the gift she’s suppose to give this person in the hospital and she has to get it back — and lol, she doesn’t want to be like “boruto and the others” and go on top of the train to get it back…. lol. she’s kind of a stickler for “rules” in a way. also ahaha that smol interaction with shizune she has is so funny n everytih to me… shes so awkward<3 like also LOVED the whole chouchou&sarada too….gah… i love them so much… and JHBSDHJBS the part where shikadai sees her on the top of the train but isnt sure and LMAO they all (boruto inojin n shikadai) have evil ;) face at the idea of catching sarada riding top of the train so they could never let forget for the rest of the time of academy was SO funny to me.

i love their dynamic. also remiding of this idea i had for a comic which i dearly love. sarada using her sharigan to help them with a game lmao and she overuses it so much jsbdhbsJBHDFBD theyre so stupid<3

also man this ep had so much good moments… like this one whihc i love so much n never fails to make me laugh…. thEIR FACES. man i need to redraw it.

I’m loving her so much in the boruto timeskip manga too, like gosh — the way it starts and how she’s so determined to like get into shikamaru’s head that boruto isn’t the enemy and he wouldn’t cuz she’s one of the two that only remembers gosh. lol and how she gets fed up at one point and goes “you blockhead” and later is like… argh… I should haven’t said that to him/got annoyed… I know that it’s not his fault. like I THINK CONSTANTLY OF HER DURIJG THAT TIMESKIP!!!! How it must have felt cuz GOSH!!!! She’s like one of the two that ONLY remembers Boruto is the hokage’s son and now everyone sees him as enemy. Must be so painful. Damn. AND the fact that her father is once again traitor of the village cuz she asks him to look after Boruto and though she knows she made the right choice, must be hard<3 !!!!! I LOVE HER SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!

also I LOVE that she has sakura’s verbal… idk what you call it? Habit? “Cha!!!!/shannaroo!!!!” It’s soooo<3 like THATS HER DAUGHTER!!!!!!!!

Also the Gaiden manga, as much as the plot is so stupid, makes me so emotional!!!! The way she feels betrayed by her mom n dad, and misunderstands and the way she doesn’t care anymore if her mom is her real mom gosh. THE FACT THAT WHEN SHE FIRST THINKS SHES GOING TOO SASUKE SHE WANTS A HUG OH MY GOD!!!!!

Also one of my most iconic moments… her first fight in the chunnin exams. Lmao pls. She really was like “three seconds… watch me” HDKKDKD and did it. Pls. What even made her go “okay for my first match I’m GONNA finish it in 3 seconds” JDKFBJDKFKFKD. OBESSED with her. like??? did she know her opponent and was like yeah i can crush it. why did she announce it like that… what if she didnt win in 3 seconds…. i Love Her. also LOVE LOVE the lil moment she has with shikadai before she goes for her match.. the high five they share. its just a notmal moment but just. THEM,

SPEAKING OF TAGT… sarada n dynamics!!!!! I literally love every dynamic she shares with the characters. CHOCHO SND SARADA MY BELOEVED!!!!! They’re besties!!!!!!!!! oh my god i love them so much. like whats intresting to me in the gaiden, they hang out and are friends but dont seem super close and chouchou gets annoyed at her when she tells to spend time with her dad n train cuz she thinks shes speaking like that cuz irrc shes really good uchiha ninja or whatcer. but sarada meant in a way of spend time with ur dad. also lmao the misunderstandings they have in gaiden, lmao. also the anime fight between them in chunin exam 2 <3 gosh… I LOVE THEM!!!!! i ship them a lil too<3 theyre so cuyte………my heart wams every tme i think of them

sarada n inojin is also a Big Fav cuz that’s ino’s son !!!! also inojin has quite a sharp mouth so it would be sooo fun to see them interact. <3 Mondayminx’s art of them always gives me LIFE. also I really really like shikadai and Sarada’s dynamic of what we got see on the anime, anyways. I NEVER EXPECTED LIKE TJEM BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH??!!!! I wanna see them be friends!!!!!! I WANAN SEE THEM BE BESTIE!!!! like just wanna push them together in scenaories and interact… id love that a lot.

Lolol it’s so funny to me this is just sarada & team 10. I guess I really like them.

