#still makes me weep that he kisses you if you give him a flower in surprise guest

[anotherobeymeblog]

Okay this is my last post about the Christmas event (probably) but man. Is it ever reigniting my love for Asmo. He's the perfect balance of sweet and an absolute menace.

Honestly, all the characterizations were absolutely fantastic, but Asmo is usually given such crumbs that him actually having a personality again stood out in particular. Ngl this might finally dethrone the 2020 genie event as being my favourite event plotline.

[rosemoncherie]

birthday kisses: t.wolff

pairing/au: toto wolff x black socialite!reader smau

summary: toto spoils you on your special day.

warning: nsfw 18+, mdni, age gap (reader is late 20s), fluff, pet names, toto is giving sd vibes but he’s your bf, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, praise kink, minor size kink, breeding kink, soft!dom toto tendencies.

note: this is extremely self-indulgent and the sexual content is extremely explicit and long so please read those warning before continuing. yesterday was my birthday and I couldn’t stop thinking about him lol. enjoy my loves!

tags: @queenshikongo3 @bluesole16 @christinabae @aisharmi @hoziersfairy @queenzee27 @omgsuperstarg @lewisroscoelove @itsyagirlmeee @joviallljas @serpenttines-library @hrlzy @sugardontbesweet @tallrock35 @tian-monique @f1-hoff @peyiswriting @thewolffswife @mochiminimoni @bekindbecoolbeyou @xoscar03 @kenbechillin @rehenys @hellomadamebutterfly

w.c: 3.6K

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thelovelyyn

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thelovelyyn Despite his busy schedule, loulou was able to make time for me and fly us out to our special place for my birthday 💋.

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uchjn happy birthday wifey! tell loulou that he better give you the world or else I’m on him!

⤷thelovelyyn uchjn 😂 he read your comment and he said he won’t let you down!

⤷uchjn thelovelyyn that’s what I love to hear 🤣

userfan21 happiest of birthdays beautiful!

userfan35 please! are you finally going to tell us who loulou is? 😭

⤷thelovelyyn userfan35 maybe … 👀

⤷ userfan11 thelovelyyn i will be totally normal about this

lewishamilton happy birthday little one 💜

⤷thelovelyyn lewishamilton thank you Lewis 😊

userfan44 is Lewis loulou???? Like the nickname would make so much sense!

⤷userfan66 userfan44 I highly doubt it’s him. Lewis has been hanging out with Jamilah Riley a lot, like a suspicious amount.

⤷ userfan44 usefan66 oh purr! I still want to know who it is because she’s been soft launching loulou for ages now. I’ve had enough 😭

You giggled as you read through the comments on your post as laid beside him. After Toto had woken you up with flowers and an early breakfast, he dragged you back to bed and played with your body until you had climaxed as least twice.

“What are you laughing at?” He asked as he turned his face into your neck and placed soft kisses on your flushed skin.

“My followers are trying to guess who you are.” You replied as you placed your phone onto the side table and shifted your body so that your legs were entangled. Toto’s disheveled hair was softly brushing against his forehead as he looked down at you with a lazy smile on his face.

Your body was in his arms as you laid beneath him, skin to skin.

“I thought that we had agreed to become public today?”

“I know but I want to keep the suspense going on a little bit. I’ll post something later, in the evening.” You explained as both of your hands were on the nape of his neck, playing with the strands of his hair.

“Whatever you want sweetheart.” Toto mumbled before leaning down closer and brushing his lips against yours. Your body melted as you opened your legs further as he slotted his body in between your thighs. Your mouth fell open as you gasped, feeling his hardening cock on the flesh of your thigh.

His kisses were like molasses, his tongue pouring into your mouth like sweet honey. Your cunt was weeping for more of his attention as if he hadn’t been inside of you an hour ago. Your manicured nails scratched at his scalp which caused him to groan into your mouth.

Toto broke away from the kiss and trailed tender kisses along your jawline and then down the column of your neck. “If I don’t stop now, we wont be able to leave this bed and every thing that I had planned for us for the day would go to waste.” He whispered into your skin before he took a deep breath and pulled his body away from you with great reluctance.

You smiled at him as your eyes drank him in, letting your gaze explore every part of him. Years of experience showed on him and he wore them with great confidence. Hard in the right places and soft in others and you loved every inch of him. His thickness stood erect in between his legs. Thinking about the way that he had brought you pleasure over the year and had your thighs clenching.

A part of you wanted to tell him to forget about the plans and spend the day with him in the suite with your body on his. However, the fact that Toto would need to fly out to Saudi Arabia for coming race weekend put your lazy thoughts to rest.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Toto mumbled, a smiled blossoming across his face as he swatted your rising leg that had been coming towards his chest.

“I can’t help it. You’re too handsome.” You complimented him which caused him to roll his eyes as he got off the bed and picked you up into his arms and began walking towards the bathroom.

“You flutter me sweet girl but today it’s all about you. I should be the one showering you with praises.”

“You do that everyday.” You giggled as you placed a peck on his chest.

“And you deserve it even more today.”

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thelovelyyn • 30 minutes ago

[ TWITTER ]

“I think our fans have caught on before the main post has been uploaded. We’re the talk of the twitter streets all thanks to your back.” You told Toto as you walked to the main area of the suite where he was he packed your presents and gifts away.

“I was wearing a cap and a jacket, how did people even pick up that it was me.” He chuckled as he turned around to you at his full height.

“You have a pretty distinctive figure. I’ve spent so much time looking at you that I could probably point out who you were even if my vision was blurred.” Your last comment caused Toto to laugh.

He took your hand into yours and pulled you into his embrace until he was able to cup your head into his hands. “Did you enjoy your day baby?”

“I loved it. Thank you for everything.” You whispered as you looked into his eyes. Toto had spent the day spoiling you. A trip to the local market to get some sentimental souvenirs and then a personal boat ride along the coast line. You spent most of the day out in the water swimming and enjoying each other’s company.

Once back on land in the evening, he took you to dinner at your favourite Italian bistro and surprised you with a live performance from a local artist that you come to love since the last time you had visited the area.

Despite all of the materialistic things that he had been able to provide, Toto had poured his love, time and care into you and you overwhelmed with how much you loved him. You were happy.

His eyes danced around your features, drinking them in like he was looking at you for the first time. He held you in his arms as your bodies seemed to dance to a silent tune.

“I love the way you look at me.” You softly say as your eyes lock with his.

“I love looking at you.” His head tipped against your forehead causing his nose to bump against yours. The touch aroused a shameless giggle to leave you before your lips touched his. Your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck as you relaxed into his hold.

His hands moved along the sides of your body and across your back as he pulled you in closer as he enjoyed the feel of your soft skin underneath his fingertips. A soft sigh left you as Toto had began to press kisses on your neck until he got to the sweet spot where your jaw met your neck.

You could feel his smile against his skin as you jerked in his arms as he used his teeth to tease the sensitive spot. Toto let his skim over your drumming pulse, leaving a kiss on the vein as he made his way back up your jawline before stopping in front of your lips.

“Toto.” you mumbled against his lips as your eyes peered up at his.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“Don’t take it easy on me. I want it all.”

“Are you sure you want that tonight?” He smirked, raising one eyebrow at you as he leaned back to look at you to check for any uncertainty.

He found none.

“I’m sure.”

He took you to the bedroom and did not waste any time in undressing you. Laying kisses on your skin as he did so and by the time he was drawing your thongs down the length of your legs, you were drowning in your own arousal.

Toto laid you on the bed and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Something dark and filled with lust rested in his eyes as he sank to his knees before you. Without breaking eye contact, Toto leaned in and let his lips touch the skin on the inner most part of your right thigh – it made goosebumps prickle across your skin and a hitch of breath to get stuck in your throat.

He softly chuckled at the reaction. It was the same one every time and he would never get tired of hearing it. His eyes locked in your soaked cunt and he groaned.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” He said. “All messy for me isn’t it schatz?”

“Y-yes,” you managed to stutter out – your whole body alight under his dark gaze. Toto hooked his hand under your thighs and then placed them over his shoulders giving him the most perfect view of your wet cunt.

“You told me not to take it easy on you yeah?” He whispered as you looked down at him. This time you didn’t give him a verbal answer, you just nodded your head. Toto closed the distance and buried his face between your legs. He started with a kiss directly on your clit before he dipped lower to taste you properly. Small and breathy sighs escaped your lips as your hand ran through his hair to keep it from falling over his face but also to anchor yourself as the flat of his tongue lapped at the seam of your cunt, not letting any of your arousal miss his mouth.

His mouth felt so good.

His mouth always felt so good but today there was something electric in the way his tongue teased your hole before going back to pay attention to your clit.

You couldn’t hold back your moans. Your legs dug into the groves of his back as you moved your body bucked to the patterns of Toto’s tongue.

“Oh fuck!” You exclaimed when he found your clit again, an intensity building in your core as you continued to buck your hips into his face. Spurred on by your noises and movements, Toto sucked on your sensitive bud, laving his tongue over it in lazy strokes and repeating the actions over and over until your legs were trapping in his head.

You squeezed your eyes shut as your back arched off the bed. Your orgasm was approaching quickly and all it took was one more sweep of his tongue on your clit before your floodgates opened and you came into Toto’s mouth. Your body had locked up and kept him in between your thighs as you tried to calm down.

Your first orgasm had rocked you. For how much Toto loved to speak, he also knew how to use his mouth very well for other things. When your legs began to relax, he pressed soft kisses in the creases of your thighs.

His kisses trailed back up your body as his big hands held you steady while your chest heaved for breath as you tried to calm down. He hummed as a lazy smile spread across his face as he hovered above you. He was still dressed but his skin was tinting red with the bottom half of his face, wet from your cunt.

“Sit up and lean against the pillows.” He instructed you. You didn’t hesitate to follow what he had told you. “Spread your legs … yeah, that’s it.” Toto kept his eyes on you as he stripped his body of his clothing. He stood in front of her at the edge of the bed with his cock in his hand as he jerked himself.

Your hands were itching to travel down body and shove your fingers inside of your pussy but he hadn’t told you to do any of that. You bit your lip as you watched him continue stroking himself. He was clearly affected too.

He was panting as he used his thumb to spread his pre-cum across his tip. The move caused you to lick your lips with a slight hunger.

“You want my dick in your mouth baby?” He smirked as he caught you.

“Yeah.” You whispered as a blush creeps up your cheeks. The bed dips with the weight of Toto shifting on top of it until he was hovering above you.

“Maybe tomorrow but tonight is all about me giving you exactly what you wanted.” He shocked you by shifting your positions until you were above him. You gasped as you placed your hands on either side of his head to steady yourself.

“Sit on this dick. Take it.” You settle your legs comfortably on either side of his waist as he leaned back on the headrest as you hovered your hips above his impressive cock. You placed one hand on his shoulder as you guided his dick into your cunt.

His hands steadied your hips as you slowly sank down onto him. Your mouth fell open as the size of him stretched your walls open. Your cunt was still softly aching from this morning but you felt whole with him back inside of you. He tried to ease you all the way down and once you were filled to the brim.

“Uuuuhhh.” You whimpered feeling him so deeply. Toto reached forward and placed a soft kiss on your chest as he moved one of his hands to the bottom of your back and began to guide your movement.

“That’s it schatz, takin’ all that cock for me like the good girl you are.” He praised you as you rocked forward in his lap to the set tempo.

“You always feel so deep like this.” You breathed out as you dug your nails into the muscles of his shoulders. The expression on your face right now is why Toto loved starting out with you on top. He smiled as soft mewls left your lips.

“Because it feels good doesn’t it liebling.” He cooed and you frantically nodded your head. You couldn’t answer because all you feel was his cock hitting your spot and you could see stars behind your eyes.

“Bounce on this cock baby. I need you to come on my cock.”

You had tried to start off slow but you were already tethering on the edge of your second orgasm. Your bounces were fast and eager - the drag of his cock inside you felt so different tonight. You opened your eyes and took him in. His eyes were glazed over as he parted his lips to let out unrestricted sounds. The noises that he made were deep and rugged, moving his hips to meet the momentum of your pleasure.

“Liebling you’re squeezing me so tight.” He groaned. “You’re about to come aren’t you? You’re about to come on my cock.”

“Uh-uh,” you moaned as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your thighs were burning from how fast you were working them but it didn’t matter until his thumb hit your clit.

“Oh shit! Oh shit!” You gasped as you fell forward until your head hit his shoulders as your entire being shook as your climax rocked your body. Both of his hands wrapped around your waist as he stilled you and fucked up into you as you fell apart in his arms.

Breathy, whiny moans left you in quick succession as you drenched his length. Feeling your cum soak him causes Toto to loudly groan. “I love the way you soak me.”

He held you until your tremors had subsided.

Then his soft touch turned hard. Toto folded your body, pliant under his touch - he put you underneath him on your stomach with your ass in the air, supported by pillows as your still quaking legs.

