#that no one would ever settle down with someone like me

[drunkinyourbenz]

YOU DON'T REALLY NEED A BREAK

☆ SYNOPSIS: in which billie is stressed, so naturally she needs you more than ever. unbenkownst to her, she takes it too far. ☆ PART ONE ☆ RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!reader ☆ WARNINGS: SMUT, use of safe word, angst, fluff, comfort, mean billie, reader is a little bratty, situationship/fwb, angry sex, crying, strap-on, edging, degradation, petnames, name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, toxic dynamic (except less so because billie's realising things hehe), unedited. ☆ REQUESTED: yes, by a bunch of anons ☆ NOTE: y'all read my mind with these reqeusts i was already thinking of writing a part two abt exactly this and you all had the same idea!! sorry this took so long lmao exams are kicking my ass :/ this is very unedited sorry for any mistakes i read it through once and then posted it lmao read part one first for it to make more sense ☆ WORD COUNT: 3.5k words

billie hadn’t texted you in a little over a week, and you almost thought that she wasn’t ever going to again. the last time you’d seen her had ended like all of the other nights, she’d cleaned you up and then left you alone in the silent hotel room. usually, she’d text afterwards, just to make sure you were feeling okay, but there was nothing. the last text between the two of you was when you’d asked where she was when she was late that night. 

the two of you normally hooked up at least a few times a week, and you’d never actually gone a week without her since you started this four months ago.

you thought the worst: someone else had replaced you as her favourite. you’d always thought it would happen, but you thought you might have a few more times before it was over. but from the looks of it, you weren’t ever going to see her again. 

which was fine, obviously. you didn’t care—or that’s what you kept telling yourself. you had agreed to a no-commitment thing when you two started whatever this was, and she could do whatever she wanted. it stung a little bit that she wasn’t doing you, but ultimately, there was nothing you could do about it. 

so when you got home from a long day, thoroughly exhausted, your plan for the night was to hide in your bed and watch 2000s tv shows until you passed out. you showered, taking your time to wash your hair and feeling your tense and tired muscles relax under the hot stream of water. once out of the shower, you changed into some comfortable clothes, flopping down on your bed in relief. you were ready to finally just cuddle up under the blankets like you’d been wishing you could do all day.

about eleven minutes into the gilmore girls episode you were up to—rewatching for the hundredth time—your phone pinged, and you almost just ignored it, but you picked it up with a groan. 

your eyes widened when you saw it was from billie, the last number you expected to text. your heart almost skipped a beat.

billie: come over?

you paused for a moment, conflicted. you truly were exhausted, and it had been such a long day, and all you wanted to do was sleep, you honestly weren’t in the mood for what you knew billie would want. but… it was billie. 

so, inevitably, you ended up at her door. you were still in the clothes you’d changed into the moment you got home, just some comfortable sweatpants and a top—billie wouldn’t care about what you wore, she wanted you to be comfortable. plus, you knew full well that you wouldn’t be wearing them for long. 

you knocked on the door, and it opened within mere seconds, almost as if billie had been waiting by the door for you to show up. from the look on her face, you wouldn’t be surprised. she looked stressed, angry, and desperate. you looked her up and down, your eyes settling on her face. she was wearing a pretty similar outfit to you, sweatpants that hung low on her hips, the “HIT ME HARD AND SOFT” waistband of her boxers peeking out, and a white tank top that you could see the slight hint of her nipples peeking through. her arms were bare and your eyes seemed to gravitate towards the toned muscles there, which never failed to make your brain short circuit. paired with the noticeable outline of her strap in her pants, it was almost too much for you to take. 

you noticed the way her eyebrows were slightly furrowed and her eyes were narrowed in a firm gaze, the frustration was clear on her face. “rough day?” 

she groaned, and when she spoke, her voice had a slight rasp to it, “you have no idea.” 