Like yeah Sarada & boruto are iconic duo too. THAT HUG IN CHPATER 5 IS FRESKING EVERYTHING TO ME. like DO NOT SPEAK to me about the boruto-sasuke-sarada dynamic canon gave to me. I FCKING LOVE IT SO MUCH. everytime i thiknk about it i cRUMBLE. I think about chapter 5 like SO MUCH. god.

LIKE I FREAKIN SCREETCHED. I think chapter 5 is like a masterpiece from top to beginning. In My Opinion. gonna stop myself from ranting on about it cuz i will Not Stop. Also I do generally adore Boruto and Sarada’s banters. like especialy the ones from anime academy era and the iconic scnee where boruto finds out he set him up to be the trip leader so he cant go off and do stuff lmao and hes like this is no way a woman who wants to be hokage should act like?! and she just goes heheh and runs off and he chases her and is like its not funny. pls therye so funny. i love them. They’re so freakin silly to me<3 also obsessed with the anime’s “yeah we knew each other as kids/yeah our parents are friends but doesn’t mean we lIKE EACH OTHER” during academy… also despite that like how Sarada was like “yeah I believe you/youre not a liar etc” about the whole ghost thing boruto was going through. Like they’re <3 to me. Also so emotional + funny to me that ahahah… they both admire the other’s dad and want to be like them. But also as much as I do love TJEM I don’t really think about them, they’re fun and nice… but sometimes im like meh about them and sometimes im like ahhhhHHHHHHH ahahaha.

I also do like Sarada’s relationship with Mitsuki, the other team member of her squad. But I don’t care for them that much as much I wish cuz they’re so boring to me… SADLY. but I do like thinking about them occasionally. They can be so much fun!!!!!!!

And of course…. Sarada’s relationship with her parents is like. EVERYTHING to me. Especially Sasuke and Sarada’s. Who are my fav characters ever in across naruto ahahah. And also gosh not to mention naruto&sarada who I don’t think of that much but make me EMOTIONAL AND FULL OF FEELS WHEN I DO!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE THE WAY SHE WANTS TO BECOME HOKAGE!!!!!!! BECAUSE OF NARUTO!!!!!!!! SHE ADMIRES HIM!!!!!!!! Sobbing, emotional. IM SOOOOOOOO.

also Sarada& Sakura are sooooo important to me. MAN THAT SCENE IN GAIDEN WHERE SHES LIKE “gonna protect you!!!” also the way she calls her mama is MY FAV… just Sarada’s voice…….. also not to mention the flashbacks 😭😭😭 to smol sarada. Like gosh when she was sick and Sakura was 🥺🥺🥺 passed out on her bed after looking after her. GOSH. They’re so important to me.

Also sumire and Sarada’s relationship must be SO interesting cuz they’re the only ones who remember who Boruto really is!!!! And they’re like alone in that retrospect. Also I do really like konohamaru and Sarada’s relationship too… even if I Barely think about it. Ahahah.

I JUST WANT TO SEE SARADA INTERAXT WITJ EVERYONE!!!!!!!! Ahahahah I even did like a gaara and Sarada comic interaction once ahah. Truly. I want all the sarada & everyone interactions. ahhhhh seriously….. a sarada time travel is like one of the things I have to do….. like it’d be SO MUCH FJN. especially if it’s during a time where Sasuke is ahaha rouge. Like jeez, thinking of her interacting with itachi too?! And younger Sasuke?! Makes my head spin in best way<3 also man her meeting her grandparents?????

Like sarada is such an interesting character considering the whole uchiha aspect. She is born in a time where her dad is the only uchiha, and she doesn’t get to spend time with her dad — so who knows what the hell she knows about them — considering Sasuke is on his mission then. So what she knows, she must have heard from Sakura. Cuz I assume to a certain point, Sakura must tell her about her grandparents/the Uchiha (but also I think Sakura would want Sasuke to tell her when he comes back since that’s right and because she didn’t know them personally) Which is interesting too — cuz that means Sasuke told Sakura about his family at some point. like, I’d think that Sasuke would eventually tell Sakura things about his family. Like beyond the whole “why itachi did it” which lol Sakura didn’t even know in canon but must have learned at some point post canon but also? General maybe stories about his family? Anyways back to the point: like the uchiha has SO much history and it’s kind of crazy that Sarada comes from a time where she doesn’t know that long history (or will in second hand only) like woah man…..