Toto pushes back in and your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock. Your fingers pull at the sheets underneath your fingertips as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against the back of your thighs. “My perfect girl. Tight like a vice around me. You have no idea how good you feel.”

“Baby.” You whimpered as he moved to pull out until only his head remained inside. His hands parted your ass cheeks as he watched himself sink back into you.

“I wish how beautiful your pussy looks when it’s stuffed full of me.” His words were dripping with unadulterated filth. His words, his hips powering his thrusts, his scent, you were completely drunk with lust.

When you had told him to not take it easy on you, you had assumed that Toto would take you hard and fast but no, he took the other route of overstimulation. You were only able to handle two orgasms before your body became sensitive.

Your third orgasm was on the rise.

He lowered himself until his strong chest was pressing into your back - his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "From the moment I saw you that day, I knew I had to have you. You were so beautiful schatz.” Your walls clamped down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him.

"Fucking hell, this pussy is magical. And it’s all mine.”

“It’s y-yours baby.” You gassed through rugged breaths of air.

“That’s right baby. I’m never letting you go.” Toto grinded into your ass, going in so deep it felt like he was trying to touch your womb. He placed his hands flat on either side of your head as he rolled his hips in a rhythmic languid motion until loud, squelching noises coming from where the two of you were connected.

Your hands wrapped around his wrists as you took his pounds in stride. “Oh please!” You cried, begging as your stomach tightened in knots. Toto growled as he shook your hand away and wrapped his palm around your neck and turned your head in a way that forced him to look up at you.

He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “The look on your face right now makes me want to fuck you more.”

You were at a loss for the words. In the time that you’d been with the older man, he’d never fucked you like this - this was the fucking of a man unhinged and you loved it.

His whole body was covering you with his full weight behind every spine-curling thrust. His hand was restricting your air as his dick punched the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat but failing to come out.

Toto had finally broken you. You mind had gone blank and your body seemed to have gone momentarily numb as you finally snapped —

Your mouth fell open as a loud scream left you, your eyelids squeezed shut as you broke underneath him, heat gushing from where Toto continued to sink into you with a steady, slow rhythm that never ended

“That was the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever done for me sweetheart. Squirting all over me but still taking my dick because you’re such a good girl huh.” His praise made you swoon and clench tightly on his cock.

Your bodies were drenched in sweat and the musk of your love-making.

Toto dragged your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it hard as you took his sloppy thrusts. His harsh panting was music to your ears until he moaned “I’m so close baby, so fucking close.”

With all of the strength that you had left, you mastered the words that would break any man.

“Come in me, please.”

And they definitely broke him. His body collapsed, dropping the both of you onto the bed. His hands gripped your hips as he slammed his hips into yours. One … two … three … Toto roared out his release - his cock twitching inside of your used cunt and filling you with his spend.

His damp forehead touched your back as he took in deep breaths of air as tremors of his climax send waves through his body.

Your eyes were closed as you silently took in how thoroughly fucked you had been. Then he began to leave kisses along the column of your spine.

“Happy birthday, princess.”

Happy birthday to you indeed.

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thelovelyyn Thank you to my loulou for making this birthday one for the books. i love you

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mercedesamgf1 Happy Birthday YN! The factory misses you.

⤷thelovelyyn mercedesamgf1 thank you! will be visiting again soon!

lewishamilton thank god. now people can stop thinking that we’re together.

⤷ thelovelyyn lewishamilton like anyone wants you anyway 😆

⤷lewishamilton thelovelyyn my girl would beg to differ

teamlh6 lewishamilton your girl????? EXCUSE ME!!!

mercfan01 A true fashion girlie is about to grace the paddock. I’m living!

ynfanpage05 the fact that you’ve been together for a year now 😭 we need the pictures sister

⤷thelovelyyn ynfanpage05 Toto hates selfies but I’ll post all my fave pictures over time 😂

userfan829 Seeing Toto with you has charmed me.

ynfan178 I would have never expected that you guys would be a couple but seeing the two of you together is like a breath of fresh air.

——————————

ru’s letter: please let me know what you think! 💋

[sometimes-i-write-good]

Where I’m From

Top Gun: Maverick - Hangman x f!reader [no use of y/n]

3.6k | Jake Seresin could handle lots of things. He was the only naval aviator of his time to have a confirmed kill - two, actually. He kept forgetting about that second one. It was newly under his belt, and, considering the circumstances surrounding it, he hadn’t felt too inclined to brag about it. Still, the point remained. Jake could carry the weight of taking a life, of saving a life, and of putting his life in harms way. 

What he could not handle was the weeping girl in front of him, brushing away tears on their first date.

===

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

CW: swearing, kissing, mentions of past relationships (neglect)

Author’s Note: Is Jake slightly ooc? Yes. I just wholeheartedly believe this man would be a gentleman on a date. Also, soft!Jake >>>>>>> || cross-posted on Ao3

Part Two

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===

“You’re early.” You said, opening the door wider and waving him in once you realized it was Hangman (a story you were hoping to pry out of him on your date tonight) standing across the threshold. “I’m almost done, I promise. I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologize, sugar.” Something about the careless way he slung around terms of endearment like that heated your cheeks.

Jake stepped in with that same easy grin he was wearing when he’d asked you out. You look good, but I think you’d look even better sitting across from me at dinner tonight. Cocky, arrogant. A toothpick rolling back and forth between his teeth. Not your type at all, but it had been so long since you last dated someone.

So, when the blond in a military uniform slid into the booth across from you this afternoon at lunch you agreed. Without a single care for all the alarm bells ringing and desperate reminders from your subconscious that all men sucked.

And now you were standing in front of him with a half-zipped dress, half done hair, and nerves that made your hands shake so badly it was hard to finish anything at all. “Give me 5 minutes?”

Jake nodded, then, as though remembering why he’d gotten here so early to begin with, he moved his hand from behind his back and presented a small bouquet of flowers to you. Simple and sweet. “These are yours, darlin’.”

The accent brought you back to reality. Tied you down to earth and kept you from tearing up. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m a gentleman, mostly,” Jake said, “so tell me where I can find a vase and I’ll get this set up. You go get ready.”

“Under the sink.” You waved your hand off in the general direction of the kitchen eyes still a bit too wide in shock. Someone had given you flowers. A complete stranger had given you flowers.

The stranger made towards where you vaguely gestured to but came halting to a stop shortly after. “Problem, doll?” He asked, turning back towards you with slight concern. Warranted concern, really, seeing that the noise that just escaped you made you sound like you’d been stabbed in the side.

“I’m sorry-”

“You need to stop apologizing.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You ignored the look he shot you. “I- just… can you take your shoes off? Please?”

An easy smile crossed onto his face. More human than those prideful grins his flirting game so heavily relied on before. “Yes, I can do that.” Jake laughed, but it wasn’t rude or condescending. A kind-hearted, ‘I am so glad that’s all the problem was’ kind of laugh. “Go get ready so I can make everyone in that restaurant jealous that I’m takin’ the most beautiful lady out on a date.”

There wasn’t much arguing with that. You’d tried to come up with something witty to say to him as you finished getting ready, but every time you thought of what Jake had said to you your heart would beat a little faster and your head would spin. It was pointless. You could hardly remember your name when you looked his square in the face. If you were to actually stare into those green eyes of his you’d surely melt into the floor. Exactly what happened when you finally emerged from your room, shoes in hand, and let him at the front door.

Jake had been lingering in the foyer staring at all the pictures on your wall and the decorations that comprised who you wanted the world to see you as. A bit to honestly now that your eyes followed his to the goofy selfies or the ‘boofa deez nut’ candle you’d gotten as a gag gift and proudly displayed as a middle finger to the friend that had gotten it for you. The embarrassment should have killed you, but instead it was Jake’s eyes flicking up to meet yours that did you in.

You stumbled slightly. In your attempt to cover the movement to make it seem like you were bending over to put your shoes on, you’d stumbled more. Jake moved forward almost unconsciously to steady you, let out a low whistle and said, “You clean up nice.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’ve seen me looking like half a disaster.”

“If that’s half a disaster, then you truly do put the ‘hot’ in ‘hot mess’, sugar.” Jake laughed and opened the door for you. He held it open, closed it behind you, and waited as you locked it. Then walked with you to the car to open the door for you there as well.

You thanked him, short and polite and completely caught off guard. Everything he said in that short walk from your front door to his car completely escaped you. Something about how you made a casual dress look like the most elegant outfit on earth. Just another charismatic comment to deepen the warm pool in your stomach. As though there weren’t enough butterflies flapping around in there already.

“You can pick the music.” Jake nodded toward the radio.

“I like classic rock,” you said. “It’s my favorite, actually.”

Jake grinned. “After my own heart. See, I knew there was somethin’ about you.” He turned slightly to put his arm around the passenger seat as he reversed, and you caught a whiff of his cologne. Subtle. Yet entirely welcomed, up until he winked at you.

Maybe this was all a game to him. Jake seemed like the type to charm a girl and leave her heartbroken. The prying eyes at the counter back at the diner had almost confirmed that for you. Whispers and nudging that you had wished you’d seen before you agreed to go out with him. This whole evening could very well be some big bet for the hot shots in the Navy to cash out on. All at your expense.

“So.” Jake cleared his throat. “You from around here?”

Once again, an awkward reminder that the two of you knew nothing about one another besides your names and addresses. Well, just Jake knew your address. He’d insisted on picking you up.

“No,” you told him. “Midwest, born and raised.”

“Stir crazy so you moved out West?”

“Something like that.” You nodded. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say you’re from down south?”

Jake laughed. Your heart skipped yet another beat and if it didn’t stop doing that you were going to have to schedule an appointment with your doctor before the night was out. “You’re a good shot.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Texas.”

“Oh, a cowboy?”

“Hardly.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the best of the radio. “I know my way around a horse, but I like to think I belong in the sky.”

“So, I should call you flyboy instead?” You ask with a slight giggle to your voice. More nervous than anything but there’s no mistaking the way the corners of Jake’s lips pull back at the sound. You want to take a detour to base just to ask those friends of his if he normally smiles this much or if you can allow yourself to feed into the delusion that someone as stunning as him saw you in a rundown diner having lunch and was so enamored by you that he simply had to ask you out.

“Only if you put a ‘my’ in front of it.”

Conversation flowed easily after that. The drive to the restaurant wasn’t long but still let you have a good idea of who Jake was. A flirt, first and foremost. He couldn’t go thirty seconds without calling you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sugar’ and any way Jake could make a comment about how wonderful you were, he was taking it. You stared at him the entire ride, studying his profile. He was a handsome man. There was no denying that. Old-fashioned in the way where you and your friend would flip through history books and point out who you would have fallen in love with during that time period. If someone were to show you a grainy photo of a navy pilot, his was the kind of face you’d imagine.

He pulled into a spot, and you immediately set to unbuckling and letting yourself out of the car.

“Ah,” Jake said as he shut off the car, “stay where you are.” And he hopped out to jog to the passenger side. “Here you are, darlin’.” He opened the door, offering you a hand, and helping you out of the car.

“Do they teach chivalry classes down in Texas?” You ask. He’s too busy positioning your hand on his bicep and leading you into the restaurant, where he holds open the door for you again, to answer.

“Sersin. Party of two,” he tells the host, who leads you to a table with a single, unlit candle in the middle.

Jake pulls your chair out for you, then settles in across from you in a strange mimicry of earlier today. You half expect him to spew the same cheesy pickup line but instead he fishes a lighter out of his pocket to light the candle.

“That’s better,” he says and turns his full attention on you with a grin. “So, tell me everything there is to know about you.”

You laugh, genuine this time. “About me?” He nods. “There’s not much to know about me. I’m kind of boring.”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m serious! My life is eat, sleep, work, repeat.”

“So is mine.”

“Yeah but you’re flying fighter jets and I’m too nervous to ask my boss for a promotion when I’m doing the work of two people.”

Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “The work of two people, huh? You’re a hard worker, and I’m guessing you’re damn good at what you do, too. I wouldn’t call that boring.”

You roll your eyes at him, but the compliment brings a smile to your face. “I guess you could say that.”

“Okay, so, you’re hardworking, talented, and beautiful. What else is there to know about you, doll?”

“Actually, flyboy, I want to know why they call you Hangman.” You lean forward and rest your chin in your hand. “That’s what everyone was calling you earlier today.”

He nods, leaning back in his seat. You drink in the movement. The way Jake squaring his shoulders has his nice green button down straining against his muscles and how he runs his tongue over his lips as he conjures up a thought.

“The real story, Seresin.” You raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“You remember my last name?”

“I texted it to my friend just in case you were secretly trying to murder me.”

He nods slowly. “You can never be too careful now a days.”

“Yup.”

