#thank you for the ask :) these make me so happy so i appreciate it!!

[vettelsvee]

letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win

(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm

V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭

WORD COUNT: 3958

WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.  

Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.  

"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"  

Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.  

"Yeah," was all he could say.  

"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.  

"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.  

"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"

Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.  

"Hey… I have something for you."

Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.  

Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.  

"Open it… I hope you like it!"

Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.  

"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.  

Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.  

"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."

You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.  

Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.  

Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.  

"Oscar…" 

"Y/N…"

"I want to do it."

Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.  

"Bebe…" 

"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."  

Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.  

Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.  

"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…" 

"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."

"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.  

You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.  

"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”

"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.  

"I promise, really."

Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.  

Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.  

You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.  

Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.  

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"

"I will, yeah."  

You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…  

*"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.  

"I love you too, Y/N…" 

With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.  

Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.  

Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.

Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.

“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.

“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“So...?”

“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.

“Y/N…”

“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”

You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.

“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”

Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.

“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.

His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.

“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.

That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.

“Y/N…”

His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you. 

“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”

“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”

“Do you promise me, love?”

“I swear.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.

Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.

When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.

“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.

“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.

He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.

You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.

It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.

“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”

And so you did.

Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.

The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.

“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”

“Oscar, don't…”

“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”

After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance. 

You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.

·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”

You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.

He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.

“Y/N…”

“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”

The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.

“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”

“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”

“Never for you, sweetheart.”

Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.

“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”

“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.

·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”

You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.

You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.

“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”

“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you. 

Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths. 

“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”

It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.

“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.

You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.

“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”

“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.

“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”

Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.

“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”

The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.

·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.

“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.

You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.

“You don't have to…”

“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”

Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.

When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.

“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”

“Was it good?”

Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder. 

”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”

You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.

“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”

Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.

“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”

[chrishme]

Amazing | Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary: you comfort billie after her recent loss at the grammies.

warning: crying, that’s it. pure fluff other than that.

a/n: i know this is really really short but this is how i cope lmao my poor girl deserved so much better :(

•·.·''·.·•*ੈ✩‧₊˚.ೃ࿐*ೃ༄·˚ ༘ˏˋ°•*⁀➷⋆·˚ ༘

You were heartbroken, to say the least. Watching your girlfriend cry at the Grammies wasn't on your 2025 bingo card, and your heart ached for her. The night was magical at first, with you and Billie posing for camera's on the red carpet, both of you backstage getting ready for her performance, the happy smiles and quick kisses before running off onto the stage.

But every time her name wasn't called onto the stage later in the night, you can see your girlfriends smile falter more and more. Billie was a good sport however, and definitely wouldn't express her disappointment, especially with the camera's watching her every move.

The Grammies after party was nice, you and Billie danced together and managed to meet up with a few friends at the party, but you could still tell the loss from earlier that night was weighing heavy on her.

The two of you parted ways with Finneas and Claudia, Finneas making sure to give his sister an extra hug along with words of reassurance before going home. The ride up the elevator to you and Billie's shared apartment was silent, and you couldn't wait to be behind closed doors to hug and comfort her. As soon as the door to the apartment closed, you turn and she sulks into your arms, wrapping them around your waist, head on your chest.

You two stood there for a moment, and you run a hand through her hair and place a kiss on her forehead. It's not until moments later that you hear sniffles escaping from Billie, and your heart pangs at the noise.

"Bils?" You voice comes out in a whisper, trying to make her say something, anything. A moment passes by and Billie's ocean blue orbes finally meet your own. Your thumb runs over a stray tear that stains her cheek. "Are you okay?" You know it's a stupid question to ask, but you need to know what was going on in that pretty head of her's.

She nods at your words, sniffling. You bring her into you again, rubbing circles along her back. You knew she loved it when you did, and soon enough her body begins to calm against your own. "Your performance was amazing." You whisper out to her, kissing her forehead. "Thanks baby." She responds back, appreciating your efforts to make her feel better. She pulls away, and you grab her by the chin, making her look into her eyes.

"Bils, you worked so hard on this album and I know how much it meant for you to win, but just because you didn't doesn't make you or the album any less amazing."

She can tell your words are genuine by the look on your face. She manages a smile, and you can't help but mirror one back to her. She grabs your cheek and gives you a gentle kiss. You kiss back, fingers lacing in her hair. "I love you." She says, smiling against your lips. You always knew how to make her feel better. You smile back, "I love you too, Billie."

She rest her forehead against yours, breathing in your scent, finally feeling somewhat at peace for the first time that night, embraced in your arms. "Ya'know, if it were up to me, you would have won everything." You say with a smile. She smiles back at you, letting out a little laugh. "I know, baby. I know."

•·.·''·.·•*ੈ✩‧₊˚.ೃ࿐*ೃ༄·˚ ༘ˏˋ°•*⁀➷⋆·˚ ༘

[hopepunk-humanity]

If you’ve sent me an appreciative ask and haven’t seen it published, I promise I saw it and greatly appreciated it. I get enough of them now that it feels almost egotistical to respond to all of them (plus I imagine it clogs up other people's dashes/drowns out other asks).

I've taken to pasting them into a personal google doc, so I can read them when I'm feeling helpless or like I'm not doing anything meaningful.

Truly, thank you so much for sending them, it makes me so happy to know that what I'm doing here is really resonating with people.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Everything that I Wanted (1)

Eddie Munson x F!Reader / Billy Hargrove x F!Reader 

Word Count: 4.2k 

Synopsis: Love triangle between your best friend Eddie and your first boyfriend, Billy Hargrove that spans over many years as you get everything you think you ever wanted. However, your life doesn’t play out how you expected it, starting from the first time you’re asked out on a date. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; sexual themes, language, depictions of a toxic relationship (manipulation & isolation from peers) 

A/N: Comments & Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much @munsonsmixtapes @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours for letting me talk to you about this fic ilysm

You were so excited, practically sprinting down the hallways towards the cafeteria. Your bag hits against your back at every step. You feel like you’re on top of the world. You can’t remember the last time you were this indescribably happy. You felt like you could practically float. 

Walking into the cafeteria, you take your usual seat with the rest of Hellfire Club, blending in with your matching shirts. You slide into your seat between your best friends- Gareth and Edde. You take a moment to catch your breath as you shrug off your backpack. 

Gareth has been best friends with you since middle school, and you both became best friends with Eddie when you met him your freshman year, when he was a sophomore. You were inseparable from the entirety of Hellfire, but you and Eddie were very close. 

“What’s got you so worked up? Eddie asked, noticing how flustered you seemed to be when you all but fell into your seat. A smile spreads across his face, like it usually does, at your antics. Amusement is apparent in his eyes as he observes you- you never seem to notice how he looks at you like that. 

“I just got asked out,” you squeal, unable to contain your excitement. You couldn’t believe it had actually happened. It was something you had come to accept would never happen to you. But suddenly, it’s like the world has opened itself up to you. You were so happy, giddy and lovesick already getting swooped up in the romance of it all. 

Gareth congratulates you, happy for you as he pats your back. His eyes drift to Eddie, and the two exchange a knowing look. It was Hellfire’s best kept secret how Eddie felt about you. Everyone except you knew how Eddie was pretty much in love with you and has been, since the two of you met. It was obvious to all of your friends- except to you. 

You didn’t think you were the type any guy would notice. You were never the one that guys tended to see. It was something you longed for, you craved to be noticed- to be truly seen. You’d wanted to experience everything that you felt you were missing. You wanted the high school experience of your first date, your first kiss, a cute guy asking for your number. You never thought it was in the cards for you- so when it finally happened, you were overjoyed.

“Who’s the guy?” Jeff asked with an eyebrow raised. You’re taking your lunch out of your bag so you miss the way Jeff looks at Eddie and how Eddie’s shoulder slump dejectedly. 

“Billy Hargrove,” you exclaim, your cheeks turning warm remembering back on the events that took place a few moments ago. “The guy with the really cool Camaro,” you gush. You don’t miss how the table falls silent. “What is it?” You ask, your face falling. “I thought you all would be excited for me…”

Gareth clears his throat, the first one in the group willing to speak up. “It’s not that we aren’t happy that you got asked out…,” Gareth begins, making sure to choose his words carefully. “It’s just that… Well, Billy doesn’t have a reputation for being a nice guy…”

Your heart sits heavy in your chest at Gareth’s words. It’s a truth you don’t want to acknowledge. Billy was known to go after every girl, and you knew this. But it just felt so different to you- like maybe you’re the one to be the exception. You wanted to feel wanted so desperately that you can imagine, even if just for a little while, that you’re different. You know deep down that you’re not- but you don’t want to admit it. 

“You guys didn’t hear him just now,” you try to explain, coming to his defense. “He was so sweet when it was just us.” He was, he told you everything he knew you wanted to hear- because that was what he was good at. He knew how to get what he wanted, and he read you like the back of a book. Unfortunately, you were longing for something tangible and real- you refused to acknowledge the signs.

“Is it that hard to imagine that he might actually like me?” you ask, your voice failing you as it cracks. “Maybe I’m different- is that so impossible? Am I that undateable?”

The way you speak down about yourself causes Eddie’s heart to beak. He wishes you saw yourself the way he saw you. He holds back so many things he just doesn’t have the courage to say- especially as you seem so wrapped up in Billy Hargrove. 

“Sweetheart, it’s not that,” Eddie interjects, before you spiral too much. “You’re amazing- any guy can see that… It’s just Billy- he doesn’t.. He’s just- not the type of guy to want anything serious…” 

“He was just trying to butter you up,” Gareth says, more direct and maybe more harsh than he intends to be. “He’ll get what he wants from you and then dump you. He’s only being nice to try to get into your pants- he’s a player and he’s using you.”

Gareth's words sting, because you are so deep in denial and don’t want to accept the truth about Billy. You think that Billy is your only chance to actually date someone- no one else having shown interest in you before. 

“Maybe he does want something real, with me,” you say with a hopeful voice. “I already told him yes…” you admit softly, “we’re going to the drive-in on Saturday night. He sounded like he was really excited about it.”

“I’m sure he was,” Eddie says, an underlying bitterness evident in his tone. Grant elbows him, silently telling him to ‘cut it out.’Eddie concedes when he sees how his tone affected you. 

“I’d rather put myself out there at the risk of getting hurt than experiencing nothing at all,” you say, pointedly towards Eddie. His eyes widen at the tone, but he knows he deserves it. “Billy is the first guy to ask me out- ever! I don’t know if I’ll get the opportunity again- I’m not exactly the kind of girl guys ever seem to notice. It feels really good when someone does. Sue me.”

Eddie wants to scream, jump on top of the cafeteria table and put on his usual theatrics to tell you how he feels. He’s noticed you, he’s wanted you- he should be the one taking you out, not Billy. 

“He said I was the prettiest girl he’s ever seen,” you say, and feel embarrassed as the words roll off your tongue. Your face falls. You think that someone finally likes you. Why couldn’t your friends be happy for you? You get up, leaving your lunch behind as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “I got to go, I wanna get to class early so I can study before my quiz,” you lie, poorly making an excuse so you can get up from the table. 

Eddie watches you walk out, and he wishes he had the courage to chase after you. But he didn’t. 

“We can’t let her go out with that douchebag,” Gareth states, snapping Eddie out of his thoughts. The table all agrees with Gareth- that they need to talk you out of it. However, Eddie knows you best and your mind is already made up. Nothing that your friends could say would make you change your mind. He was right.

Saturday night rolls around before he knows it, and Eddie is just full of absolute dread. He paces in his room, music blaring. He doesn’t want you to go- he knows how this ends, and all he wants to do is protect you. But- this is what you want, and who is he to deny you that? You wanted the experience- the guy with the cool car, the guy who knew all the right things to say… Eddie couldn’t give you any of that. He felt hopeless. 

The sound of the phone startles him, snapping him out of his train of thought. 

“Eddie it’s me,” you say, propping the phone receiver up on your elbow so you could hold outfits up to you in the mirror. 

“H-hey,” he says, surprised to be hearing from you. “Aren’t you supposed to be out on your date?”

“Not yet. Eddie- I know you hate him. But, I need your opinion on what to wear,” you say, a little frantic and toss another option that you decide is hideous onto the mountain of clothes you’ve made on your bed. 

Eddie wipes his face with his hand- this is the last thing he should be doing. He shouldn’t be talking to you about a date with another guy (who’s an asshole by the way), or discussing with you what you should wear to impress him. It hurts too much. For a brief moment, he can’t help but imagine if it were him- would you be calling Gareth for advice? What would you pick out for him? Eddie can’t help it as his mind wanders. 

“What are the options?” He asks, knowing it’s better not to fight it. He takes a seat on his bed as he hears you moving hangers around. 

“The black dress I wore to Gareth’s birthday party last year- you know, the short-ish one and I’d probably wear my jean jacket with it,” You bite your lip trying to envision the look. Eddie knows exactly which dress you’re referring to, and it makes him want to evaporate. The idea of you wearing that dress for Billy makes his blood boil. 

“Might be a little fancy for a movie,” he suggests, being honest but also not disclosing the real reasons why he wouldn’t want you to wear that dress. “What else?”

“I might have another dress,” you muse, looking through your closet. “Uh, maybe not, actually- but, I have my Levi’s and maybe that lace shirt I have that looks like Madonna?”

“Maybe something a little simpler?” He suggests. “Pick something comfortable- you don’t wanna wear something tight for the whole movie.” 

“The other idea was my white sweater- the ones with the little heart buttons and maybe my jean skirt? I could wear my Chucks with it…”

“I think that’s the one you should go with,” Eddie says, honestly. He knows that outfit well- it’s one that you wear a lot. Secretly, it’s always been one of his favorites, but he’ll never admit it out loud. 

“Thanks, Eddie,” you reply and Eddie can hear you smile through the phone. He thinks his heart might beat completely out of his chest. “Can I call you when I get home after?” you ask, a little apprehensive. There’s an unspoken tension neither of you are willing to acknowledge. You think it’s just because Eddie  and the others don’t want you to go out with Billy- and this is true. But the truth is much more complicated than you are aware of as Eddie tries to hold back his feelings for you. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a contented sigh. You feel relief wash over you. 

“I’ll call you as soon as I get home!” you reply, giddy in anticipation. You say goodbye quickly and hang up the phone so you can get dressed. It was almost 7:00pm so Billy was going to be there any minute. 