Not to mention she has like the mangekyo sharigan now??? Like DOES she know????? Yeah Sasuke knows and saw it but it wasn’t exactly the moment to tell her lol and like she can’t see her own eyes… but like now I’m wondering if you know uchiha feel it when they get the mangekyo sharigan… but I doubt that sarada knows she has it. Or well. The manga could prove me wrong. Also if she does start using it — which I hope not — cuz it’s gonna start give me stress. LIKE PLS SASUKE DO NOT START GOVING YOUR EYEBALLS TO HER WHEN SHE STARTS GOING BLIND. like SASUKE already lol has itachi’s eyes so would that work??! Maybe Sasuke’s old eyes are still around…. Or MAYBE they could a swap… of eyes…. So one of them don’t go with OMG WAIT. I FORGOT SASUKE ALREADY HAS ONE EYE STABBED AND…. DJDJKDKDKD. So lmao he’d only have one eye to trade with sarada… CRYIN. Pls what’s with the uchiha n their eye trading 😭😭😭

ALSO NOT TO MENTIPN HER BADASS SCENES SHE HAS….. the CHIDORI MOMENT!!! WHRE SHE GRINS LATER ON!!!!!!! AS SHE BREAKS THAT CORE THINGIE OF THAT GUY!!!! also not to mention god when she goes “papa… give me strength” which is like EVERYTHINg to me ever in the history of ever dhfbjd. also AHHHH every time she does her punches!!!!!! also that scne ewhere she fights the guy with rock or whatevr, i love it when she does taijutsu……. also the intial fight between her and hidari and how she sees his chidori comng and dashes a chidori of her own….. it was an awesome moment… also that scene where mitsuki islike sarada should be temp captain and JHBSDJBD shes like “captain isnt hokage but i like the sound of it” PLS I LOVE HER also the first plan against that guy and when he has her by the neck and she smiles as in ‘gottacha’ and does the fire jutsu… and i love the team seven fights the TEAMWORK!!!!!!!!!!

yeah…i Love Her So Much

[dirtytransmasc]

Hi!!!!

Do you have any hcs for how Alicole would try and solve and argument with the kids? Like, their dynamic (especially Aegon with Alicole cause he’s the oldest) is just so interesting and I’ve always wondered how an argument/disagreement would play out with them

ooh, tasty concept.

with arguments amongst the children, they try and get them to take a step back. they'll each take a kid (or two if it involves all of them) and give them a hug or something of the like, easing the tensions, before helping them come to some sort of compromise or agreement.

when it comes to non petty arguments that every child has, the source of issues amongst the kids is the following;

with Aegon they have to settle his need to compensate for feeling as though he is lacking. he tends to pick on his siblings when he's feeling down on himself. so it's a lot of affirming words and hugs while also chiding his cruel behavior. he's definitely hard on himself about being cruel as well, he doesn't like being mean it just sorta comes out of him when he's not in good spirits about himself. he shoves his siblings away over little things when he's upset which only makes him feel worse in the long run. the whole situation makes it hard to parent, as it's not right how he treats his siblings at times, but it's also awful how he feels and how it presents itself. there's typically long talks after the fact. Aegon's usually in his dad's arms, more often than not, while he mom comforts him.

with Aemond it's cooling his temper and frustration, deep breaths and grounding. they remind him that he can't let every jab get a rise out of him, that he always had them to turn to when he needs help, that he's not alone to handle his anger. they try and learn more and more each time, what triggers his anger, what helps him calm down, what to avoid, etc. sometimes he needs to just be held other times he needs a moment alone to breathe. they also try and help him learn how to self regulate and also make his siblings aware that he's getting upset prior to him lashing out (they also talk to them about it).

with Helaena, arguments tend to be because she thinks so differently from her brothers. not only is she a girl in a house of boys, but also because she's autistic (I was the autistic 'sister' in a house of boys for most of my life, it definitely brewed some unique arguments, and I'm gonna project god damn it), their ways of thinking and doing are so different sometimes that she just loses it. so with her, they let her talk, they let her ramble and decompress until she can ground herself, then they have to try and explain the boys point of views, how they see may not be the right way, nor is hers, neither are, but they have to learn to agree. then it's hugs and kisses and talking it out, before they go back to hashing it out with the boys.

