#sure would love to be able to take a day off laxatives

[vigilantejustice]

disordered eating content in the tags skip it if it’s no bueno :-)

[goosita]

young!politician!snow enjoys making you squirm, knowing how easy it is to get reactions out of you

it’s so easy for him to throw you off balance, to surprise you at every turn. ever since the night he drove you home, with his hand resting so warm and heavy on your thigh, you’ve barely been able to focus at work. every time your mind starts to wander, it ends up settling and fixating on the same thing; him.

you wonder if he can sense it, if he can feel your eyes trailing over every inch of him when he breezes out of his office for another coffee break. your gaze lingers on his broad shoulders when his back is turned, or on his pretty profile when he’s looking the other way. you try not to let it be obvious, politely averting your eyes when he spins to face you again or return to his office.

it’s been several days since the night you let him drop you off at your apartment, and coriolanus takes up about 98% of your thoughts. he’s on his third cup of black coffee for the day when he pauses and turns to face you, speaking up.

“do you have plans for this evening, miss y/n?” he asks, smiling kindly at you. you’re not sure what to say, caught off guard by his question.

“nothing other than melting into my couch with a book, sir,” you answer honestly. your heart kicks up in pace at his question, wondering why he’d want to know.

“well, you do now.”

you blink and furrow your brows, looking at him unsure. you can tell he’s a little frazzled today, hair slightly out of place from running his hand through it several times. he takes a long sip of his coffee and sighs.

“i have to go to a gala tonight, something they only just told me now at the last minute,” he explains, looking down into his cup. “of course, i’ll need a date.”

you stare at him, not sure if the world is playing some sick joke on you or not. coriolanus lifts his eyes and stares right back at you, waiting for you to say something.

“…..me?”

it comes out as a pathetic squeak, but he doesn’t point it out. he simply nods, icy gazs still boring into you while you scramble for an answer.

“uhm. y-yeah, yeah okay,” you stutter, feeling small under his stare. he gives you an easy smile then, his whole demeanor seemingly going more lax.

“excellent. finish whatever you’re working on and log off for the day, we have time find you a dress.”

dress shopping with coriolanus snow is something you never thought would ever happen, yet here you are. he had slid you into your coat at the door after you’d logged off your computer, whisking you down to his car which he again drove himself. as you’d opened your mouth to say you didn’t really have money for a new dress, he’d cut you off easily, telling you that if he was the one to drag you to this gala, the least he could do was pay for your outfit.

now, you stood in front of a wall of mirrors in a green silk gown that hugged your body in all of the right ways. it fell to the floor, but bared your shoulders and arms. coriolanus walked in a slow circle around you, scanning every inch of your body carefully. he stopped then and nodded at one of the fitting room attendants, who brought him a black velvet box. inside, a white diamond necklace sat with a single, small pendant. a snowflake.

you tried as hard as you could not to shiver when coriolanus stepped behind you, carefully moving your hair to clasp the necklace around your throat. you could feel his breath on the back of your neck and you kept your eyes down, almost afraid to catch his gaze in the mirror.

“beautiful,” he whispered, so soft that you were certain that you were the only person who heard it. his fingertips slowly trailed down your spine and it was impossible not to shudder.

“look at yourself,” he said quietly, reaching around to your front, lifting your chin. you looked over your reflection, tilting your head to the side. he was right; the dress was absolutely stunning, the pendant resting on your sternum sparkly but understated, tasteful.

“its lovely, coryo,” you said, finally meeting his eyes in the mirror. his plush lips stretched into a dazzling smile, clearly pleased at your use of his nickname.

“yes, you are.”

you didn’t notice as the fitting room attendants all exited, leaving you alone with coriolanus in the secluded dressing room. his hand traveled down from your chin to your shoulder, fingertips brushing down your arm before taking your own hand in his. he smiled again and led you over to a seat, gesturing for you to sit.

coriolanus grabbed a box and lifted it open, revealing a pair of silver heels that looked more expensive than a year’s worth of your rent. and then, he did something you would never imagine.

coriolanus snow kneeled before you.

you stopped yourself from inhaling sharply at the surprise, at the image of who everyone knew to be the eventual future president of Panem, dropping to his knees at your feet. he carefully lifted the hem of your dress, just enough to wrap a hand around your ankle and place your foot in his lap. then, he picked up one shoe and slit it on, taking extra care to clasp the strap around your ankle. his eyes lifted to yours, gazing up at you almost reverently as he stroked over the bone on the inside of your ankle. he held your stare for a long moment before repeating the action on your other foot.

“coriola—“

he cut you off as he rose to his feet again, taking your hand and pulling you up.

“do they fit alright?” he asked, breaking the intimate bubble he had created a moment ago. you nodded, swallowing hard.

“yes,” you breathed, searching his eyes curiously. what was he playing at here? what was he thinking?

“perfect. i suspect it’ll be a lovely evening, hm?”

[fandomfucker]

Judgement Day x reader Where the reader is an absolute cuddle bug, but is afraid they might be too clingy. So Judgement Day assure them that they love how cuddly they are?

Word Count: 2,053

Reader's POV

Ever since I was a child, I was extremely touchy. I always felt the need to be not only emotionally close to all my friends and family but also physically close.

I would hug each of my friends at least twice a day, along with my teachers and parents and my usually unwilling siblings.

I was able to calm down a bit by the time I got to middle school, restraining myself from hugging just my family members and my friends who were used to it by now. High fives and wrapped arms around shoulders and waists became a norm for anyone interacting with me.

In high school, I had better learned to keep my hands to myself, only occasionally hugging my friends. But, my friend group was also a bunch of pretty touchy people so sitting next to each other with our legs touching, or laying down with our head in the lap of the other while they finger-brushed our hair was a norm for us within our friend group.

I had accepted long ago that my love language was touch but that it wasn't for everyone. One potential partner in high school even broke things off because of how touchy I am. They said it was suffocating and just 'way too much'.

Touchiness has never been an issue with my four wonderful partners now, though. Rhea, Dominik, Damian, and Finn all seemed to appreciate my touches and would even go out of their way to be closer to me sometimes.

And I love and appreciate them all for it.

My partners are all very aware of my need for touch. So, on days when I get home from work, both physically and mentally exhausted, they'll center me a a big group hug until I feel better.

When I wake up in the morning, Dominik smothers me in hugs and kisses, usually ending in hours-long cuddles until we're forced to move.

Damian often has me sit in his lap, no matter where we are. A party, backstage at a WWE show, or just hanging out in the living room of our house.

Whenever I had a particularly bad day Finn would shower me with affection, figuratively and literally. He would help me take a shower, giving me small kisses on my shoulders all the while, before giving my shoulders a massage in our bedroom.

Rhea was surprisingly the most touchy out of all my partners. She constantly had to have a hand on my waist, shoulder, arm, thigh, you name it she was touching it. She's very protective and always had to make sure that not only was she giving me what I needed, but also making sure everyone else knew I was hers as well.

The doubts didn't start until about six months into our five-way relationship when I had been at home on the couch scrolling through social media while the four of them were at Monday Night RAW.

My for you page had decided to randomly show me a video of someone who had compiled a bunch of videos and pictures of me with my partners. They had all zoomed in on my partners' faces whenever I specifically was touching them and not the other way around. The person who made the video was saying "Look at how uncomfortable the Judgment Day looks. Y/n needs to stop fucking touching them and leave them alone."

The video instilled a spark of fear in me as I read all the comments agreeing with the original poster and for the next three hours I went down a rabbit hole of TikTok videos through the search from the original video; "Y/n Y/l/n being clingy".

There were at least a hundred different TikTok videos talking about it, with tons of comments throughout. I found videos so long that they had to post them on YouTube in which what they said about me was even worse because guidelines are a bit more lax.

For those three hours until my partners got home, I watched all the mean videos, read all the mean comments, saw all the mean posts, tweets, edits, etc, and sobbed as I realized that my partners probably were just doing it all because I wanted to and that they actually just hated me.

A little after midnight I heard the garage door open and Rhea's truck as they pulled into the driveway. I threw my blanket off my lap and sprinted up the stairs to our master bath. I needed to make it look like I hadn't been crying the entire time so I threw myself into the shower, making the water as hot as possible.

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day walked through the door, into the house doing their best to stay quiet as with all the lights off they figured their partner was probably already asleep.

Hearing a noise coming from the living room, Dominik curiously made his way towards the couch, beginning to move around blankets and pillows.

Y/n's phone fell out of a blanket and bounced onto the thick carpet floor, it's face glowing up at the ceiling as a TikTok video played on a loop.

Hearing the clunk from the phone hitting the floor, Dominik tossed the blanket he was holding back onto the couch before bending down to grab the phone.

Mention of The Judgment Day along with Y/n's name made Dominik pause, focusing on the video playing. 

"I mean, just look at their body language whenever Y/n touches them. They all always just look so uncomfortable."

Dominik watched in disbelief, as he beckoned the other Judgment Day members over to him. The group has always been pretty out about their relationship and some of them about their sexualities so haters were a norm but it was beginning to cross a line by hating their partner, who wasn't in the spotlight at all.

He beckoned the other three JD members over as the video began to play from the beginning again, holding the phone out for them all to watch.

They all watched the video in concern, Damian took the phone out of Dom's hands once it was over and began to backtrack, looking at what had previously been watched before that video.

There were several more videos about this particular topic at hand which the four of them scrolled through with growing disgust.

After several minutes of this, Rhea had a thought. "Where's Y/n?" She asked the group in a small panic.

They all looked at each other in concern before Rhea bolted up the stairs, yelling their partner's name, the boys quickly following suit.

Reader's POV

I was still in the shower about ten minutes after I had heard the garage door open and my partners come in when I began to hear Rhea screaming my name as four sets of footsteps thudded up the stairs, becoming louder as they got closer to the bathroom.

Banging soon began against the door as they all reached it. I heard each of my partners distressedly shouting my name, Rhea, however, being the loudest.

I turned the water off in a rush, wrapped my towel around myself, and got out of the shower. I fumbled with the lock, unlocking it before swinging the door open in a rush. I was met with the four panicky faces of my partners.

"What's going on, is everything okay?" I asked, genuinely confused.

Rhea rushed forward, pulling me into a tight hug. My face was squished into her chest (not that I'm complaining) and was squished even further when my other three partners came around to join the group hug.

"Guys?" I asked nervously, tilting my head up and resting my chin on Rhea's collarbone so that I could see all of their faces above me.

Finn spoke aloud for the group from my left, "Love, you left your phone open downstairs. We saw what you were looking at."

The blood would have drained from my face had it not all rushed there as the tears began to fall again.

I dropped my chin off of Rhea's chest and covered my face with my hands, the top of my head now resting against her chest instead. The four of them hugged me tighter in attempted comfort which only made me feel worse.

They hated me hugging them and just generally being all over them all the time and were now hugging me to make me feel better.

"I-I'm sorry. P-please don't be m-mad," I managed to get out through the massive sobs. I began trying to push away, out of the hug barricade they'd created around me but I wasn't able to turn around very well with how tight it was, and Rhea's way too strong to move when she doesn't want to be moved.

"We're not mad, Princesa," Damian spoke gently from behind me. That just made me cry even harder.

I was crying so hard that I was struggling to breathe. My four partners kept me close and I could feel someone stroking my hair before someone gripped my hips and turned my body to face them. 

I dropped my hands from my face to my partner's waist, realizing who it was.

Looking up, my wet, red-rimmed, eyes were met with Dominik's wide brown ones. "Hey, hey." He shushed me softly. "Those videos are fake, mi amore. Okay? We all love how touchy you are. We love your hugs and kisses and all your little touches. If we didn't we wouldn't reciprocate them."

My sobs turned to sniffles at his sweet words. He gave me a small smile as he brought a hand up to my cheek, wiping away any remaining tears from my face with his thumb. 

I closed my eyes in acceptance, another tear or two slipping out at the action which Dominik was quick to swipe away. "We mean it, Cariño," Damian spoke up again, now on my right. "We love you and your cuddliness," He reassured me, his lips kept close against my hair as he gently pried me away from Dominik and tucked me into him.

"Promise?" I questioned faintly. It was directed generally towards all four of them.