At 6:55pm, you begin anxiously waiting by the front door, trying to calm your nerves by breathing deeply and slowly. At 7:02pm, you're pacing and peeking out from between the blinds everytime you think you see headlights. At 7:13, you’re telling yourself that maybe you got the time wrong and he actually said 7:30pm. At 7:17pm, you’re sitting on the steps in the foyer- your leg bouncing up and down to rid yourself of your anxious energy. At 7:24pm, dread swells up inside you, maybe he’s not coming. At 7:32, you hear the car horn and Billy’s car waits for you in your driveway. 

For a brief moment, you feel yourself pout. It wasn’t a big deal, but you thought that he’d come up the front steps and knock when he came to pick you up. And for a brief moment, you’re reminded that Eddie always does- even the one time your house hadn’t been shoveled yet and he walked up to the house through the snow and the legs of his jeans were soaked- but that's Eddie. You tell yourself that it's old fashioned to expect a guy to come to the door so you shake the thoughts away. You have the same feeling of disappointment bubbling up to the surface again, when he doesn’t walk around the car to get the door for you. You tell yourself to drop it, no one does that anymore- you need to lower your expectations. 

You wonder how someone who drives so fast could be so late- thinking to yourself as Billy sped out of your driveway and down your block before you managed to get your seatbelt on. You tell yourself you’re being too judgmental, and that you need to lighten up. You remind yourself about what you want to focus on. It’s Saturday night, and you’re on a date with one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen and he’s stealing glances at you with his really, really pretty blue eyes. 

Billy brought you to a slasher movie, thinking you’d hate it. He expected you to cuddle up to him, hide your face in his shoulder… perfect opportunities for him to get you closer. He doesn’t expect you to be really into it. He watches you watch the movie, and he’s a little taken aback. Who goes to the drive-in and actually watches the movie? You apparently. 

“You’re so far away, Princess,” Billy remarks. You’re still sitting on the opposite side of the bench seat as you’d been watching the movie. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness when he practically tells you that he wants you close. 

“Oh,” you realize, your voice soft. The sound of his voice pulling you away from the movie just long enough to slide closer to him. Billy wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he thought it was adorable- the way you slide over to him, your eyes not leaving the movie. He lifts up his right arm and rests it across the backs of the seats, effectively wrapping his arm around you when it slings down over your shoulder. 

Inside you’re freaking out a little bit- not necessarily because it was Billy who had his arm around you, but because this was a moment you’d imagined happening to you so many times. He was so handsome, and popular- so many things, and he wanted you. He wanted you closer so he could wrap his arm around you. The feeling of being desirable made butterflies swarm in your stomach. 

“You aren’t scared, Princess?” Billy asks, his lips right by your ear, and his left hand settling on your thigh right at the edge of your skirt. You couldn’t see his smirk, thinking he knows how it plays out. Like it has a million times before with him. He plans on having you in the backseat any moment now. 

“Not really,” you shrug, a giggle escaping your lips as his hair tickles your neck. “I love scary movies,” you volunteer, sharing something about yourself. Billy doesn’t do that- he won’t offer up something even if that simple. “What about you?” You ask, and it takes him back. 

“Uh, yeah,” Billy says, not sure how to react to you. This isn’t how this works. He wasn’t here for conversation. He wanted to kiss you, slide his hands up your sweater and find those cute little heart buttons on the floor of his car a few weeks from now. He wanted to keep letting his hand on your thigh slide up further, see what your panties look like. 

You can’t help but feel disappointed at his answer. You were expecting more than just a one word response. Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get to know each other? You hate how the silence is heavy in the car. You having a fleeting thought about Eddie- if he was here, you’d both be making fun of the terrible effects and chatting about everything and nothing the whole time. You redirect your focus back to the movie, thinking maybe Billy doesn’t want to miss anything you reason. 

“Did you know how they got it to look like that?” You lean over and ask Billy, and then you offer some information on how the special effects in the movie work. Billy looks over at you, wide eyed. Partially because, one- he’s surprised that you’re trying to talk to him, he’s not used to that and two- he’s actually surprised that he’s interested in what you have to say, and he’s enjoying listening to you talk. It stirs a feeling in him that he doesn’t recognize and it’s one he will refuse to let out. But, in the moment- just you and him in his car, he lets himself enjoy you and what you’re saying. 

A little while later, there is one scene that’s a particularly gore-filled jump scare and Billy can feel you become startled. He can’t help himself watching you watch the movie. He gently tugs you a little closer to his side like he’s wanted to all night. When he feels your body relax, he decides the moment is right. 

He slowly guides his left hand to your cheek and tilts your face up to his, resting your chin on his index finger. He can feel goosebumps on your arm where his other hand is wrapped around your shoulders. He revels in the feeling of being the one to have this effect on you. 

You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you realize that Billy is leaning in to kiss you. He was so close to you and it was dizzying. This was exactly how you imagined your first kiss to be. The anticipation was infuriating as he took his time leaning in, smirking at the way you react to him. It was all almost too much. 

Until it actually happens. It’s objectively a good kiss- a great kiss. It’s exactly how you picture your first kiss. It’s textbook. And Billy is a good kisser, and his lips are so soft and his cologne smells so good. But, you’re disappointed- the infamous spark you hoped to feel just isn’t there. You blame yourself, having built up this moment so much in your head. You feel so foolish, expecting it to be this earth shattering feeling- but it’s just a kiss. You tell yourself that it’s perfect. 

Kissing you makes Billy’s head spin. He tries his best to not focus on it, he hates the fact the taste of your vanilla chapstick makes his knees feel weak. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. He tries his best to keep his thoughts at bay but he can’t do anything to calm the way his heart pounds in his chest being pulled in close to you. He’s addicted, and his urge to make you his- and only his- pollutes his entire consciousness. He doesn’t want anyone else but him to know you like this. This is something he wants to lock away just for him.  

He’s never been jealous or possessive like this- not for a girl before. Anxiety bottles up inside him thinking about losing you, not being able to kiss you like this. He wants this all just for him. The idea of your lips on someone else’s makes him see red. No one else can have you is all he can think about when your breathy little moans hit his ears. Suddenly, he’s petrified that you’re gonna slip away and there’s so much more that he wants. He’s never felt so overwhelmed from a kiss before. 

A loud scene in the movie snaps you both back to reality. The sudden sound playing through the speaker makes you jump, startling back away from the heated kiss. Billy first instinct is to be annoyed, but he finds himself instead- amused. He strangely finds it endearing, and suddenly, the brief emotion evaporated as he looks at you. He’s puzzled, all of this is new- but he wants to bottle it up and throw away the key, keeping you just like this. 

“C’mere,” he mumbles with a lazy smile, tugging you back over to him. He wraps his arms around you, and scoops you into his lap. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his waist. His hands wrap around your back, holding you in close to him- chests flush with each other. “You’re cute, princess,” he praises, pressing his lips to your jaw and neck, greedy to illicit every little noise from you that he can. 

He kisses you again and your mind is so fuzzy. You didn’t think you’d end up like this. You envisioned a kiss- maybe a kiss when he dropped you off. Your fantasies were so chaste compared to where the night seems to be going- where Billy wants it to go. The sensation of being so enveloped by him is too much. You think you want this, but you are too inexperienced to be totally sure. It’s all moving so fast. Your hand falls back when you feel him bite into your neck, and you moan softly at the sensation too wrapped up in your thoughts to care that he’s leaving a hickey. 

“Gonna make you mine, Princess,” Billy moans close to your ear before connecting his lips to yours again. You can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you and despite how good it feels- you panic just a little bit. It was all happening so fast for you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, softly- pulling away to look at him- read his face. Was it just talk or was he admitting he wanted something real? The idea of that makes your heart feel like it’s racing. “Like… you want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask, innocently. 

Billy didn’t mean that, he didn’t know what he meant. He just knows that he’s craving you and wants to have you all to himself. He’ll say whatever he thinks will make that happen. “Yeah… of course,” he murmurs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

Billy Hargrove wanted you to be his girlfriend. You couldn’t believe it, you felt over the moon. Your grin spread across your face from ear to ear. This was it, tonight was everything you thought you wanted. Someone chose you, finally saw you and wanted you. Relief washed over you, the fear of being alone subsided because he was here, wanting to pull you in closer. Not knowing any better, you let him in. 

Jumping in with both feet, you let Billy take the lead- so wrapped up in the idea of him that you weren’t prepared for what that would actually mean to be his. You just wanted someone so badly, so sick with the heavy feeling of loneliness that you felt so committed to keeping this feeling in its place. You didn’t even know if you actually liked him- you didn’t know him that well. But, he liked you, and told you all the things you wanted to hear. You thought he was perfect- that the moment was perfect. You ignore Eddie’s voice in the back of your mind, reminding you of how terrible the idea was getting with Billy. 

He’s driving you home when he speaks again, and it catches you off guard. 

“I don’t want you hanging around with those guys,” Billy says absentmindedly. He was thinking about Monday at school- how he’d have to see you with your friends, Eddie hanging all over you. “They’re trouble- not good for you Princess.” 

“Who? Hellfire?” You ask with a laugh. “Trust me, they're harmless.” 

“They aren’t… you shouldn’t hang around guys like that,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh. “They just want you- you think they’re your friends but they aren’t.” His mind lingers on Eddie, knowing how Eddie must feel about you. He can’t have him swooping in and stealing you away. He won’t let that happen. 

“They’re all into weird shit… trust me, baby- they’re trouble and I don’t trust them around you. They’ll just want to break us up.” 

“But they’re my friends..,” you try to insist. He shakes his head and you see his knuckles wrap tighter around the steering wheel. You do your best to ignore it. He bites his lip, holding back his anger. 

“You can’t hang out with them anymore,” he declares and it’s an absolute. 

You know it’s not right, but you confuse Billy’s possessiveness as his own way of caring about you, wanting to keep you safe. You rationalize it, you understand how it looks to have so many guy friends. It’s normal for a boyfriend to not want his girlfriend around other guys, right? At the red light, he kisses you again and all apprehension melts away. For now, when he’s kissing you like this- wanting you like this, you’ll give into anything he asks. 

You’ll worry about this on Monday. 

TAGLIST: @fandom-princess-forevermore @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @spookysace24 @crispystarfishhottub @4billy @let-love-bleeds-red @supersecretsamm

[cheshireliam]

"Growing Feelings Poured Into Chocolate" Collection Event

Liam Evans

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Kate: Nn… haah… Liam…?

The moment I let Liam in when he visited my room, he started kissing me without warning.

Liam: — Be quiet. 

He pinned both of my hands above my head, holding them tightly in place so I couldn’t move, and continued his attack on my lips.

(What’s gotten into him…?)

I was struggling to breathe, and yet I couldn't stop him.

Liam looked like he was in more pain than I was, so I accepted his kisses without resistance.

And that went on for who knew how long.

After kissing me for so long that I thought my lips might’ve been swollen, Liam finally released my hands and pulled away. 

Kate: Liam… did something happen? 

Liam: …

Liam: Kate… do you like pain? 

Kate: Huh…? 

Liam: If you like pain, I can give you as much pain as you want.

Liam: If you like being bitten, I’ll bite you however much you want… we can even do more dangerous things together.

Liam: … I'll act as kind of man you want me to be, Kate. So please— 

Liam: Please… don’t abandon me… 

This time, Liam started crying into my chest. 

Kate: … Liam. I don’t like pain. 

Liam: Really…?

Kate: Yes. Because the person I love doesn’t want to hurt me… I always want to take good care of my body and make sure I don't get hurt.

Kate: Also, you don’t need to act. I love you just the way you are, Liam. 

Even though I had told him that countless times before, I firmly reassured him once more. 

Liam: Is that really how you feel…? I thought… 

Liam: … I- I’m sorry, Kate. Thanks for telling me you love me.

Liam: I love you too. So… let me love you as you are too from now on.

Liam: … Sorry for being violent with my kisses. 

Liam gave me a gentle kiss, and the two of us tumbled into bed together. 

…

Kate: … Ah!! I almost forgot all about it!! 

After a moment of Liam and I affirming our love for each other, something came to my mind and I immediately bolted up while still in his arms.

Liam: Is something the matter?

Kate: Yes. I’ll be right back, Liam. 

I got up and brought something from the kitchen back to my room. 

Kate: Happy Valentine’s Day, Liam! 

Liam: Is this… for me?

I presented Liam with a moderately sweet chocolate cake.

Kate: Yup. I wanted to make something you’d enjoy eating… so I used a special chocolate that’s especially aromatic. 

Liam: It really does smell good… 

Kate: Fufu. It was hard to obtain, but worth the effort to beg Jude for help. 

Liam: Jude? By any chance… did you pick up the chocolates this morning? 

Kate: Yes, that’s right… did you happen to see me? 

Kate: I tried to make it a surprise by receiving it in secret…

Liam: What… so that’s what it was…

Liam: I saw you smiling so happy when receiving some package from Jude.

Liam: Since it’s Valentine’s Day, I assumed you and Jude might have feelings for each other…

Kate: Eeh!? That’s impossible. I’m fully devoted to you, Liam!

Kate: So that’s why you asked if I liked pain…

Liam: Yeah… I’m sorry for doubting you. 

Liam: … It made me insecure knowing you’re such a wonderful person that anyone would admire. 

Kate: Then please always voice out whenever you feel that way, I can clear those feelings for you. 

Kate: Because my love for you will absolutely never fade. 

Liam: Thanks, Kate. 

Although it was late at night, the two of us shared the chocolate cake. 

Even if our love melts and loses its shape in the heat caused by jealousy, like chocolate, we can always reshape it beautifully.

Because I want to be together with Liam until the end of time.

[suprababka]

OMG I'm completely in love with your writing is just so good, I already binge read all of posts, i really want to know your headcannons about cuddling stuff with the opm characters?