Daeron's the most agreeable with the siblings, very adhd coded in my mind (so I'm going to project my brother onto him cause they're very copy pasted in my mind) so when he gets into an argument it's because he's going too fast, too passionate, and/or too much. so again, like most of their children, it's grounding first talking later. like Helaena, they have to explain that the way he is isn't bad or wrong, but that's sometimes we need to slow down, take a breath, cool off, and than continue.

with arguments they take their kids separately, normally separated into different rooms and they visit them together. depending on the exact situation they may just offer hugs and softness, or they'll play a slight game of good cop/bad cop, though they're careful with it. the goal is to solve the problem, not slap a bandaid on it. they tend to each kids needs before handling the actual issue at hand and then being them together to find a solution.

they can both be soft and stern in their own ways. Cole is typically softer on them, as he gets to their levels, takes them close while talking, but he has a stern voice and makes it clear he's willing to put a foot down if need be. while Alicent tends to be a bit more formal and stereotypically authoritative, sitting at the table with them, even if she holds their hands in hers and pulls their chairs close so she can stroke their cheeks.

normally the kids can make right up, or at least come to peaceful terms, but if it doesn't, cause kids can hold grudges like no one's business, Alicent and Cole are forced to remain wholly neutral which is much harder than one would think. most of their fights that lead to grudges are very childish so it's really just waiting for them to crack and realize it was a stupid argument. this is made easier when they don't get involved, so they just laugh amongst themselves where the kids can't see them, and try and keep face in front of them (they can smell weakness and betrayal. send help. a 4 kids household isn't easy). they definitely have moments where they wave the white flag cause one of the kids accused them of siding. the "get along" shirt is also an active and well worn member of the family (Aegon and Aemond share it often)

this video is very much Aegon and Daeron. they feud often. they're either acting like Aegon is a second dad to him, or they are actually going to war and have been sworn enemies for generations, fighting a battle to honor their forefathers (Alicent and Criston are so tired). speaking of Aegon being a second dad, he definitely oversees a lot of arguments between Daeron and his friends... does he understand little kid drama? no. is it entertaining as all hell? you fucking bet, he wants to hear all about what little James did at daycare.

when the kids are arguing with them, which with the way they run the house is pretty rare, but not impossible, they first take a step back for themselves. they will never show anger or cruelty towards their kids, so they make sure they're ok before they even think about talking to their kids.

talking will always be their goal, they never want to use threats or punishments to get what they want from their kids, and they have different ways about it. because their kids know how their household works, that things work on their time, and that just being open and honest, they really just need a day or two to themselves, if the reason for arguing isn't time sensitive, and then they can just take it out.

Aegon is sulky, he just closes himself in his room or flees to a friend's house (which they let happen so long as he leaves a note, leaves his location on his phone, and checks in every few hours) if its really bad. he'll drag himself back to the kitchen table in 48 hours tops, wanting nothing more than for his mom and dad to love him again (they never stopped).

Aemond is just frustrated past reason, so he'll go out and fence with his dummy or just something physical, then he's more willing to listen to reason.

Helaena normally had a boundary or nerve pushed, which was normally accidental, either cause she was already frustrated with something or something changed and it just put both parties in bad positions. space is all she needs.

Daeron is a bit of all the above. he's sensitive, though hard to cross, its often more about other things, something his parent did just broke the camels back, so a long run brings everything back to reason.

Alicent and Criston care so much about their kids, every argument they have with their kids, typically one-sided as they refuse to truly yell, breaks their heart whether or not they did anything or not. they never plan to punish their kids for arguing, they were kids once and they know that its good that they feel safe enough to stand up and fight for what they believe to be true, that they feel safe to shout and disagree with them. they would rather that over anything else, cause they know their kids trust them.

while they aren't permissive with their kids, their are rules and hard limits, they don't count arguing as something to be punished, and their kids don't tend to strand into punishable territories. so resolving a fight is a long talk at the kitchen table, no man's land so to speak, where all parties air their grievances. the problem is discussed, apologies are said on all sides, and sometimes it doesn't always end in a hug, but it does end in feelings being soothed and bridges mended. no one walks away with hard feelings.

they're not perfect, but they make it work, and because they've put so much time and effort into making their home safe and sane, the whole family in therapy, making active efforts to be nothing like their first "home" true arguments are far and few between, and when they happen they're equipped to handle it. Alicent and Cole are such good parents, their kids love and trust them, theirs so much space to talk and negotiate and handle issues early on that there typically isn't any reason to fight. I think that's what makes them such a good family, cause its so hard for me to picture them actually fighting outside of petty things.