I felt Rhea's hands snake around my waist, gently swaying me towards her a bit, "We promise. We love you so much and nothing and nobody will ever change that." She gave my temple a lingering kiss, squeezing my waist before turning me towards Finn.

"Don't listen to those morons on social media, love. We're just constantly uncomfortable on camera, especially around you just because we're worried about you. There's a lot of people and a lot going on and it can get overwhelming so we're a bit on edge trying to protect ya'." He explained smoothly as he brushed a few stray hairs off of my forehead and back behind my ear.

With their protective natures, this explanation did make a lot of sense. I mean, one time Rhea actually almost fought a fan at the airport because of how close he was to me despite, me telling him to get away. I guess them being my own personal bodyguards would make them a bit tense.

"Come on, as much as I hate to say it, let's get some clothes on you and put you to bed," Rhea ordered, shoving the boys out of the way to lead me back into the bathroom. I giggled at her statement, flushing bright red as she winked at me before closing the door to the bathroom, leaving me alone again as I quickly dried off and threw on some of my partners' clothes I'd stolen.

Coming out of the bathroom I saw all four of my wonderful partners seated on the edges of our giant bed, waiting for me to get into the middle for cuddles.

I grinned and got a running start, jumping full force onto the bed. Dominik made an exaggerated 'oomph' sound as I landed, causing Damian to swat the back of his head.

Laughing at my partners' antics, I crawled under the covers before opening my arms, signaling that I was ready for the puppy pile of cuddles I was about to receive.

I made my own 'oomph' sound as Dominik flopped on top of my chest, grinning wickedly as he playfully glared at me before sticking his face into my neck.

With all four of my partners now lying on top of me or next to me to some degree, I'd never felt safer or more comfortable.

Drifting off to sleep I only had one more thought.

"I love you guys."

[ghostchems]

smoke break - papa emeritus iii & sibling of sin

you find solace and a private place to smoke when you are caught by the new papa.

author's notes: cranked this out because i was feeling pretty similar to reader here! hence the teensy lil break from here and discord. good thing i could turn it into some 2k words of terzo sads :') there also be some weed smokin' and cuteness. ao3 link

The high, arched window is cracked and a cool breeze seeps into the secluded hall. You’re perched on the alcove with your knees up to your chest, a joint between your fingers that is carefully angled out the window crack. This is a deeply personal ritual of yours when life becomes too much: too much gossip, too many expectations and responsibilities, too much everything. A Satanic Ministry that is a firm promoter in personal freedom is not immune to drama and tension. You take a drag of the joint, filling your lungs with smoke before giving a shaky exhale, leaning your head against the wall. You love it here — you truly do. It’s the first place you’ve ever been able to be yourself. But even the most perfect of worlds can be exhausting.

Papa Emeritus the Third would be departing for his first tour in a few weeks and everyone was in a tizzy over it. Overworking themselves to ensure every aspect (the costumes, the lighting, the finances, etc.) of his debut are perfect and in turn, causing some ruffled feathers. You truly want to be involved but you don’t want to fight for a spot among those that have already asserted their place. So, you’ve drifted away from the rehearsals and the planning meetings, finding yourself in this particular alcove a few times a week to come down from the craziness of the day. Things are changing, so much potential for the ministry and it scares you. You’ve never been here for a transition like this and the influx of new recruits that usually followed. The idea of all this to do culminating in even more members that would change the make-up of the clergy you’ve grown so used to makes your head spin.

“Sorella.”

Your hazy eyes dart up from your lap and land on Papa’s face, his eyes narrowed with the paint around them dark and angled. He is scowling, holding his hand out for the joint. You scramble to hand it to him, your words catching in your throat as you shrink beneath his gaze. Papa is dressed in his robes and mitre, his stature tall and threatening. The sharp, golden nails on his glove prick your fingers as he takes the joint from you, examining it between two fingers. Your chest tightens, certain that you’re in trouble despite the usual lax rules when it comes the marijuana. You’ve never come face to face with the new papa before but if he is anything like Secondo you are expecting a fiery temper. Instead, he brings the joint to his lips and takes a long drag from it. Your jaw nearly drops. None of the higher ups typically indulge in such decadence in this casual a setting.

Papa sighs deeply and hops up onto the alcove, his feet dangling off the ground as he removes his mitre and sets it beside him. Your eyes are glued to how his raven hair spills out from it and he quickly smooths it back into place before taking another drag of the joint.

“What are you doing in this sequestered hall of the abbey, Sorella?” His voice is smooth and friendly, giving you uninterrupted eye contact even as he hands you back your joint. You feel the smoothness of his leather gloves this time, taking the joint back and forcing your body to relax.

“Just needed some space.” You murmur, averting your eyes away from his piercing gaze. Surely Papa has something better to do than speak to you, right?

“Mmm, I understand. Everyone seems to be on these days, don’t they?” He gives you a knowing look, his lips quirking into a grin. Ah, now you see it — his charms that have swept away your fellow siblings. And now you find yourself drifting off into his allure.

“Yes, Papa, and all for your tour debut.” He nearly winces at your words.

“Not for me — for the Ministry.” Papa’s eyes crinkle and there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your brows knit together, confused by his response. Then you start to get a better look at him and notice how exhaustion seems to radiate from him despite his cracked paint hiding the bags beneath his eyes. You’ve always seen Papa Emeritus as some larger than life being but seeing the Third in such a light tugs at your heartstrings. He is probably being worked to death and the expectations for success are much more pressure on him rather than the siblings of sin who are fighting over supporting him. You take a quick rip and extend the joint back out for him to take. He hesitates, then takes it and brings it to his lips.

Of course, you could be reading into things too deeply but you are familiar with his particular look of weariness.

“I’ve sat in on a few rehearsals. I think it’s safe to say some of the excitement is because of you.”

Papa’s expression softens as he puts out the joint on the window sill and flicks it out into the grass. He leans his head against the wall just as you had done and closes his eyes for a moment. Oddly comfortable silence falls over the both of you.

“It’s, eh, quite something, isn’t it?” His head lolls and tilts toward you, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Still, there are times it is difficult to be… present.” It’s hard not to smile back at him, his change in expression infectious.

“Well, I come here to feel like myself again every so often. And to smoke.” You let your own feet dangle off the alcove and wiggle in closer to him. Your gaze falls to his robes, intricate gold designs along the soft black fabric and the bright purple sleeves poking out from beneath, the urge to touch it growing stronger and stronger.

“Go on, dolcezza.” Papa’s voice drops to a low whisper, his eyes taking in the details in your face. You are fully feeling the high now, immediately reaching your hand out so your fingers can brush along the lace details of his sleeves without a second thought. He inches in closer to you, extending his arm out so you can tough even more, his shoulder firm against yours. Papa’s eyes are glued to you as you start to grow more confident, touching the golden grucifixes on the front of his robes. A purr rumbles up his chest and you feel it beneath your fingers. You lift your head and your eyes meet, a breath catching in your throat. Papa leans forward and presses his forehead into yours, a quiet moment passing between you until…

You giggle. You watch his eyes crinkle with glee and he laughs along with you. It's such a surreal moment but a funny one, nonetheless. You can’t shake how boyish Papa looks when he laughs, a contrast to how deathly serious he usually looks in his paints. The laughter starts to peter off, back to slight giggles as you lean back to your side of the alcove. Papa gives an amused exhale, book ended by a few quiet giggles. He bunches up his robe at his waist and dips his hand into the pocket of his pants. Papa gives a quiet grunt and extends his legs, stretching out so he can actually get his hand into his pocket and your eyes dart to how his shirt underneath his robes ride up his stomach, exposing a dark happy trail. It feels sinful to see so much of Papa but you can’t look away, mesmerized by his bare skin. He ends up pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket, seamlessly pulling one from the box and lighting it, setting the carton and lighter on the sill.

“I may have to steal this little ritual of yours, sorella.” He purrs with the cigarette between his lips, then takes a deep drag. “There aren’t many places for me to hide away from the eyes of Sister.” Papa’s eyes dart around the hall dramatically before giving another laugh.

“It’s all yours, Papa.” You don’t mind sharing, especially with him. It’s an odd feeling, to have your inhibitions completely stripped, overcome with a hazy high and buddying around with the most high-ranking member of the clergy. You’ve never exactly thought of a Papa being hip or spending much time with random siblings of sin **but the Third seems far more open to it. It makes you feel special. It makes you feel like he might be something special. “What will you do while on tour?”

“Oh, it is much easier to slip away when off premises.” His smile only widens. “In preparation for this role, I spent a lot of time traveling to different branches of the ministry, touring con il mio fratello… we got into a lot of trouble.” Papa chuckles as he gazes at his lit cigarette. “I could easily barricade myself in my hotel room if I truly need some me time.” You laugh, deep and hearty, and seeing his face light up from your response makes you blush. He’s charming. He’s funny. He’s loose. You can’t help but be more excited for his tenure as Papa now that you’ve seen exactly how he is. But even now, you can see his smile falter, his gaze falling back to the empty hallway.

“Papa!” Sister’s voice booms down the hall and he grits his teeth. It’s like he could sense her presence. He quickly taps out his cigarette and flicks it out the window, then jumps off the alcove.

“Eh, I guess I should not have dipped out of the budget meeting.” He shrugs with a weak smile, his robes falling perfectly back into place. You pick up his mitre for him, the weight of it heavy in your hands, handing it to him while your fingertips touch. The weariness is back in his eyes, the creases on his forehead and his frown lines more pronounced than before. You almost say something, your brain processing at a slower speed due to the weed, wanting to ask if he’s okay or needs help but you end up holding your tongue. Is it your place to ask him such things? You start to spiral in your own mind until he snaps you out of it with his smooth voice. “Until our next relaxation ritual.” He places his mitre atop his head and the transformation back to Papa Emeritus the Third is complete.

“D-don’t forget to take breaks, Papa. Everyone needs them.” You had to get it out and you almost regret saying it just from the way he eyes you after. He holds out his hand and takes yours, his thumb stroking the back of it.

“Call me Terzo, dolcezza.” But he says nothing of the breaks. And you know why — he can’t commit to taking them. Not now. Not when the weight of the ministry is on his shoulders. Not when he’s been preparing for this his entire life only for his individualism to be squashed by leadership.

Papa gives your hand a squeeze and then lets you go, his robes billowing behind him as he walks briskly to where Sister had been calling for him. So elegant yet so rushed. You look down beside you and realize he’s left his carton of cigarettes. He’s too far away now to get his attention, so you pick them up and examine them. You realize there is no discernible branding, the carton all black with some golden art deco lines. When you pop the lid open you find neatly packed rolls, obviously rolls he made himself.

You make a mental note to make sure you have them if you see him again at the alcove…

But something tells you you won’t.

[emmyrosee]

I heard you were looking for requests 👀

*ahem* I will take anything kirishima fluff related that you are willing to offer. I am such a sucker for him??? I would like him to smother me with his love and affection and I would like to smother him with mine in return. k thanks I’ll see myself out now-

(that is, if you write for him!! If not I will happily take more hawks or bakugou, you write them PERFECTLY)

K-KIRISHIMA??? T H E LOML???? THE ONE AND ONLY???

I WILL COMBUST RN SAY SIKE-

-

“Eiji, you promised me you’d be up before I got back.”

It wasn’t a promise per se, but it still was completely unnatural for Kirishima to be still in a state of sleepiness so late in the morning.

9 times out of 10, he’s up and at the gym for a few hours, showers, cooks you both breakfast all before waking you up; but today, he seems like he could sleep forever if you let him.

And you would’ve! But it’s his first day with you and you alone in months, and you didn’t want to spend it all in bed.

“I am up,” he murmurs from the half of his face not burrowed into a pillow.

“You’re not,” you assure. Crawling into bed, you straddle the hip that’s free from the mattress, the height difference making you squeak softly. “I meant you’d be up. Like, up, vertical.”

“Well you should’ve been more specific,” he teases. A strong arm reaches up to wrap around your waist, almost as if to keep you steady from potentially falling from your perch on his hip. 

You pout your lower lip out and shove his shoulder gently, “come on, Eiji,” you whine, watching as a bright red eye, still bleary with sleep, opens to peer up at you. “Don’t you want to spend the day with me? I even got you one of those breakfast sandwiches you like!”