Hellooo!👋 Thank you, I'm really happy to hear that you enjoy what I do🥰 And thank you for the request! Of course I'll do it ;D And sorry for taking so long! As you could see, my first post with hcs was published on the 25th of December (2024)💀 But I'm planning to try to post headcanons more regularly😉 (this ask was sent on the 19th of June, chat😅) If something is not right, please let me know, and I'll fix it. Have fun!💕

Cuddling & hugs with them

A/N: fun fact: my name is Nicole (shortly, Nika)🙋‍♀️

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist too see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

It'd be rather awkward to hug him at first

Just imagine: you open your arms to hug him only to see his classic poker face

Double kill if he asks you what are you trying to do💀

Though he doesn't protest when you tell him that you want to give him a hug and proceed to do it

He just stands with his hands in pockets

Saitama feels like he did something wrong when you let go of him, trying to hide your disappointment and embarrassment

It's not that he doesn't know what hugs are

He just doesn't understand the idea of them

At first

You keep giving him hugs there and there, and he gets used to them

For some reason, it brings him a sense of comfort and reasurance that you're here

(so yeah, he starts to actually miss your hugs when you're not around)

Some time later, he responds to your embraces

Well, he just puts his hand on the side of your waist

(or sometimes even playfully swat your butt)

He doesn't want to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you, as he's afraid he'll overdo it and hurt you

Oh, and yes, he won't initiate hugs

Though you can expect his hand to be on your waist when you're walking together

But sadly, that's all

Cuddles is a whole new level for Saitama to complete

He likes his personal space: to sit or lay in his favourite pose, to scratch his rear, pick his nose, etc.

But he can't do that while cuddling with you

That's what he thought

But in reality, it's not so bad

You find a position that you're both comfortable with: he lays behind you on his side, supporting his head with his hand or sometimes even placing it on top of yours

He can watch the TV, feel your smell and warmth, scratch his butt, lay like he wants and do other things

A real bliss🤌✨

As for you, you love being the little spoon as well

To feel Saitama's warmth, his hot breath against your neck, occasional kisses on top of your head and sometimes even his strong arm draped over you as your personal shield from everything

The same goes to when you're cuddling in bed, reading manga together, brushing your teeth, taking the bath...

And yes, you're not going to be the big spoon, sorry

Saitama is just not a touchy partner

But hey, he has other ways to make you feel loved ;)

Another man who is unfamiliar with hugs

But it's different with Genos

He wants to be the best boyfriend for you

And he knows that hugs and cuddles are important aspects in relationships as they provide love and support for your significant other

Hence, the S-class hero spends a lot of time watching other couples, reading different articles on the Internet (even watching videos) and, of course, asking your opinion on what you're comfortable with

You tell him that hugs and cuddles shouldn't be forced, it all comes from heart

As you bump on his chest (where presumably his mechanic heart is), he raises his eyebrow a little

After he processes the information, he claims that he understands you

He doesn't really

After that, he takes some time to observe you and to analyze when and how he should hug you

For example, when you both greet each other, he'll place his hand on your waist and kiss your cheek

When you're walking together, he'll place his palm on the lower of your back

When you're feeling sad, he'll embrace you and hold you in his arms until you start feeling better

When you're both sitting on the couch, he'll wrap his arm around your shoulder

Well, you get the drill

Genos also asks Dr. Kuseno to make his arms and abs a bit softer for you..?

(somehow)

He just wants you to feel comfortable in his arms, like you're hugging a person, not a robot

But you reassure him that you see him as a human

It means to him more than you think

Some time later, you notice that your boyfriend's approach to hugging you changed

As if he started putting more soul into it

Don't get me wrong, his hugs didn't lack of affection

They just were kinda... automatic? Like, a trigger happened and then Genos would embrace you as if following a programmed scenario

But fortunately, Genos figures it out (not without your help)

Moving on, you're in full control when it comes to cuddles

Wanna be a small or big spoon? No complaints from Genos

He doesn't really have preferences

Your comfort is all that matters to him

He'll warm you up or, vice versa, cool you down with his body if needed

If you had a hard day, he'd listen to you while giving you a massage

He'll also give you sudden kisses on your cheek, forehead, hair, neck, etc.

(oh, and he'll admire your beauty while you're not looking)

All in all, Genos is a perfect partner for cuddles and hugs

He just needs some time to figure it all out <3

He's low-key touch starved and scared to do anything first

What if you're uncomfortable hugging him? Or you're not a fan of physical touch? Or..?

He's always happy to be with you and even allows himself to be a bit childish

And his inner child wants to give you a big hug!

On one of your dates, he greets you and subconsiously opens his arms to put you into his embrace

Only to stop in mid-way

What was he thinking? Were you really eager to hug him as well?

You notice Sonic's awkward attempt to hug you and pretend to just stretch

You smile and wrap your arms around him, placing head on his chest

He's surprised, but hugs you back immediately

Sonic's grip tightens around you and his nose is burried in your hair, smelling your scent

Ah, if Sonic could, he'd hold you like this forever

Just like that, you signed your death warrant

Sonic becomes your personal coala and doesn't miss an opportunity to wrap his arm around you

(he doesn't mind if you want be coala as well though)

He'll playfully squeeze you, tickle you, pepper your head with kisses, breathe in your scent, caress your curves, warm you up, and just enjoy your presence, whispering sweet nothings

Please do tell if it gets overbearing for you

Sonic will hate it if you suffer in silence because of him

The same thing goes to cuddles, obviously

He likes being both big and small spoon

Big because he feels like your personal protector (and pillow)

Small because, again, he wants to be pampered like a child

It really makes him feel loved when he's lying on top of you and you run your fingers through his hair

In one sentence, Sonic freaking LOVES hugging you and cuddling with you💕

You'll be the first to initiate hugs

And not just hugs that you give someone when you're greeting them

But a supporting, more meaningful one

You and Garou are just spending time together in the park, talking about everything

Feeling emotional and comfortable, you lean closer to your boyfriend and wrap your arms around him, sighing pleasantly

It makes him stop in the middle of the sentence and just stare at you dumbfounded, not knowing how to react and what to do

Garou has never been hugged before

Usually, if not always, when he gets physical with someone, it happens in a fight

Now he feels... warm and safe

Yeah, it's definitely better than being punched

Garou hesitantly hugs you back, still trying to get used to the feeling

When you start pulling away, he doesn't let go of you, tightening his grip on you

"Wait... Don't move, let's stay like this... at least for a little while, please," he whispers

And of course you don't protest

(you wanted to stop hugging your boyfriend because you were afraid you went too far in the first place, but seeing his reaction, you relax)

After that, you start hugging each other to show appreciation, support and love for each other

Garou gets a habit to hug you from behind and burry his face into the crook of your neck as you both stand in silence

It can mean two things: he's tired or overwhelmed and needs you to calm or reassure him

Or he's just showing his gratitude and love for you, basking in your presence

Of course, the same goes to you

Your boyfriend will always be happy to hold you in his arms when you need him

But don't get me wrong, you hug each other not only in moments of comfort

For example, when you both greet each other, you wrap your hand around Garou's neck as he places his on your lower back

(and lightly slapping your butt with another)

He also sometimes wraps his arm around you to make sure that you're here with him

This goes to especially when you're in crowded places and he's afraid you might get lost or worse

When your boyfriend feels silly, he likes to lift you up, carry you in bridal style, place you on his shoulder, supporting your legs, and even swirl you around him

Well, you catch the drift

(usually, it happens to show you his strength and just have fun)

Oh, and how could I forget to mention that he definitely swings his arm over you when you're both sitting on the couch/bench/etc.

Or he's sitting behind you on top of the bench/step with his arms around you and his chin on top of your head

Garou also loves it when you're sitting on his lap!!!

He may seem as someone who is not a big fan of cuddles, but in reality, they bring him a sense of comfort as well

Garou is always the big spoon tho

When you're cuddling on the sofa, your back pressed against his chest and his arms are encircling you like a protective shield or are gently caressing your curves

Usually, you're discussing different topics or just enjoying each other's presence in silence

When you're in bed, you lay your head on Garou's chest as his arms are around you (again)

If you're lying on one of your sides, of course your boyfriend's arm is draped over you and his face is nuzzled against your hair/neck

Alright, I think I wrote enough about Garou (and no, it's not because he's one of my favs... I hope)🫡

The main point is that hugs and cuddles with Garou are full of love and comfort🥰

Ooooh, this man loves hugs and cuddles

I believe he'll try to hug you on your first date, opening his arms broadly

And pull you into the bear hug

(if you're comfortable with it, that is)

Metal Bat melts when he feels you squeeze him in return

After that, you both start a tradition of Badd scooping you in his arms when you meet each other

Sometimes you like to press your foreheads together and peck each other's lips

He likes to briefly hug you or wrap his arm around when he can

Standing in the queue? He puts his hands on your waist and places his chin in top of your head (if he's taller than you; if not, then nuzzles his face against your neck/back)

Walking down the street? A strong arm around your shoulder can be expected

Feeling joyous? Please hug him, and he'll whirl you

You're anxious because of the crowded place? Badd is here to let you hug his arm or, again, take you under his wing

You always feel loved and secure in his arms

And Metal Bat loves holding you in his arms, patting your head, leaving soft kisses there and there, admiring your beauty, whispering compliments or just saying how much he loves you

He also likes to show off his strength and carries you in his arms/lifts you up

+ gives you piggybackrides!

Badd is really warm, by the way

In addition, his hugs feels like home, like all the worries and problems disappear

And cuddles too!

They're one of his favourite ways of spending time with you

Feeling your head resting on his chest and his hands stroking your back is a true heaven for him

Or vice versa, when he's really worn out or stressed from his hero work, he lays on top of you, burrying his face in your chest and feeling your fingers running through his hair in a soothing way

This helps him to relax

Your presence in general always brings him peace

Just like his does the same to you

That's why you both don't really have a favourite pose for cuddles, as you're both craving for each other's warmth and touch

Well, alright, you and Badd totally love it when Tama joins you two

I don't know how to emphasise enough that hugs and cuddles with Metal Bat are the best

He is your personal Teddy Bear after all :3

(yes, I'm biased towards this man and I'm not sorry)

(I swear, Metal Bat's hugs/cuddles would solve 90% of my prolems)

(chat, is it normal that I had a few breakdowns because he's not real and, consequently, will never be my husband?)

(sorry, let's move on🔜)

I believe that Amai Mask is actually not a huggy person

Yeah, he can semihug his fans when they're taking pictures

And that's all

That was until you came into his life

You'll be first one to hug him

In return, he'll just pat your head

And that's how most of your hugs will go

You don't really mind because you still feel his love and comfort when he strokes your hair or spine

Ah, the way he gently puts his hand on the back of your head and brings it to his chest when you're sad🥹

Beaut loves it when you hug him from behind, nuzzling your face against his muscular back

Or when you wrap your arms around his neck and place your chin on top of his head when he's sitting in his director's chair/work armchair

Yeah, you read that right

This man loves to show you off

And work is no exception

He demonstratively places you on his lap, one hand is around your shoulders and another is caressing your thigh

Meanwhile, your arms are hugging his neck and your cheek is pressed against his temple

No one dares to even say a word towards you

And of course he loves to put his hand on your side as you both walk down the street or the red carpet of some Gala (i.e. in the public)

(kinda possessive if you ask me, but hey, I like moderately possessive men😏)

As I've mentioned before, Amai loves it when you straddle his lap

And when it's just the two of us as well

(especially when you're sitting on him with your arms around his neck as his hands support your lower back)

Beaut likes to pull you close to him when you're showering, taking bath and chilling in the jacuzzi together

He says that he's a serious man and doesn't need cuddles

Also him: doesn't let go of you when you're going to sleep

Really, he acts like a baby and whines if you leave the bed to use the toilet or to do some other stuff instead of snuggling against him

(it stays as a secret between you)

To sum up, Amai tends to wrap his arm around you to show the world that you're his and he's yours

And he will never admit that he craves for your presence, which brings him comfort at night

But you understand everything perfectly well😏

You can forget about hugs with Flashy Flash

Alright, almost forget

He lets you cling to him but doesn't wrap his arms around you or even put his hand on your side

Like I said, he's not fan of hugging and struggles with showing affection for you

Flashy doesn't want to hurt your feelings by pushing you away from him

That's why he prefers to just stand there like this🧍

Until you release him from your hug

S-class hero believes it's the best compromise

What he doesn't realise is that you start feeling like you're annoying your boyfriend

Or he doesn't even want to touch you...

This hurts

Soon Flash notices how corners of your lips curl downwards and your eyes seem to lose their light each time you hug him and pull away, not feeling any mutuality

After a while, you stop snuggling against him

For some reason, Flashy Flash doesn't like this at all

Gladly, you both talk it out

(you're quite surprised when your boyfriend brings up this issue in one of your conversations, as you thought he didn't care about that at all)

The next time you hug Flash, a muscular arm drops over your shoulder and caresses it in a soothing way

What amazes you more is that Flashy Flash even initiates semihugs

And who would know that the S-Class Rank 10 professional hero is clingy when it comes to cuddles?

No, of course he doesn't drop his serious façade and acts like he doesn't need this sort of affection

But the way he holds you tighter in bed and moves closer to you when you're both cuddling tells you otherwise

It'd be even funnier if he preferred being the small spoon

But, oh well, he likes to your protector

What else can I say?

Flashy Flashy may be not a professional hugger and cuddler, but he's not bad either😉

Zombieman actually likes hugging you

He'll be hesitant to pull you into his embrace because he'll be damned if he make you upset by doing something you're uncomfortable with

So he asks if he could hug you on one of your dates

And you happily let him do so

Later, Zombieman just opens his arms, silently inviting to his embrace, instead of asking

He also tends to do that as a way to greet you

Your boyfriend, being the gentleman he is, definitely puts his hand on your lower back or side when you're walking in public to make sure you don't get lost

And you, being the loving girlfriend you are, cling closer to him only to feel his grip gently tighten around you

Fun fact: even though he's a zombie and his body is cold, he can keep you warm in his embrace

And cool you down as well if it's hot for you

His hugs are always tender and delicate

And of course cuddles as well

He may come off as a serious professional hero who is not snuggly at all

But in reality, it's all otherwise

Zombieman adores late-night evenings when both of you lay in bed and talk about anything, spooning each other

(ah, the way he looks at you while you're babbling about your day🥹)

Really, these evenings are everything to him

He has his beloved woman by his side whom he can listen to forever, and all of his worries melt away

What can be better than that?

You don't know it, but when you fall asleep in your lover's arms, he stays awake for a while just to simply appreciate the moment and your sleeping form

He feels like the luckiest man on Earth

And he is ;)

Anyway, Zombieman loves holding you in his arms and feeling your presence

It makes him feel like human☺️

Another hug enjoyer!

Definitely will be nervous to pull you into his arms tho

So you'll have to make the first move

And after that, King clasps you into his embrace every chance he gets

But not in a clingy way

He sees hugs as a way to support you, show his love for you, and just... feel happy, you know?