[modpoppy]

the movie wasnt great, a lot of loosely answered questions, even more Unanswered questions, the action plot went nowhere, the character plot was kinda flat (ive been liking hanks arc but it got resolved wayyyyyy too fast/easily), dean shouldve transitioned, the comedy wasnt quite all there, the emotional moral felt rlly rushed, idk maybe mtl spoiled me too much

[mistfallengw2]

Brain "Yes, Adamas as an AU Commander/Champion of Aurene is really good... but what if, Tocchix in that role?" Me "But there are more AUs around him than anyone else!" Brain "Okay, but think of the new levels of angst!" Me "... Yes, honey 😞"

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe can’t always be mean to his delicate flower, can he?

c/w: fluff with a little bit of angst in the beginning, rafe feeding sensitive!reader pasta, slight subspace, smut: oral (f receiving), overstimulation, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2k

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when she finally hears the lock of the front door turning. Rafe’s home later than usual— a fact she’s entirely too aware of since she’s been impatiently waiting for him to return ever since he left her this morning without so much as a goodbye.  

Usually, she’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over her face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he’s going to miss her during his meetings— sometimes even wake her up with his cock prodding at her entrance before fucking her all sleepy and sloppy until she’s a sobbing mess.   

However, she assumes he was still mad at her because she forgot to let him know she was going out for drinks after her lecture before her battery had died. Therefore, she hadn’t received his several calls or the texts filled with concern and only a few hours later, did she remember that she’d never actually sent the message regarding her whereabouts.  

When he came to pick her up after she’d borrowed her friend’s phone in order to reach him, he was clearly displeased; merely muttering out a “ask you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. You know how fuckin’ worried I was?” and crudely telling her to go sleep in the guest room because “daddy doesn’t feel like dealing with your shit tonight”, which had resulted in wet droplets surfacing to her waterline while she kept apologizing over and over again, but to no avail.   

In the morning, she’d woken up to a tear-stained pillowcase and a headache. And when she tiptoed over to the bathroom, she realized that the entire house was desolate; he hadn’t even left a note.   

Therefore, she’s not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in her movements before she sees him in front of her in all his glory.   

“Hi,” her voice is quiet, but her forlorn face lights up nonetheless. 

Rafe is in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looks up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when she practically tumbles into his arms in a greeting.  

“Missed you,” she mumbles against his crisp button up when he rests his big hands on her hips in an attempt to steady her.   

“Missed you too,” he murmurs into her hair. “Got you somethin’,” he reluctantly pulls away in order to present her with a bouquet of pink lilies; her favorites.  

“What’s this for?” her moony eyes stare up at him in bewilderment.  

“Drove past a flower shop…guess they made me think of you,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek; confusing her to no end.  

“But I thought—” she utters out, hesitant to take the flowers she feels unworthy of.   

“That I was mad at you?”   

She nods, looking up at him with guilt swimming in her eyes.  

He lets out a sigh.  

“Listen, I was, uh, maybe a little too harsh on you last night, okay? I know how forgetful you can be. Was just worried when you weren’t home and didn’t answer your phone until hours later. Thought somethin’ happened, you know?” he explains with a calmness that placates her racing mind as she accepts his gift.   

“I know, m’sorry. Won’t happen again, promise. Texted you today the second I was home, right?”   

“You did,” he confirms as he peels off his suit jacket before sniffing the air. “Smells good, what’re you making?”   

“Oh, I made you dinner,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval.  

“You did? All by yourself?” his brows climb his forehead in surprise.   

She nods, a soft smile on her lips before he’s ushering her towards the kitchen and plucking a glass vase from the top shelf for her. 