“Of course I do,” he yawns, finally rolling on his back. He shifts you to remain in your straddle, thumbs easing over the softness of your hips. “But surely we could wait five more minutes.”

You cross your arms and look at him, unamused (or as unamused as you could look with him, which is not very) and you sigh, “since when do you like to sleep in?”

“Since I’m able to,” he gives you a cheeky smirk before folding his arms up behind his head, resting under the pillow as he closes his eyes. “Give me a few more minutes, babe. Then I’m yours.”

You click your tongue in annoyance before letting his body lax out, his breathing starting to fall more rhythmic with each gentle pass through his nose, and you hate how stunning he looks at ease, golden light of sun rays hitting his tanned skin.

…what kind of menace would you be if you let him sleep peacefully?

Shuffling softly, you reach up a loving hand to card the locks of red hair rom his forehead, smiling as he nuzzled into the touch.

Planting a soft kiss to his nose, you watch as he smiles sleepily, nudging his nose softly.

Then, you leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and he lets his lips pucker out gently, and you give him a proper kiss. Your hands gently smooth over his biceps, and he lets out a relaxed hum.

“What’re you planning?”

“Nothing,” you say softly. “Just like lookin’ at you.”

He smiles dopily and as silence once again fills the room, your nails dragging over the dips in his muscles. He jerks at the tickly feeling over his arms, and he growls out a playful “do not,” through his teeth.

“Your breath stinks,” you tease, before your hands pin his arms down, and you lean down to peck tiny kisses over his face. His lip quivers slightly, and as you start to make more noisy kisses, he lets out the smallest little snickers.

Settling down on top of him, your kisses trail over his cheeks and suddenly, your hands shoot under his underarms, and he shrieks in agony, “you’re so mean!”

“And you’re just so cute!” You croon, nuzzling into his cheeks while you tickle him gently. His back arches to try and knock you off, titters and giggles bubbling into the morning air. “You like to think you’re this big, bad, tough guy, and you’re just the softest, sweetest-“

“Shut up!” He shakes his head back and forth to cope with the sensations and your affectionate teasing, snorting softly through his nose and clamping his elbows to his sides. “Go away!”

“Are we gonna get up and eat the breakfast I got for us, or am I going to tickle you for the next several hours,” you tease. “Your decision.”

Your fingers don’t actually move, his arms are too tight to his body, but just the feeling of your fingers being there seems to be enough to keep him in stitches.

“F-Fine! I’m up! I’m up, leave me alone!”

“That’s what I thought,” you purr happily, planting little kisses over his jawline for compensation. “We’ll take a nap later, because I love you so much.”

He rolls his eyes, and upon locking eyes with you, he pins you with his now free arms, keeping you to his torso. Despite your struggling, he pants out a puff of his nasty morning breath in your face, smirking as you whine out at his obnoxious playfulness.

“Feral!” You scream, writhing hard against him.

“You started it, you snot rocket.”

[captain-mj]

Are we gonna get a part four for love potion pretty please I‘m eating drywall right now

Of course!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Soap went into the woods that night with Ghost to search for the beast. Well, that’s why Ghost invited him. He was collecting some of the ingredients for Roach. And then he did it the next night. And the next. Eventually, it had been two full cycles of the moon. 

Ghost had become slightly more lax around him. Not much, but if his armor exposed some of his skin or he just didn’t know what to say, he let Soap know. He joked with Soap. Soap was pretty sure he smiled at him. He swore he heard it in his voice. 

Right now, Ghost casually took off his mask. This far away from his beloveds, his eyes were normal. His hair had been cut a bit shorter since they had last talked. Soap wanted to draw him. Or kiss his freckles. Or both. “Hungry?” 

If he had less of a filter, he would’ve said yes, for him. The time together did not do him any favors. Instead of finding flaws with him, something to convince him that his crush is stupid. All it did was make him want him more and more. Sometimes all he wanted was to press his face against Ghost’s neck. 

If he was honest, with all of his spare time being used for Roach as well, he had a similar feeling. He wanted to press against him, kiss him breathless.

It was a good thing neither wanted him as it would impossible to ever choose. 

Soap nodded. “I could eat.” He pulled his bag out and sat down to lean against a tree. He expected Ghost to pick a different tree to sit at but instead, he sat right next to Soap, thighs almost pressed together. “We do this for how long, sir? Won’t Lord Roba miss you?”

“He’s found his time with me.” Ghost sighed. “Always does.” He stole a piece of the goat cheese Soap had and popped it in his mouth. 

Soap watched him, fascinated with how his teeth chewed through things. He took a piece of the fruit Ghost had and ate it quietly. 

Memories faded. That was part of the passage of time. But that night had been sealed into his brain. Ghost in the throes of pleasure, head tilted back, mouth open. Soap knew he could do better than them. With no spell, he was sure he could do better by Ghost. 

Maybe it was a bit of a wicked thought.. Especially with what he knew Ghost went through. But God that did not help his feelings for him. He wanted to kiss him desperately. To touch him. Run his fingers through his hair. Press against him. 

“Finds time?”

“In the morning. Today he decided to get my time before I left.” 

Soap glanced at him, biting his jealous back. Now that he pointed it out, Soap could see the bites right at the edge of his collar. “Hmm. And when do you sleep?”

Ghost laughed. “I don’t sleep.”

“Elf thing?”

“Ghost thing. Never slept well. Especially not now a days.” Ghost closed his eyes. 

“Did they do something that hurts?”

Ghost paused and glanced at him. “Why do you care?”

“I want to know if you’re hurt.” Soap answered honestly. 

He seemed to accept that answer as he nodded and looked away again. “Some cuts on my thighs. I can move just fine. My fault?”

“How was it your fault?”

Ghost finished his food and sighed. He glanced at him. “Haven’t found the thing yet. They’re punishing me until I find it.” 

Soap nodded. “We’ll find it.” Or he’d die trying. He hated the idea of Ghost being punished for the crime of not being able to track a creature that might not even exist. 

Ghost sighed. “I hope we don’t. I can take it. It’s just a creature following it’s nature. Doesn’t deserve to die for that. I’m used to being hurt.”

“You joked about eating it.”

“I’ll make the most of it if we do. I won’t hesitate to kill it. But… I don’t want to. I stopped wanting to hurt anyone a long time ago.” Ghost smiled and closed his eyes. 

Soap swallowed and chose to sit in silence with that. He looked at him, wanting to kiss him. 

Simon looked at him. Soap could feel the difference. Something changed from one second to another. “Johnny.”

“Simon, do you think if we were miles away, things would be different?”

“What do you mean?”

“If we were somewhere else, miles removed from everything, what would you do?” 

Ghost thought about it for a minute. “I’d go home to Roba and Pilar as soon as I could.” 

Soap felt his heart break. “Ah. I see. Let’s keep going.” 

Ghost nodded and got up, pulling his mask back on. 

The two of them ventured further out and Soap looked for the last two ingredients on his list. Something from Ghost and foxgloves. They had something to do with deception and the breaking of it. 

Soap had no clue how he was going to get something from Ghost. He did tell Ghost he was looking for foxglove. When asked why he’d need foxglove, he fumbled before just awkwardly explaining they were his favorite.

Ghost had stared at him for a minute before they continued through the night. As the moon started to set, Soap realized it was another night without the plant he needed and another day where Ghost would be punished for not finding this fucking thing. 

Soap sighed as they circled the entire town. “Guess we’ll have to call it a night, Simon.” He turned around and paused. 

Ghost had a bundle of foxglove out. “Here. I passed some earlier.” 

Soap swallowed and took it slowly. “Thank you.” 

Ghost nodded and left him alone there. Soap looked at the flowers in his hand and swallowed thickly. His hand came up slowly to touch the buds. 

It took him a long time to walk away from that spot as his head spun. But eventually he did. He went straight to Roach. 

Roach who beamed when he saw him. Roach who always let him stay longer than he needed to. 

Roach who took the foxglove and noticed an important detail. 

Ghost had used his handkerchief to hold the stems together. 

“Everything I need.”

[discodreaming]

characters: gladiolus amicita x reader

general warnings: none, it's fluff and kind of nsfw some parts. headcanon based mostly

You’d always known Gladio was a hopeless but passionate romantic; he always showered you with his seemingly limitless love. It was new for you; your other boyfriends couldn’t live up to Gladio’s level. He’d always go beyond the bare minimum, not by a little but by a lot. And every little thing he did sent a flutter of butterflies to roam through your chest and stomach, causing you to giggle and kick your feet happily. 

Gladio loved you and wasn’t afraid to show it, whether you be in public or even in private. His hands were on your waist, on your hips or even holding your hand as you walked through the streets of Lucis. He’d always be touching some part of you, especially if you weren’t comfortable with PDA.

If you were having a bad day, he’d be there in an instant - even if he was supposed to be dealing with Noctis. But he has been warned he was only to watch over Noctis, not fully babysit him. Besides, it was his day off when he came to your apartment, using the spare key he had to come right in. He’d have everything for you too, from the snacks, favorite drinks, blankets and even getting your favorite movie ready. His arm rubbing your back as he listens to you cry and vent out your problems. And if you didn’t feel like talking? Don’t worry he’s still gonna c uddle you and wait for you to talk as you two simply sit there together.

Even if Gladio is having a bad day, he does have somewhat of a habit of not wanting to talk about things. Especially since he was the one to take up the family mantle of the shield for the crown. But with gentle hands on his arm, his face and a little kiss he can find himself fully relaxing into your arms as he tells you what’s happened, his body falling lax as he lays his head on your stomach. 

Noctis and Prompto are most def jealous of Gladio being able to pick someone like you up so easily. Gladio having to listen to the way they rant. “One day you two will find someone.” he would always say as he sends a text to you, asking how you would like to go on a date that night. 

I wanna tell you how much he worships the ground you walk on, calling you his little prince(ss) sometimes. Or even his flower. My god this man if you were to marry him he’d go way above and beyond, even more so for you. 

Some angst: He’s always worried over you, protective over you especially when the fall happened. To which he does end up double texting you or he’ll go radio silent due to the issues happening. He always makes sure to reassure you everything will be okay, everything is alright, that you guys will get through this together. 

And Gladio is a family man, he’s very protective of those he does consider family. So he would be all for marriage, and having kids with you. And i’m not talking about just one or two, he would want a lot of them. But he’d be fine with one or two if that’s what you want. 

GIRL DAD CODED HE IS T H E GIRLDAD

He is WHIPPED FOR YOU. absolutely whipped, he has you as his background, especially with a cute picture of you two together. 

NSFW DOWN BELOW

Breeding kink.  Even if the two of you aren’t trying for a child, he’s very much still wanting to try and breed you, fill you up with everything that is him. So this could also count as a possessive kink too. 

He rarely ever fucks, he’s more of a passionate and love-making type of man. But if you do ask him nicely he is willing to be rough though.

He gets off to you being smaller than him ( which isn’t hard, man is 6’6. ) but only because he can see the bulge in your stomach and he likes pressing down onto it because of all your little reactions to it. 

Now for the rougher kinks? He likes to overstimulate you, likes to make sure you’re feeling good and that does mean he is giving you the upmost pleasure and won’t stop until he thinks you have had enough or you say a safe word. 

He’ll fuck you in the truck but as a treat and if you two are just too needy to help yourselves, but that’s mostly reserved for the special date nights in the back of his truck, especially picnics. 

Although he prefers slow love making, if you two need it he will go for a quickie and sometimes if you’re begging hard enough for it he will pound you and make sure you can feel it for days. 

[elfqueen006]

Human Moonpie Headcanons

CW/Tags: AU, parenting, religious bashing, slight horror elements, implied possession, etc.

• Full name is Miranda Durand-Cofer. Is 8-10 years old. Likes cats and princess movies.

• She's still blind but Shaun makes sure she's properly accommodated while not making her feel left out or "othered" from her peers.

• She loves to explore and color. Her favorite colors are purple and pink!

• Very chatty, but says the cutest (and sometimes weirdest) things.

• Wants to be a fashion designer when she grows up!