His mood always brightens when he has you in his arms, your face burried in his neck and his head is resting on top of yours (or his hands pat you)

When you share some good news with your boyfriend, he opens his arms with a broad smile, like some kind of miracle happened

(he looks like a cute, enthusiastic boy <3)

And you get pulled into a bear hug

(if you don't like these types of hugs, he won't do that, of course)

What else you should know is that King gets super shy about wrapping his arms around you in crowded places

He feels awfully awkward to take action for some reason

(both of you know that it's due to his social anxeity)

But he'll be grateful if you take the lead and at least hug his arm

When it gets less crowded, he feels at ease and can hug your shoulders

At home, hugs with him immediately turn into cuddles

Come on, he is hikkan and otaku

Of course he'd love to bask in your love

To lay his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat with closed eyes, as you sigh contentedly and play with his fair

As you could have guessed, you're the big spoon most of time

However, when you're both playing videogames or reading manga, he likes to have you on his lap and place his chin on your shoulder

The same goes to when you're taking bath together

In other cases, I believe King will be the small spoon

What can I say? He's your baby boy😚

[starpoweredv1b]

With finding out you do like JJK, I gift you this drabble with Nanami.

Nanami isn't a dad. He is still single, and his life is still all about punching that time card. That is until one day, when he is getting off, a colleague begs him for a favor.

"My daughter normally takes the train home, but with all those reports of chikan reports lately, do you think you could possibly take her home?"

She is lucky that Nanami is such a stand-up guy and agrees. Taking time out of his valuble off time, he drives to the nearby college to wait. Still in his suit and tie, he is leaned against the side of his expensive car, always the gentleman he plans to open the door. He gets appreciative looks from girls passing by, but he has no interest in any of them. 'To young' he thinks to himself, that is until he sees his little soon to be passanger. Bright eyes look around the parking lot on the phone with someone, stretching up on tiptoes to try to get a better vantage. Silly little girl, don't you know that isn't how seeing better at a distance works? When she finally catches sight of him, she hangs up the phone and makes her way over to him with a bright smile to match those bright eyes.

"Mr. Nanami?" she asks once she gets close enough to be heard, sweet voice filling his brain like cotton candy and she was just so tiny as she stood in front of him. She would be easy to pick up. Hell, he could do it with one arm if she didn't squirm. Maybe even if she did. "Yes. Your mother sent me to take you home." he says. His voice was full of authority, but still polite. He put his hand out for her bag, but instead, she placed her own small hand in his mistaking it for a handshake instead. Everything about her was tiny. No wonder her mother was worried and asked him to go get her daughter. He would never do anything to her against her will.

In the car, he was now trapped with her smell, too, trying to make idle conversation, but it was hard when she smelt exactly like a vanilla cupcake. It's not the cheap perfume type either. "I'm going to school to be a baker." she proudly tells him the smile on her face makes him want to ruin it with his cock down her throat, but he waits. Ever the gentleman that he is. He doesn't even get home before he is fisting his cock roughly to the scent of her still in his car and texting her mother that he would be more than happy to keep picking up her daughter and making sure she got home safe, free of charge of course.

Over the weeks, he slowly starts getting his little passenger used to his touch. A hand on her back as he guided her to the car. Pushing her hair out of her pretty face when she looks up at him. No, he didn't just trail his fingertips down her face. Everything is slow and methodical until she greets him with a hug after a bad day. Tests and her partner burnt the confections they were working on. She huffed and crossed her little arms as her adorably plump and glossed lips pouted. God did he want those lips around his thumb as he absolutely wrecked her. She wouldn't have to have bad days like this if she dropped out of college and moved in with him. She could make him cute little deserts and breads and he could stuff her tiny cunt full of his hot loads every day. It would be absolutely perfect.

She didn't notice his hand on her thigh. She didn't notice it slipped up and up until he was squeezing the fat of her thigh. She didn't say anything when they ended up at his apartment instead of her home, but she did say, "Please." when she ended up across his lap in his secluded parking spot, making a mess all over the front of his pants

Turns out, she was playing the game as much as he was.

-🐱

🐱 anon singlehandedly feeding this account i swear!!! thank you for the gift it made me (s)cream trust.

making reader into his little housewife slowly but surely, god it definitely drives him crazy just imagining her all rounded and glowing with their kid one day, wearing an apron as she bakes for him. thinking about it would literally lead to him going extra deep if he's fucking her. whispering how good she's doing for him as he spears her open to her cervix. circling her clit with callous experienced fingers as he thrusts deep.

he's also the type to give forehead kisses as he cums deep inside. he'll have his hands on the backs of her thighs, her feet on the broad of his shoulders, and cock head kissing the curve of her cervix as he holds her in a mating press. he'll kiss her forehead so sweetly as he bullies her loaded cunt oh my god i need this man so so bad.

also this inspired me to one day write about burnt out salaryman nanami as a chikan. thank you 🐱 anon i am in love with your asks.

[muhlsworld]

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

synopsis: you and nika have a talk

WARNINGS: someone flirting with nika and comfort i think

you can find the request here

you, nika, and some of her old uconn teammates decided to go out seeing has you all had a free friday night while visiting, so here you all are at ted’s enjoying your friday night.

it was nikas turn to head for the drink at the bar. so here you were waiting with paige, azzi, and kk. you guys were all laughing and having a good time. that was until you turned to look at the bar for nika and saw some random girl next to nika. that girl was too close for your liking. but you turned back around to keep your conversation going with the girls.

a few more minutes had passed and turned around again to look at the bar seeing as nika had taken a while already. and what you saw made you feel uneasy. nika and this girl were having a conversation. but what made you feel uneasy was that the girl had placed her on nikas shoulder.

you looked feeling upset about the whole situation but you didn’t want to make a huge deal about it in front of your friends. so you were gonna wait till you got home to talk about it with nika. but the night wasn’t the same anymore. you weren’t feeling the fun anymore. and nika noticed but she would bring it up later when you got home.

you guys had left the bar around 2am. and once you got back to your apartment you shared with nika you went straight to the bedroom and nika followed you. “what’s going? you started acting weird.” nika asked. “it’s nothing it’s fine.” you said. “come on, i know it’s not nothing. talk to me.” she said softly. you guys were now sitting on the bed next to each other.

“i just… i didn’t like how touchy that girl at the bar was with you.” you said quietly, almost feeling embarrassed about it. and then it all clicked in nikas head. she know you had a tendency to be insecure especially now with all the popularity she was gaining. “oh baby, im so sorry.” she said quickly.

you replied with “it’s fine. i’m just making it a big deal.” “no no of course it’s a big deal. you’re feelings are so important to me, you know that.” nika explained. and you felt slightly better about the situation. “you know i wasn’t entertaining her or anything right?” she asked. you didn’t say anything to her about that. she sighed placing a hand on your thigh which caused you to look up at her.

“i promise i only want you. no one else can bring me the amount of happiness that you bring me. you’re the only person i’ve ever wanted okay? all this popularity means nothing to me without you.” nika explained to you very sincerely. “thank you nika, and i know you weren’t entreating her or anything. i just couldn’t help but feel that way you know?” you said.

“yes i totally understand and im sorry for not setting boundaries with that girl at the bar when i should’ve.” nika said. “thank you i really appreciate it nika.” you said smiling softly at her. she brought a hand to your jaw and pulled you in for a short sweet kiss. which you happily returned.

seeing as it was very late you guys got ready for bed. and as you crawled in bed nika said “i love you so much.”. you smiled at her and replied “i love you more.” nika had opened her arms so you could lay on her chest and you did.

you were happy nika was very understanding about what you were feeling. you were so lucky to have someone like her in your life. she was everything you had ever dreamed of.

and with that you guys fell asleep in each others arms. feeling happy with on another.

A/N: this is kinda short so i’m sorry about that but lmk if you have any more requests !

[gasogene]

as i don't want to completely hijack this post, i've decided to type out several of the letters in the book letters to sherlock holmes by richard lancelyn green in a post of my own. thank you again to @hesagoodone for the interest; i do hope the rest of the fandom enjoys these, as well! these are the five letters i had added to the aforementioned post but i will be reblogging this a few times over with more, so stay tuned... it's been so very hard to choose my favorites!

under the read-more you will also find a brief history from one of the many people hired to be sherlock holmes' personal secretary during a 50+ year period where 221B baker street was receiving an enormous influx of letters from those that hoped & those that believed sherlock holmes, the great consulting detective, was real—living & breathing.

Dear Reader,

Letters addressed to Sherlock Holmes have been answered by the staff of the Abbey National Building Society for over fifty years and I am the latest to serve as his secretary.

The head office, Abbey House, stands in Baker Street and includes the number 221 which many would say is the site of the rooms which Holmes shared with Dr Watson. The present building was opened in 1932 as the headquarters of what was then the Abbey Road Building Society, but which in 1944 took its present name following the merger with the National Building Society. In 1951 it housed the Sherlock Holmes Exhibition which was arranged by the St Marylebone Public Library as a contribution to the Festival of Britain. The Exhibition included a reconstruction of the famous sitting-room, which won wide acclaim, being visited by over half a million people, including Queen Mary.

Letters still arrive in large quantities, and during my time in office, Mr Holmes has received post from every quarter of the globe. There are fan letters, birthday wishes, Christmas cards (one each year is from Dr Watson), invitations to give lectures or attend weddings. Sometimes he learns that he is the potential winner of a fortune or that he has been specially selected to receive a trial subscription to a well-known periodical, but by far the largest number of letters contain details of intriguing mysteries. He is asked to trace, as it may be, a peanut thief in Kansas or to bring to justice the chopstick murderer of Nagasaki or to end the nuclear arms race. A few bring news of Professor Moriarty some claiming that he has been spotted boarding a train in Neasden or that he is responsible for the theft of a painting from the Dulwich Gallery. Others again wish to know intimate details of the detective's private life. Was he left- or right-handed? Did he dislike gooseberry jam? Did he once wound Mrs Hudson in the foot while cleaning a revolver? And did Mycroft Holmes wear glasses?

These and other questions are hard to answer, and I have to remind his correspondents that Holmes is now spending much of his time in Sussex and is rarely, if ever, on hand to deal with the queries himself. But I know that he appreciates all the kind comments made about him and is touched by the evidence of the high regard in which he is held.

He will always reside at 221B Baker Street, but if the Abbey National Building Society has been able to play its part in sustaining his tenancy then that is a cause for satisfaction. I certainly enjoy the work and could not wish for a better or more distinguished employer.

Best wishes.

Yours faithfully

Sue Brown

Secretary to Sherlock Holmes

A Bee-Keeper's Offer of Assistance

10 October 1904 W.B.C. Apiary Old Bedford Road Luton, Beds. Dear Sir, I see by some of the morning papers that you are about to retire and take up beekeeping. I know not if this be correct or otherwise, but if correct I shall be pleased to render you service by giving any advice you may require. I make this offer in return for the pleasure your writings gave me as a youngster, they enabled me to spend many and many a happy hour. Therefore I trust you will read this letter in the same spirit that it is written. Yours respectfully, W. Herrod

A Housekeeper for Sherlock Holmes

10 October 1904 c/o The Hon. P. Cranstoun Hurst Hill House Totland Bay, Isle of Wight To Sir Conan Doyle, Bart, Will 'Mr Sherlock Holmes' require a housekeeper for his country cottage at Xmas? I know someone, who loves a quiet country life, and 'Bees' especially, an old-fashioned quiet woman. Yours faithfully, M. Gunton

Request for an Autograph

18 November 1904 9 Eriswell Road, Worthing Dear Sir, I trust I am not trespassing too much on your time and kindness by asking for the favour of your autograph to add to my collection. I have derived much pleasure from reading your Memoirs, and should very highly value the possession of your famous signature. Trusting you will see your way to thus honour me, and venturing to thank you very much in anticipation. I am, Sir, Your obedient Servant, Charles Wright P.S. Not being aware of your present address, I am taking the liberty of sending this letter to Sir A. Conan Doyle, asking him to be good enough to forward it to you. Sherlock Holmes Esq.

Sherlock Holmes in Indiana

December 1954 Indianapolis, Indiana, USA Dear Sherlock Holmes, When I go to Europe, I want to see your house on Baker Street. My father read me 'The Speckled Band', 'The Six Napoleons', and 'The Red-Headed League'. I hope he reads me more. You're quite clever at solving cases. When I grow up, I'm going to belong to the 'Sherlock Holmes Club'. I read about you in the comics, in the newspapers, too. My sister and I play 'Sherlock Holmes', but I have to be Watson. We have two long-haired dachounds [sic] and when we play 'Sherlock Holmes', we pretend that they are bloodhounds. A magazine said you went to Indiana, USA. Did you? Sincerely, Betsy Rosasco

Lyn Satterstrom's Letter

September 1959 Richfield, Minnesota, USA Dear Sir, Although I have been told that you do not really exist, as have the other members of my English class, I still think that somehow you do. In the hearts of all those who read about your wonderful exploits in the world of solving crime, you do exist, as surely as the typewriter on which I write surely does exist — although my typewriting is a far cry from your great feats of crime detection. I realize you are shy when it comes to a lot of praise, so I will just say that you can never know how proud your readers are of you — that is, all but the detectives who read Dr Watson's stories just to help them solve their own crimes. Dr Watson said that you are — or were, as the case may be — a rather messy housekeeper. But even your messy stacks of news clippings have helped you to solve crimes, haven't they? There are suspicious-looking characters around all the time, and some people think you should come to this country to investigate. I have told them repeatedly, of course, that you are much too busy to bother with the crimes of America when you can help your own country. Well, actually, the reason I wrote is because I want to receive a letter from you so that I will know if you are still living and advancing the detective profession, or if you have passed on the road to happiness. If you are not living, would you kindly let me know? The rest of my English class is anxiously awaiting your letter also. Did you really do all the things that Dr Watson said you did? Some of the crimes and mysteries you solved seem almost impossible. Well, I must leave you to your work. In your next spare second or so, would you drop — preferably mail — me a note (by this I mean a letter, of course)? Thank you ever so much. Sincerely, Lyn Satterstrom

[riiwriting]

Another Year | Lucifer (Obey Me)

summary : after a big, rowdy birthday party that you were not expecting, you end your birthday the way you really wanted to -- getting the eldest brother to open up.

a little blurb based on your year 2 birthday call from luci in the og game! based on the original dialogue, though it won't be exact.

warnings : none! just a lot of fluffs hehe

You silently thanked the stars as you fell backwards against your mattress, your eyes immediately shutting around a pounding headache. You were so genuinely grateful to see another birthday come and go in the Devildom, but you were undeniably exhausted. You loved the boys, and you loved how much they had grown into showing their affection for you, there was no doubt about that. However, it would be nice if once in a while they asked before doing things.