Usually, he’s the one cooking for them since she’s not greatest in the kitchen, always so tired after studying the whole day, she’d probably forget the stove on and cause some sort of a fire due to her absentminded nature. Therefore, he prefers to prepare his girl a nurturing meal whenever he doesn’t have to work late.   

“How was uni today?” he asks as she sets the now flower-filled vase on their dining table.  

“A lot. Was kinda stressed the whole day cause I have so much homework and reading to do, don’t know how I’m supposed to have time for all of it. And then have this group project and the deadline for this essay approaching and…I don’t think my brain works anymore,” she sighs out when she peers down at the steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese he places on the counter.   

“Good thing you don’t need to worry that head of yours over anythin’ with me. Let dad do the thinking for you, yeah?” Rafe’s voice is as smooth as honey, causing her to blink up at him— something cottony dusting over her mind in response to his sugary cadence.   

Strong arms lift her up and place her on the marble countertop before he settles right between her thighs, like a puzzle piece she’s been missing the entire day; tall frame hovering over her even as she’s practically perched on a pedestal.   

Then, he’s picking up the plate in the most casual manner and contently shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth before groaning in satisfaction.   

“Shit, this is amazin’,” he praises around the mouthful.   

She mumbles out a flustered thank you, her thoughts all over the place since she thought he’d still be mad, but then suddenly he’s not. In fact, he’s seemingly in a great mood.   

“Did you eat yet?”  

“No, was, um…waiting for you. Didn’t wanna eat alone,” her volume is nearly inaudible. 

He stops chewing.   

“Waitin’ for me, huh?” he rasps out before he’s lifting the fork closer to her mouth.   

She looks up at him, puzzled.   

“Open,” he orders and she has no choice but to obey— let him feed her because truthfully, whenever she’s around him she gets a little dumb; can’t really focus on anything except his low drawl and gemstone eyes.   

“Good, right?”  

She hums her agreement around the bite, barely registering that some of the tomato sauce stains her chin in the process.   

“Always so messy, huh?” he tuts disapprovingly, even if he’s the one holding the fork.   

However, before her mushy brain has the time to even comprehend what he’s doing, he’s laving the flat of his tongue under her mouth; cleaning it up for her.   

“There we go,” he murmurs as he rubs a thumb over the spot for good measure.   

She swallows.   

“Want some water?” he asks and she nods, all of a sudden unable to utter out words.  

Then, he’s tipping a glass of ice-cold water to her lips, carefully watching her gulp down the liquid before he decides she’s had enough— withdrawing the cup in order to drink some of it himself.    

He continues feeding her every other bite and making casual conversation, all the while she feels herself softly slipping into a very specific headspace. And before she realizes, he’s placing the empty dish in the sink with a slight clatter; their bellies full and happy.    

She doesn’t think she wants to eat by herself ever again.  

Then, her foggy mind registers him in front of her again as he pulls her closer— warm palms slipping under her top and his thumbs idly smoothing over her tummy while she quietly stares at him with hearts for eyes.  

“You put this tiny thing on just for me, hm?” he questions as his eyes drop down to her cleavage; the pale pink lace doing a very poor job of concealing what’s underneath since she’s forgone a bra (and pants), as she usually does whenever she’s merely loitering around their home.  

“Look so pretty in this,” his dreamy voice rumbles as he swipes a thumb over a covered nipple, causing her to let out a faint gasp at the sudden contact.  

“Ray…” she hums out while he keeps rubbing over the squishy part of her body he knows gets her buzzing.  

“Hm? You feelin’ floaty already?” he asks with a gentle cadence. And she’s not sure how he always seems to know just the right words to say in order to turn her into clay.   

“Yeah, missed you so much,” her hazy eyes flicker over his face while he simply gazes at her, before he’s smearing his mouth on hers.   

There’s something hungry, primal in the way he groans against her lips— causing a whimper to escape her throat in response.  

Then, all of a sudden, he’s lifting her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing more than a single paperclip; making her squeak out a sound of surprise when he jokingly smacks her ass while walking out of the room before throwing her on the bed.   

“Let daddy say hi to his favorite girl, yeah?” he coaxes her before he’s prying her thighs apart and nuzzling his face into her cunt through the material of her panties; nose bumping against her clit, making her shift closer to him.  