• Now, I used to have an idea that Shaun had a one night stand with a girl in college and they now co-parent. But after hearing of Olivia and their implied history, this could be applied to them but she mainly resides with Shaun.

• I feel like not only would Shaun be a good dad, but he probably had it in mind when starting his career. He'd have to settle down at some point, right? Though balancing work life and a child can be tricky, especially with the subject matter he portays in his films.

• I feel that now that a child is added to the mix, his uncle, Abraham Cofer, comes down on him much harder. Badgering him about introducing Miranda to "devilment" and "horror porn". Which Shaun rightfully goes off about this, seeing as he would never put his daughter in a position where she would experience anything inappropriate.

• There are times he tries to at least give Abraham updates on her, just to have some semblance of normalcy. And I think Abraham would want to be involved in Miranda's life, but he is an old man who is stubborn and stuck in his ways and probably thinks being involved means Shaun should see things his way about, well, everything.

• If Miranda has the clairvoyance that Shaun is implied to have in the Character Reveal Trailer, there's a chance she'd have the ability to see Sunny Day Jack without watching the tape.

• If we have a co-parenting situation with you and Shaun. Maybe the events likely to happen in the game with go a bit differently. It would still be horror, but with a different approach.

• Kids are not an uncommon factor in horror. They can range from being victims, killers, and even mediators of sorts between the dead and the living.

• Jack loves children! And I think if ever encountering Miranda and she was able to see him, he'd adore being like a big brother figure of sorts. Like Shaun, he wouldn't dare put her in a scenario that would harm her. Still, keeping in mind that he's a yandere, I don't think he'd be above using her innocence to his advantage; planting ideas in her mind that her environment might not be so safe.

• Shaun isn't fit to be a parent, in Jacks' eyes. He's too career oriented, makes indecent material, and is overall too lax in his parenting! If Jack had it his way, Miranda would be under his care 24/7...

• Strange occurrences start happening with Shaun soon. He has more nightmares, calls with his uncle distress him more than normal. It begins to scare you and Miranda so you take her to your parents for a short amount of time so he can calm down.

• After about a month or so of missed calls and frantic texting, Shaun is... completely fine! He'd been attending some therapy sessions and taking some time off work to get his head straight. In fact, he might just go into a different career path.

• He's eager to have Miranda in his arms again, and he reassures you and her that he'll always be here to spend time together... <3

[1-up-chump]

I love your MK headcanons. They're so inspiring for my own writing.

Would you be able to give me some for marrying/ wedding ceremony/ wedding night with some of the MK baddies please? Kano/ Shang Tsung/ shao kahn/ mileena? Thank you.

Aaaa thank you! I don't consider myself all that inspiring but im glad someone does!

Mortal kombat villains in marriage

Kano:

Kano never thought himself the "marrying type" but when he met you? He swears he heard wedding bells.

Despite his dignity and manners being "dubious" to say the least, he is a man who knows how to separate business and pleasure. He wouldn't get far in the black dragon if he didn't.

So he keeps the ceremonies small and simple, who he invites is who he personally trusts to behave which is only a few. The rest would probably be on your side, whether they know what you really do or not is how things play out.

Kano makes sure to present himself in a less shady manner to your friends and family if you kept being a member of the black dragon secret. Surprisingly the man cleans up nicely.

Regardless, kano can't wait to get to the "honeymoon" part.

Shang tsung:

Despite being arrogant he's extremely cautious, so if he decides to marry it means it's truly for love. And he trusts to be with someone for all eternity (even if it means if his beloved wont accept immortality he can always attach their soul to his wedding ring to keep them forever)

As prideful a man shang tsung is, he wants the ceremony small and private. Maybe a little traditional but he's willing to compromise for your traditions as well if you have any.

The reception however. Is going to be big, so extravagant that he's waving a big sign to the elder gods that says "haha you may have cursed me but im still a happy bastard!" And of course shang tsung has beefed security on his island so he can show off everyone what a precious jewel his spouse is.

And after all that shang tsung gives you a very rare gift for the honeymoon, his submission in bed. Savor it but don't take it for granted.

Shao kahn:

Makes sure this wedding is the envy of all realms, like shang tsung the reception is going to be bigger than the actual ceremony. However unlike shang tsung, shao kahn is more lax.

All the attention is directed at you and shao, so even if that makes you a bit uncomfortable, he holds you close to him or gets the attention off of you (its very easy because this man thrives off of the attention.) Also expect tons of gifts from "the peasants".

And of course the reception would be a mortal kombat tournament. It's not shao kahn without some kind of brutal kombat time. He wants to show off as much as possible, his display of love is violently tearing opponents apart.

Of course all that battle is really just him "warming up" for the honeymoon. You will be sore for days.

Mileena:

Mileena will not feel comfortable marrying you until after she is kahn. Once that is all settled, you two will marry promptly.

The ceremony is a bizzare mixture of edenian and tarkatan cultures. Shockingly the combination inspires others to view the tarkatan in a different light. Thusly, your marriage is also a boost in political influence.

But that was never mileena's intentions, she loves you too much to use you like that. For the first time her whole being is bared to someone, who wants to stay forever.

Mileena cries at her own wedding, she didn't think about such things before. But when experiencing the ceremony, being in a beautiful dress, exchanging vows, partaking in a shared carcass of meat, her heart is filled with joy.

Your honeymoon will be filled with the most sentimental and wildest of "activities" including new things that either one of you may or may not enjoy in the future

[yuurei20]

Jamil Info Compilation part 17: Kalim(pt6)

During Spectral Soiree Kalim is possessed by a ghost that slaps Jamil’s hand away and tells him to mind his station and to never touch an aristocrat.

Silver tries to convince Kalim to return by reminding him that they are close friends, following with, “And I’m sure Jamil feels the same way,” but Jamil responds, “I, uh…suppose you’re not entirely off base.”

The best compliment that Jamil manages is “I’d take Kalim and his obliviousness over this pompous tyrant,” and the ghost leaves on its own in disgust at how lax the owner of the body it has possessed must be.

Jamil is often referring to Kalim as “a certain someone” or “you-know-who” when complaining about him, and it is through Jamil that we learn that Kalim may be a poor flier and poor at applying make up.

When Cater is shopping for souvenirs during Firelit Sky—debating between one hourglass for getting good grades and another for improved focus—Jamil silently thinks to himself that Kalim should not only get both, but that he would gift them to him himself.

Jamil tells Sebek that he is jealous of how Sebek is able to respect his housewarden.

When Sebek asks if that is not the case for Jamil, Jamil refuses to comment and says, “We have been together since we were born, It is only natural that others would view us that way.”

When comparing Kalim to Riddle, Jamil says that Kalim is “TOO easy going,” telling Trey that they both have their work cut out for them.

When Trey comments on how different Kalim and Riddle are Jamil responds, “And yet they are alike in their ability to cause ceaseless stress.”

Jamil says that Beanfest was “trivial compared to looking after Kalim. At least harps don’t run off and pull idiotic stunts.”

There is a general rule that Kalim only eats food that Jamil has personally prepared for him due to the constant risk of someone trying to poison the heir to the Asim family. Vil questions his baggage in Book 5 and Jamil explains, “It’s a set of potions and medicinal herbs, so that I can formulate antidotes in the event of an emergency.”

They get around this rule in a vignette where Kalim eats the lunches that Jamil had prepared for him the day before (both his own and Jamil’s), forcing them to eat at the school cafeteria. Jamil says there is no need to check for poison because the school offers a buffet.

Afterwards Kalim offers to eat in the cafeteria more often, but (after an awkward interaction with Leona) Jamil insists that he would prefer to make his lunches, so Kalim will need to control his late-night snacking.

We learn that Kalim refuses to eat curry after an incident where Jamil poison-tested some that was intended for him and fell ill, being “bedridden for days on end.” Kalim says that Jamil wasn’t bothered by it, and it he still loves it to this day.

While it is never specified who poisoned Kalim’s curry, Jamil seems to suspect Kalim’s Asim relatives of “treacherous” schemes.

Despite how he has already been poisoned on Kalim’s behalf already Jamil still seems to be acting as Kalim’s poison tester, so "die instead of Kalim" might also be one of his responsibilities?

We see Kalim encourage Jamil to eat curry offered during the school’s Halloween party, but Jamil explains, “Your complete lack of vigilance is exactly why I can’t have time to myself.”

Jamil says that he is “quite familiar” with potions and poisons and that, thanks to his spending three years drilling the procedures into him, even Kalim can brew simple antidotes to perfection.

Kalim says he always carries stomach-soothing potion for emergencies that Jamil has brewed for him.

Jamil also seems to often carry motion sickness medication and has said that he researches toxins.

[mysticmellowlove]

warnings; yandere behaviour, dub-con situation

word count; 581

a/n; i lived bitch pt 2

quietly he entered the room, his strides lax and controlled. on the bed was the only person who made him smile. a grin broke across his face as he tossed his shirt to the side and stretched his aching limbs upwards.

after a long day's work he couldn't wait to be in your arms. a hum left his mouth as he entered the connecting bathroom, making sure the light from inside didn't hit you in the face. apart from a disgruntled huff you didn't move. his eyes squinted under the sudden light as he fumbled his way around the counter until his fingers brushed against the tap.

after turning it on he cupped some water in his hands and splashed it onto his face, watching satisfied as the blood ran off his skin. the ruddy colour on the white basin was a stark comparison. he watched it swirl down the drain before he turned the tap off, a funny smile on his mouth.

without much more time wasted he giddily shut off the light and relied on his memory to make it to the side of the bed. once his eyes adjusted he could see your outline there, your face blissfully relaxed as you snored lightly.

he pulled back the covers and slid in, mourning how he was cold and you were so warm. as expected you shifted, whining as you lightly pushed at his bare chest. he laughed at your attempt, trapping you in his arms instead. his head nuzzled into your hair as he let himself take you all in.

"mmm late...." you trailed off, half awake yet half asleep. he looked down at you fondly, bending his neck so he could pepper a kiss to your cheek. you mumbled but still wrapped your arms around him. he buzzed at the contact, it was like a live wire against his skin. your brow creased a little as your fingers wandered.

"huh... shirtless, lucky me." you grinned smugly as he shoved your face into his chest. he laughed as well, opening his arms so he could then trap you inside.

"you even smell nicer... such luck." of course he smelt nice, he put a lot of effort into being the best version of himself, especially in recent times. you were so warm compared to him, he wanted to coddle you forever, hold you close to him so no one would be able to steal you away.

his eyes widened as you leaned up and kissed him. your lips were soft and smooth and smelled slightly like cherries. he divulged in it, letting the sensation of finally being intimately connected with you wash over him.

"sleep soundly my love." he whispered as you grew heavy in his arms once again. he adored how you felt so comfortable around him despite never sleeping beside him. he marvelled at the comfortable look on your face as you pressed against him. he envied how you were able to sleep in the same house as a dead body.

a sigh left him, despite feeling so high now there was something in the back of his mind tingling. right now he was in bliss but come the morning he would have to explain why you weren't sleeping next to your boyfriend, why he was in pieces downstairs with a knife stuck through his chest.

but that was a problem for the morning, for now he'd enjoy this moment and let it commit itself to his memory.

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 20

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 3,953

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

April 2022

The soft beep of Chris’ security system echoed through the otherwise quiet home just as he was pulling plates out of a cabinet. With a glance backwards over his shoulder, he watched as Lisa came into the kitchen, her face tired as her hands held a take-out bag from her favorite restaurant in town.  

“You look beat,” he chuckled as he took the food from her, but knew he felt the exact same way as she looked. 

“That’s what all mothers of the brides look like the day after a wedding,” Lisa shook her head as she sat down heavily on a barstool, taking a sip of water from the glass he’d sat out for her. Chris busied himself with putting their food on plates, sliding Lisa hers as he walked around the island to sit down next to her, putting his plate down in front of him. “Did you have a good time last night? I was a little worried about you.” 

“I had a great time. I love to see Shanna this happy,” he honestly replied, knowing how momentous the occasion was for his younger sister. He shook his head as he picked up his sandwich, brushing off her concern by saying, “Don’t worry about me, Ma. I’m fine.” 

Lisa shrugged back, holding a chip in her hand as she pointed out, “You’ve just seemed a little more subdued this weekend.” 