For the second year in a row, your birthday was celebrated with a surprise party at the House of Lamentation, complete with decorations, am esteemed guest list of your favorite people, and a cake baked by Barbatos himself. While the effort was most definitely appreciated, it still wasn't how you would have chosen to celebrate the day.

Since you first arrived in the Devildom, it was rare that you saw an uneventful day. If Mammon and Asmo had taken a moment to consult you before going into full party-planner mode, you would have told them as such. Of course, such wasn't the case, and you ended up having quite an overstimulating evening. Though you did manage to have fun throughout the night, you were extremely happy to be in bed.

You were just beginning to feel yourself drift off when your D.D.D began to buzz on your pillow. Unintentionally, you let out a groan as you peeled one eye open to glance at the glowing screen. As soon as you recognized the contact photo, your expression brightened, and you found yourself immediately regretting your temporary annoyance. You hit answer, a content smile on your face as you pressed the speaker to your ear. "Hello?"

"MC, hello. I'm sorry my brothers caused yet another ruckus this year," Lucifer was immediately apologizing, his deep voice quiet in your ear.

His consideration made your stomach flutter. A year ago, you would've convinced yourself that he was just seeing it as his duty to make sure you're surviving in the Devildom. Now, you knew better. "I am a bit tired, I won't lie to you," you admitted bashfully.

Your words were met by a sigh, "I apologize. They went a bit overboard this time." After a moment of contemplation, he added, "I'll make sure to scold them accordingly tomorrow."

You couldn't help the slight laugh that left your lips. "Oh please let them be, Luci. It was a nice party, really. The effort was nice," you insisted, feeling a bit guilty. The thought really was what mattered, and the boys went to great lengths to make the night special. The last thing you wanted was for them to feel as though they had done something wrong.

Lucifer hummed, before conceding with a begrudging promise not to mention it. You enjoyed a comfortable silence as Lucifer apparently shifted about his room on the other end of the line. Just as you felt your eyes begin to lid once more, his throat cleared, and his voice returned. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday again. I admit I'm quite happy we got to celebrate another of your birthdays together," he admitted sweetly.

A smile naturally curved onto your lips as you quietly thanked him. "Of course," he responded quickly, and if you could see his face, you imagined his cheeks were, by this point, probably a bit flushed. "I'm sure humans get to celebrate far fewer birthdays than we demons do."

The thought brought a twist of fear to your chest. Being here, it was so easy to forget about your mortality. Other than Mammon's casual insistence on calling you "his human," it was easy to ignore the fact that you didn't really belong here at all. And yet, here you were, and after two years and two wonderful birthdays, you couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

"I've loved spending my last couple of birthdays here," you told Lucifer, your eyes closed as you snuggled further back into your pillows. "Even with the parties."

Another low chuckle drifted through your D.D.D. as Lucifer took in your words. "I feel very lucky to have gotten to spend not just one, but now two birthdays with you," he gushed, the admission the most open you had heard him in a while.

Before you could sort out what to say that would be just as meaningful, he surprised you again. "If possible, I'd like to celebrate many more of your birthdays in the future," he murmured. There another brief pause, before his gravely voice returned soothingly to your ears. "If we do get to spend your next birthday together, perhaps I can see that it's a bit more relaxing for you. More special."

You weren't sure if it was the exhaustion beginning to seep into your bones, or the way his voice sounded in the silence of the night, or your sudden realization of how short your time here might really be, but a spark of confidence lit up your chest. "Do we really have to wait a year for that?" you asked quietly, your sleepiness evident in your tone.

There was a very brief pause, ended by Lucifer saying, "It's getting rather late, MC. You said yourself that you're tired, you should get some sleep."

You hardly gave your next words a thought before they were tumbling out of your mouth, "Is that not something we can do together?"

This time, there was no pause. "I'll be there in a moment, then," he said curtly. The call dropped before you had a chance to respond.

Turning on your side to face your bedroom door, you waited patiently for the forty seconds it took for him to reach your end of the hall. There was a light knock on the wood, though from the way the door immediately creaked open, you knew it was more a formality than anything. The light from the hall illuminated a familiar physique, clad in nice blue pajamas and a messy bedhead. "MC?" Lucifer spoke quietly into your room, his gaze falling onto you almost immediately.

Rather than respond, you simply stretched your arms out in his direction, wordlessly inviting him into your embrace. He wasted no time in letting the door click shut behind him before taking a few long strides to cross your room. You shuffled over to make space as he peeled back your blankets and slid between the sheets beside you. Immediately, his arms were around your waist, holding you tightly against him. As soon as your head found a comfortable place on his chest, you felt his entire body relax.

You couldn't help the sigh of contentment that left your lips. "Perfect," you murmured dreamily.

Gentle fingers traced up and down the length of your arm, making it increasingly harder to resist the sleepiness rising behind your eyes. "You are, yes," you heard Lucifer murmur into the top of your head. "I hope you've had a nice birthday."

At his words, you tipped your chin upwards, dragging your eyes open to look up at the handsome demon in your bed. "The day was nice," you responded. Then will a small smile, you added, "but this has made it much better."

Lucifer's smile grew to mirror yours, his eyes drifting as he admired every inch of your face. "I'm glad I could make your birthday special," he responded softly, his fingertips moving from your arm to your cheek. Delicately, you felt his thumb brush down the outline of your face before coming to a stop beneath your chin. You leaned into his touch, a change in body language that he read perfectly.

Your eyes slid shut as he pulled you closer, eliminating the little bit of space left between you. When his lips met yours you melted, your fingers gripping the silk fabric of his open pajama shirt. With one of his arms wound around you waist, he held you as though he was afraid you might disappear. After a moment, you pulled away, opening your eyes to see Lucifer's affectionate smile.

"Happy birthday, my darling," he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Now I think we could both use some rest."

Humming in agreement, you snuggled into him and let your eyes drift shut. With his arms around you, and your weight pleasantly pressed against his body, each of you slept better than you had all year.

[slcmml]

tech support! charlie & reader — you turn my software into hardware.

you hate making phone calls.

absolutely despise it, actually. something about talking to a stranger, especially for customer support, makes your skin crawl. but your laptop is acting up, and after scouring the internet for a solution and coming up empty handed, you seemingly have no other choice. so, you dial the number, swallow your nerves, and wait.

“hello! this is charlie from tech co’s customer support! how can i help you today?”

you weren’t expecting the voice on the other end to sound so… cute?

it’s warm, gentle, and just a little scratchy, like he’s been talking all day but still has patience to spare. suddenly, making this phone call doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

“hi, um. yeah. my laptop isn’t working? i mean, obviously, that’s why i’m calling, but, uh, it won’t turn on, and i have no idea why.”

“gotcha! let’s see if we can get that fixed for you!”

his voice is so reassuring you almost forget you’re actually supposed to be fixing something.

he walks you through the steps, patient as ever while you fumble through them. when you press the wrong button, he gently corrects you. when you let out a frustrated groan, he laughs—not in a mean way, but like he finds you endearing. and god, it makes your stomach do a little flip.

“it’s okay, take your time! i’m here to help, promise.”

and help he does.

except at some point, your laptop starts working again, but you don’t want tell him.

“huh? still not working? that’s weird.”

you lie straight through your teeth just to keep talking to him. it’s shameless, really, but you don’t even care. he’s kind, patient, and his voice is the nicest thing you’ve heard all day. so you keep up the act just a little longer, drawing out the conversation until there’s truly nothing left to say.

“well, i’m glad i could help! and if you need anything else, you know where to call.”

oh, you do. and you’re already thinking about it.

“you’ve been super helpful, by the way,” you say, hesitating just a little before asking, “um, what’s your name? so i can leave a good review?”

“oh! yeah, of course. it’s charlie.”

charlie. yeah, that suits him.

“thanks, charlie. i really appreciate it.”

“anytime.”

—

you call back the next day.

you shouldn’t. there is no reason to. your laptop is fine, perfectly fine, but—

“hello! tech support, how can i help you?”

your heart sinks for a second before you realize it’s not charlie.

“oh, um,” you stammer, scrambling for an excuse. “i, uh, had an issue with my laptop the other day, and i wanted to follow up? i think the guy who helped me was named charlie?”

“oh, charlie! yeah, give me a sec, i’ll transfer you over.”

your stomach does a whole flip before you hear the click of the line transferring.

“hello?”

oh, thank god.

“hey, charlie,” you say, and you hope he doesn’t hear the stupid little smile in your voice. “it’s me. again.”

“oh, hey! did something go wrong with your laptop?”

“yeah, it’s, uh. still kinda acting up.”

lie.

“oh no,” he says, immediately concerned. “what’s it doing now?”

you make something up on the spot, some vague, convoluted problem that doesn’t actually exist, but he still goes along with it. walks you through another set of steps, laughs ok when you struggle, and just—keeps talking to you.

and this time, you swear he’s stalling, too.

—

it becomes a thing. you call every couple of days with some tech issue you made up, and he never questions it, just helps you like normal and talks to you like he’s actually happy to hear your voice. (spoilers: he is)

until the one time you say, “ugh, this laptop hates me,” and he hums thoughtfully before going, “you know, for a laptop that’s given you this many problems, you sure seem to like using it.”

does this mean he knows?

“what?” you say, playing dumb.

“i mean, you’ve had, what, like five different issues this week?” he teases. “i’m starting to think you just like calling tech support.”

heat rushes to your face. “okay, first of all,” you say, indignant. “it was three times.”

“mmhm.”

“second of all,” you start, then stop. because what is your second point? that he’s right? that you do like calling tech support? or, more specifically, that you like calling him?

“whatever,” you mumble instead, hoping he can’t hear how flustered you are.

but if the way he’s laughing is any indication, he totally can.

—

a week later, you take it one step further.

you don’t call this time. you show up.

you made a small google search to find the address of tech co, the store he works at, before stepping inside with a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing under your skin. you don’t even know what he looks like, but somehow, you just know when you see him.

he’s standing behind the counter, light brown hair, slightly messy, sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms. he’s cuter than you imagined—not just cute, but like, unfairly pretty. and when his eyes meet yours, shining with kindness, you know you made the right call.

“hi,” you say, leaning onto the counter.

“hey,” he says back, smiling. “fancy seeing you here.”

“yeah, well. my laptop broke again,” you say, suppressing a grin.

he raises an eyebrow. “oh, did it now?”

“yeah.. completely fried. tragic, really.”

“oh, so tragic,” he echoes, playing along.

you both know you’re full of shit. neither of you really care.

“so,” he leans in just a little, resting his arms on the counter, closer to you. “now that i’ve seen you in person, should i expect more tech issues? or was this a one time thing?”

you laugh, feeling a little bold. “you think i’d come to your job just to say it’s a ‘one time thing’?”

“i hope not,” he says with a slightly nervous smile.

your heart flips. he’s so cute.

“well, it’s not,” you say, mustering all your courage. “‘cause, you know, i’ve got a real issue that could use your help.”

his grin widens. “mmhm. and what would that be?”

“i need your number. y’know, in case of emergency. i mean, what if my laptop explodes?”

he blinks.

then he laughs—soft, surprised, pleased—before pulling a receipt from the register and scribbling something on it.

when he slides it over, his fingers brush yours, and you think, yeah. totally worth it.

© slcmml

[dulcescorderitas]

Hi, I've been addicted to reading your Supernatural writings! Until Season 4 I was always a Sam girl but reading your content, and experiencing Dean in later seasons has been something else for sure. I had a dream with him after reading the "sex in the impala" fic!

Could I request a Dean x reader, where they are between hunts/on the road the boys and reader make a pitstop at a bar in a small town? Reader and Dean have had several "almost" moments but Dean has been too stubborn to admit anything, and reader is waiting on him to make the move. At this bar a man approaches reader and Dean gets hot under the collar about it when he realises the guy is interested in her. I haven't read anything of Dean being protective but I think we all know he would be!

Thank you 💜

dulce’s notes: thank you so much! i’m so happy you like my writing, and i hope this gave you all the protective dean goodness you were craving! let me know if you want more <3

it starts with the hum of the impala's engine, smooth and familiar, rolling over cracked asphalt under a sky painted with the last smudges of daylight. sam’s in the passenger seat, half-asleep against the window, and you’re in the back, watching the world slip by in the reflection of dean’s rearview mirror. he catches your gaze, holds it for a second too long, then looks away, shifting gears like the sudden tension between you is something he can outrun.

the town is a nothing kind of place, just a few gas stations, a diner, and a bar with a neon sign that flickers like it's got one foot in the grave. you’re barely out of the car before dean’s already making a beeline for the bar, shoulders tense, jaw working like there’s something under his skin.

there have been moments. too many, really. times when he looked at you like he wanted to carve his name into your skin with his teeth, times when his hands lingered too long on your waist after patching you up, his fingers pressing into your flesh like he was memorizing the shape of you. there was that night in a motel, after a hunt went sideways, where he’d almost kissed you—where his breath was warm against your lips, his eyes dark and wild, but then he pulled away like the world was ending and he couldn’t afford another casualty.

so now, you wait. wait for him to get his head out of his ass, wait for him to stop acting like wanting you is a goddamn death sentence.

inside, the bar is dim, smelling of spilled whiskey and bad decisions. a jukebox in the corner is spitting out an old zeppelin song, and dean, true to form, is already leaning against the counter, ordering a round. you slide onto the stool next to him, close enough that your thigh brushes against his, and he tenses for half a second before relaxing into it like it doesn’t mean anything.

it means everything.

sam, being sam, disappears into a booth with a book and a beer, leaving the two of you at the bar. you take a sip of your drink, feel the warmth of it slide down your throat, but before you can even settle into the moment, you feel someone approaching.

he’s tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of smile that’s meant to be charming. “haven’t seen you around here before,” he says, his voice thick with the drawl of someone who’s spent his life in places like this. his eyes skim over you, appreciative, lingering in a way that makes your skin itch—not because he’s looking, but because you can feel dean beside you, his body going stiff, his grip on his glass tightening just a little too much.