“Well, you can tell your friend the only reason I’ll be making you scream is because my tongue is magic.” The waiter chooses that moment to appear over your shoulder asking if you and Jake are ready to order anything, leaving you a stuttering mess as you struggle to order something to drink. You can hardly form the word water to the point that Jake does it for you. “Thanks,” he tells the waiter as he walks off. Then he focuses his full attention back on you. “You held yourself together well.”

“Oh fuck off, you did that on purpose.” By the way he doesn’t deny it, you can tell you have him pegged. “Back to your true story.”

“It’s not as interesting as the one everyone else likes to tell.”

“I don’t care, flyboy. I want to know you, not everyone else.”

Interest sparks in his green eyes. “If you insist.” He leans forward, mimicking the way you’re on the edge of your seat. “In flight school we were running drills out in an old hangar when this nasty storm rolled him. Hurricane level winds and shit. Came out of nowhere. None of us were feeling too inclined to make a run for it in that kind of rain so we figured we’d hole up in the hangar for a few hours. There was an old radio that worked for a little bit, and we figured there was no time like the presence to get some maintenance on this jet done until the weather down, but the power went out.

“We had some flashlights and lanterns and things so it’s not like we were totally in the dark, but the stories ran out fast. We were bored out of minds. So, I recommended playing hangman. Something easy and simple ‘cause you can’t get too competitive with these guys. They take it way too far.”

“By them,” you cut in, “I’m guessing you mean you?”

He nods. “I won every single round and stumped them with all my puzzles.”

“Impressive,” you say, “I bet that pissed them all off.”

“Let’s just say everyone else’s version of why they call me Hangman holds a slight hint of disdain.”

The rest of the dinner flows naturally. You two talk without a single lull in conversation. He makes you laugh. He continues to compliment you every chance he can. But the real thing that works its way under your skin and lodges itself in your chest is the way he offers to switch plates with you when you take a bite of your meal and realize you don’t like it.

“No, Jake, you don’t have to. I’m a big girl. I’ll just deal with it.”

“Nonsense. It was my recommendation anyway.” Jake stares at you, jaw set, and voice firm. “I am not having you starving on this date. Give me your plate.”

And so, you swap plates with him taking a bite out of the steak he’d been raving about in the car when something in you breaks. You can hear how excited his tone of voice was. “It’s hard to get a decent steak when you’re on base.” He had told you. “The chow hall is okay if you like shoe leather and all, but now I hardly have time to make a decent cut of meat for myself.”

He gave it up so easily. The minute you set down your fork after three or four bites. Jake was telling you he’d switch. It… it was too much and you couldn’t help the sweeping off tears pushing at the back of your throat.

“Ah, shit.” He whispered. “Do you not want the steak? I can order you something else-”

You cut him off with the wave of your hand, which you quickly used to press over your mouth and stifle and unflattering sob. “No,” you whimpered, “this is perfect. Everything is perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Jake asked. “Because most ladies don’t start crying on dates when things are going well.”

You could tell he meant well. There was a joking lot to his voice and the bastard grin was back in his face but it only reminded you of how out of your element you were right now.

“I’m sorry.”

“I already told you to cut that out, sugar.”

“I know.” You sniffled, but tears kept falling. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.” Jake softened a bit. He reached out across the table, palm up waiting for you to slip your hand in his. When you did, he squeezed softly. “Want to talk about it?”

With your free hand you swiped at your cheeks. “I haven’t been on a first date in- actually, I’ve never even been on a date.”

There was no denying the way Jake’s eyes widened. “You’re tellin’ me men aren’t breakin’ down your door to take a pretty thing like you out on dates?” You shake your head. “See, that’s the issue with California folk, they’re idiots.”

He grins gently at you, which you return in full. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would.”

“I’ve had a couple boyfriends, but we never did relationship stuff.” Jake’s brows furrow in confusion and you rush to explain. “They would never want to leave the house. If I wanted to go out it would have to be by myself. They never asked me on dates or called me ‘darlin’’-” Jake rolls his eyes at your imitation of his accent- “or tell me I look beautiful. None of them ever held a door open for me. This is the first time I’ve even gotten flowers…” you trail off and bite down on your lip.

“I guess I should have seen it coming,” you fill the silence. “Everyone I’ve ever been in a relationship with has cheated on me. I guess I’ve always been a side chick or a rebound or whatever and you don’t really take side chicks out on dates. I always figured I wasn’t worth the romantic stuff, but there you are taking me out to a nice dinner and swapping dinners with me and… and I got overwhelmed.”

Jake is staring at you with a strange mix of anger and confusion. The gaze is lacking pity, which you appreciate. If he were to think of you as a poor girl who couldn’t land a date, you’d walk home before finishing this dinner.

He says your name so softly for the first time that night. There’s a thousand times more emotion in that name than all the pet names he’s been calling you.

“This isn’t romance.” The words make your heart sink. “This is the bare minimum. Basic kindness, sweetheart. You deserve this and nothing less. I- it makes me so frustrated to hear you talking about a relationship where some asshole let you believe you didn’t deserve to be treated like a princess.” Jake’s voice wavers slightly as he talks, anger bleeding in but not raising his voice to an unacceptable level. “Where I come from this isn’t chivalry. This is the way things are done. If I’m taking a beautiful girl like you out on a date, you better believe I’m going to make sure you know that I’m the lucky one.”

More tears prick at your eyes. Your bottom starts to quiver and when you open your mouth to apologize for getting weepy again Jake shakes his head at you. “I don’t know which one of those ducks told you that you had to apologize all the time, and I’m sure it was one of them, but you never have to apologize for things like this, doll. You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re allowed to talk about them.”

“Yeah, but it’s not good etiquette to bring up your exes on a first date.” You slip your hand from his to better wipe at your face. This sinking feeling of shame seeps into you. You probably look like just as much of a wreck as you were turning this date into.

“So this won’t be our first date, then.” Jake says it so simply. The easiest solution in the wonderful despite it not making sense in the slightest.

“What?”

“We’ll call this afternoon our first date. I stole food for your plate and took a couple sips of your drink, so it counts.” Jake grins at you. “This is our second date, which means it is completely okay to talk about your exes.”

With a small sniffle you manage to meet his eye again. The intensity that he looks at you has your face warming up again. “I have to say, Jake. I think I’m the lucky one tonight.”

“You’re not sitting on my end of the table.”

===

Bonus:

Jake insisted on opening the door for you again when he pulled up to your house after dinner. The two do you had lingered as long as humanly possible, but the wait staff looked as though they were going to run the pair of you through with a kitchen knife, so you reluctantly chose to head back towards home.

“Thank you.” You grabbed his hand as you stepped out of the car.

“Gives me an excuse to walk you to your door, pretty girl.”

“Oh, so this was all part of your masterplan?”

He laughs and stops under the light of your porch light. You’re fiddling with your keys, not too eager to open the door and end the night. Jake steps closer towards you, saying your name again for the second time that night. It’s a magnet, pulling you towards him so that his hands can settle at your waist. Those green eyes of his flick down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“I was waiting for you to ask that.”

Jake slides a hand from your waist to cup your cheek and he brings his lips to yours. No kiss you’ve ever had feels the way this one does. Right. Even your long-term relationships were twinged with shame or doubt. Kissing Jake feels like forgetting your own name is completely normal because you want to be washed up in this feeling of bliss for forever. He pulls away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against yours, and it takes him a moment to finally open his eyes.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, voice cracking slightly.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want you to think I’m only trying to hook up with you.”

You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. Once again Jake takes a few seconds afterwards to fully look at you. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re having hesitations about sleeping with me on our second date and that’s something only gentlemen do.”

Jake laughs. The sound is like the bliss of your kiss personified. You want to drown in it.

“Plus, I think you promised me that I’d have a story to tell my friend about how good your tongue is… or do you only use your mouth to talk big game?”

He nipped at your bottom lip. “Unlock that damn door right now, dollface.”

You thought he’d never ask.

[luffysscraps]

You’re in love;

Ft; Luffy. Zoro. Sanji. Ace. Law. Kid.

Cw; Fem reader. Angst. Broken hearts

With Luffy. How could you not have fallen for your own captain? He makes you smile; he makes you laugh. He’s kind, sweet and playful. But you’re not the only one. He’s like that with everyone. Those smiles, those laughs, those sweet moments are not special. They’re for everyone when you had thought they were only for you. “Woah Y/N… a little close huh?” Your heart snaps in two watching the man you love pull away from you when you leaned in to plant the kiss on his lips you thought he wanted to share with you. You held in your tears, apologized quietly and nodded your head. The rubber man then awkwardly got up and left you there to weep your broken heart alone.

With Zoro. The swordsmen. The man who trained late into the night without a care of his aching muscles or what time it was. You often brought him snacks, blankets for when it was too cold and iced lemonade when it was too hot. Because you cared. But he didn’t. He only noticed you when he was drunk, he’d have his way with you and then say nothing of it the next morning. “Let go Y/N.” You couldn’t take it again. You begged for him to stay with you, lay with you until the sunrises but he just walks away opening your door. “We’re never doing this again.” He shuts your cabin door leaving you there to cry alone.

With Sanji. And you thought he loved you too. He’s sweet and flirty, always being so kind with you. Staring at you from across the table. Giving you flowers and kissing your hand. How could your heart not eventually beat for him? But when it does and you give into his flirtations, after a night with him everything stops. He seems distant. No longer calling you sweet names, no longer gives you flowers or flirts. He smiles and acts like the two of you are just friends. You begin to wonder is it your body? Did you not please him correctly? “There’s plenty of fish in the sea.” Is all he tells you before you both silently go back to being friends.

With Ace. That handsome man. The funny, loud and bashful Ace had stolen your heart and didn’t even know it. He’d flirt with you up and down and then laugh finding your red face funny. He’d hug you by your waist, whisper sweet things in your ear and give your cheeks kisses. He’d get drunk and go on and on about how he wanted to marry you one day. So when he pulled back when you went to kiss him it surprised you. “You… didn’t think I was serious did you? It was all a joke.” You felt a ping in your chest and ran away from him tears dwelling your eyes; hoping he would come and cheer you up, hug you and tell you he loved you. But he didn’t.

With Law. The surgeon of death was very kind to you. You found yourself clinging to the Heart pirate’s captain. But he was always studying, always working day after day. You feel a bit neglected when he’s in his office all day every day. And when he comes out, he avoids you. Simply exiting a room when you enter it. “I knew you fell for me. But I do not feel the same way Y/N-ya.” You finally ask what’s wrong and he shoots you down. Your heart pulsing in pain as if you were on his operation table. And before you can say another word he shuts his office door on you leaving you alone in the hallway.

With Kid. You’re mad at your heart for acting so silly. The male was so obviously heartless. The way he talked to you, he called you a whore; he called you a bitch. And you still fell in love with him. “You’re so fucking stupid!” He laughed at you. You told him you loved him and he laughed at you. He was still laughing in fact. Even when tears streamed down your cheeks his laughter didn’t stop, no in fact it got louder. He laughed and laughed stomping on your heart. He grabs your cheeks and belittles you, calling you a worthless worm. Then he shoves you to the ground and continues on with his day.

[zukkaoru]

waltzes into your inbox hiiii ^^

platonic kiss with kenji + anyone

spiderman kiss with kunichuu (is this predictable of me. sorry)

bloody kiss with tachigin!!

kunichuu spiderman kiss.. falls over and blacks out (other two are under the cut lol)

Chuuya is sitting on the ceiling when Kunikida returns to his dorm. Their knees are hugged tightly to their chest, and they’re staring straight ahead, gaze unfocused. Their coat looks more like a blanket with how it’s wrapped around them at the moment.

Kunikida frowns to himself. This isn’t the first time Chuuya has shown up unannounced—if Kunikida truly didn’t want them in here without a warning, he wouldn’t have given them a key. But it is the first time he can recall them stopping by just to mope.

“Chuuya?” He calls out. “Are you alright?”

They blink slowly, then mumble something Kunikida can’t make out.

Kunikida purses his lips. He toes off his shoes, then crosses over to where they’re seated. The dorm ceilings aren’t very high, and Kunikida is rather tall himself, so he’s about at eye-level with Chuuya. When he reaches towards them, they flinch.

His hand freezes in midair.

Chuuya lets out a strained sigh. “Sorry. I’m used to Dazai being the only one who sees me when I’m like this.”

“Ah.” Kunikida nods understandingly. He moves again, and Chuuya leans into the touch. It’s slightly awkward, cradling their cheek while they’re upside down, but Kunikida makes it work. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Chuuya shakes their head. “Not right now.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Chuuya shrugs.

“Let me know if you think of something, okay?”

Chuuya nods. Then, they lean forward, nearly imperceptibly. But Kunikida catches it, and he understands what they want. He closes the distance between them, slotting his lips against Chuuya’s. It’s a soft, chaste, kiss, but when Kunikida pulls back, Chuuya is smiling, so he figures it did its job.