“I’m just tired,” he placated, knowing it was the truth. Between a heavy filming schedule – one where he was almost entirely alone, save for Josh and Dodger, on his off hours – and flying from Atlanta to Boston late Friday, spending all of Saturday with their entire family, then putting everything back in his suitcase and rolling it to where it now rested, next to the front door, waiting until it was time to head out for his flight back to Georgia. 

But Lisa simply raised an eyebrow at her eldest son, looking at him suspiciously as she suggested, “I thought it might have a little more to do with the fact that Nat couldn’t come.” 

His face fell into a small frown, knowing it was the truth. “That too,” he murmured. It’d been worrisome when Nat called – tired, but most of all under the weather and stressed – on Thursday, just as Chris was leaving set for the day. But the other shoe dropped on mid-morning Friday, when Nat called, extremely apologetic as she told Chris she wouldn’t even be able to make it out of bed, not to mention down to LAX to make it onto the cross-country flight to meet him in Boston that evening. 

“How is she doing? The poor thing sounded terrible yesterday morning when you had her on speaker phone,” Lisa asked him, her eyes worried as she recalled Nat’s strained voice. 

“I haven’t talked to her much since then. I tried calling her a few times this morning but she didn’t answer,” Chris informed her, his voice low as he shrugged, but was unable to quell the overwhelming worry that he felt for Nat.

“Hopefully she’s getting some sleep.” 

“God knows she doesn’t get it any other time,” he muttered, sighing as he paused and took another bite of his sandwich. “I’m not really surprised that she’s been sick so much lately, I don’t think she ever stops working.” 

“I’m sure she would have made it if she could,” Lisa tried to assure him, but her efforts fell well short.

“It’s not that,” Chris insisted, wanting her to know he wasn’t upset about the sickness leaving her behind in Los Angeles. It was about what got her to this point. “I know she wanted to come this weekend. She was crying on the phone when she said she couldn’t come and was really upset about it. I’m not frustrated about her getting sick, but just more that she has done nothing but work for the past four months.” 

“Won’t that be over with soon, though? She’s only busy while she has the two movies overlapping, right?” 

“That’s the thing though, Lightyear is completely finished,” Chris said. He knew it finished last month – having been on the email thread of the main crew celebrating, but having also seen Nat’s calendar with the deadline circled in red. He remembered her sky-high stress levels in the week leading up to that hard deadline, but then only got to see a fraction of the stress leave her shoulders as she jumped into the next projects, the next deadline, the task. “Her work load is just insane and she doesn’t ever say no to anything. She keeps saying that it’s a season but I’m not so sure it is.” 

“Do you feel like it’s different than it was last year?” Lisa asked, her brows furrowed as she listened to his words and ate her sandwich.  

“Definitely,” Chris agreed instantly. He remembered how carefree Nat was last year, coupled with them growing closer to each other and beginning their relationship. But now he felt like something had shifted inside of Nat, and he struggled to reconcile this overworking and burn out with anything that he knew Nat to be. “I know earlier this year it was because of the two movies overlapping, but I feel like it’s worse now that I’m working, because she just never shuts down for the day. Even when she visited here in Boston in February and Atalanta in March, she’d work in bed when I was falling asleep.” 

Lisa nodded as she listened to Chris, pointing out, “It’s a hard line because Nat’s job is who she is.” 

“That’s the thing though. Being an artist is who she is and her job was just what she did, but now I feel like her job is her life,” Chris replied, his hands flying in the air as he finished his lunch. “Her job has become her identity and I don’t know why. She never wanted that. Ever.” 

“Why do you think that is?” 

He struggled to answer her simple question, at a true loss for words. Nat to him was always so self-assured, strong, and capable. But now, from what short conversations they’d been able to have before he fell asleep or had to go back to set, or in between her meetings, he just felt as though she was doubting everything she did. She always brushed off his concern, saying she was fine, but his worry only grew larger with every passing day where she didn’t go back to being Nattie. “I honestly don’t know. Nat doesn’t care about doing things in a traditional way or being stuck in societal norms and that’s what I love so much about her. I love that Nat’s her own person in every way but I feel like she just keeps slipping into… I don’t know… what she thinks she should be doing or what she thinks it means to be successful. I don’t really understand.” He finally answered, feeling as though nothing he said would make sense to anyone except his mother. 

“I feel like this is maybe something you should try to talk to her about. Maybe just bring it up in a gentle way and see how she’s feeling,” Lisa suggested, her hand resting comfortingly on the back of his shoulder as she stood up to put their dishes in the dishwasher. 

“Lately when I talk to her it just feels… different,” he admitted, swallowing anxiously as all his fears came to the surface. “Nat’s always been honest. I’ve always loved how she’s just so open and upfront with her feelings but lately it just seems like she isn’t telling me the truth about what’s going on and isn’t open about things. I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s more about her pulling back from me…” 

“Chris, I don’t want to see you just sit back and let it get to the point where it’s too big to figure out,” Lisa began, her voice more worried than it had been at the beginning of the conversation. 

“I think I just need to talk to her,” he nodded, moving to put the bag and containers from the restaurant in the trash can. His shoulders slouched a little as he added, “But we barely get time to do that anymore.” 

“Well if it’s worth it to you, then you’ll make the time,” Lisa simply – and firmly – replied.

“Nattie’s worth it,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. “I love her so much Ma and I guess I’m just afraid that when we talk, what she says might be something I don’t want to hear.” 

“There’s only one way to find out,” Lisa smiled, then her look grew wider as she suggested, “Besides, the answer to all of this might be a lot more simple than you’re imagining it to be.” 

With a hopeful grin, Chris went to grab his coat and backpack from the living room before he and Lisa headed out for the airport, with Chris’ departure back to Atlanta rapidly approaching. He’d been looking forward to this weekend for a variety of reasons – celebrating his sister and her new husband, Daniel, getting to sleep in his own bed, see his niece and nephews, and be back home – but most of all, he’d been looking forward to seeing Nattie. It had been a huge disappointment that she couldn’t be there, especially with this uncertainty and worry that had cropped up in their lives, but he found himself counting down the hours until he could somehow get a visit in to see his girl, because he knew that once they were together everything would feel a lot more right. 

Mark stared at Nat in near-disbelief as she pulled the door to her apartment open, leaning on it for support. “You look like absolute shit,” he decisively told her before brushing past Nat and heading into her apartment, the smell of soup wafting from the bag he held. 

“Thanks for that,” she rolled her eyes as she shut and locked the door behind him then followed him down the hall, arms wrapped around herself as she shuffled down the hallway. 

“I just mean you really are sick, aren’t you?” Mark asked as he eyed Nat carefully, sitting down at her table. She rolled her eyes to herself at Mark’s obvious intentional distance-putting between them, but instead opened the bag that was sitting on the counter and pulled one of the soups out, grabbing a spoon on her way to sit at the island. 

“Well I’m not hunched over the toilet throwing up anymore like I was yesterday. I'd say I'm actually doing pretty good right now,” she shrugged, her eyes shutting as she tasted the chicken noodle soup. 

“Hopefully this soup helps,” her friend chuckled, a fond grin on his face. 

“Thanks for bringing it over, Mark, I really appreciate it,” she told him honestly. 

“Happy to,” he shrugged, brushing off her appreciation. “I knew you felt like shit and I’m sure having to stay home this weekend didn’t help.” 

Nat’s face fell a little at the reminder of what this weekend was. She and Chris were supposed to go to his younger sister’s wedding together back in Boston, spend time with his family, have fun, and let their guard down a little while surrounded by the Evanses’ closest friends. She’d been so excited, not only to be a tiny part of the family’s big day, but to also see him. Life had been…. Hectic, to say the least, over the last three months for them both. With Nat’s work schedule as busy as it’d ever been and with Chris spending his weeks in Atlanta, they were lucky to have gotten two quick visits in with each other, but her schedule and lack of sleep had taken its toll, leaving her with a stomach bug and a canceled flight and having to write an apologetic message to the bride. She was also disappointed, however, because she’d wanted to tell him about the latest news she’d received that Thursday morning. 

“Going to Boston has been the one thing I’ve been looking forward to and I had to get sick this weekend,” she admitted, a deep frown on her lips as she stared down at the still-warm soup. 

Mark sighed, a long and low sound from across the room. She picked her head up to look at him, seeing the concern in his eyes as he confessed, “I can’t say that I’m surprised with how hard you’ve been working. You haven’t really taken great care of yourself lately, Nat.” 

“Well you know how busy it’s been, and then with me taking off last month to go see Chris on set and then this weekend, I’ve had to pack in more,” she shrugged, trying to – not for the first time – brush off someone’s obvious concern and worry for her. 

“And the other day you were in that meeting for nearly half the day,” Mark recalled, the furrow between his brows growing as he tilted his head in curiosity. “What was that about anyway?” 

“Jamie didn’t tell you?” Nat asked, her voice trailing off in surprise. 

“No he was busy in meetings all day yesterday so I didn’t get to talk to him,” Mark informed her, but quickly asked, “So what happened?” 

“They offered me a promotion,” Nat told him, feeling a soft smile crawling across her lips as she looked over at him going on to explain, “They want me to be in charge of the animators for Inside Out.” 

Even from a few feet away, she could see Mark’s eyes nearly bugging out of his head as he exclaimed,“Are you serious, Nat? That’s incredible!” His excitement quickly turned to curiosity as he wondered out loud, “Are you going to take it?” 

“I’m not sure yet,” Nat muttered as her eyes fluttered back down to her soup as she watched the noodles floating as her spoon pushed around in the broth. She took a breath before glancing back to her longtime friend and revealed, “The catch is I have to move to Pixar headquarters.” 

“In San Francisco?” 

“Yeah…” 

“That’s an incredible opportunity though Nat,” Mark couldn’t help but bring up with a soft shake of his head, knowing all that this meant but asked, “What does Chris think?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t talked to him. With his sister's wedding he’s busy and I kind of wanted to tell him in person,” she stopped momentarily to fish the tissue out of her sweatpants pocket, blowing her nose before telling Mark that, “I talked to my dad and sisters though and they all were excited. My dad kept telling me how proud of me he was.” 

“Your dad is always proud of you, no matter what.” 

Although she knew that Mark’s words were true, her dad being so full of joy and love not only just for her but for her two older sisters as well, there was more to it than just that. In her family, both Heather and Alex were apparently like their mother being more driven and structured whereas she took after her dad and inherited his love to dream. But when her mother had passed away and Eric was left a single dad raising three girls, so many of his own dreams were put on a shelf where they had since gotten covered with dust and forgotten. 

Although Nat knew that he didn’t resent one bit of it, and instead spoke about being so thankful to have his girls, she knew that there was a part of him that took pride in helping Nat achieve her dreams in a way he didn’t get a chance to. She could feel tears in her eyes when she remembered finding out how her dad had taken on extra hours to help scrape the money together to put her through art school and how he’d search through Goodwill every day on his way home from work to find art supplies for her. She held those memories so close to her heart, remembering the sacrifice he’d made for her, and still to this day wanted to make him proud. 

 “You have no idea how hard he worked to put me through art school though. This feels like proof all his hard work paid off,” Nat finally put her emotions into words, but knowing that the depth of what she felt couldn’t be summed up that simply. 

“Well if this is what you want to do, I’m happy for you Nat,” she knew just how true his words were. For the past decade, Mark and Jamie had been her best friends that were more like family. They had been there for her in every step of life and she was there for them in the same way and they all shared in each other’s sorrows and joys and this time was no different. 

“I don’t know that it’s exactly what I want to do but I feel like I have to,” Nat confided in him with a shrug and a brush through her disheveled curls, admitting simply,  “I can’t do this anymore.” 

“What do you mean? Can’t do what?” Mark’s voice was hesitant and his eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at her from across the room. 

“All of this,” Nat gestured vaguely as her shoulders shrugged. Her eyes dropped down to the soup as she felt the anxieties bubble out of her. “I can’t handle this workload that they keep adding more and more to and still have a life. I mean, it was fine when I was willing to dedicate more time to work but I don’t want to anymore, especially once Chris is done filming. With this promotion I’d have more set hours and flexibility, especially once I settle in.” 