“just passing through,” you say, noncommittal, but the guy isn’t deterred. he leans in, all easy confidence, and dean shifts beside you, exhaling slow through his nose like he’s trying real hard not to say something he’ll regret.

“can i buy you a drink?” the guy asks, and you don’t even have time to open your mouth before dean does it for you.

“she’s good,” he says, voice flat, edged with something sharp. possessive.

the guy blinks, looks between the two of you, like he’s just now noticing the way dean’s sitting so close, the way his arm has draped itself over the back of your chair, fingers just barely brushing against your shoulder.

“didn’t realize you two were—”

“we’re not,” you interrupt, and dean’s head snaps toward you so fast you can feel the heat of his glare. you don’t look at him. you keep your gaze on the man in front of you, a slow smile tugging at your lips as you take another sip of your drink. “but he sure as hell acts like we are.”

dean scoffs, mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘damn right i do,’ but the guy gets the message. he raises his hands in surrender, offers you a wink and a “maybe next time,” before disappearing back into the crowd.

the silence between you and dean is thick enough to choke on. he doesn’t move his arm from the back of your chair, doesn’t lean away, doesn’t give you any space at all. instead, he turns to face you fully, eyes burning into you like he’s trying to set you on fire.

“you got somethin’ to say?” he asks, low, dangerous.

you tilt your head, considering. then, “do you?”

tension snaps like a live wire. his jaw clenches, his fingers flex against his glass, and then suddenly he’s up, grabbing your wrist, pulling you off your stool and toward the back of the bar where it’s dark and quiet, where the air smells like aged wood and cigarette smoke.

he backs you up against the wall, hands braced on either side of your head, caging you in. his breath is warm, whiskey-scented, and his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them.

“you like pushin’ me, don’t you?”

you smile, slow and sharp. “someone’s gotta do it.”

dean exhales, tilts his head down, his nose brushing against yours, and for a second—for a single, breathtaking second—you think he’s finally gonna do it, finally gonna close the distance and give in to the thing that’s been simmering between you for months.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he presses his forehead against yours, breathes you in, then pulls back, his hands dropping away like he’s just barely won a fight with himself.

“finish your drink,” he mutters, voice rough. “we’re leavin’ soon.”

he walks away before you can say anything, before you can call him a coward, before you can grab him by the collar and kiss him stupid like you’ve wanted to for so damn long.

you press your back against the wall, exhale slow, and try to steady the wild rhythm of your heart.

one day, you think. one day, he’s gonna break.

and when he does—you’ll be waiting.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts

[twistedpink]

Who’s your valentine? @/cafekitsune banner

And the spinner says….

Riddle + happy accidents + opposites attract

There are people that prefer the night life, and there’s morning people. Happy people, sad people, blue people, red people, etc,, Most people would prefer keeping a healthy distance from the olive queendom hq parking lot. In this, you are most people.

“My car! VANDALS!”

Your very own manager stands tensely in the underground lot, grumbling next to a knifed up van- It’s practical, -like something your dad would drool over- and painfully too old for him. (an easy feat, considering he’s the youngest in the office)

You consider turning the other way and walking home.

You can’t. And not because your sense of morality finally got updated-

But if you squint and tilt your head just right, for a second, he looks kinda.. Cute? Lost-cute, tutor/airhaid-cute, pathetic-cute, you get the idea. With Riddle, it hits you even deeper because this vibe is rare.

It might just be the lowlights, or the lack of rbf for once, or the “single on Valentine’s Day” hallmark phenomena, but he’s totally coffeeshop meet-cute material!

He’s staring up at the ceiling like it owes him money when you jog up, and his pupils dilate. hard. You didn’t know he had any emotion besides “angry” and “veiled angry”, but you learn something new everyday!

You don’t need to ask to know his address- it’s been the reluctant cool down spot of many post office party benders, but he appreciates the sentiment when you prompt him for it anyways.

All the hr briefings and team meetings basically leak out of your head the second your brain starts humming with the energy of mm, boy smell,, With the dull ache behind your eyes, and the caffeine shakes hitting you decide that you’ll atleast try to violate policy tonight- It’s been way too long since you’ve had a proper date (Not at the olive queendom or Minigolf, but something romantic!), and with Riddle it’s easy to guess that once you kiss the hell out of this boy, that he’ll insist on it. (Yknow, if you don’t crash your car on the way,,)

“I couldn’t ask to inconvenience one of my employees like this…”

“Good thing you’re not asking! It’d just be rude to let you pay for a two hour flyber, let me do this for you.”

You open up the passenger side of your pickup just to flick the squished fry off his seat, and you delight with how quickly his face turns from nervous first date to saw trap reaction. This is gonna be a long drive, and for once, you’re excited to hang out with a colleague!

“So, anyone special you’ll be seeing tonight?”

“Perish the thought! My work is far more important than some rendezvous,”

.

With all this driving and bickering, it makes you wonder just how he values rules. You hope he lies about his least favourite ones- it’s not like anyone would catch him! Even with your tongue in his moth, he still hasn’t stopped mumbling about queen of hearts-section 5 rule 295.

Allegedly, that rule dictates that the queen must kiss someone before the clock strikes twelve on Valentine’s Day! Being the his most benevolent employee, the car is parked on some backroad (your ears are still ringing from the lecture), some lover’s lane ass music is playing, and you’ve definitely kissed enough to fulfill the conditions.

With your hands cupping his face, and his leg across yours in the back seat, the two of you just can’t stop meeting in the middle,,

“Hah! Wouldn’t this count as ‘indecent exposure’? I’d hate for us to get arrested, queenie.”

“Not in this area. I’d say we’re far enough away from the typical public sectors to be within the law, and- you were kidding? Nevermind! We must follow her majesty’s word to the letter! I’m supposed to wish you a ‘happy Valentine’s Day’ now.”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mere!!”

Hope you guys like the new format better! It’s all thanks to my beta reader @/Echosofmortality <3

[imjustasimpxd]

Something Old, Something New

(Chapter Two)

➬ Ken Sato x Fem reader

Summary : At first glance, Ken Sato seemed to have it all. With money, fame, and success surrounding his name, there was nothing he couldn’t get his hands on. They say money can buy happiness. That may be true to an extent, however, can money buy forgiveness? Unfortunately for Ken, no amount of money and influence can turn back time and change the past. No amount of bribery can erase the fact that he had chosen to abandon his wife in favor of pursuing his baseball career. That awful decision he made took place five years ago, when he was just starting out as a professional athlete. But now that he’s matured and had time to reflect on his actions, can he hope for a chance to rekindle his marriage? Or should he accept defeat and live with the consequences of letting the only woman he’s ever truly loved slip away from him?

Word count : 4k words

Warnings : nothing really in this chapter, mentions of abandonment and neglect, mentions of regret, angst

Author’s notes : comments and reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on

Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : This fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

Please read first!

Hi guys, so, I started a bookstagram! I know a lot of you have expressed a love for my writing on Tumblr, so, to further support me, I would appreciate it if you guys could support my bookstagram too! I am thankful for every one of you and I'm grateful to have such sweet people like you guys who support me through my writing.

Here's the link to my bookstagram :)

Now, please enjoy the new chapter! Love you guys! <3

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

Kenji glanced upwards, watching his father walk into the bedroom; his movements a bit wobbly as he gripped his cane, shifting his weight on it with every step. “No, it’s okay Dad.” Kenji smiled and shook his head, his eyes turning back towards the suitcase he was piling clothes into. “I appreciate the offer but,” He paused, letting out a sigh as he folded another clean shirt and placed it inside his luggage. “This is something I have to do on my own.” 

Letting out a silent huff of effort, Kenji’s father made his way to his son’s side, his eyes narrowing in an analytical gaze at the contents of the suitcase. The old man stayed quiet for a moment, letting out a soft hum, as if to show an outward display of the wheels turning inside his head. A playful smirk strung across Kenji’s lips after seeing his father’s expression, knowing exactly what he was doing. Even in his old age, the man never seemed to grow out of his perfectionistic habits, always looking for opportunities to improve what was in front of him; even if it was just something as simple as helping pack his son’s suitcase. 

“What? Did I forget something?” Kenji asked, his tone playful as he observed his father’s contrasting gaze.

“You need one of your suits.” The old man spoke, as if the statement was obvious. He then turned away, limping over towards Kenji’s closet, entering the luxurious space and scanning its perimeter with an inquisitive stare. 

“You think so?” Kenji spoke up, following behind his father curiously. “I mean, I’m only going to be staying a few days or so. At least, that’s only if she doesn’t call the police the moment she sees me.” He let out a quiet laugh, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, as if the thought of you doing that didn’t make his stomach turn with nausea. The scenario itself was a bit of an exaggeration, he didn’t actually think you’d resort to calling the cops on him. That wasn’t like you. But still, even if you didn’t send for reinforcements, you were bound to be displeased with him; or even outright angry. And in all honesty, he couldn’t exactly blame you for that if you did happen to react with bitterness upon seeing him again. He had been a sorry excuse for a husband after all, so your anger would be justified. 

“It doesn’t matter how long you’re staying. You need to look your best if you want to win her back.” His father argued, his fingers caressing past the designer suits hung on the closet rack, shuffling by each one to find something suitable for his son to wear. 

“Win her back?” Kenji let out a dry laugh, a little shocked by his father’s confidence in the success of that likelihood. “I don’t know about that, Dad. What makes you so sure she’d even want me back?” 

The old man looked up, his eyes narrowing at his son with confusion; not appreciating the negative self-talk he was hearing. “Why wouldn’t she want you back?” 

Kenji crossed his arms and shifted his weight, his shoulder leaning against the doorway of the walk-in closet, letting an apprehensive laugh escape his lips. “I don’t know, maybe because I practically ditched her in favor of my baseball career.” His tone was diffident as he spoke, clearly stemming from a lack of self-confidence on the subject. “I mean, I don’t think most women want to feel like a single woman in their own marriage.” He spoke with a smile, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to laugh it off.

It was a force of habit for Kenji to downplay things; pretending not to care and masking his insecurities behind that veil of charisma he often resorted to. After all the years he spent bottling things up for interviews and fan events, it was basically second nature for him now. It was his retreat, a desperate attempt at control. An effort to save face and convince others that he wasn’t hurting, as if his heart wasn’t twisting with guilt and anxiety. He had a reputation to uphold as a legend, not some frail human being. 

But his father wasn’t convinced. He knew him better than that. And no amount of humor could reassure a worried parent. 

“But she won’t feel like that, not anymore.” The old man spoke, shifting his weight on that cane once again so he could slowly make his way back over towards his son who stood in the doorway. “You’ve changed, Kenji. Don’t discredit yourself and the progress you’ve made by pretending you’re the same man you were five years ago.” He spoke with such conviction, such confidence in his son’s transformation and maturity; much more than Kenji himself could ever claim to have. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are now, and I have no doubt she’ll recognize that. Even if it may take a little while.” He lifted his hand to give his son a soft pat on the back, his thumb gently digging into Kenji’s shoulder. His grip was strong despite his old age, and his gaze was a mix between affection and seriousness. 

The warm smile on his father’s face was a touching sight, a reminder of the diligent effort they’ve both put in over the last few years to improve their broken relationship. In the past, Kenji never noticed anything more than guilt and shame whenever his father looked at him, but now his gaze was tender and encouraging. A testament to the healthy relationship they now maintained as father and son. 

Having such natural and pleasant interactions with his father was not something that Kenji had previously thought possible, but it was his new normal now; and had been for the past five years. It didn’t happen overnight of course, there was a lot of resentment and grudges to work through first, but, they got there in the end, didn’t they? After so many years of missed calls and absences from holiday gatherings, Kenji and his father finally achieved the wholesome bond they’d always strived for. 

Foolish or not, that reality gave Kenji some hope towards his pursuit to win back his ex-wife. She may hate him at first, she may refuse to forgive him in the beginning, but hopefully, with time and patience, their relationship could be revived; just like Kenji had done with his father. 

“Thanks Dad.” Kenji’s expression softened, his hand lifting to rest atop his father’s, returning his affectionate pat. “I think I needed that.” He spoke, a vulnerable smile stringing across his lips. 

“You’re welcome.” His father returned the smile, his head tilting in a heartfelt manner. “But that’s beside the point.” The old man’s voice reentered the air in a quick and hurried manner, his body turning away with the help of his cane and retreating back into the closet, returning to the luxury suits he was inspecting earlier. “We still need to pick your suit.” His fingers brushed across the fabrics as he spoke, evaluating both appearance and quality as he sifted through them. When his eyes finally settled upon what he deemed to be a suitable option, he gently grabbed the hanger and carefully pulled the suit off the rack, turning it so Kenji could see. “You’ll wear this one.” 

Kenji’s eyes shifted up and down, scanning the suit his father was holding out to him. It was a black suit jacket with pants to match, underneath the set adorned a grey vest and black tie to complete the look. It was one of his more expensive suits, one that gave off a classier feel than the others. It was definitely a head turner, and if his ex-wife saw him in that it couldn’t hurt his chances of winning her back. 

Kenji smiled and nodded his head, speaking in agreement. “I’ll make sure to pack it.” 

“So, Miss L/N,” The woman smiled at you, her legs crossed as she sat up in the chair, making sure to appear sophisticated in front of the large audience. “Tell us about the ending of your book.” She spoke, her tone intrigued, as if she was genuinely interested in hearing your answers instead of simply maintaining a perky façade for the reporters. “Most romance novels end with a happy ending, but in yours, the couple goes their separate ways. Why did you decide to do that? Are you planning to write a sequel to continue their love story?” 

“Well,” you began with a smile, clearing your throat softly, trying not to let your nervousness show in front of a room full of attentive ears. “I’m not entirely sure yet if I want to do a sequel. I think the ending is fine just the way it is for now.” You spoke, your eyes fixated on the interviewer, hardly able to even see the audience with the stage lights centered around you. 

“I agree.” The woman spoke up immediately, her body leaning forward with interest. “So many romance novels end with some cheesy happy ending where the guy and the girl get back together. It’s overdone. We need more of these types of stories, where the woman finds her worth elsewhere instead of from the male lead.” She rambled on, her voice passionate and eager, as if this was a topic she’d invested a lot of thought and credence into. 