“Will you sit up here with me for a bit?” Chuuya whispers.

Kunikida has work he needs to finish. He needs to make dinner, so it’ll be ready when Kenji returns from helping the Tanizaki siblings. He should also probably shower tonight.

“Of course,” he agrees anyway.

Chuuya’s grin is more than worth scrapping his schedule for the evening.

kenji & naomi + platonic kiss

Kenji places his finished flower crown on Naomi’s head, clicking his tongue as he does so. Once it’s in place, he steps back and grins. “It looks very nice on you, Naomi-san. You were right—the red flowers do match the tie on your uniform!”

Naomi giggles. She immediately grabs for her phone, turning on the front-facing camera so she can look at herself. Kenji has been making flower crowns for everyone in the office lately, because it gives him something to do with his hands, and Naomi is thrilled to finally have one of her own.

She’s already decided that once the flowers begin to wilt, she’s going to press them so she can keep the crown forever.

Once she’s finished admiring the crown, she sets her phone down and turns back to Kenji. She leans forward, kissing the top of his head. “Thank you, Kenji-kun. I love it.”

tachigin + bloody kiss

Tachihara’s face is painted red like the uniform marking his betrayal. The band-aid over his nose is half-peeled off, dangling awkwardly. The white bandages over his eyes are stained with blood.

But he’s still standing. He’s alive. Gin could nearly weep in relief.

They rush over to him, dodging the corpses littering the ground. They sheath their knife without bothering to clean the blade before throwing their arms around Tachihara and dragging him into a tight hug.

“Gin—”

“Don’t,” they interrupt.

Tachihara falls silent.

There are a thousand things Gin could say, but none of them seem quite right and Gin has never been particularly fond of speaking anyway. So they pull back just enough to crash their lips against Tachihara’s. The kiss tastes coppery, and Gin doesn’t know who the blood belongs to, but it doesn’t matter because Tachihara is alive.

They run a hand through his hair, imagining red now streaked through the dyed orange. Their tongue flicks against a cut on Tachihara’s lip, and he whimpers before opening his mouth wider to deepen the kiss.

[thecw-unicorn]

Yandere! Giorno Drabble

The lovely, beautiful, stunning, and amazing @mrsgiovanna is hosting a Giorno month for his birthday in April, and as soon as I saw those yandere prompts I just HAD to write something so here’s my contribution!!!

TW: toxic behavior/relationship

He had given you another gift.

It was too much. The way he’d look at you. The way he’d talk to you. So loving, so sickening.

As if he wasn’t responsible for the panic attacks, the endless hours of weeping, begging to be let go. It was a vicious cycle, seemingly incapable of being broken.

You often cycled between sadness and anger most days, often accompanied by helplessness. Every day was a battle to find the will to even get out of bed.

The locket sits in front of you. “Do you like it?” He asks, intent on an answer. “…it’s lovely.” You answer. It was the truth. A rose shaped locket, with delicate moonstones as the leaves surrounding it. It was beautiful, and yet you couldn’t stand to look at it. “I really don’t need it, Giorno. This is too much.” You were surprised at how fast the words came out. As if the barrier holding you back had suddenly burst. Giorno chuckles slightly, leaning forward and gently grasping your hand, as if you were made of the most delicate porcelain. “I just want you to have the loveliest things, amore.” He mumbles. He gives you a sweet smile, and raises your hand up, and places a small kiss on it.

“Would you like me to put it on?” He asks. “Umm..sure” you quietly reply. He smiles, then steps behind you, taking great care to gently sweep your hair over your shoulder. He takes his time to place the necklace around your neck, and clicks the button in place, straightening it up one last time, and smoothing out your soft hair. He pauses for a moment, taking a moment to admire it. He’s always loved your hair, and frequently insisted on styling it for you, opting to braid it most of the time, with specific flowers threaded throughout. His action causes heat to spread across your face, silently thankful he was behind you.

He never failed to make you blush, much to your annoyance. He could cause your anguish and deep bottomless pit of despair, and yet would be the only one to comfort you. He’d give you the most beautiful and unique flowers. He’d hold you in his arms on the worst nights. You hated it. You hated how good it felt. You hated how he would cause you to retreat to your room, trapping you with nothing but your emotions (most prominently your sadness and anger), and how after a few days, he’d lure you out with sweet and cooed words without fail. You hated the confusion of it all.

“Is everything all right, cara? You seem distracted.” Giorno asks, jolting you from your thoughts. He’d already sat back down in front of you. He could always tell. Know every single thing about you in that one moment. It made you feel hopeless, or like a glass statue, made to be seen through. “I just miss my family.” You said, doing your best to seem as sad as possible. He always got overwhelmed by your tears. That was the one thing you felt you had over you. He may have just about all of Italy in the palm of his hand, but you held his heart. At least, that’s what he told you. It was hard to believe, with the extreme isolation from anybody that wasn’t him, or his immediate close friends. He’s always treated you gently, almost loving. Despite this, you didn’t trust him. Physically, he can do anything to you whenever he wanted, although he vehemently swore to never ever raise a hand to you, and that promise has remained truth in your time with him. But still, his muscular and tall, imposing figure still kept that fear alive.

You heard him exhale sharply, and can see the clenching of his chin. Whether it was from your sad tone, or the mention of your family, you weren’t sure. You knew how much he didn’t like it when you brought up your past, especially your family and friends. “Amore, we’ve been through this.” The annoyance was clear in his voice and face. You could feel your blood running cold. Would this be it? The final straw? He hated repeating himself, he told you, and you’ve mentioned your family a few times. How much more of this talk would he handle? You shudder to think what he would do if you had pushed them too far. He sighs. “They have their own lives. And we have ours here together.” He says after a tense and uncomfortable silence. He sees the impact on your face, the way your shoulder crumbles in defeat. He didn’t hate your family, not truly anyways. He merely wished you would stop concerning yourself with them. It’d only cause more heartache.

“Can’t I just see them? One last time, to say goodbye. Then I won’t mention them ever again. I promise. Please.” You emphasized, tears forming in your eyes. You couldn’t help them, but you knew they would affect Giorno even more so. He closes his eyes and turns away, not able to stand the sight of you crying as you suspected. He hated it when you begged. It reminded him of all the other people who would come to him, begging for his assistance with whatever task. How they’d go on their knees, particularly sobbing and swearing to do whatever for him. Seeing you begging like the others made his stomach churn. You were different, you were special. The others most of the time were by no means decent. You were, and so much more. You shouldn’t have to grovel the way the others did for his attention and aid. You are so much more special than the others, and you couldn’t even realize it most of the time.

“Cara…” he starts. “You know I would give you anything and everything your heart desires. But that is too dangerous.” You shouldn’t have been surprised. Anytime you asked about your friends or family, or going outside the villa, you were always denied on the basis of the danger. Not once have you ever seen or heard of these so-called dangers he feared so greatly would come upon you. “You are my wife. I vowed to keep you safe, and I will do anything to achieve that.”

You cringed, feeling your stomach turn. You detested when he referred to you as that. You didn’t consent to this life, to this mockery of a marriage between the both of you. You remember that day. Or specifically, that night. You were dreading the idea of getting intimate with him, and could hardly eat any of the finely prepared food that was served to you that day. That night, the both of you retreated to your luxurious hotel room, Giorno had attempted, (for a lack of a better word) to consummate the marriage. He’d kissed you gently, several times, patiently waiting and seeing if you gave consent, and attempted to rouse you, slowly sliding your dress off. You couldn’t remember what happened next, everything being an emotional blur. Whether he said something, or the reality of it all came crashing down, you were then sobbing, retreating to the bathroom, and spent the rest of the night hiding. You could barely face him the next morning. After that, Giorno hadn’t tried to be any more intimate than a kiss.

“And yet, there’s been no threats. Ever.” You said, it coming out much more spiteful than intended. “That you know of.” Giorno adds. “I may not tell you much, but believe me, there is much more happening than you realize.”

Of course there was. You thought. Of course, there’s some big bad guy out there who wants to do nothing more than to hurt me.

“I don’t want you worrying about those things. You don’t need to know. You tell others I’m nothing more than a monster, when all I do is try to protect you!” He said, desperate to get you to understand his point. He had one final gambit for your understanding.

“Just today. There was an intruder in the gardens.” He quietly revealed. “He had pictures. Of you. He obviously had help and there are others…but the goal is clear. He is just the first.”

You were stunned. Is this true? Surely, it couldn’t be. As if reading your mind, he pulls a folder from the drawer of his desk. Inside, you quickly identify photos of…you. He wasn’t lying to keep you here. He wasn’t exaggerating to make you frightened of the big, bad, scary outside world. You could see the various angles of you. In the garden, mostly. Reading, looking at the flowers, or just staring off in the distance. The images of you were brief, mostly obscured by the surrounded area, as whoever took the photos did their best to remain hidden and unidentified. You could feel the fear creeping in. You really were in danger. There really was people out there who wanted to hurt you for no reason other than to hurt Giorno.

Speaking of, he immediately picks up on your change in demeanor. You couldn’t remember what happened next, only that his warmth enveloped you, keeping you upright so as to not let you fall. His cologne filled your senses, now more comforting and familiar than ever. He gently strokes your soft hair, inhaling it’s scent. The action is awkward, as if he could barely keep his own hand from shaking while attempting to comfort you. “Don’t worry;” he cooed, “I won’t let them hurt you. I swear to it”. You could feel the tension easing from your shoulders, giving into him. The tears that fell from you had buried into his clothing. Was he always this way? You wondered. Have I been so blind in my hate and despair? His presence now comforting, as opposed to irritating and overwhelming like before. Maybe he was right. Maybe he is the only one meant to take care of me…

Giorno quietly opened the bedroom door, not wanting to awaken you. He had spent the better deal of the remaining evening and night dealing with the trespasser who intended to take you from him. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t hold back on someone who wanted nothing more than to hurt you. You, an innocent, a bystander who’s done nothing to nobody to warrant any kind of harm. The thought of others out there still watching made him enraged and sicken to his gut. He didn’t want to rest, not now, not when there’s others who know of your existence.

You roll over, mumbling slightly in your sleep. He’s spent many a night watching you sleep, often when sleep can’t and won’t find him. He watches as your chest slowly moves up and down, making sure nothing is amiss. You were almost at peace, save for the information he told you earlier, far away from his mental anguish and turmoil at this situation. It hurt him, truly, to see you so frightened and upset, but it was the only way for you to understand. You’d be frightened before, when you first arrived, fearful he’d take your body, your life from you just for the sick pleasure of it. Caging you wasn’t for the sake of keeping you to himself, but for you to be safe from his world of deception, lies, and backstabbing. One he couldn’t have you coming into at any cost necessary. It took time to build some wavering form of trust between both of you. While Giorno would’ve preferred it to happen sooner, knowing you were here and safe made him content enough.

But even now, you weren’t safe. Not in the one place he thought you could be. Not when it was the sole reason he’d brought you here. The knowledge cut deep, to his core nearly. He swore to you, to himself, and the universe he’d do whatever it takes to keep you safe and healthy. No matter what. He couldn’t help be recall the song he’d once overhear you listening too.

May I…stand unshaken amid amidst a clash of worlds

May I…stand unshaken amid amidst a clash of worlds

May I…stand unshaken amid amidst a clash of worlds…

[expired-applejuice]

Based on:

Dark paradise by Lana Del Rey

Grantaire takes the bullets.

Enjolras pretends to be shot but he was spared. No words were spoken. None could be. Grantaire was choking on his own blood, while Enjolras was trying to keep his sobs quiet. Still they had a conversation. Grantaire smiled, holding Enjolras hand. Enjolras kissed his head while squeezing his hand tightly. He felt useless as Grantaire slowly died in pain.

When the women came to clean, one, who resembled Grantire, found him still clinging on his hand whispering a tearful apology. She too started to weep and helped the young leader up, pulling him into a silent hug. Enjolras apologized for getting blood on her dress, but she said not to mention it.

Days later Marius found the leader in the abandoned Cafe setting in a chair. The place was empty besides the furniture and two school boys. Marius sat across from him. He took note of Enjolras's bloodshot eyes, and his tear stained face. He held a tight grip on his handkerchief as he stared off into the room. He no longer wore his red coat, nor was his hair at his shoulders. No, he wore a black trench coat that was buttoned, with his hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

Marius looked no better with his bullet wound, broken bones, and shattered heart. Cosette, who took care of him, said he had gain some color back but was still awfully pale. His hair seemed to darkened, and he felt like he aged 20 years. He wasn't sure if he was alive without a soul, or just lost.

"What are we to do now?" Enjolras's weak voice broke Marius from his thoughts. He looked back at the blonde, who was still staring into space.

"I'm not sure, brother," Marius answered as they fell back into their silence.

After a sad sigh, Marius turned to the door. He haft expected their friends to walking into the door laughing. He waited for it, but they never came.