“Nat, do you really want to give up being an animator though? You love it,” he recalled, his voice almost prideful. 

“I do but…I guess just more and more I keep seeing how badly I want more than just my career,” she admitted, pausing as she tried to muster the courage to admit, “I want my own family and time to create for myself and I want… Chris. I want a life with him, and this promotion seems like the only way to do it. With this promotion I can have normal hours and take time off and not be exhausted when I go home at night.” 

Mark’s head cocked to the side again as he looked at her, his voice tentative as he reminded her, “What about doing more of your own art and selling it? I was thinking you wanted to do that more.” 

“I do but that seems like something more down the road. I don’t think that’s enough to pay the bills right now,” she sadly confessed. She’d be lucky to scrape together enough to pay for rent, not to mention deal with her own healthcare, her own insurance, and supplies. “Besides, it seems dumb not to take this promotion. I mean, anyone in our department would kill for this job.” 

A single brow rose as Mark chuckled, “Me included.” 

“Should I be worried you put something in this soup?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugged with a smirk, but then the smirk dropped and he turned serious. “But seriously Nat, I’m so happy for you.”

Nat nodded to herself as she stirred her soup absent-mindedly. “I hope Chris will be just as happy as you are,” she spoke. 

“Do you think he won't be?”

“Honestly I'm not sure. It's not a secret that he's not been super happy about my hours,” she muttered through a frown. Although they hadn’t outright argued about her hours in a while, it was an underlying source of tension the past few months. “I know some of it he's just worried about me but the other part of me can't help but wonder if he maybe resents the fact I can't be with him as much as he wants.”

“He hasn't said that has he?” Mark’s eyebrow rose as he leaned his elbows on the table. 

“No but that's a bit of a conflict in the past where he's just used to doing what he wants and having everyone around him be able to go along with him,” Nat knew that there was a big divide in their lifestyles. She had a regular job, used to going in five days a week, having meetings, worrying from time to time about finances, and when to get groceries after a long work day. But on the other side of it, although Chris was down to earth, he was used to having a large bank account and for the most part, a fairly flexible schedule that allowed him to do what he wanted when he wanted and with whom he wanted. His life was much different than hers and that was just a fact that couldn’t be ignored, especially when Nat thought back to the fact she couldn’t seem to make a relationship work even with someone who had a similar lifestyle, noting, “And look what happened with Shane?  He expected me to drop everything for him too.”

“That doesn't mean it'll happen with Chris though,” Mark pointed out, his tone hopeful as he rushed to add, “I mean, if you want to do this then I’m sure he'll support that.”

“I do want to take this promotion. It’s the logical next step, right?” Nat asked, her brow raised as she looked at her close friend, one of the few people she trusted implicitly to guide her in this. 

“It’s a killer job, Nat. I know I wouldn't turn it down,” Mark told her, his hands waving. He looked at her seriously as he sighed and added, “Besides, like you said, it’ll give you more regular hours and flexibility so it’ll let you have time to create the life you want.” 

“I want something different, Mark. I want a family with Chris and I think we’re heading in that direction so I want to make some of these decisions so that we can have it,” she confessed. She knew it was a logical stepping stone to eventually a career where she could – maybe, hopefully – spend her days meeting virtually instead of on Campus, getting to join Chris wherever he was filming next, and getting that flexibility to start a family with the man she loved. “Besides, this job is more of a career. It feels like proof that chaotic, messy, emotional Nattie Marton can make her dreams come true.” 

Mark’s face fell a little at that self-conscious statement, assuring Nat, “You are, Nat. You’ve done what a lot of artists aren’t able to and I think you should take this job.” 

“I’m going to. It’s just too good to turn down,” she admitted with a small grin. 

With Mark’s proud smile and another congratulations thrown at her, Nat stared down at the now-cold soup in front of her, unable to think of anything but proving herself. Proving that she was capable, that she deserved this role, and that her choices in life paid off. For so long her own insecurities in herself and being the black sheep in so many situations left her feeling like the value she offered couldn’t be through her personality that had always been a bit much, but instead what she could contribute through work. She wanted to prove to everyone, most mostly to herself that all this work, all this stress, tears, late nights, and postponed things was worth it, and most of all, that she could do it, and was worthy of it.

A/N: We'll be back in May with the next chapters! Feel free to send us any thoughts between now and then!

[rosenallies]

mirage as Anetra’s sister in drag racer au??? my heart just thinking about it! 🥲🥲💕💕

Idk if you wanted this as a prompt or if u were just commenting on it but I had to introduce her so I’m using this as a vessel <3

——

“Who is this?!” Anetra grumbled into the phone, finally picking up after the same number had called her over and over again throughout the day, leaving no message.

The voice on the other end almost made her drop her phone.

“Anetra?” Breathed the voice of her baby sister, Mirage, someone she hadn’t heard from since her mom kicked her out almost 8 years ago.

She and Mirage had always been close as kids, making up dances in the backyard and giggling into the darkness all night until their mother yelled at them through the wall to quiet down and go to sleep. If Anetra missed anyone from her real blood family, it was Mirage. She’d left when she was 20 and Mirage was just 15, cheeks still full with baby fat and eyes teary as she begged her big sister not to go.

“Mirage? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Did you miss me or something?”

‘Miss’ was an understatement, she was sure her sister was the only one in her family to not hate her when she came out but that hope that Anetra had that she’d reach out when she turned 18 got dimmer and dimmer as the years passed, she’d fully given up on hearing from anyone from her blood family ever again at that point.

“Miri-I-“ Anetra choked out, breath seized as she got choked up, “it’s been so long.”

“I know,” Mirage sighed and Anetra could almost picture her biting her lip on the other end, a habit she had never been able to break no matter how much their mom scolded her for it, “look, I-um-I’m sorry I never reached out, I wanted to but mom was putting me through school and-and-“

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Anetra admitted softly. She’d thought about it a lot, how she would react if she ever heard from her sister ever again and anger usually came to her mind, but hearing her sister’s voice, even muffled slightly over the phone sent all that flying out the window. “Are you still living with mom?”

Mirage laughed, bitter seeming. “No, I’m living in Vegas now. Where are you?”

“LA,” she paused, “I want to see you. Will you come visit?”

“Netra, I would love to, I just can’t afford-“

“I’ll pay for it. I’d come to you but I kind of have a family now and the baby is-“

“Hold up;a baby?! Girl, you had a baby?!”

Anetra laughed. “I didn’t carry, one of my partners did, but yes.”

“Wait? One of? You’ve got more than one?”

“Yeah, I’ve got two amazing partners,” Anetra replied, smiling to herself, “and a son, he’s about 6 months now.”

“I’ve missed so much,” Mirage sighed, “I’ll pay you back when I can but I’d really like to see you.”

“Don’t even worry about it, I’ll book a flight for as soon as possible. I-um-I love you, okay? I know it’s been so long and-“

“Netra, I love you too. I’ll see you when I can.”

**

Less than a month later, Anetra found herself at LAX, chewing on her thumbnail and pacing as she waited for Mirage at the gate.

“Darling, do you want to take Kai?” Sasha asked softly, handing the baby off to Anetra when she nodded, nuzzling her nose in his hair and letting the scent of his baby shampoo comfort her nerves.

“Don’t be nervous, Neech, she’s your sister,” Marcia said, patting her shoulder to ease the tension as people started emerging from the gate, suitcases in tow.

Anetra scanned the crowd anxiously, bouncing the baby in her arms just to keep the jitters at bay. When her eyes finally landed on her sister, she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling overv. If she didn’t have the baby in her arms she would’ve ran to her, and it seemed as if that notion was noticeable as Marcia gently took Kai from her arms, letting her run to her sister.

“Miri!” She called, running toward her and throwing herself at her sister who now towered over her.

“It’s so amazing to see you,” Anetra sniffled, holding her at an arm’s length away as she pulled apart, studying her face, “look at you, all grown up.”

Even though she had tears in her eyes too, Mirage laughed softly, “and look at you, all emotional in your old age.”

Anetra threw her head back in laughter, giddy with the feeling of being reunited with her sister. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Always,” Mirage winked, “now are you gonna be a good big sister and help me with my bags?”

“Give me your bags, you brat,” Anetra rolled her eyes lightheartedly, tugging her sister’s luggage along to where Marcia and Sasha stood, watching fondly.

After introducing Mirage to her little family and a nice dinner downtown, Anetra sat on the couch with Mirage, knees touching as they chatted about everything they’d been up to over the years. It was getting late but Anetra didn’t want the day to end.

“So,” Anetra breathed, stomach churning with nerves, figuring she might as well ask what she still wondered day in and day out, “how’s mom and everyone?”

Mirage bit her lip, appearing as if she really hadn’t kicked that habit. “She kicked me out three years ago.”

“What? Why?”

“I dropped out of college and started dancing at this little bar downtown and when she found out she told me to quit or leave, so I left. I moved to Vegas a few months later after crashing with some friends and I’ve been dancing on the strip since. I know it’s ‘dirty work’ or whatever most people think it is so I get it if you’re judging me but I really found myself on stage, you know? I really love it, getting dolled up and dancing. It’s freeing. A big change from our religious upbringing.”

Anetra nodded, she understood that more than anyone. She laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. “Yeah, I get it. I could never judge you for that, just like you were the only one who didn’t judge me when I came out,” she paused, laughing to herself in disbelief, “imagine if mom could see us now. Me, gay with two partners and a baby born out of wedlock crashing cars for money and you, a Vegas stripper.”

They looked at each other and then burst into a laughter so hard it made their stomachs hurt, making up for years of missed laughs.

“Oh man, I’m so glad I have you again,” Mirage sighed as they came down from their laughing fit, leaning her head on Anetra’s shoulder.

Anetra pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, just like she used to do when they were young and Mirage cried, only wanting comfort from her big sister. “I’m glad I have you too. Of course, I love my chosen family more than anything, but I always wished I had at least one person who shared my blood on my side.”

“I was always on your side, Netra. Always. And no matter what I always knew you were on mine.”

[tokusaatsus]

HI HI POOKIE CONGRATS ON 300!!!!! U DESERVE ALL THAT N MORE MWAH MWAH (wipes tear... they age so fast)

aside from that im here for the event aswell >:) Q R W with natsume leo and tsukasa if i may request !!!! if you dont feel up to it feel free to change the characters or ignore! congrats once again <3

SAKASAKI NATSUMI, SUOU TSUKASA & TSUKINAGA LEO + Q, R, W

warnings: mild mentions of guilt/unhealthy coping mechanisms (leo)

q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Despite Natsume’s lax personality, he’s actually quite good at remembering things. Though he may act like it slips his mind, he will never mention it ever but he’s trained himself to memorise all those important dates–like your anniversaries, birthdays, etc. He might not be as good at recalling everything about you, but he does his very best to at least keep the things that he or you deem important in mind. Your favourite food, your favourite colour, your likes and dislikes–and so on and so forth. Though it may not seem like it, he hoards all the information you tell him, treasuring every part of you that you share with him, because it comes from you. 

The minute you say something, rest assured that Tsukasa is noting it down–mentally, if not physically. A compendium of notes in a small booklet that he carries around everywhere, containing nearly everything you’ve ever told him about yourself. He takes care to memorise as much as he can–and it’s enough that, if tested, he can rattle off a rapid list of information pertaining to you. It’s cute, honestly. This is his first time being in a relationship, and Tsukasa doesn’t want you to ever feel underappreciated. He cares for you, truly, and he does his best to show it to you by paying attention. And if you remember things about him, you’re guaranteed to make him smile and blush.

When it comes to this, Leo’s funny because his brain is almost always on overdrive. He’s constantly thinking about something or the other, composing countless melodies in his head, that anything he’s told goes in one ear and out the other. Oh, sure, he tries to pay attention but, well–it’s hard. However, that’s not to say that Leo doesn’t remember anything about you, he does. It’s just… Leo’s the kind of person who doesn’t know your favourite colour, but knows the name of your third-grade teacher. He knows all your obscure knowledge. It’s endearing, really, when you think that he at least made an effort to learn about you–even if he still doesn’t know your favourite colour.

r = remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Natsume’s favourite moment is when you confessed to him. You were so cute, stuttering slightly as you told him, I like you! It had made his heart skip a beat, watching your eyes dart here and there, as though you couldn’t bear to meet his gaze–like you were afraid of rejection. But how could Natsume ever say no to you? The way you smiled tentatively as he accepted, replying to your declaration of love with a confession of his own, is something he’ll never forget. A memory that is always circling in his thoughts. Of course, it definitely helps that he got to kiss you afterwards–got to taste your chapstick and hear you giggle against his mouth.