the two of you fell into silence, just staring at each other for a few long moments. it wasn’t a comfortable silence, it was one that hung in the air around you, a claustrophobic silence. there were words left unspoken between the two of you that poked their heads around the corner but never truly revealed itself, it left you wondering when it would snap, but it never did. the two of you stared at each other for what felt like lifetimes, you waiting for billie to do something, and billie simply savouring the feeling of having you in front of her again. 

finally, she spoke, her voice still holding that same raspiness—which alone could get you on your knees for her. “it’s pathetic that you’re here so fast, considering i ghosted you for a week. you’re just a desperate slut for me, aren’t you? not that you’d be good for anything else.”

the bluntness of her words sent a chill down your spine, this was exactly what you’d expected. why else would billie text you after a week of not talking, if not to use her favourite girl? 

billie continued talking before you could even get a word in, it was like she’d read your thoughts. she leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke, “you know i could just call over any of my girls and they’d be here in a heartbeat, and they’d be exactly the same. pathetic, desperate, and begging.”

you raised an eyebrow at her words. you knew what she was doing, trying to wind you up, get you to act out. you had honestly intended to just be her good girl tonight because you were so tired, but you knew she adored it when you acted up. so you spoke with the bratty tone you knew she loved.

“sure you could. but none of them are here now, are they? you called me.” 

the brattiness, especially when she was in a mood like this, made her eyes light up. your brattiness was her favourite thing, she loved it when you gave her an excuse to be harsher and meaner than she was on a normal day. so, when you talked back to her, she lets out a dark laugh. “don’t fuckin’ test me, mama.” 

you let a soft scoff fall past your lips, “or what?” 

“you know i’ll put you in your place, i’ve done it before.” and then you realised, this was what set you apart. this was why you were her favourite. you weren’t afraid to act up, so she didn’t have to be afraid of taking it too far. she could push you, because you pushed her. “maybe you should. you want to blow off steam, don’t you?”

at your words, her lips twitched upwards into a slight, barely noticeable smirk. you knew she would be taking them as a challenge, “you’re gonna have to drop the bratty attitude eventually, mamas.”

“maybe you should make me.”

that was exactly what she wanted—she wanted you to keep going, keep winding her up. she wanted you to give her a reason to pin you down and tear you apart; and you gave her that reason with that simple suggestion.

she took your wrist in her hand, her grip almost painful as she tugged you behind her to her bedroom. the air felt different than it normally did when you were here, everything felt so tense. her entire body language screamed irritated, dominant. but it wasn’t the normal kind of dominance she normally exuded. billie always had this kind of casual dominance that just hung around her, her presence was just effortlessly assertive. this is different, she had a look in her eyes you hadn’t seen before—she was always mean, but this was her normal level of mean times ten. 

she was clearly in a whole new headspace, not one you were familiar with. this wasn’t just dominant, wasn’t just mean, no, it was something else. she wasn’t just a little stressed, she didn’t just have a little bit of frustration she needed to take out on you, this was worse. it was an almost animalistic kind of energy, one that’s so raw, so intense, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk by the time she was finished with you.

she took one of the belts from her merch from her dresser, shoving you backwards onto the bed and tying your hands to the headboard. she tugged it slightly, making sure it was firm but not too tight. it sent a rush of excitement through you, and you knew she felt the same. 

“gonna use you, mamas,” you knew from those words that she was going to absolutely ruin you, and you could tell by the look in her eyes.

sure enough, no more than five minutes later, she had her strap deep inside of you and was pounding into you at a bruising pace. the strap was bigger than the one she usually used, and it made you ache with a constant stinging pain. she hadn’t given you any time to adjust, and had started as she meant to go on. you were naked and on her bed, with her on top of you, fucking into you at a brutal pace. your hands were still tied up with her belt and the ache it brought only amplified the pleasure. one of her hands had your hair in a firm grasp, solely to make you feel the sting of pain it brought. she wanted to bring you to tears. her other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it before letting her hand fall down on your ass in a harsh slap. 