Enjolras found that he missed their laugher the most. The roar of it after one of Combeferre's remarks. The not so hidden chuckles when Bossuet trips. The gleeful victory "haha"s when Bahorel or Grantaire won a sparing match. The sneaky snickers that accured when a prank was being played. Their smiles. Their voices. Their presence. Them.

Feuilly always worked hard. Harder than any other in Paris. Joly was so compassionate and helpful to everyone. Jehan Prouvaire was simply a bright star that always helped them get through rough patches. Bahorel would always have your back in the best and worse way. Courfeyrac could influence anyone to do anything, but was still respectable. Combeferre, with his smarts could outwit a sly fox. Bossuet could give some of the best hugs. Grantaire, as much as he hid it, would have done anything for the group. Oh and how could he forget Gavroche? The little guy had more spirit in him than any of them. And poor Eponine, she was tougher than any of the national guards' men.

Enjolras spent so much time on the revolution that he had no idea who or what he was without his friends and movement. Really he didn't want to remember who he was, because it wasn't. It was not him. Not anymore.

"Their funeral is tomorrow," Marius reminded him still looking at the door.

Enjolras finally pulled his eyes towards Marius, "Yeah. Musichetta promised to help cook the food."

"That's nice."

"Yes, and Montparnasse promised to help Bury them."

"I'm thankful for him," Marius looked at him, "How's Grantaire's sister?"

Enjolras looked down at the table, "She saying it wasn't my fault. I'm just glad she agreed to move in with me, you know? With out Grantaire she probably wouldn't be able to make rent."

Marius nodded.

A few months later, Enjolras walked to the graveyard. He said hi to each of his friends, and even Javert, placing a flower on each stone. He stopped at Grantaire, sitting by his headstone in the snow. The blonde, who wore a green heavy coat, pulled out a bottle of wine and placed it by his stone.

"Marius' wedding is today," He said out loud, "I just got back from the tailors. I'm honored to be his best man."

The wind blew into his face making a roar in his ears. It was freezing, but Enjolras didn't leave, "We've helped each other a lot in these past few months, Marius, your sister, Musichetta, Montparnasse, and I. Talked a lot about old times. It's been hard."

Snow started to float softly down around him. It was beautiful and peaceful. "People say we should move on, past the revolution, love, and friendship. They tell us to forget the songs and memories."

Enjolras laid down in the snow, feeling as numb as his legs. He looked at the sky, "Sometimes I close my eyes, you lot are still here. You're drinking your wine. Courf' and 'ferre are talking about something Courfeyrac said to get Combeferre heated up. Joly and Bossuet are talking about Bossuet's soup he made for him. Jehan, Feuilly and Bahorel are singing a song. And 'Poni and Gavroche are happy. I feel save in this place behind my close eyes."

"That's when it scares me. It scares me because when I go to join you one day, will I see you? Will I be punished for causing this to happen? Will you guys want to see me?" Tears fell from the corners of his eyes making his face colder.

He closed his eyes and he was still there, everything was the same. The only difference was Grantaire laying beside him, holding his hand, "Red, you say the stupidest things. We're waiting for you guys."

"Are you really here?"

Grantaire smiled sadly, "I love you Apollo."

Enjolras opened his eyes and he was alone.

"I love you too, Icarus."

[izvmimi]

cw: angst. fem!reader. palace drama au. a/n: someone on my old blog asked me to repost this months ago lmfaooo i hope they see it. part of an abandoned tokrev palace drama fic.

From the perspective of the Fourth Royal Consort of Manji Palace, during the third year of the reign of Emperor Manjiro:

---

From the day you were born, your parents had astronomically high hopes for you.

Finely educated in the ways of grace, femininity, literature and other arts, you’d been cultivated possibly from the day you were born to be the perfect royal consort, perhaps even Empress.

For that reason, you were demanded from the time you knew what it meant to kiss, touch romantically, or dream of flowers and smiles from dashing men, to guard your heart. Chastity was a given - no woman intended to eventually reside in the inner palace would risk allowing themselves to be tarnished by any other man than the Emperor - but that was of body, not of mind. So it fell on you to follow this additional doctrine, to keep your heart unfettered.

You didn’t try to look, head buried in books, trying to keep the words that came out of your mouth limited to poems and wise adages from long-dead philosophers. You didn’t try to feel either. Your back remained straight, and your head held up high. You learned to curtsy, to pour tea, and to giggle politely with your hand covered over your mouth.

Perhaps putting your best foot forward was your undoing.

“I come here today with pure and honest intentions to request your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Imperial Guard Baji Keisuke keeps his head lowered as he addresses your father, the long, wavy tresses you’ve so quickly fallen in love with cascading down his shoulders and nearly shrouding his face further, if not for the topknot that keeps most of it out of the way. He’s wearing the less armored version of his military uniform, to make it clear that his rank is very high, and he can provide for you.

But he is not the Emperor.

This is as humble as you have ever seen him look. The toothy grin he flashes you often, head laid lazily in your lap as you recite books from memory that he wouldn’t bother to read himself, is no longer in view.

Your father scoffs.

“My daughter is destined for better things, young man.”

Baji is motionless, but the fact that he doesn’t sway or stiffen gives you hope.

“I would protect and cherish her with my life if only you allowed me.”

“You have nothing to offer that the Emperor cannot.”

Baji finally does stiffen but his voice remains steady. By this time, you are close enough to weeping unceremoniously onto the floor of your home, but instead you remain knelt politely, your hands folded in your lap, your eyes lowered as well as you rest besides your father. You try desperately not to let a single tear fall.

You want to beg please. The Emperor cannot provide you with love the way Keisuke can. You don’t care about riches or an unparalleled place in history. All you want is him.

—-

“Run away with me.”

To this day, you’re shocked that you were the one who asked, not him. Baji’s eyes widen and the moon illuminates the brown of his eyes. He watches your face carefully, looking for any sign of wavering resolve, of uncertainty and finds none. You would leave behind everything this very second, if only he asked.

“___,” he whispers your name. It’s wrong to see each other in the cover of night, more wrong still to be discussing what is nothing short of treason. You could be discovered; you could be killed. It doesn’t stop you from begging.

“Please. We can find a place in the mountains and make a home for ourselves, living off the land. I am willing to work-” you show him your palms, soft and tender and naïve to even a day of hard work, “I don’t mind if we struggle as long as we’re together.”

Baji’s heart sinks as he listens to your pleas. He’s good with a bow - he’s strong, he can hunt. He can survive. He can take care of you.

But you, could you really…?

“No.”

The word takes the wind from your sails, drops an anchor and sinks your hopes.

He bites his lip and lays hands on your shoulders. But he looks away to his surroundings, as though he’s watching for people listening. Really he just cannot meet your eyes when you look at him as though the light has extinguished behind them.

“Keisuke…” you begin to sob.

“You must be tired. You’re saying ridiculous things.”

You shrug off his shoulders, fire rising in your chest.

“I’m telling you how I feel.”

“I won’t run away with you,” he says firmly this time. This time, his eyes are on you and they’re as fierce, almost as threatening as you imagine him to be on the battlefield. You recoil a bit and maybe for a split second he softens, but when he lets go of his grip on your shoulders, he crosses his arms.

“Don’t ever speak of it again,” he says. “It’s…” he pauses, then swallows hard. “Treason.”

Your mouth drops open.

“Keisuke.”

His face is vicious now, and his hands ball into fists.

“You belong to the Emperor. Don’t ever forget it.”

Before you can catch your breath, he’s already turned his back on you, and in moments he’s gone. Just like that your love story ends.

I can’t let you resent me, he thinks, but you will never know.

—

Baji campaigns in the North on the day of your wedding. He doesn’t witness you join the harem, he doesn’t watch as you’re bestowed title after title, he is unaware of your many gifts or what your new palace looks like. He’s on the battlefield, and rather than think of you, he thinks of sinking his sword into his next enemy. He thinks fondly of returning home to Manji Palace, but no longer to you.

When he finally returns home, you, seated with the other wives, do not look at him. But you make a speech and congratulate all the soldiers on returning home.

You do not look at him as you speak.

You will not look at him.

And he can no longer bear to look at you because you are the Sun, and he is no longer Icarus.

[rosemaze-reveries]

“the devil and the deep blue sea” 🃏

pairing. the weeping clown (swallow of deception) x you genre. angst & obsession synopsis. the deceptive god swears you’re the exception, do you believe him?

my writing here is super clumsy >< this scene wouldn't leave my head until i wrote it, and after it finished i had no interest in cleaning it up anymore. even so, i hope someone might enjoy it

The Swallow first presented himself inside your dreams.

Like a ghost, he had no discernible face to show, but you learned him well: he spoke with a tenderness that reached into the depths of your heart and cradled you with promises of making all your dreams come true. It didn’t matter if he himself was just a dream — he was a flicker of hope in the darkness.

“All I ask is your trust,” he said. “Yield to me and I will guide the wayward sons of your island home.”

A simple enough trade-off. Your faith in him deepened with every encounter. And soon, he began to adopt a more tangible form: no longer a wispy ghost of your dreams, but a bodied man with warm eyes and curls of snow-white hair. He spent long nights sharing your heart and kissing away your tears.

For a moment, he pacified all your grief.

But all dreams must eventually come to an end. More and more villagers vanished at sea. He laced his words with a sweeter and sweeter poison. You seemed to be the only one spared from your island’s misfortune, and the Swallow’s true intentions became crystal clear.

You were beginning to dread your next encounter with him. By now he must had known you’d caught onto him, but the idea of confronting him frightened you. No amount of "I love you"s could mend the skepticism unraveling in your heart.

When he appeared again at your balcony, spotlighted by the moon above, you pretended not to notice him. He was an ethereal sight, almost like a god. But you kept your head turned away. He said nothing to announce his arrival either, as if he knew you wanted to voice your own inner turmoil first.

You kept your focus on folding the paper dolls in front of you, something you used to do religiously in the past. A doll for every lost islander. And another for every lost hope. You entrusted them with your wishes and prayed someone out there might hear them.

Clearly, the reappearance of these dolls meant that your faith in the Swallow was dwindling.

He observed your work from a distance, face impassive, still waiting for you to acknowledge him. A single golden teardrop trickled down his cheek. To that, you scowled. He could weep at your feet as much as he liked, you had no more sympathy left to give him.

He tried again. Extending a closed fist towards you, he opened his palm to reveal a pile of tiny paper flowers. They spilled from his fingers and were caught by the sea breeze, fluttering your way like gentle butterflies.

If this little magic trick was his attempt at an apology, you were not amused. You swatted the flowers away from kissing your cheek, and they disappeared a blink later.

“...You are cruel, you know,” you started. You hadn’t looked his way just yet, but this silent game was too irritating to bear. “You’re twisting our elders’ hearts to death. And mine, too.”

“I know,” he said. You didn’t want to let him get to you. But his nonchalant answer washed all of your frustrations over you once again, and you accidentally ripped the paper doll in your hands. You stared at it blankly, then tossed it into the nearby fireplace.

Another paper doll discarded because of him. You remembered burning them all the first time you thought the Swallow had answered your prayers. Now he got to you again— that irked you more than anything.

“I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me.” Delicate voice, cliché excuse. He was exhausting.

“If you really meant that, you would stop what you’re doing. But you won’t. You will do as you please sending more of us to our dooms.”

“You’ll be spared.”

Your hands stopped briefly, but returned to work a second later. “If the trade-off is a life of heartache, I’d rather not take it.”

“...I’m sorry.”

You waited for him to continue, but he stopped there.

“That’s all you have to say? Really?”

“...I don’t regret what I’ve done. I only wish your heart hadn’t gotten caught in the crossfire.”

A sudden spurt of confidence swept over him, and he took some steps closer. He knelt beside you, gently picking up your hand to lie over his heart. You still refused to meet him in the eye.

“Please listen to me. It has never been my mission to harm you. No matter what I’ve done to this island, you have always been the exception.”

“I don’t understand how you think this will bring me any comfort.”

“I know. It might not. I’m not looking for forgiveness. But my love for you is genuine. If there is anything I can do to assuage your pain—I could help you off the island, I could calm the tides—anything, I will do anything for you.”

All of a sudden, you felt like another veil had been lifted from over your eyes. Every one of his words had sounded contrived, but these especially so. These were the same promises he made that led to every islander’s disappearance.

As that realization dawned on you, you finally snapped around to face him. He looked miserable: his brows now knitting in sheer despair, his cheeks stained with streaks of gold. But he didn’t recoil, not even when faced with the look of betrayal twisting your features.

“I am not lying this time.” His hold tightened around your wrist in sync with another wave of tears. “Please. Please. Nothing in this world could entice me to harm you.”

“Stop it, you know exactly what you’re saying.” You tried to snatch your hand out of his grasp, but he fumbled not to let you go.