Leo’s favourite moment is any moment when you’re paying attention to him. He likes resting his head in your lap, like a spoiled cat, while you pet his hair as he rambles to you about his day or vice versa. Just being able to spend time with you is calming to him, soothing the nervous energy that circulates through his blood, like he’s just taken a shot of espresso. When you look at him, he feels seen. He knows you’re a busy person, but that only makes it all the more special when you take time out of your schedule to be with him. Staying with you, no matter where in the world you are, is something Leo feels he could do forever and never get tired.

Tsukasa’s favourite moment is when he gets to shed the pretenses and simply be himself with you. There’s no specific scenario, to be honest. He just likes spending time with you–not as the Leader of Knights or the Suou Heir, but just… Tsukasa. Your Tsukasa. And he thinks he might like that part of him best. The one that gets to hold your hand, that gets to go on dates with you, that gets to kiss you…! Any time that he’s with you is important to him, is special to him. As long as he’s with you, he’s content. He’s happy to do anything, so long as it’s you who’s next to him as he does it. Being with you is one of the pleasures of Tsukasa’s life–one that he wouldn’t trade for anything.

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

Natsume wouldn’t necessarily feel incomplete without you. He’d feel a little empty, sure, but it’s not like it’s something time won’t fix. He’s not the kind of person to give love too much importance, so he’d be more calm about it. He’d miss you, definitely, but he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. If you ever break up, it’d take him a while to get over it, but he’d manage in the end. Natsume would try to treat you the same, and not act like there are any problems that stem from his lingering feelings, but he’d be good at putting them aside if he deems it necessary. He’d force himself not to think too much about it, only allowing himself to indulge in nostalgia when he’s feeling especially down.

For Leo, who’s the kind of person to love unconditionally and passionately and with wild abandon, he’d feel hollow. Not incomplete per se, but something similar. He’d blame himself at first–for not being good enough, for not convincing you to stay, for all those things–and he’d self-isolate. From you especially. Keeping away from the thing that hurt him, hiding himself away as much as possible. Being around you reminds him too much of how things used to be, which is a constant ache now, and Leo is a master of not dealing with things healthily. He’d probably just keep avoiding you for as long as possible, not giving any chance for either you or him to talk your issues out.

Tsukasa would feel guilty. His first relationship crumbling? And so easily? Was it…was it something he did? Not incomplete, but he’d feel awful. A sick sort of feeling, a persistent ache that won’t go away, that won’t leave him alone. Heartbreak, Narukami-senpai would tell him, a wise look on her face and Tsukasa thinks, oh. Maybe his heart is breaking…? Interactions with you after that would be awkward, because he isn’t quite sure how to treat you, other than not like a lover and not like a stranger, leading to a strange mix of overly-familiar and overly-distanced. He wants to ask you why, but he doesn’t want to ruin this carefully crafted equilibrium, so he just stays silent.

notes!

WC: 1.1k words

reze txt HI NATSUME TYSM <3 ILY ILY SM OMG !?!??! ofc u can request babyyyy i hope u enjoy ur skrunklies !! here they are !! at long last !! tysm again and mwah mwah <33

[pickledpascal]

Bewitched

Chapter Five: Collar Full

Warnings: SMUT !!! beau is the bottom (obvi)

Word Count: 3.8k

Bewitched Masterlist

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It was right after Winter Break and Kiera was up early to try and make Dalia some breakfast before she went back to school. One of her safe foods was toast with peanut butter so Kiera could always rely on that if she didn't want to make anything overly complicated. 

So she made two perfectly toasted pieces of bread and slathered them in a layer of peanut butter. Kiera took a bite of hers once Dalia’s was finished. 

“Did you know that, in Texas, if you take a cowboy hat off a cowboy and put it on your head, it means you're basically married?” Dalia appeared out of nowhere. Kiera got used to it. It had been a phenomenon since she could walk. 

Kiera set Dalia’s plate in front of her on the counter. “No, kiddo. I didn't.” She smiled softly. 

Ever since meeting Beau, Dalia had been obsessed with finding out everything she could about him and Texan traditions. Kiera was convinced Dalia was teetering on breaking her rule of not eating ethically sourced meat just to try the barbecue. That was until she realized they'd likely never travel to Texas. Dalia didn't like planes and she hated being in a car for more than a few hours. Kiera was glad Dalia was younger when they moved to Montana or else it would've been an even worse nightmare. 

Dalia dug into her toast, pursing her lips as she chewed. “You should do it to Beau.” She said before taking another bite. 

Kiera rubbed her forehead. Dalia had also been intentionally trying to get her with Beau. Not that she needed any help. In fact, it was a little funny. 

She took a sip of coffee and sighed. It wasn't her favorite cafés coffee but it'd do. Kiera wasn't going since she was able to work from home today. There was no need to leave the house just for coffee unless she was going into the office.

“Maybe I will.” Kiera smiled into her mug. 

Dalia didn't smile but her eyes held a sparkle of mischief and pride. Maybe one of her plans would work. For once. Her mother was so keen about what went on in her head that Dalia thought she had some sort of mind-reading power sometimes. 

Kiera took Dalia's plate and washed it along with her own. “Wanna get a ride to school or take the bus, sweetie?” She called over her shoulder.

“I'll take the bus.” Dalia responded. 

Kiera could hear her shifting, probably to get her backpack. Dalia was still very short. Especially compared to her mother. Kiera believed she'd be five-eight by her pre-teens. Now, though, Dalia stood at about four-five.

—----

Not knowing whatever possessed her, Kiera thought it would be nice to invite Beau over for lunch. For a surprise. She completed her work earlier than usual and she knew Beau had a lax day at work so his deputies wouldn’t mind if he had a particularly long lunch break. She hoped. Kiera wasn’t so sure about Jenny. 

She didn’t visit the precinct often. The very thought of being in a room full of cops made her skin crawl. But when Kiera did visit, the blonde was attached to Beau’s hip. Every room he was in, Jenny made sure to be in it with him. Kiera wasn’t jealous. She knew Beau loved her and her only. He was hopelessly in love and everyone could tell. That’s why Jenny tried to butt into every conversation Beau and Kiera had, sat at the edge of his desk a few times, and even offered to go out with him for drinks. Drinks were ultimately turned down to have dinner at Kiera’s house as he listened to Dalia talk about mythological creatures or whatever kind of lore she was obsessed with that week. 

“Hey, darlin’! I got sandwiches from that diner you—” Beau’s words were cut off at the sight of Kiera sitting with her legs crossed on the couch. He nearly dropped the two boxes of food he had in his hands.

Kiera herself looked normal. Oh, except for she was in nothing except for black, lacy lingerie. Her hair was in its naturally straightened state but it looked so different against her exposed skin. Beau had barely even seen her exposed shoulder. Seeing all this new skin made him feel like a Victorian man who caught a glimpse of a woman’s ankle. He noticed the small silver piercing on her belly button. So his suspicion was right. Kiera did have piercings elsewhere beside her face and ears. The new question became if she had one in a lower spot.

Kiera had to suppress a laugh at Beau’s reaction. He was like a deer in headlights. She took the food from his hands and set it on a nearby table before she tapped on Beau’s cowboy hat. He had a few he rotated through. This one was a deep brown color that had a black sash wrapped around the base of the crown. She smirked at Beau as she took it off his head and put it on hers. Beau swallowed thickly, wide-eyed as he watched the movement. 

“Hey, cowboy,” She smirked as she wrapped her arms around Beau’s waist and pulled him close. Kiera pressed her lips to his. That was all it took to unfreeze him. His arms found their way to her neck as he leaned into her lips. “Missed me?” She pulled away with a breath.

Beau chased after her lips. “You have no idea,” He breathed as he tipped the hat back for better access. As if he had a moment of clarity, he stopped himself while Kiera got her lips acquainted with his neck. “Darlin’—fuck—I still have work.” He reminded softly. The reminder was for himself. He knew if he ended up in bed with Kiera he wouldn’t want to leave.

“I know,” Kiera whispered into his ear. “But I think the sheriff is entitled to have a little break every once in a while.” She pushed Beau’s jacket off his shoulders as she sucked a few bruises onto his neck. Ones that he wouldn’t be able to hide with any kind of shirt or jacket unless he wanted to invest in a scarf. 

Kiera might be a territorial lover. She wanted Jenny to see them and hopefully get the message Beau wasn’t hers for the taking. 

Beau let out a low whine, only spurring Kiera on more. “Darlin’, we need—” He drew in a sharp breath as Kiera bit underneath his jaw. “Your bedroom?” 

It had been so long since he had sex. He wasn’t the type to have one-night stands or friends-with-benefits kind of relationships. He wanted to do it right with Kiera. Not on her couch, which was comfortable, but not nearly as comfortable as he imagined they would feel on her bed. 

She must’ve forgotten about that part, a little too lost in desire. Kiera pursed her lips as she took Beau’s hand and guided him up to her room. It was the first time Beau had seen her room even after the countless times he’d been to her house.

The room wasn’t too different from the rest of the house except for the black walls, a few handmade dreamcatchers above her bed, and the velvet drapes over her windows. Without the lights on, Beau imagined it would look a little horrifying and hard to navigate. However, with a few nicely placed lamps that emitted warm light, Beau knew he’d love to get his brain melted by Kiera. If that’s what she wanted. 

Beau would do anything as long as Kiera wanted it. 

Pulling Beau back into reality, he could feel her fingertips underneath his shirt. He helped her take it off, pulling it from his head as Kiera’s hands spread across his stomach. He didn’t realize just how big her hands were until that moment. Her hand lifted to his shoulder as he turned in her arms.

“Your whole body is freckled.” Kiera breathed, admiring the dots on his shoulders as if they were stars in the night sky. Among the freckles, she noticed a few tattoos she had never seen before on his bicep and chest. She honestly didn't expect Beau to be inked. She'd ask about those later. 

Her hands lowered to Beau’s belt. Her dark eyes flicked up to his. “Little help?” She didn’t have much experience unbuckling the kinds of belts Beau wore—he nearly always had a hefty silver with a Texas Longhorn engraved on it. 

Beau chuckled softly as he unbuckled it with ease and slipped it from his jeans with one hand. He dropped it as Kiera dove in for another kiss, cupping his face as she stepped forward. He stepped backward. The back of his knees met the mattress, causing him to fall with her on top. 

“Shit.” Beau breathed while Kiera wasted no time to work his jeans open. The cowboy hat hung onto the edge of the bed once it fell from her head.

Kiera let out a small laugh, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you swear, cowboy,” She slid his jeans off his legs with ease before she crawled back up his body. “You should do it more often.” She whispered into his ear.

Beau couldn’t respond, afraid of what would come out of his mouth if he did. So he opted for another, deeper kiss. Kiera let out a small noise of satisfaction against his lips and Beau tried his best to memorize it. He didn’t know when this would be able to happen again. 

He had quite a few dreams of what it would be like to have sex with Kiera. Some of them ended up with him in the shower with his dick in his fist as he imagined fucking Kiera. Or sometimes, the other way around. She was fairly open about her genitalia with him. Likely because she thought he’d care and end their relationship. He didn’t care. Not in the way Kiera thought he would.

Kiera rolled over so she was on the bed and pulled Beau over her lap so he straddled her waist. He let out a surprised noise at the movement. “Now this is the position I want you in, cowboy.” She hummed. Her bra was discarded and Beau didn't have enough time to admire the new skin as a hand slipped under the fabric of his boxers on his thigh. 

Beau sucked in his bottom lip as he lifted his hips to take off his boxers. He was so desperate for Kiera that it almost made her laugh—if only she wasn't just as desperate for him. Her hands immediately went to his hips once he was fully naked. He devoured Kiera's lips in a hot kiss as his hands roamed all over her body. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Kiera sighed against Beau's lips, pulling away. “I know you need me but,” His lips almost stuck out into a pout. He didn't feel like waiting. “You need to be prepped okay? Especially cause this is your first time.” She reasoned softly.