the intense pleasure of her cock inside you and her finger circling your clit was a perfect contrast to the pain her hands brought you, and a trail of moans fell from your lips. “b-billie-” 

a mean, almost cruel laugh left her lips, “god, you’re such a slut.” another slap landed on your ass, “it’s pathetic, really. i mean, i can ghost you for as long as i want,” another slap. “and you’re still at my door in five minutes as soon as i ask.” slap, “pathetic fuckin’ whore.” 

you whined, which simply made her laugh. in her own sadistic way, she was enjoying this. 

this continued for what felt like hours—maybe it was, you had no idea. every time you got slightly close to your orgasm, she’d pull out, tugging you away from the edge. by now, you had tears rolling down your cheeks, and the fine line between pleasure and pain was slowly but surely being crossed. 

“fuckin’ take it,” she breathed. “god, you look so dumb around my cock. all you’re good for, hm? spreading your legs and taking it like the slut you are?”

you whimpered, and she simply slapped your ass again. 

this continued for much longer, and she wasn’t even mad at you for being bratty, not in the slightest. she just needed an outlet for her bad mood, and that was what you were. merely a way for her to release her frustrations. 

you let out a choked sob, your body trembling, “billie, please, i can’t—” 

you knew she wasn’t doing this because she had anything against you, there had been something deeply wrong with her day. she had never been this downright cruel before, and you knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t act like this without reason. but it was too much, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. she hadn’t asked for your colour even once tonight, and that thought alone was putting you on edge. sure, her being rough turned you on, but right now it was scaring you just as much. this was darker than you’d experienced in all four months of your friends with benefits situation with her, and you weren’t sure if you liked it. 

you felt the strap hit your most sensitive spot, and you let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob. “billie–” 

“like being used by me, yeah? taking everything i give you like a slut?”

you weren’t sure when you realised that you actually weren’t enjoying it anymore, but it was obvious all of a sudden. it hurt, and not in a good way. you were exhausted from both your day and the sheer amount of time she’d been edging you for. the way your arms had been tied to the bed for so long was making them ache painfully, and at some point down the line, your tears of pleasure had turned into tears of pain. 

you normally had the safety net of knowing that she was paying attention to your signals, knowing that she didn’t want to hurt you. but it didn’t even feel like she was aware of what she was doing, she was so caught up in herself and drowning out her own frustrations. you hated that lack of awareness, it was like she wouldn’t even notice if she actually hurt you. 

she looked like she was about to speak again, so before she could get out another degrading comment, you gasped out, “red, billie–”

whatever half formed sentence billie had been about to say died on her tongue, your gasped words making her freeze inside of you. her mind suddenly went silent, her frustrated thoughts about her day coming to a halt as she looked down at you with wide, almost scared eyes. you’d never actually used your safeword—obviously it was something that the two of you had communicated, but billie had never expected to actually go too far, to push you to that. she was meant to check in on your colours, and she felt an intense pang of guilt when she realised that she hadn’t done that. 

as she looked at you, noticing the tears and the exhausted expression, as well as the way your wrists were visibly sore from being tied for so long, she felt a sense of dread. she was overcome with shame and she didn’t know what to do about it. her breath caught in her throat as she processed what was going on.

“shit, i’m so sorry.” after a moment, she shook herself out of her paralysed shock, she would’ve pulled out immediately, but she was aware that that would just hurt you even more. so she leaned over, quickly untying the belt around your wrists and letting it fall to the ground beside the bed. she massaged your wrists gently for a moment, trying to soothe you. 

her hands moved over your tense muscles, trying to ease some of the soreness. she brushed some of your hair out of your eyes, her touch soft and cautious. “i-i’m so sorry, baby. i never wanted to push you that far.”

you knew that. you knew that she would never actually intend to hurt you, you knew that she wasn’t herself. you didn’t need her to over explain herself, you just needed her to hold you. the hand that had been pushing your hair out of your eyes moved to stroke your cheek, and you could see the intense guilt in her eyes. 