“Not you, never to you.” He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a desperate kiss against your knuckles. Caught off-guard, you jerked upright, your chair scraping backwards. You should’ve been the afflicted one here and yet the Swallow was the weeping mess in front of you.

“E-Enough! Let go of me! Why are you acting like this...?”

The Swallow, now looking at the ground, obeyed without question. Then his hands rose to cover his tearful eyes. Part of you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. He became nothing but an empty shell of the deity you revered only days ago.

He remained on the floor, mumbling to himself as you backed away towards the door.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect your heart. I know it’s too late to redeem myself... You will always be the light of my life regardless.”

His words were muddling with your head. Surely, you convinced yourself, these were empty confessions-- all the same words he used against everyone he tricked. You refused to let them affect you as well.

You laid a hand over the doorknob and squeezed your eyes shut. Then, against your better judgement, you spared him one final glance. He’d returned to the balcony, as if he was preparing to leave.

You stared into him one last time, combatting his wistful eyes with dogged anger.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I won’t torment you any longer.”

The next time you looked back at the balcony, all that was left was some scattered scraps and paper swallows. You never did see him again.

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Just for the Weekend 8/10

Summary: You and Jason go to a wedding.

Pairs: Reader x Jason Todd

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Fluff, swearing.

Part 7

Jason and yourself take your seats to the left of the makeshift altar. Your eyes sweep over the large garden adorned in even more flowers, twinkling lights and golden ribbons than you knew possible. The afternoon sun streams through the palm trees that Jamie and Sunny have chosen for their backdrop and as the western wind blows through you can almost feel the magic in the air. Weddings are always like this, you think, full of magic and love.

Jason's arm rests naturally around the back of your chair. Your brain is still going over the last few minutes, the kiss, the casual way he held your hand as you walked down to the garden. It's a lot to process, but you don’t want to ruin it by talking about it or over thinking. So instead you clasp your hands together and wish that the weekend would never end.

The chatter of the other guests quiets down as the celebrant announces that the bride will be arriving soon. Jamie spots you in the crowd, looking so happy in the dress they’ve chosen, the dark, deep forest green almost black against the sun, the crisp white shoes peeking from underneath. You give them a big thumbs up, noticing the tears already forming in their eyes as the pianist starts to play a slower version of "this is what dreams are made of".

The bridesmaids all look lovely in their soft lilac gowns of all different styles, the large sunflower bouquets with colourful wildflowers woven through, they look like a trail of beautiful fairies. The pianist rounds the chorus and you start to weep at the sight of Sunny. Her golden dress glitters with every step she takes, a large pointed tiara on her head, her hair held in soft waves behind her, she looks every bit the fairy queen of the procession. Peering back at Jamie you see they're full on crying at how etheral Sunny is.

"Here," Jason says, pulling out his pocket square and handing it to you, "don't want to ruin the makeup."

You give him a small smile, dabbing under your eyes and taking his hand in your free one, giving him a little squeeze, "Thanks for coming," you whisper.

Leaning over to press a kiss into your hair he whispers, "best decision of my life."

The ceremony is short, Jamie and Sunny exchange vows and suddenly they're walking down the aisle and inviting everyone to cocktail hour while they have their pictures taken.

"I'm just going to go touch up my face," you excuse yourself, "will you be ok by yourself?" finding yourself in need of a minute to compose yourself. You have so many questions for him, for yourself. At the very least you need to wipe the dopey ass smile from your face. You can’t seem to shake it, can’t stop hearing those words he whispered in your ear.

"Yeah, I'll go find Margie. She was great. Wait," he says as you start to walk off. "I forgot," he kisses you, a short simple peck on the lips but it makes your tummy do somersaults.

Jason spots Margie almost immediately, her bright pink suit giving her away almost as much as her height. She's at a table alone, drinking what looks to be sangria, "bit sad to drink alone at a wedding don't you think?" He asks, taking the seat opposite her.

"On the contrary, keeps me out of trouble." She smirks, downing the whole glass and pouring herself and Jason another. "Drink with me then, tell me about how you managed to sweep my little dear off her feet."

"I was actually wondering if I could ask you something," he takes a drink and relishes the sweetness.

"Want more stories about her rambunctious youth?"

"I would like to know what he, Jonathan, said to her last night,"

"Want to go hit him yourself?"

"Something like that,"

"No need for that, she defended you well."

"What?"

"She didn't tell you? Oh, he was saying terrible things, but our little spitfire wasn't having it."

"Wait what?" He can't seem to wrap his head around it. You hit…you hit the guy because of him?

"Poor dear, she lets him say the worst things about her, but the second he started on you," She pauses, "well you saw what happened."

"I thought she- that he-"

"She really loves you, ya know, I can see it in the way she looks at you."

"I- "

"You're very lucky, she's a special kind of woman."

"That I do know," he agrees, finally hearing something that doesn't sound insane. Why would you do that?

"Now be a good lad and go get me more sangria."

"Yes ma'am."

Jason's mind spins as he goes over what he just heard. So you did it to defend him and not yourself. He can barely believe that anyone would care, but then she said… was it true? Did you love him? Until yesterday you could barely stand to be in the room with him.

Then there was the kiss, that kiss on the balcony that made his stomach spin and his knees go weak. And the little kiss before, he can barely believe this is happening. He's not going to screw this up. He can't. Shit, after a few kisses he doesn't think he can go a day without feeling your lips on his ever again.

"Hello there handsome," you say, grabbing the glasses from the bar, "Margie already got you doing her evil bidding I see,"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" He answers, looking at you kind of weird, in a good way. Like he's got stars on his eyes.

"Sangria, always was her drink of choice."

Xxx

"Can you see my name?" You say as you peer at the seating chart.

"Yeah, right here. It says second prettiest woman at the wedding,"

"Second?"

"Well, the bride obviously has to be first," he jokes.

"Thin ice, Todd. You're on thin ice," you playfully glare at him. His hand falls to your lower back as you walk to your table. You try not to think about how right this feels, how perfect he feels beside you. Instead zoning in on the small table which is obviously designated as the old school friends table. You thank Batman that Jonathan was sent home, you do not want to deal with him.

"Can I ask a favour?" Claire says as she sits down next to you, "just while Lizzie is fixing her hair?"

"Depends on the favour," you can see Jason from the corner of your eye peering around you. Is he worried that maybe this will be round two? Sure, you were a bit envious, or a lot. But you had never felt the urge to hit her. The issues you have with Claire have nothing to do with her and everything to do with you and your own expectations.

"Could you sign this for me?" She pulls out from her purse a copy of your first book, "I've been meaning to ask for ages. But we just never seem to bump into each other."

"I didn't know you read my book,"

"I tried, but romance really isn't for me. Lizzie though, she loves them and it would really mean alot-"

"Give it here, have you got a pen?"

"Yeah," she hands you a golden marker from her purse, "I know it's not a great time to ask, but I really appreciate it. She’s going to be thrilled."

"It's really no trouble, " you smile signing the interior cover, "Dear Liz, I hope Claire brings you as much joy as Red brought me,"

"Thank you, she's really going to love this," she grins like a kid in a candy store. "It really means a lot,"

"You're welcome," you beam back. Never in a million years would you have imagined that Liz of all people would be a fan. She's never said anything, though you suppose with avoiding them at all costs you probably didn't deserve to know. A nudge on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, "yes?" You turn to Jason who's just looking at you with confusion and wonder, "why are you looking at me like that?”

"Red? I thought your first book was about Finnley and Felix? "

"How do you know that?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"I told you, I dabbled. I may have read one or two of your books, "

"One or two? But you know the names of the two love interests by heart?"

"Maybe, I read them more than once,"

"You did not,"

"Enough about me," Jason attempts to change the subject. You did not need to know that he had read all your works, except one apparently, "Who's this Red? And how is there a book before The Prince Problem?"

"Oh, that's the official first. But The Red Viper is my first unofficial book. I published it myself in college under a pseudonym. I just wanted to see how it would go. It sold pretty well, I just didn't think any of my friends aside from Jamie had read it."

"Then how did she know it was you?"

"Easy, I released free coupons for copies in my newsletter a few years ago, Liz must be on my mailing list.”

“Free?”

“Yeah, I do that sometimes. There’s no point charging for something like that."

"A huh, and has Dick read this book?"

"Jason, are you telling me you think Dick can read?"

"Good point,"

The night drifts on, speeches are told, cakes cut and dinner eaten. All the while Jason sits close, both of you touching, your knees, your hands, your shoulders, always touching. It's easy and it doesn't even feel fake anymore. Not that it ever really did to you.

The band picks up after the newlyweds first dance and the lead singer invites everyone to the dance floor. You feel reluctant, but with how pleasant the conversation has been between Claire, Liz, Jason and yourself, your mood has gone from nervous to joyful.

The band starts to play your favourite song and you find yourself tugging Jason onto the dance floor behind you.

He's certainly not his brother when it comes to dancing, but he manages to keep up with you. His hand never leaving your waist as you move to the music together. “What kind of move do you call that?” you ask when he starts twirling his arms around.

“Whirlybird?’ he laughs back, grabbing your arms and spinning them above your head, “Might not look cool, but it’s fun,”

His hands slide down your arms, taking your wrists and wrapping them around his neck as you stay to sway together.

“You know you’re a lot more fun,” you start when he spins you under his arm, “when you don’t spend your days glaring at me,”

“And you’re more fun when you don’t run away from every room I enter,”

“I never did that,” he stares down at you, “ok, maybe once or twice,” he raises his eyebrows, “Or a few times,” you press your hand on his chest, “in my defense, you did stare at me like I was robbing you.”

“You were,”

“I was not trying to steal your brother,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh love,” he brushes his nose against yours, “You were stealing something much more valuable than my big brother,”

“Oh yeah like what?” you tease, “Your bike?”

“Sweetheart,” he leans down, “You wouldn’t be fast enough to take her,” his breath in your ear, “And you still don’t know how to ride,”

“Fair. Maybe I can get Dick to teach me when I get home?” the choking noise that comes from Jason's throat makes you snort, “What? He’s been asking for ages,” you wink coyly, drawing yourself from his hands and giggling when he turns you back in.

“Let me teach you,” his hand slides up from your back, his fingers brushing up the back of your neck,

“You going to glare at me while you do it?”

“Only if you run away,”

“Will you chase me?”

“Would you like me to chase you?” his fingers push into the soft skin of your neck tilting your head up.

“Maybe,” you reach up onto your tiptoes, grinning from ear to ear, your lips touching his. His hand grows firmer on your neck, deepening your kiss, you wrap your arms tight around his back.

“That a shiver there love?” he laughs into your kiss, his other arm wraps around your waist, “Do it again,” he hoists you up, your feet dangling above the floor as he kisses you again.

The night gets later and despite how drunk everyone around you seems to be getting, you and Jason are too busy enjoying yourselves on the dance floor to have the time. "Last song," the singer announces, "how about something a bit slower?"

The band starts out slow and you hear the man's voice lower as he starts to sing Adele's make you feel my love.

Jason pulls you close, his hand holding tight on your waist, bringing yours up to his shoulder, "wanna see what Alfie taught me?" He winks and you give him a small nod, "follow my lead,"

He steps back, gliding you along the dance floor, his eyes never leaving yours and a bright smile on his lips. The hot and horny feelings leave you as you feel something deeper and stronger pulling at your chest. Like a string being tugged from your heart and wrapping around where your hands meet, connecting you both together. The world melts away as you get lost in his eyes and the feel of his strong hand on your back.

“Spin,” he says, stretching your arm out as the song reaches it crescendo and you spin out, your dress fanning out around you and when your back in his arms he drops you into a deep dip, his large hand on your thigh, his full form leaning over to meet your lips, his tongue dives into your mouth and you think you might just feel whole for the first time in your life.

Part 8:

AN: Last update for a bit. I'm off to Sydney to hang out with my fam.