Beau watched as Kiera opened the drawer to her nightstand to grab some lube. “What makes you think this is my first time?”

The face Kiera made at the comment needed to go in a museum. She quickly collected herself and replaced her expression with a smirk. “Well, you haven't had me yet? Now have you?” 

Beau swallowed thickly as he shook his head. In the back of his mind, he was aware of the bulge he was sitting on. It was hidden underneath the lace of her underwear. He ground his hips down on it to get a better feel. Beau’s legs tensed slightly. Even covered, albeit thinly covered, he could feel how big she was.

“Rethinking your choices?” Kiera asked softly.

Beau shook his head. “No. I want you inside me. More than I did before,” He admitted. “Please. I—” He was cut off by a lubed finger pressing inside him. He didn't curse but he was surprised, the wind knocked out of him for a second. 

“Continue. You were on the verge of begging,” Kiera smirked, pressing a kiss to a newly formed hickey. “I liked it.”

Spurred on by her words, Beau let out a soft whine as Kiera added a second finger to stretch him properly. “I need your cock, darlin’, so fucking much.” He wanted to move his hips against her fingers but her spare hand kept him in place. She was strong and he wouldn't be surprised if she could press him up against a wall and have her way with him. “God, fuck!” Her fingers curled in just the right way. “Fuck, I've dreamed about this.” Beau sighed. The words left his mouth before he could think about them. 

Kiera cocked a pierced eyebrow. She added a third finger that made Beau let out a soft whimper. “What did you dream about? Can't just leave a girl hanging, sweetheart.” She teased.

“I-I imagined,” Beau took a deep breath as Kiera moved her hand so her fingers could thrust in and out of him. “Your cock inside me. M-Making me feel amazing,” Trying to remember his dream was getting hazy, too caught up in what he was feeling. “You were deep. You bent me over my desk. Pulling on my hair. You tried to keep me quiet. You–fuck!–even gagged me with a scarf for good measure. I—ah—had a long shower thinking about it.”

Kiera hummed softly and leaned upward to kiss Beau. He had a feeling she would keep that in the back of her mind for later. “I like that idea too,” She removed her fingers but before Beau could whine about the loss, she cut him off. “Take off my underwear, sweetheart.”

Eagerly, Beau did as asked. Like he expected, Kiera was large but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. And the piercing on her tip—that made his mind reel with anticipation. He wanted to know how it would feel. Thankfully, he was about to know. He licked his lips at the sight of her completely bare. Completely bare and underneath him. The rise and fall of her chest, her parted lips, her dark eyes that somehow looked darker, her hair that somehow still looked immaculate and not tousled. She looked perfect. 

Kiera lifted Beau's hips and let him slowly sit down, her cock slipping inside him. He screwed his eyes shut for a moment as she bottomed out. Yeah, that piercing was a welcome addition. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, reveling in this feeling. Beau couldn't remember the last time he had done something like this. He just knew it had been a while. A long while.

“That's a good boy.” Kiera murmured, caressing his hip bone with her thumb. She still couldn't believe the miles and miles of freckled skin Beau had. Every single inch of him donned the little dots. Some were more apparent than others, bigger, and darker while others were more faint. 

Beau’s thighs clenched underneath Kiera's touch at her words. “Fuck.” He breathed softly.

Kiera looked up at Beau, a bit surprised he liked her comment. She wasn't sure he'd like that. In fact, she didn't think he'd like to be the bottom in the equation. That wasn't to say she would always top but from the way Beau was looking at her, she had a feeling he enjoyed this a lot. 

“You wanna ride, cowboy?” Kiera’s hands moved to capture Beau's so he could balance correctly. And so he had something to hold onto. 

Beau licked his bottom lip as he looked down at Kiera. “I think the song goes: save a horse, ride a cowboy. Not save a horse, get a cowboy to ride you,” He teased softly, only making her smile wider. “But I think,” He rolled his hips and her lips dropped open. “I can make an exception.” 

Kiera's jaw tightened as she looked up at Beau, squeezing his hands as he started to move properly. He couldn't believe his eyes. Her dark stare. It looked like she would eat him if she could. And the small blemishes across her skin. Her strong hands. The muscle in her arms and abs and her light, feathery noises just—God. It was all so perfect for him. She was amazing. Everything he could have ever asked for. 

“That's it,” Kiera breathed, eyes scanning Beau's body until they fixated on his blissed out face. “So good, sweetheart.” She wanted to feel up his thighs more but she knew Beau would prefer holding onto her hands like a lifeline instead. Maybe next time. 

Beau couldn't help the noises coming from his lips. His brain felt like it was on fire and his body felt wonderful. The aches in his muscles didn't matter. Chasing his high did. Chasing his high on Kiera's dick was the best part of it. Her cock, her bed, her house. He wanted her to own him. He didn't voice it. His lips were too caught up with whimpering and moaning with each drop of his hips. 

He couldn't help but feel like this was everything he had ever wanted. And more. 

Kiera adjusted her hips slightly so her cock drove in a different angle. The angle was perfect to hit his prostate. Beau let out a sudden, loud moan at the change. Certainly more. 

“Fuck! Ah–Kiera—” Beau choked on his own words. He felt like he couldn't breathe. His lungs were screaming for air. “Fuck, baby, I—” He didn't register what he was saying. Words just jumbled out of him. 

“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” Kiera asked. She was more collected than Beau but he was still able to hear her harbored breaths and soft, pleasured noises. She was just intrinsically less vocal than he was. Beau let out a low whine, lips slightly ajar as he nodded. “Use your words.” 

He nearly choked on air. Beau had to collect himself while Kiera stared at him with a knowing look and a ghost of a smirk on her face. She knew how she affected him. “Yes,” He finally said, “Please, baby, fuck—” Kiera bucked her hips upward and forced a moan out of him. “Please! I-I need you. Need to. Fuck—so bad.” 

“Need to what?” Kiera challenged softly. She set Beau's hands on her stomach and moved hers to settle on his hips. Fuck next time. She wanted to hold his body.

“Need to—ah—cum on your cock!” Beau moaned, losing any restraint he had left. He turned into a common whore. He couldn't care less. He was focused on Kiera and the way she felt inside him. 

The delicious drag of in and out. The feel of her hands on his body, her fingers digging into his skin. He wished she would be able to leave a print there to remind him of her while he was by himself. A reminder of who he belonged to. Who he loved. 

Fuck, he loved Kiera. 

Kiera pulled Beau down until he was a few inches away from her face. “Then do it.” She pushed her lips against his in a fierce kiss. 

He moaned against her, leaning into her touch as he felt his orgasm build and build until he came. The tension in his body released and he had to do everything he could not to just collapse on top of Kiera. She pecked Beau's cheek and then peppered a few kisses on his jaw. 

After a few moments of painting, Beau looked up at her. “You, uh—You didn't cum.” He swallowed. Beau still felt dangerously hot. But he also is a courteous lover. He could still feel Kiera hard inside him. He also knew she was close. There was a look in her eyes, her bated breath, the way she held onto him like a lifeline. 

“I didn't,” Kiera confirmed. The edges of her lips threatened to form a smile. “Do you wanna change that?” She asked in a whisper. Her hands lowered to rest on Beau's thighs. And he wasn't sure that his brain could malfunction more, though it did. 

Beau nodded wordlessly, his bottom lip jutted out. He was sore, but not terribly, so he pushed himself up to straddle Kiera properly again. “C'mon, darlin’, I wanna feel it,” He breathed as he rolled his hips. She let out a sharp breath. “Please, darlin—” His voice was slipping more and more into his native Texas accent. He was plenty sensitive after he came. “I need a reminder of you, fuck!” He whimpered as she thrust her hips into his. 

“That's what you want?” Kiera asked lowly, licking her teeth. For the first time, Beau noticed a metal bulb on her tongue. 

His mind was too busy reveling in pleasure but the sight was tucked into the back of his mind for later. His throat pushed out an “Uh-huh” as he rode her, thighs tense and sore and he knew he wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for a while but he couldn't have cared less. 

“Ah—fuck!” Kiera hissed softly, head leaning back into her pillow as she came. She drew in a shaky breath as Beau relished in the feeling of her inside him. 

Beau breathed heavily, his mouth was dry as he looked down at Kiera's blissed-out and sweaty face. He knew he didn't look much different. He brushed a hand through her hair while her hands ran up and down his thighs. The touch was maddening. And almost made him want to go again. 

Almost.

“I'm hungry now… thanks for bringing food.” Kiera hummed softly, leaning up to bring Beau into a kiss. 

——

Beau stepped into the County Sheriff's department, hair a little messier than this morning but otherwise he looked the same. Minus the cowboy hat he wore earlier. 

Mo met him as he neared his office. “Have a good lunch?” He asked smugly before he got serious, “We got an update on the Neighborhood Killer.” He handed Beau a file as he followed him into his office. 

Going into work mode, Beau flipped open the file on his desk and sat down. He hissed and immediately stood back up to notice Jenny came into the room. She looked at him weirdly. He coughed as he glanced down at the file. 

Another murder. Near Kiera too. 

Beau pursed his lips. He really hoped Kiera was safe. He didn't want Kiera to be in danger. He tried his best to reassure himself that nothing would happen.

-------

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Afterthoughts

Mike Duarte x reader

It had been a rough couple of days at the station. Mike hadn’t been able to come home and had instead slept in his office.

But after the run in with the gang he was investigating, where he was inches away from being killed, he was definitely taking some time off.

He called his ex wife while driving over, asking if he could please see the kids. “I’m not sure Miguel—“

“Please Fran, I need to see them. I’ve—I almost didn’t make it home tonight—I need to see them, please.”

“Oh my god—what happened?!” She could barely hide the fear in her voice.”

“Someone trying to use a machete too—it’s not important. Can I please have them tonight? We can bring them home in the morning.”

He thought of you, cooking dinner in your shared apartment, waiting for him to come home finally, like he had promised via text earlier.

“Yeah. I’ll get them ready. You’re picking them up right?”

He agreed and said he was already on his way. 

~~~

Once he got there Marisol and August ran into his open arms, hugging him tightly. And he in return hugged them just as tightly. “Oh how I’ve missed you both.” He hummed, picking them up.

“I packed for a few days so they can stay with you. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Thank you Fran, honestly.”

She smiled at him and nodded.

After a few goodbyes, Mike helped the kids into their seats and they drove back home.

~~~

He had called you on the way home to tell you what was gonna happen. So when he parked you were already waiting at the door for them. 

“Mama!!” The kids called in unison, running to you.

“Hey bubbas!” Kneeling as they came running you picked them both up, hugging them and kissing their foreheads.

You took one look at Mike’s ragged features and told him to go lay down while you finished dinner.

“But—“

“No. You need rest, darling. You’re not looking too hot.”

He let out a low sigh, walking up the steps to kiss you, and then went past to go inside.

“Just leave their stuff at the door, I’ll take it darling.”

~~~

Just as dinner was about to be served, Mike came back out of your room, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“How are you feeling darling?”

“Better.”

He picked up August and carried him to the table to put him in his chair. Then he got Marisol, putting her next to her brother.

You placed the plates down, kissing the top of the kids’ heads, then gave Mike a soft kiss, murmuring “I love you” against his lips.

As you all sat there eating, you couldn’t help but study him. Mike had been pretty lax in his explanation of what had happened. But you got t the gist of it. During an altercation he had been separated from the others, and then attacked.

He caught you looking at him and gave you a soft smile, «I’m alright amor.»

 But he had almost not been. And the thought would haunt you.

Making up your mind about talking to him when the kids had gone to bed, you went back to eating your food.

~~~

As soon as the kids were out, Mike wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly.

«Talk to me darling. I need to know what happened.»

«I can’t—not yet. Please, let’s just go to bed.» He sounded exhausted.

Tears slipped down your face, but you couldn’t fight him. It was his tale to tell, in his own time.

«Yeah, let’s get some sleep.»

He dipped his head to kiss you, your tears and his mixing together.

The last thing you said to each other was a soft «I love you.»

~~~

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