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed a bit awkwardly, not really sure what to say in response to her subtle projection of a “strong independent woman” agenda. It was clear she had taken on a more rancorous point of view, convinced that the ending of your story was a push for women empowerment rather than the simple decision to conclude it as an open-ended denouement; as if to say “who knows what will happen in their futures.” 

“I feel like the ending really resonated with you in your own way, I’m glad to know you enjoyed it.” You spoke politely, not wanting to spoil her fun by correcting her interpretation of your novel’s conclusion. Everyone has the right to elucidate their own version of a story, that’s the beauty of literature. And who were you to rectify her? 

“Of course I enjoyed it!” The woman said with a smile, turning towards the audience now as she continued. “I think everyone enjoyed it, right?” She stated, the crowd responding with murmurs and hums that formed a collective “yes.” “See?” She turned back towards you as she laughed, her expression still bright and cheerful. 

You gave her a gracious smile in response, squinting under the glow of the stage lights as you looked out over the sea of people. “I appreciate everyone’s support and feedback. This book was very personal for me and so I’m happy to know that you guys appreciated it.” 

The crowd responded with applause, some people shouting compliments, others cheering. The interviewer let the audience express their support for a moment before she spoke up again. “Are there any questions for Miss L/N?” She asked, her inquiry reciprocated with a show of hands from the crowd. 

One by one, the interviewer chose people to stand, allowing them to voice their thoughts. Some people asked questions about the book itself, while most of the reporters probed about your personal life, anxious to get the latest scoop on any private affairs you were attempting to keep silent.

You answered their questions politely, successfully changing the topic each time someone asked something a bit too invasive. You had dealt with their interrogative tactics before, and you weren’t intimidated by it. You had grown accustomed to simply “smiling and nodding” throughout their inquiries. However, that smile abruptly faded when the next person was chosen to stand and ask their question. Your heart felt like it stopped the moment you heard that voice, his voice. One you hadn’t heard in over five years.

“Miss L/N, I’m curious to know. You said this book was very personal for you. Does that mean you wrote it based off events that happened in your life?” 

The breath seemed to escape your lungs; your body paused in place as you sat in the cushioned chair on stage.

Was that really him? No, no it couldn’t be. Why would it be? 

You cleared your throat, trying to remain calm, convincing yourself that you were just imagining things. That wasn’t him, just someone with the exact same voice. And as you squinted past the harsh stage lighting, peering out into the crowd to prove your negation, you realized the man had the same exact face too. 

“Um...” You stuttered, feeling a wave of emotions rushing towards the shoreline of your sanity. Shock, bitterness, resentment, hope, longing, anger. Your mind was an assortment of emotions, brewed together into a cocktail of unresolved feelings. 

You recognized his hair, his build, his stupid trademark smirk as he stared at you from the crowd. You didn’t understand why he was here, what he could possibly want after all these years, but there was no denying who he was. The man you divorced five years ago: Ken Sato.

The silence was deafening, your discomfort apparent despite your attempts to remain calm. “Well, um...” You tried to get ahold of yourself. There were reporters in the same room as the two of you, watching your every move. If they sensed drama occurring before their eyes, they’d be sure to rehash it in their most recent article; and then the birth of a juicy news story would commence. You refused to give them a reason to suspect a history between you and the man standing in the audience. You wouldn’t let yourself become “Ken Sato’s past fling” in the latest headline. You had to sedate your anxieties and answer the question, without giving way to any suspicion. 

“I apologize, I didn’t realize you were a fan of my work, Mr. Sato.” You spoke with an artificial laugh, trying to play the situation off as humorous. You smiled at him, attempting to hide your discomfort by faking a flattered façade in front of a crowd of intense staring.

There were murmurs amongst the audience, people whispering and pointing, clearly recognizing him as the famous baseball heartthrob. 

He stared you down with a grin, that nonchalant manner of his bringing back a variety of memories from your repressed marriage. “As shocking as it may be, I like to indulge occasionally.” He chuckled, his head tilting as he gazed at you, almost fondly. “Your work feels very relatable, that’s why I wanted to know if you wrote your book based off true events.” 

Your eyes suddenly widened at his words, realizing what he was getting at. You had been so preoccupied with panic at his unexpected presence that his question hadn’t even registered until now. He wanted to know if your book was written in resemblance to your marriage with him, you understood that now. A sense of bitterness engulfed your heart at his attempt to interrogate you here and now, in front of everyone. Even though you two were the only people aware of the history between you both, you didn’t appreciate his efforts to pry information out of you by use of subtle wording. You straightened your posture, your expression becoming firmer and more guarded now. You weren’t going to let history repeat itself, you refused to be tormented by him again.

“No, Mr. Sato. My novel does not reflect my life in any way, it is simply fiction.”  You knew it was a lie, and by the look in his eyes as he stood in the audience, you figured he knew it too. But even so, you refused to admit it, to give him the satisfaction of hearing it out loud. 

It wasn’t clear whether she sensed the tension between you both, or if she simply realized they needed to wrap things up, regardless, the interviewer spoke up, her tone enthusiastic as she encouraged Ken to sit down. “If that is all the questions you have, Mr. Sato, I believe there are other people waiting.” The woman spoke with a smile, making you feel relieved at the change of topic. 

“Of course. Please, continue.” Ken spoke, nodding his head politely before taking a seat once more. 

You were thankful for the chance to breathe at least, to allow yourself a moment of recovery before you had to answer the next person’s question. You tried to stay focused on getting through the interview, your eyes fixated on the woman in the chair next to you as she spoke. You didn’t dare look out over that audience once again, in fear that your eyes would meet with someone you thought would’ve remained a memory of your past. 

You didn’t understand why he was here, why he would show up after all this time; and at one of your book tour events no less. How did he even find out you’d be here? I guess, if he was following the tour dates, he could’ve easily figured that out. But still, the question of “why” was a mystery in and of itself. Like some annoying pop song repeating in your mind for the next few hours. 

What reason could he possibly have for coming back, had something been leaked to the news that you didn’t realize? How long was he planning on being around? Was this some cheap attempt to rekindle a past love for the sake of entertainment during his stay in America? Or worse, had he come back to gloat? 

Whatever his reasoning was, it had your brain scrambling to stay focused throughout the entirety of the interview. Just ten more minutes, two more minutes, ten more seconds until finally, you heard the words “thank you so much for joining us, we’ll see you next time” and you knew you were finally free. You walked backstage almost immediately after that, praying you’d avoid any further confrontation with the man you so desperately hoped to avoid. Unfortunately, it seems your prayers weren’t answered this time around, because just as you made your way to the back parking lot, speed walking towards your car, a voice made your heart clench in panic. 

“Got time to sign an autograph?” 

You paused, your heels scraping against the pavement as you came to a halt in the middle of the parking lot. You knew there was no getting out of this, he would just follow you to your car if you kept walking, he was stubborn and self-entitled like that. Better to just get the hard part over with and see what he wants instead of letting the questions continue to torment you. That way, at least you’d know what he was here for, and could prepare some sort of restraining order in case he came back for selfish reasons.

So, reluctantly, you turned your head, your eyes falling upon the silhouette of the man you once called your husband. You could seem him better now in the daylight, rather than the dim view you had earlier in the auditorium. And though you wouldn’t admit it, he looked good. Better in fact. He had always been attractive, that much was certain. But as he approached you now, with that fitted shirt and those business casual slacks, you felt your cheeks beginning to heat up; and that sense of determination to drive him away seemed to be forgotten momentarily. 

“…Hello Ken. It’s been a while.” You managed out a response, trying your best to sound calm and nonchalant. 

“Yeah, it has.” He walked up to you, stepping closer than you assumed he would. “I see you’re doing well. Bestselling author, huh?” 

“Oh...” You paused for a moment, expecting some sort of interrogation instead of this casual conversation that was currently taking place. “yeah... yeah it’s been a wild ride.” You let out a laugh, trying to take the edge off your awkwardness. 

He was staring at you fondly, as if the two of you were old friends just catching up; as if your marriage hadn’t ended in shouting and a slam of the front door. 

“Listen, uh...” He shifted his weight a bit, slipping a hand in the pocket of his dress pants. “I don’t know if you’re busy, but, I’m in town this week and so,” He looked up, his eyes fixated on you, analyzing every slight change in your facial expressions as he continued. “If you’re free, it would be nice to grab a drink or something.”

You felt your heart race at his words, shock and confusion filling the entirety of your brain, leaving you dumfounded before him. 

He wanted to go out? To “catch up?” Why? Did he need something? Was this a genuine attempt at resurrecting your failed marriage? Or had your newfound fame and social status brought him back instead? 

You couldn’t tell. He seemed to be acting friendly, friendlier than you expected. But then again, this was your arrogant, self-absorbed, ex-husband we were referring to here. This couldn’t have been genuine, could it? 

Could so much really have changed in the past five years? Could he really be a different person now than the one you divorced back then? 

I guess it’s possible, but, then again, the only way to know for sure was to accept his offer, and you weren’t exactly ready to take that chance just yet. 

“Um, I’m on tour actually, so I’m gonna be pretty busy this whole week.” 

It wasn’t a lie, at least; you had your schedule full of book signings and fan events almost every day this week. You knew you could’ve probably squeezed in an hour or two just to have a couple drinks with him, but, you weren’t exactly eager to prioritize someone who never reciprocated your effort in the past. 

“Oh, okay.” He glanced away, his hand reaching to caress the nape of his neck a bit awkwardly. “Yeah, I get it. Just, um…” He paused for a moment, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Just let me know if you have some free time, okay?” 

“Yeah, sure.” You smiled nervously, trying to sound polite. “I just... I gotta be somewhere right now.” You clutched your purse a bit tighter around your fingers as you began to take a step back, trying to escape from your ex-husband’s advances. “But um… I’ll see you later.” 

He didn’t move, he didn’t try to prolong the conversation. He simply nodded and lifted his hand to give you a subtle wave. “Yeah, see you.” He spoke, his tone sounding a bit defeated, as if he could tell you were just turning him down nicely. 

You almost felt bad after seeing that hint of despondency in his gaze, but you didn’t act on it. You smiled politely and turned away, heading across the parking lot to retreat to your vehicle. A breath of relief escaped your lips the moment you shut the car door, feeling safe in confines of the automobile. 

What a day this had turned out to be.

But you didn’t dwell on it for too long. You actually did have somewhere to be, and as you pulled out your phone from your purse, you realized you should get going before you risked being late. So, after switching the gear shift into reverse and pulling out of your parking spot, you drove off, leaving a more somber version of your ex-husband behind to watch as you exited the parking lot.

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Keep in mind that commenting to tell me what you liked, what you don't, how I can improve, and any suggestions you have, helps me A LOT more than simply liking my posts. If you've had the time to read my story, how much longer does it take to leave me some feedback on it? :)

[lunarleonardo]

got jumpscared with chapter 15 when school ended,,,, i can sleep peacefully at night now ❤️

commentary time!! I’M SO SO HAPPY THAT KOKICHI FINALLY REALIZES HE’S SAFE NOW WAAAHHH PRECIOUS BOY :[ i remember in motive 5 it was said that kokichi used anger to cope,,,, is that why he’s so mad? question mark???

kokichi please don’t pull an ia!shuichi. (doomed) YAOI BEAM!!

I do not remember m5 saying that but if you're saying it did you're probably right XD some of you guys know my fics better than i do (occpugh cough @k0k1ch1111)

Anyways, that's partially why! It also has to do with the fact that there's really no one else to be angry at right now. He's been suppressing it and hiding it from the people torturing him to try and save himself even just a little bit, and that's because he knew those people would hurt him. Now, he's around only two people: one, the mastermind, who he has already given into working for if he needs to, and two, Shuichi, the one person he feels safe around. AKA, the one person he knows won't hurt him. And it's a Lot easier to be mad at someone knowing they're not gonna hurt you, isn't it? It's kind of unfortunate for Shuichi, 'cause he's just taking on the brunt of a LOT of repressed anger from Kokichi, but they'll work it out! "Angst with a Happy Ending" is there for a reason!! Stay strong yaoi nation we're almost there!!!

Anyways thank you!!! <3 I really appreciate these commentary asks lol they make me happy :P

[dreamsicle262]

Dead Plate AU Information

This is a masterpost detailing my AUs for Dead Plate, which may soon become their own fanfics—if given enough time—since I plan on trying to write out a few. There's a lot of text so be warned: there's a long post underneath the cut. I tried to describe character designs when necessary because there's currently no images like character sheets/references yet. Hopefully I'll get there. This post might be edited if I have more AU ideas, or if I add pictures.

As a note beforehand, I do have a headcanon involving Vincent not having a sense of smell, since being able to taste goes hand in hand with being able to pick up on scents. If he can’t taste things, then he likely cannot smell anything either. This headcanon remains consistent with him in these universes, unless stated otherwise.

Vampire AU

Dead Plate, but Vincent is a vampire. That’s pretty much what this AU is.

At some point prior to the events of Dead Plate, Vincent got turned into a vampire. He has only been dealing with it for a short amount of time, and his fangs have been taking quite a while to grow in. He didn’t really think anything of it at first. He still couldn’t taste foods, his appetite generally remained low, and he usually didn’t experience hunger very strongly.

He does murder Manon still. It’s during this time that Vincent is suddenly aware that he’s able to smell blood. Naturally, he figures that if he can smell blood, then he might be able to taste it. However, he doesn’t drink any of Manon’s blood to test this; whatever she has to offer he’s not interested in. It’s at this point that his plans have changed, and figuring out if he can actually taste something aside from nothing at all becomes his main priority. The whole ‘cooking with love’ thing is put off to the side for the time being. This could be attributed to him being selfishly inclined.

It's only when Rody accidentally cuts open his finger the next day that things change, and he actually does take the opportunity he’s been given to taste test his blood. As expected, this is an awkward situation for the both of them afterwards.

I haven’t fully decided on where I’d like to go with this AU to make it any different from the main plot of Dead Plate, but maybe an incident happens during the dinner party or something. I’ll figure it out when I actually get to writing the potential fanfic for this one.

There are no design changes for this AU aside from me giving Vincent fangs. He looks normal otherwise, and his fangs aren’t visible when his mouth is closed. There’s general vampire lore that I use that’s different from what’s usually expected of vampires but that probably doesn’t need to be elaborated here. I’m always open to questions on my AUs for further clarification though.