Taglist:

@goblinhobo @bubbles-incorrect-yb @hungry-hungarian @megumisbabymomma @ilikw @gone-batty-fics

[allamericanb-tch]

crimson rivers thoughts (16)

@tastetherainbow290 this was genuinely terrifying to read

chapter 38

REGINALD 😭 marlene you menace

pocket sized sirius i love marlene

marlene telling james about dorcas 

mcgonagall is tatted i love that for her

huey just trying to be nice and then regulus just being regulus 😧

"Poor Huey is having a really bad night," 😭😭

"Yes. I recognize it, because I, too, have had intentions to get in your pants.” oh james

“shiny topics” is james a niffler 

jegulus

STOP TALKING ABOUT SWAPPING SPIT mono is making me bitter about this

🎶ooooooh shut up and dance with me🎶

barty mention

voldy 😧

dorcas pov <3

dumbledore mention booo

i’m scared for when the war starts

dorcas trying to keep marlene safe

🎶i almost doooooo🎶

“Yeah, but it's not like I want you any less when I'm sober." ahhhhhhh

oh no they’re fighting now

“Dorcas wants to give her the world. Dorcas can only give her nothing.” ok just break my heart then 

oh no what did voldy do

rip walburger and onion black

chapter 39

wow were just really jumping in here aren’t we

barty

“he wasn't even heartbroken the first time he stepped up and saw the flower from the previous day right where he'd left it” the first time… does this imply there are many flowers left

vanity 💔

cream cheese bagel this is so gardenofrunar coded (not tagging bc you haven’t read this far yet but if you do catch up and read this HI TWIN how does it feel being the cream cheese bagel moot)

sirius is so dramatic i love him

“"It's not a date," James and Regulus announce at the same time.” sureee it’s not

“Writing more sad boy poetry, no doubt,” 😭

james is down bad (crying at the gym everything’s coming up teenage petulance)

effie ❤️‍🩹

oh no the quarter memorial is the quarter quell 😧

don’t make them go back in the arena please 

“the door won't just magically open for him” (mere moments later) “The door proceeds to magically open”

james losing it when he finds out regulus is here 

everyone offering to make regulus a plate and every time he’s like “no i ate but thank you”

regulus being horny 💀

“Regulus can swim now”

they’re hugging ❤️‍🩹

wait did dumbledore kill grindelwald

oh no not catching fire

this is going to be devastating isn’t it

i knew it was coming and yet i was still surprised

chapter 40

“On Regulus' twenty-sixth birthday, James shows up at his door not with a flower, but with a hat.” eeeeee (don’t lure me into a false sense of security)

and now it’s sad

oh they’re kissing

baby

“on my fifteenth birthday, I wished on the sunrise that you would kiss me” no but james starting liking regulus when he was 15 ?!

hanky panky

"You'll always be my Reg” ❤️‍🩹

“Safe sex is important to Barty” you’re a real one, barty.

james keeping sirius updated on him and regulus 😭

BROTHER FUCKER 😭 sirius is a menace and james eats it up

we’re getting the rules for volunteering 

im so scared right now

REGULUS 

sirius volunteering 💔

REGULUS VOLUNTEERING?!

baby

i’m going to cry there are tears in my eyes right now

the mayor is aberforth?!

effie no ☹️ zar don’t do this to me please

“Sirius stands there in the arms of the parents he's only ever truly known, and he weeps.”

🎶this is the last time i’m asking you this🎶

sirius calling effie mum ❤️‍🩹

andromeda <3

dora ☹️

“they’re ruined too” 💔

regulus and sirius are liars but i guess that just comes with being a black

no this is so sad things were just getting good for them

zar why would you write this

“james "sit down" potter and regulus "im sat" black” i love the end notes but this does NOT make up for what you did

[thistlethimble]

location: district 8 date: the reaping

I grieve to sew up my heart's delight. heigh ho says thimble.

district 8 was packed to the brim with each inhabitant of the textile focused urban infrastructure. as usual, the stage was set up in the main square of town just in front of the government buildings. while surrounding that and reaching well into the sky were the nicer factories. the wealthy and well-statused families were grouped and seated nearer the stage. the less fortunate had a much longer walk, and those of little cove could barely even see the large bowls of names from where they sat on the very outskirts.

thimble still felt uneasy. it was the first year that reaper blue, her older brother, had aged out of the process, thankfully, so she sat on their bench alone. well, not alone alone; there were all the other lucky lottery participants, but it felt absolutely isolated.

the night before, thimble accidentally pricked herself on a needle while sewing her reaping dress. the blood quickly welled up on the tip of her finger and stained the white linen fabric. that felt like a bad sign. reaper noticed too. he and clementine rose, their eldest sister, always spent the night before the reaping in the same room. soft carpets were rolled out in padded stacks across their grandmother's floor and pillows were littered in the corner. one messy stack of blankets contrasted sharply against the ones perfectly folded next to them.

clem was already tucked beneath those folded blankets and attempting to get some rest, but reaper noticed and frowned. thimble hadn't done that in years. he hopped up to get her a bandage and suggest that maybe she wear one of her dresses that were already done. there was no chance of that happening. thimble loathed to repeat a style, especially not on a day like this.

"I'll make it work. it is still fixable!"

he crossed the room and sank down next to her to tend to the minor wound. it seemed like there was a lot that he wanted to say, but for maybe the first time, could not find the words. he opened his mouth, but thimble interrupted him. "sing the song for me." she suggested instead. reaper obliged. he began to sing a ballad about falling stars while she stitched a big, red rose blooming from the stain on the corset of her gown. he sang until thimble herself tumbled into the mess of blankets all tuckered out, and the morning it appeared he had the words.

"thim." his voice had always been a pleasant tenor and warmth as winter breakfast. "listen. just save the one in a million for your dresses, right? I love you." he pressed a kiss onto her forehead. clementine brushed her hair out and arranged it with a flower before they went down the two levels to meet their parents and walk together towards the reaping. thankfully, their grandma was elderly enough now that she was no longer forced to witness this sort of sight.

it took forever for them to bumble through the first drawing. yet, the second happened so terribly suddenly.

the mic feedback whistled. 'THIMBLE VIRIDIAN RENALDI' oh. her brother cried out before thimble even realized what was happening. she looked over her shoulder to catch reaper doubled over and clem allowing silent tears to slide down her cheeks. thimble stood up. thousands of faces turned to look at her now, but every sound disappeared behind blood rushing in her ears. if thimble looked at her family again, she would weep. she couldn't cry now. the game had already begun. thimble tried to swallow which was entirely useless as her mouth was dry.

in a few steps, thimble made it out of the benched seating to the runway that lead up to the stage. it was a long walk. good. that would give her some time to calm down and think. no one was going to volunteer for her so how did she survive this? could she? could thimble win? yes. they could. it wouldn't be easy. there was no way the playing field would be even, but had it ever been? didn't she already play those odds? hell, it may not be worth it, but shouldn't she try?

as her pace remained steady, people began to whisper through the crowd. the cameras panned and pulled to see her full gown. style was always a statement. thimble, by happenstance or fate, was making a loud one. her dress made it appear as though blood were already pooling at her rib cage; stabbed in the gut as she had been by her name being called. it was appropriate. it told a story. a story that could help her. thimble took the stage, found the camera, and offered a knowingly empathetic smile.

this could work.

it had to.

[invisibleraven]

"You're not a waste of space" + "I think you're awesome" for Rulie?

The last thing Reggie registers is Julie, floating above him in the volcra's grip, her face terrified, and then a burst of white light, and then nothing.

He wakes up some time later to a grizzled medic sewing him up with no idea what happened, or where Julie is. He staggers away, towards the general's tent hoping and praying for answers that no one seems to want to give.

Only Julie is there, the general's hand on her shoulder, and she's glowing with pure sunlight in direct contrast to the man beside her, dressed in pitch black and smirking at her with his icy blue eyes. Whispers fill the tent of 'Sun Summoner' and when Reggie catches Julie's eye, he knows that nothing will ever be the same.

No more will they run through their meadow, avoiding lessons and chores to find flowers and rabbits. No more drinking kvas under the stars as they joke about the Grisha orders-because Julie is one of them now.

Probably the most powerful one of all.

And it stings that she never told him. So Reggie stalks away, not knowing that seeing Julie in that tent was the last time he would lay eyes on her for some months.

He hears she's been taken to the Little Palace, training to use her powers while he stays behind with his regiment, fighting the king's useless, never ending war. He sends her letters every week, but she never writes back, and he grows despondent.

Then there's a mission-track down the mythical stag wanted by the dark general, and get to visit the palace. Reggie immediately volunteers, any chance that he can see Julie, he'll take. He's the best tracker there is, so if anyone was going to find a creature of legend, it should be him.

He writes Julie one last letter, telling her his feelings, calling her his true north, and seals it with a kiss. Even if she laughs as she reads it, he prays she still gets to see his words.

Only the stag isn't a myth, and he finds it just beyond the borders. Barely makes it out alive, and staggers back to the camp with the position memorized. Makes his way to the capital, Julie's name beating in his heart. He has no idea why the stag is needed, but he vows that if Julie needs it, he'll get it for her.

Only, no one will let him see her, and a very rude guard attempts to take him out. He runs, and finds himself outside the palace walls once more. He gets word the next day that Julis is missing, though it's only whispers, and decides that if he can find a mythical stag, he can find her.

Tracks her down to the woods, and she looks overjoyed to see him, flinging herself into his arms, and Reggie nearly weeps with how good it is to hold her once more. Throws his army issued jacket over her shivering form as she tells him why she ran-a power hungry general, a plot to take over the country or take her life-Reggie screws up his face at it all.

"I'll keep you safe," he vows. "I may be a waste of space compared to a living saint such as you-" she screws up her face at that, hating that the people are calling her Sankta Julianna and that sshe is powerless to keep their hopes alive against the dark general.

"You're not a waste of space," she says. "Even if you never wrote me back."

"I wrote to you almost every day," Reggie replies, deadly serious.

"I-I never got a single letter," Julie says. "And I assume neither did you."

Reggie shakes his head in response. "No. Every day I lived in hope at mail call only to be crushed once more when there was nothing for me."

"But you still came for me," Julie says, sounding hopeful.

"Of course I did. Letters or not, saint or orphan-I think you're amazing Julie."

She throws herself at him again, this time catching his mouth with her own. This kiss is hard and off centre, but Reggie gentles it, and licks into her mouth, making them both whimper. They kiss and kiss and kiss, making up for every letter they never got that was filled with confessed love, with longing and loneliness.

And the whole time?

Julie glows.

[starburstgalexies]

Falling, Fallen

Short, fluffy aether/heizou relationship study because I was too normal about them yesterday.

ao3 link or you can simply read more below. Rated M, 1786w.

“I love you.” 

It’s nonchalant, muttered into the back of Heizou’s neck like an exhale. Fitting, because it comes as natural as breathing. Clearly not planned, not up to the very moment it was out. 

Heizou’s heart stops in his chest regardless. 

Because none of that changes the fact that this is the first time Aether said it. 

Of course, Aether is a man of action, and Heizou is nothing if not observant. He’s already read ‘I love you’ in every touch, every kiss, every moment spent together on one of Heizou’s projects instead of reforming a nation, looking for a lost twin, or whatever the ‘legendary traveler’ has on his plate at the time. In theory, Heizou should not have been affected beyond yet another truth he’s inferred being acknowledged. 

In theory. 

In actuality, his breath gets caught in his lungs, and he goes stiff in Aether’s arms. 

Even then, Aether doesn’t appear to be worried. Heizou can’t see his face, but he reads patience in the way Aether’s forearms squeeze around his waist. Assurance in the way Aether further buries himself in the crook of his neck. Not a trace of vexation or concern, however.

Why would there be? The very first reason that Heizou fell in love with Aether is that he is observant enough to keep pace. He does not exactly have the same process, Heizou can tell from watching how Aether’s mind works, but he is nevertheless sharp and perceptive. He should already know that Heizou is absolutely smitten with him. It should be clear as day with how Heizou introduces him as his partner when he is notorious for not accepting any. How he trusts him with his deepest secrets, be it about a cold case or simply his past. How he keeps coming back to him - even when he desperately wants to stay away, because he knows he can never be the only one for Aether, and sometimes it is too much. 

Heizou loves him way too much. 

That’s why he is struck by a simple spoken fact. It matters little that he knows Aether loves him - the sound of it erupts in his ribcage like a flower that waited too long to bloom in the spring and burst in the summer. Even the way it is spoken solidifies that fact - casual, like Aether has said it hundreds of times before. Natural. Real.  

Lips brush against his cheek, a little too close to his eyes than usual, and that’s when he realizes-

“I did not think this was such dreadful news,” Aether jokes into his ear, melody subdued yet still evident in the lower volume of his voice. He continues kissing Heizou’s face like he intends to clear his tears with his lips, and Heizou makes a feeble attempt to push him away. Nevermind his laughter giving away his indisposition to actually stop Aether. 

“I simply feel bad for everyone else,” Heizou says, slurring with intentional nonchalance. “The abolisher of the vision hunt decree, the golden traveler desired by all… lovestruck by little old me.” 

“My, I didn’t realize you were so compassionate for others, doushin,” Aether teases. “Do you wish to set up a charity? Five minutes of some traveler’s love, courtesy of the Tenryou Commission’s own prodigal detective?”

This should be a sore subject. They should not be joking about this. Somehow, the jealousy it ignites in Heizou’s veins is no longer destructive, burning everything in its path - it’s oddly comforting, and dare Heizou say, fun. He is always going to be at least a little possessive, but now, there is acceptance that comes with it, and with it, respect. 

“Not compassionate enough, I’m afraid.” Humming, Heizou wiggles out of Aether’s hold until he can turn around and climb on his lap, knees at either side of the traveler’s hips. He cradles Aether’s face with both of his hands, and Aether leans into the touch. “I would keep you all to myself if I could, watch the world weep with you in my arms.” 