“Missed my pussy so much, you know? Wanted to fuck you nice ’n slow last night but you never came home.”   

“M’sorry, daddy,” she can’t help but whimper out when his warm tongue licks over the already dampening fabric of her underwear.   

“Yeah? You gon’ make it up to me? Let me eat you ’till I forgive you?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want,” she blabbers, a whine leaving her vocal cords when he plucks the soaked through material to the side and blowson her sensitive cunt.   

“Shit, you’re so wet already,” he says in awe, letting spit drip down his tongue and onto her folds anyway. Then, he’s wrapping his lips around her clit, making her cry out because she can already feel her orgasm lingering underneath the surface.  

“Need to come, can I? Please m’gonna— ” she says, almost in a trance; already so wound up. And the way he’s practically torturing her achy button with his mouth isn’t really helping.  

After he’s hummed his agreement, she’s not able to hold it in any longer— his tongue poking at her opening when the knot in her belly unfolds. She’s shaking, thighs yearning to close, if not for his strong arms holding them open as he groans around her, seemingly lost in a daze with her taste and smell practically suffocating him.  

Since he knows how insatiable she tends to be, he refuses to pull away from between her thighs. And two more orgasms later, she’s a whimpering muddle; desperately trying to drag her hips away from his unrelenting hold. However, he’s entirely too strong and she doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Ray, s’too much, need a break—” she complains, eyes beginning to turn watery in response to the overwhelming pressure.  

However, despite her protests, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to mess with her entirely too sensitive clit with his fingers now— pressing and pulling and making her whine as tears trickle down her cheeks and she tries to fruitlessly wiggle away from him once more.    

“Nah, you’re good, dad wants you to give him a few more, think you can do that?” he mumbles against her sticky folds, stuffing the tip of his tongue into her weepy hole as an effort to persuade her.  

“I don’t know if I can—”  

“Shh, jus’ wanna make you feel nice, you don’t want me to?” he feigns hurt when he lifts up his head, beginning to mouth over the soft skin of her inner thighs to pacify her; his slight stubble tickling her in the process and making her twitch.  

“No, I do, I do…”   

“Then quit whinin’ and let me take care of you, hm? Show you how much I love you,” he coaxes her to give in. And when he puts it like that, she thinks it does sound rather romantic. 

[secondhand-sonder]

In my friends' and my dnd campaign one of my friends' characters used to be human living on a planet of druids but they got transformed into a robot, and during the evnts of this campaign they got turned back into a human but with like. no memories of being a robot. and it's making me feel stuff ok

Imagine you're suddenly someplace else, as if you fell asleep some time ago and woke up elsewhere. There's a snake man standing over you. The people around you are calling you by a name that's not yours. They're looking at you with confusion, which is understandable, and familiarity and hope, which isn't. You ask who they are, how you got here, where you are. And suddenly all of their faces just drop. The confusion is still there, stronger now, mixed with fear. A small elf girl says that strange name again, questioningly, hands over her mouth. Somehow, you can tell she's a druid, and you begin talking to her in druidic, hoping that will get you some answers. The elf girl starts to cry. You try the snake man who looks horrified, and he tells you the name of the place where you are. You have no idea where that is. The elf girl asks you why you don't remember the people around you. You don't have an answer for her.

Imagine you've won the war that you got roped into fighting. You could have continued roaming the universe alone, unbothered by any obligations, but you decided to stick it out with your friends and see it through for them. You were going to go back to the solitary but peaceful, but bring a certain robotic friend with you. You never got the chance to ask him. Now he's gone, replaced by someone who looks similar to him but is completely different in every way. His name is different and no matter how many times you repeat his old name in disbelief he does not remember it. As an elf you had expected to outlive all of the friends you had made but you didn't think he would be gone so soon, like this. But he's not gone, is he? He's just been replaced by somebody else, someone with no memories of the time you shared or even who you are. You can't help but grieve for someone who's standing right in front of you.

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.

Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader

Word count : 1899 Words

Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst

Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than

Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing

Prequel -> > The radio star lost <

a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T

Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.

The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.

But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.

A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.

You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.

The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...

"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.

"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.

Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.

Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.

Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.

A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.

This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.

"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.

This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.

"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.

"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.

"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.

Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.