Florist + butcher AU

Rody is a florist, and Vincent is a butcher.

Vincent wasn’t able to open up a restaurant in this AU, but was content with opening up a butcher shop instead, still providing quality service to his customers in the process. Despite his shop being popular, it isn’t as large as it could be. In order to not put as much pressure on himself, he does have a few employees managing the shop’s orders, which mostly consists of providing custom cuts of meat or preparing special deliveries since his business is still a fairly big deal. Vincent himself mostly deals with the actual butchering in the back, instead of serving customers directly. He’s very picky about where he sources his products from, only accepting offers from places with a track record of animals raised to be high quality. Sometimes, this makes his store’s selections limited, and because it takes time to get new shipments in occasionally due to the distance, the products rotate every two days. Vincent lives above his business.

Rody is a florist, having managed to open up a store by saving up enough money to rent out an available building right next to Vincent’s butcher shop. He did this in order to cope with his break up, and to hopefully impress Manon and get her back. Since he’s managed to start his own business, it’s working out for him, surprisingly. Even if his business is for her sake and not his, at least he’s making progress with some personal growth and success. Rody still has a few issues with sourcing his products if he can’t grow them himself, but is otherwise doing okay. It is due to this reason that he is unable to deliver flowers, and majority of his customers are walk-ins instead. The only exception is if they happen to live nearby and he can reach them that way with his bike. Some of the flowers he sells come from his rooftop garden, which is contained within a greenhouse so he doesn’t go out of business every winter. His new apartment is below this garden, but above his flower shop. It is still considerably messy, but he tries to make improvements where he can.

Manon never had a rebound with Vincent, and was only aware that Rody had opened up a flower shop when he happened to get an advertisement in the newspaper and she saw it. Since then, she has opted to stay in contact with him, and occasionally visits like she used to. She lives somewhat nearby both stores. Given how Rody is making personal progress instead of being too self-sacrificing for her, she’s been trying to encourage him to invest more into his business instead of worrying about her all the time. It’s worked a little bit so far. Sometimes, Rody gives her nice bouquets of flowers that have meanings behind them since he knows quite a lot about flower language now.

Plot-wise, Rody will be staying in his chosen location near Vincent's butcher shop until he has enough money to relocate, but during that time he will get to know Vincent more due to their close proximity to each other constantly. Vincent, while originally annoyed by Rody's presence, starts to become intrigued by him and wants him to stay just so he can observe him some more. Of course, this leads to problems when he catches wind that Rody will be leaving soon, and is later told by Rody himself that he'll soon be 'out of his hair' in another month or so.

In response to this, Vincent starts sabotaging Rody's business by messing with stuff regarding the building (electrical cables, etc etc) and killing off his most frequent customers in order to cook into meals for him as potential bribery to stay. All of this negatively impacts Rody's business, especially financially, so he has to remain where he is longer than expected. He doesn't even know that Vincent is killing his business (quite literally) right next to him.

Design-wise, Rody wears an outfit similar to his casual clothes, but with his shirt buttoned up. His undershirt is a faded mossy green. Over his shirt, he has a dark brown apron with small, white floral patterns embroidered at the bottom to make it more noticeable. He also has an upper left pocket in the apron that he uses to tuck one flower in every day. It is usually roses of varying colors, but can be other flowers that mean love as well. Sometimes, his hair is tied back in a small low ponytail.

Vincent's design remains relatively the same, save for a kind of yellowish apron that goes over his outfit as well, and a pair of black gloves. His apron used to be white, but, given the nature of his work, it ended up giving it a look similar to old and yellowed book pages. It definitely has a few stains on it, but that comes with the job.

Manon retains her usual design. Can't improve perfection.

Zombie apocalypse AU

I had the vague idea for this AU, and @dollsteaparty helped me out with some other bits.

This AU is after the Table for One ending.

The zombie apocalypse happens and Rody primarily remains in his apartment during the beginning of it. He doesn't dare leave, and he doesn't even bother to look outside. The prospect of it scares him shitless, and for good reason. However, at some point he starts running out of food, and he can really only think of one good place in order to stock up. This forces him to finally venture out of his safe haven of his apartment and go back to Vincent's restaurant.

Unfortunately, Vincent is undead by this time, and isn't in a very good shape. His mouth is all fucked up and generally looks kinda like that one doodle in the upper left corner of a page by one of the devs that looked like it was based on a game or something. To make matters worse, he regained his ability to taste when he got turned in the first place, but his jaw is weakened and he can't bite down as well as he'd like or move it as much as he wants to most of the time. He can taste just fine but can't eat well, which has the expected side effect of pissing him off greatly with how ironic it is. Other than that, he's pretty well put together as a zombie, aside from the obvious ravenous behavior and poor muscle control that comes with being one in general.

When Rody does find Vincent, he's in the freezer room, and while Rody is strong enough to hold him off, it quickly becomes annoying to have to do. Eventually he's able to come to a compromise with Vincent, since apparently he's able to be reasoned with even in his current condition. Rody stitches up the sides of Vincent's jaw to the best of his ability to make it look more normal, but his handiwork isn't the best since his hands were so shaky. He was just nervous about them being near Vincent's mouth and the possibility of being bitten that comes with that.

The two then enter a relationship of forced codependency due to Vincent wanting to reopen his bistro even though it's the apocalypse since he's dead set on continuing business as usual and he can finally taste food, and Rody needing a safer place to stay where there's a food supply available, not to mention weapons. In fact, Rody's return helps the restaurant reopen, since beforehand people were too scared to enter the place, and they didn't even know it was technically still functional. It's still clean and everything too, because there was no way in hell Vincent would let his bistro fall into ruin.

The place becomes tense neutral ground where no violence is permitted in the dining area, and people are advised to use their best manners. It's a fine dining establishment and they will act accordingly. Both alive and undead customers show up, but now there's a sign outside the bistro that has a set of rules that everyone has to abide by if they wish to live. Besides, Vincent is capable of either reasoning with or even outright threatening other undead people if they don't act nice to their living counterparts while inside or around his esteemed establishment.

No one can have their weapons out or in view, customers cannot fight amongst themselves, no one except for staff are allowed in the kitchen, don't ask about the screams coming from the freezer, no one is advised to make sudden movements like running (something about predator drive and sudden movements making even valued customers look like prey), no one is advised to send the meals back to the kitchen since they most likely don't want their scent on it (they'll be associated with the food and have to be killed anyways), and if anyone has a problem, they can take it up with Vincent personally in the freezer. True to his word, Vincent still doesn't serve human meat... to his human customers. Any undead customers will usually be consuming human meat in their dishes because they can actually appreciate it.

Rody is the only one allowed to serve the customers in the dining area because all of the cooks working for Vincent are also undead, with the exception of the one cook that was fired since they got rehired. They help to desensitize their undead coworkers to a human in their midst, and also are a familiar face, so they have a lower risk of getting attacked. The zombified cooks and their fear of Vincent overrides any instincts that they might have as zombies, so he's capable of keeping them in line and certainly isn't afraid to enforce his rules in the kitchen. Both Vincent and his employees are in a much better preserved condition than any zombies outside the establishment due to them having access to a functional freezer. Also, Vincent does still pay whoever works for him. Vincent's apartment just upstairs has largely not been used in awhile, so that is where Rody stays, along with people who are looking for a safe place to stay for only one night. Vincent gets oddly upset when there's guests and Rody has to stay with them, but he does know it's for the better. Rody is also responsible for going on resource runs for cleaning supplies or ingredients, and for also stitching up the cooks when necessary.

Speaking of the cooks, sometimes they are put in the freezer on meat hooks as a form of solitary confinement for messing up very badly. They look miserable through that window in the freezer room door and Rody can very clearly see them when this does occur. That one human cook isn't stabbed with the meat hook and is usually just tied to it instead. If Rody gets the same treatment, he is usually tied up and left to sit on the floor for awhile, but typically doesn't remain in there for long since he either has to serve customers or Vincent deems his expression too 'unpleasant to look at' and lets him go anyways.

Character designs aren't too different aside from Vincent looking a little messed up in regards to his jaw, and Rody looking a lot more unkempt.

I also don't know where I'm going with this AU and if I particularly want Rody to be zombified or not... but I did think about a scenario where that would happen, as a treat. He would be turned by Vincent personally if he was dying somehow, and he'd probably try to get to his heart to eat it first before Rody turns completely. Something about wanting to taste what love really tastes like since it's his heart... and for Rody, laying his heart bare (literally in this case) and being able to love in such a way that it practically seems like he's serving his heart on a platter. Very big fan of the character design and what it could mean or show about him. Also I think Rody should lose the ear he lost in the actual game too. Just because.

As for that one human cook, Vincent would probably just get another cook to make them into a zombie if they were on the verge of death. They're not worth his time.

Plushie platonic soulmate AU

(Disclaimer: I actually am not fond of soulmate AUs in the traditional sense (aka almost exclusively romantic in nature) so this is platonic. Vincent is aspec to me in some way to begin with, so there's that too.)

During his emotional turmoil following his break up, Rody receives a mysterious plushie at his doorstep that looks like someone he’s never met before. He doesn’t know who sent it. This plushie is Vincent, but Rody doesn’t really know that yet. He’s heard of him since he’s a world renowned chef, but he’s not very familiar with his appearance. Either way, he reluctantly decides to keep the plushie, before eventually discarding it after it keeps showing up in his kitchen despite him putting it on a shelf somewhere. Also, his utensils seem to move in different places every day, so it’s creeping him out. It’s during this time that he’s looking for a job, but doesn’t take up the opportunity to work for Vincent, and instead opts for a simple fast food job. The Vincent plushie keeps showing up despite Rody’s attempts to get rid of it, so he just gives up and lets it remain in his apartment. One day, he wakes up to a fresh lemon tart, but no evidence that it was baked using his kitchen, especially since he doesn’t even have the ingredients to make that dessert. Beside it is the plushie, sitting there innocently.

On the other side of things, Vincent also receives a plushie of Rody that appears in his apartment one day on his living room table. He simply discards it, uncaring of where it came from. However, it keeps appearing again and again and it’s frustrating him to no end. At some point, he mutilates it with one of his knives, then trashes it again. When it comes back just as new, he puts it in plastic packaging and tosses it out of his window into the alley. When it returns yet again, he finally gets so fed up that he shoves it into the oven and sets it on fire that way. The plushie ends up coming back again and Vincent just puts it on his desk in his room, unwilling to mess with it anymore. He has no idea who the plushie was supposed to be because he’s never seen anyone like that before in his bistro. On top of this being strange, he also feels the strange urge to hide this plushie from Manon, since he doesn’t want her knowing that he has this. It’s unnatural and out of character for him to have something like that when it doesn’t serve any real purpose.

At some point, Rody and Vincent get to find the other person with their plushie counterpart and are both left thoroughly confused as to what it could mean.

Character designs for this AU do not vary.

Vincent forced therapy AU

Funnily enough, this AU came to me in a dream with one vague scene, and then it just went from there after discussing it with @vinylbiohazard. It's also exactly what it sounds like.

This AU is set after the Best Served Hot ending.

Vincent somehow survives after his restaurant was set on fire, but does have severe burns and some blood loss. The only reason why he doesn’t have severe blood loss is because the wound on his neck was cauterized by the flames, so it ended up not bleeding as much anymore. There’s still the glass shards that needed to be dealt with, though, so he does still need medical attention. One of the luckiest factors in this is how his restaurant was running out of cooking oil anyways, which is one of the reasons why he was even able to get out in the first place before his exits were blocked off.

Whenever the information of his bistro burning down becomes public, the general assumption of what happened is that he had been drunk, suddenly ‘snapped,’ and then tried to commit suicide while also taking his business with him. Essentially, his life is ruined, because he doesn’t seem too stable to the general population, and the media is having a field day with headlines. He does end up in the hospital trying to recover, and he’s not permitted to speak much for a while so his neck can heal. He technically still can since his vocal cords weren’t damaged, but it’s best that he doesn’t talk for some time. His neck is still in bad shape, but it could have been worse; the wine bottle that he was stabbed with narrowly missed the major veins and arteries in that area. By the end of everything, he does heal enough to look relatively normal, aside from the burns and scar tissue.

During this time, Rody is laying low at his apartment. He never comes out with the truth regarding his missing ear, and everyone just assumes that he lost it in an unrelated accident for being clumsy. While he would ideally like to stay away from the food industry, he does end up finding another job at a fast food place. When he learns that Vincent is still alive, he’s initially still upset, but since he’s had some time to cool down following the incident, he mostly just feels horrible. After all, he had expressed some concern about Vincent losing everything if something were to happen to his business. While not ready to approach him about it in the direct aftermath, Rody decides that he will try to talk it out with him at a later date.

As it gets closer to the day where Vincent can be released from the hospital, Rody shows up to talk to him, or, more accurately, speak his mind. He can talk to him without being interrupted, so he’s taking his opportunity to explain why he was so upset and why he acted the way he did. Adrenaline and trying to make rational decisions don’t mix well. Vincent has to sit there and listen to Rody rant for a little bit, all while he’s still not supposed to speak. At some point a nurse asks if the two were friends or something, and Rody has to awkwardly go along with it and say yes. Vincent is probably grumbling to himself mentally as this occurs.

Unfortunately, since Vincent’s apartment was above his restaurant, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go but Rody’s apartment following being released from the hospital. Rody’s not too happy with it either, but he’ll manage. In fact, he’s the reason why Vincent even gets to go to therapy in the first place. He’s the one to suggest it.

Vincent keeps taking Rody’s knives in his apartment because he doesn’t use them, they’re sharp, and he’s been considering killing Rody off anyways from being forced to live with him for so long. He has to keep getting them confiscated by Rody due to this. Whenever he’s scheduled to have therapy, however, he brings at least three knives with him and keeps them hidden. He doesn’t actually get to take them into the room where he’s supposed to have a therapy session and he has to begrudgingly give them all back to Rody beforehand. He may have been fully intending on using them to murder the therapist. It doesn’t look good for him, but he essentially has a mentality similar to ‘I’ve lost everything so why does it matter what I do now?’, so he doesn’t care.

There are no design changes for Rody in this AU, but Vincent has a few. There’s scar tissue on the right side of his neck from being stabbed there, as well as burn scars. There’s additional burns on most of his upper torso and arms. Any other burns aren’t as major, and most of them on his body healed over. In the hospital, he had bandages on over these while they were still healing.