Aether doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t seem disturbed, either. He simply looks up to Heizou, a small, patient smile on his lips. 

The Traveler may have many lovers, and he may not love Heizou the way he loves them - but he will not love any of them the way he loves Heizou, either. 

His vindication is in knowing Aether also loves Heizou way too much. 

“Alas, I am but a humble detective,” Heizou whispers, smiling back at Aether’s amused smirk at the blatantly false adjective. “Who am I to stake claim on the hero of Teyvat?” 

“Only the cyclone that strikes fear in the heart of crooks all over Inazuma,” Aether retorts with a lazy ease. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Traveler.” 

“As long as it’s with you, detective.” 

Heizou’s heart flutters at the assertion. Is that not what anyone should want to be for a wanderer? Not someone that anchors them to the ground, but a companion they wish to keep around and share experience with. He has no reason to doubt the sincerity of that little remark, either. Despite the flirty back-and-forth their conversations tend to devolve into, Aether is not one to say things for the sake of having said them - he either speaks the truth or speaks not at all. 

It is only fair if Heizou returns the favor. 

“I love you,” he says, watching Aether’s eyes widen, lips parted with a short gasp. Heizou allows himself to appreciate the sight for a moment, to observe the surprise fading to be replaced by a softness clouding the traveler’s gaze, before circling his arms around Aether’s shoulders and dipping down for a kiss. 

Aether, as usual, is perfectly responsive - rarely initiating, but always retaliating at full force. He spreads his palm on the small of Heizou’s back, and slowly drags it up his spine, sending jolts through the thin fabric of his shirt. Heizou runs a hand through Aether’s hair, pulling at his scalp until some of the long strands start breaking free from Aether’s braid, which has the traveler huff into Heizou’s lips in frustration. Heizou simply laughs, a small, silent thing, a secret buried in the breath flowing between one another, before he kisses him again. It’s not apologetic, but from the way Aether presses further into his space, it clearly gets him forgiven, and Heizou keeps messing up Aether’s hairdo without undoing the whole thing with dignity. 

He doesn’t realize Aether’s insistence has him gradually pushed down until his back hits the mattress. Aether catches himself in time, first a hand and then an elbow next to Heizou’s ear. With the traveler hovering over him like this, Heizou can see the number he’s done on him: lips already swollen, eyes hooded yet teary, long hair sticking out everywhere, and braid a bit loose with all the volume it has lost. 

“My, my, traveler,” Heizou teases, raising his fingers so that he can trace Aether’s swollen lips. “How sentimental, getting worked up over a mere confession like that.” 

“It is no mere confession,” Aether responds, frowning, but he just can’t convey indignance. Not right now. 

“You started it.” 

“I didn’t expect you to return it.” 

“That’s a pitiful shortcoming on your part, my dear partner.” Heizou exaggerates a sigh. “I am almost disappointed.” 

“Well…” Aether breathes out, long and dare Heizou say, concerning, before he meets Heizou’s eyes again. “I suppose I didn’t have a certain detective around to keep me on my toes.” 

Heizou gulps. “Oh, Aether…” 

“Just… don’t tell me to stay away from you again. Please.” 

After everything, Heizou still can’t tell Aether that mere sight of him was enough to have him regret the break-up immediately. That he selfishly held onto the grudge, because he prided himself on it. That even when he found Aether unconscious in the Test of Courage, he was stubborn, until working together again broke Heizou’s strategically constructed dams one after another. 

Until he realized sharing him is, always, the better alternative than losing him. 

“I love you,” Heizou says again, instead, and revels in the way Aether leans down on him, stray blond strands falling on his face like a golden curtain. And he kisses him, slow and tender, yet exploring deeper the more he presses down Heizou’s body with his own. 

Clothes are discarded - not all of them, they have so many accessories and so little patience, but Heizou unclasps Aether’s cape who in turn gets rid of Heizou’s shirt, barely ridding themselves of pants before meeting each other again. Calling it not sex but making love is extremely cheesy, but man alive, there is a distinction. Heizou has been around the block quite a few times, whether it’s to relieve some stress or go the distance with an attractive stranger that guards precious information. Still, sex is always the best when love is a factor, even when uglier emotions are involved. Anger? Jealousy? Betrayal? As long as love is there, tainted it might be, intimacy beats the best of casual sex.

Perhaps Heizou is more of a romantic than he likes to pretend. 

Oh, well. What are you gonna do?

He throws his head back and chants Aether’s name like a prayer - hell, it’s not like he’s ever cared much about archons, anyway. As his neck arches, Aether catches his choker with a finger, biting down at the sensitive skin that blends into his shoulder because apparently Heizou isn’t being loud enough for him.

Heizou takes his revenge by rolling both of them out of the bed with one swift move. His family probably didn’t intend him to use their clan’s martial art prowess for such matters but tough luck. As he rides Aether out of his mind, he shoves his digits into the traveler’s mouth, just to add to the mess beneath him - just because he can. 

No one else can have this. No one can have him like this. Something similar, yes, obviously, quite often in fact - but it will never be the same. The love Aether has for Heizou is only for Heizou. 

“Say it again,” he commands, breathless - only for Aether to make an incoherent noise around his fingers, and despite himself, Heizou snorts. 

Aether chokes, something akin to a laugh. Heizou pulls his hand away, chuckling along. Maybe he’s ruined the mood a little. So what? This is what they do. Flirt a little, fuck a little, laugh a little. Repeat, a little differently, but with certainty.

That’s what makes it special. 

“You’re free,” Heizou manages, gagged around the amusement and his edging orgasm. “So say it again, now.” 

“I love you.” 

And that’s all he needs from his beloved partner. 

[somehowmags]

HAHA i guess i haven't seen enough bad takes from the fandom about leona (albeit i definitely have seen some) so i get the impression that vil is mischaracterized more often on average. regardless, ive also seen a lot of fanfic characterizing vil as this emotionally constipated and constantly nagging narcissist who is incapable of showing affection and it makes me [rat clenches fist of rage]. im aware angst often draw out the worst part of a character for the feels, which in this case is vil's strict scrutiny BUT PLELALSLELADE IM SCREAMING MY TEARS ARE ON THE FLOOR.... how are you gonna ignore the scene in chapter 6 where vil literally moves past his stern housewarden persona in order to be vil schoenheit. not the actor, not the model, not the housewarden countless students look towards as a leader-- but vil schoenheit, friend of yours and ally. all to give epel, rook, and yoy; his beloved poison apple, his beloved hunter, and his beloved prefect, a hug and kiss.?? like. kuekd emfusjbfe.??? when he literally squeals for joy after getting his youth back from malleus? when he weeps as an old man? vil schoenheit IS an emotional person! he's an actor with responsibilities on his back, he's not gonna let others see him be anything but strict when the time isn't right! but the point is that he knows when to be soft and loving ESPECIALLY after his overblot!!! 3!&!$!!$!#! he cares so deeply for each and everyone of his pomefiore students and especially those closest to him-- his method of expressing his affection isn't just limited to the occasional praise or hug and kiss, he genuinely wants the best for you when he cares and he'll support you/offer help in achieving your best self! it's not just a byproduct of his need for perfection, but to love is to grow and change and metamorphosize from the flower to the succulent apple and he can see your potential. for the man who knows what it's like to never be enough, he knows you're more than. if only you try. if only you grasped your dreams with your bare hands because god does he dream of it for you. my point is that vil is genuinely one of the most loving characters, even if his ways aren't the most conventional or he may seem harsh. he's not heartless-- though im aware his reaction towards epels moment of emotional vulnerability in the vdc rehearsal gives off said impression, he's grown and changed. i doubt current vil would be so uncaring and stern still if you expressed hurt or discomfort over an austere sentiment he's said or done. if he knows it's what you need, he probably would take a softer and kinder approach. the same water that hardens the egg, softens the potato. he can learn, or perhaps he already understands that some people reach their potential differently-- especially as someone who has lived in the entertainment industry his whole lived, he may be accustomed to the unforgiving nature of its expectations BUT HES NOT ANYMORE!!! and he knows others lead a normal life outside of it, so the same approach taken to him likely wouldn't be suited for them! he won't ever stop trying to suggest betterments for your health, appearance, and outfits but if you express different sentiments he wouldn't take to forcing them onto you!! he just wants you to live your best life, because from what he knows, it brings you gratification and he WANTS you to succeed and be satisfied! im sorry i have a lot to feel about him, i just really despise seeing people overlook the caring trait of his in favor of cheap angst. for someone who has rook as his favorite i really cannot shut my zest fest mouth up about vil <|:-( love his ass

- same anon raving about vil from earlier pt.2 except im more insane

god yeah this is so true....i think about him cheering and crying after malleus restored his youth literally every day of my life he sounds so happy and relieved!!!! had to replay the scene of him kissing rook and epel and yuu like twice to process everything bc i was so !!! at him showing emotion it was so. and like him crying as an old man is mostly played for laughs but it's also so. holy shit. (also the fact that he isn't crying because he's "ugly" but because he wanted more time to play young roles before he started doing older ones.) he's so much more open and emotional in book 6 it's like he's realized he can stop being "the fairest of them all" and just start being vil. like the ice has melted!!! he's so endearing i have gotta hit him with a 2003 toyota corolla

also no this is in character for someone whose fave is rook. this is rook behavior alksjddfhalksjfhlkasdfh he would definitely be on magicam defending vil with his LIFE

[babymomma06]

☆A Star☆

☆Chapter I☆

The singing of the wind blew through her dark hair. She threw her feet back and forth over the ledge. Lifting her chin slightly, she closed her eyes and took in the smell of the flowers. The flowers of those who passed her. Picking up the flowers by their stem; throwing each one in. It wasn’t long before until she was the last one to engage with nature. No weep of cry. No shock. No hesitation. She wanted this… but unfortunately for her she didn’t get it, again.

It felt as if she could still feel in the water. It wasn’t the water that she was feeling; they were tears. But those weren’t her tears. They belonged to someone else. And as ice cold as the water was, she felt so warm. They were hands. No! A body. Could someone may have followed her in? If so, who? Who was the person that risked their life to save her? There was someone out there who cared for her that much? If so, why didn’t they meet up with her a long time ago? We’re they hiding? But why?

“Why haven’t you come to me before? Why wait? Why now?”

“I-I’m sorry. Please…please for give me.”

“Forgive you? You come when I try to leave. Have you not noticed me before? Why are you only just noticing me now?”

“I’ve noticed you. I’ve always noticed you. You just never noticed me.”

“What do you mean? Who are you?”

“Me? Well, I’m your friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yes…a true and honest friend. And you…are you my friend?”

A friend, they say. Is he a friend to her, he asks. Truthful and honest. Tell me, what is a friend?

The screams of a woman. And the cries of her husband. The stabbing and throbbing pain pulsing through her veins. There it was… a new life ready to come out and play. Oh wait…but there is another shock as her head begins to throb. The cries and moans of a mom and her son but of course we can’t forget about the other one. The cries weren’t helping as though he wiped the droplets of sweat from his wife’s head. He looked her in her eyes and mouthed an ‘I love you’. She smiled weakly and pushed the little one out but there was silence. She looked up in confusion not understanding the low breaths from her second new born. Watching the nurses rushing around in panic made her blood run cold. She suddenly began to cry and begged wanting to hold her near unborn. Even the silence of her husband wasn’t working for her in such a crazy storm.

She turned to her new born son and let a tear fall before shutting her eyes. Suddenly that baby began to cry. The husband felt guilty. How could he? To his beautiful wife. How could he? She was the love of his life. No matter how many women begged and fawned for him, it was only her. It was always her and it will always be her. But no matter how many times he said that to himself he still did it anyways. ‘Ruthless’, he would say. Immature! Idiotic! A let off! A man full of shit! A whore!

He looked up from his hands and stared at his wife. She rocked back and forth in her chair humming a tune that the two will never forget. She smiled down at her adorable and healthy set of twins. Her smiled faded once looking at the ring set on the coffee table. “How long?”

“Not long.”

“Not long?”

“No.” He replied while shaking his head.

“Who is she?”

“Someone who isn’t and never was important.” He kneeled down to her and set a hand on hers. “Someone who I will never set foot to again.”

“I carried your children. I let you in my own home. I loved you.”

“And you still love me, right?”

“How could you ask me that after what you’ve just done to me?”

“I know, I know but..but you still love me, right?” The pause made him anxious. He knew he didn’t have the right to ask her such a thing after committing a silent sin, but he needed her. He loves her too much to have to her leave him. He is just a big idiot who makes dumb decisions. “Honey-“ she stood up, gazing down at her two little ones.

“I’m going to put them to bed and then we can talk.”

“Alright.” He says while standing up right after her. He kissed her gently on her temple.