“i’m gonna pull out now, okay?” her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, eyes fixed on your face. 

you simply nodded, hissing slightly in pain as she gently pulled the strap out of you. billie felt her stomach twist at your obvious pain, knowing that she had done that. “i know, i’m so sorry.”

once she was out of you, she climbed off you and gently shifted you so you were sitting further up the bed, propped up on the pillows slightly. her mind was clearly racing with what she could do to help, “do you need anything? water, food, whatever?”

you shook your head softly. if your brain hadn’t been so exhausted, you probably would have thought more rationally about this. but you didn’t, and you didn’t once consider the limited affection in your dynamic. “can you just hold me?” 

billie didn’t hesitate, she just nodded instantly. “yeah, of course i can.” she joined you further up the bed, pulling you into her arms. she held you against her chest gently, her fingers soothingly running through your hair while her hand rubbed your back softly. 

you could hear her heartbeat, it was fast and a clear reminder of how stressed she was. you spoke softly, “it’s okay, seriously.”

but it wasn’t okay, not to billie. she had hurt you, she had pushed you too far, even when you were already clearly tired. she should’ve known better, and the guilt was weighing down from her and eating her up from the inside. not to mention she was terrified that this might be your last straw, that you might never want to see her again, that she might have broken your trust. wondering why she cared so much about her casual fling’s feelings was something that would have left her perplexed on any other day, but it was not currently at the forefront of her mind. “but–”

“it’s okay.” you said firmly, “i wouldn’t be asking you to hold me if i was uncomfortable around you.” 

those words seemed to ease billie’s nerves slightly, and she tightened her arms around you, holding you close. after a few minutes of this, she gently pulled you to sit in your lap, and you shifted so that your head was buried in the crook of her neck. you could feel her breathing on your skin, and you could feel her chest rising and falling with each breath. it was incredibly grounding, the feeling of just being close to her. ever so slowly, you felt your breathing calm and your heart rate slow down. 

at least an hour passed as you were just laying there in her arms, your breathing syncing with hers as her fingers ran through your hair. it was a foreign thing, for the two of you to be this close without sex, but it felt so right. it was like you were made to be in her arms, despite the situation that had brought you here. you could sense her guilt, and if you’d been a bit more aware of what was going on, you probably would’ve realised that there was something more behind that guilt—something deeper than just feeling bad for pushing you. but you were unaware, it wasn’t really what took place at the front of your mind. 

the room was filled with only the sound of both of you breathing, and your mind was taken over by the calming feeling of her playing with your hair. after a while, she broke the silence. “d’you wanna borrow something to wear?” 

you couldn’t deny that you liked the feeling of this skin to skin contact, but you also knew that it was a good idea. so you nodded quietly, and she delicately lifted you off her lap and set you down on the bed. she walked over and grabbed you an oversized t-shirt to wear, and she walked into the ensuite to grab a damp cloth. she came back over and gently wiped your thighs with the cloth, at this point you didn’t flinch too much because it had been so long. she held out the t-shirt, which you recognised as one she had worn at some point.

“arms up, darling.” that was a new pet name, but you didn’t comment. instead, you just lifted your arms and allowed her to slip the top over your head. it smelt like her, which somehow just added to the comfort. 

soon enough, she was back on the bed and you were back in her arms. she was laying down and you were laying with her, partly on top of her and partly just cuddled up to her side. this hadn’t happened before between the two of you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. her bed was comfortable, and her arms around you felt like a cocoon you never wanted to grow out of. 

gradually, your breathing started to slow as the exhaustion caught up on you, both from the recent events and your already tiring day. your head slumped onto her shoulder as a yawn fell from your lips, to which billie smiled softly. 

“do you want to stay the night?” 

that was not something you’d ever expected billie to say, but you hummed softly against her shoulder. “if that’s okay, yeah.”

you could’ve sworn you heard a sigh of relief from billie, “of course it’s okay, please stay. i want you to stay.” 

and so you did. you stayed that night, wrapped up in billie’s arms. it was so new, but it felt so right. that night had been an irreversible shift in your relationship, for both obvious reasons and more hidden ones. you knew that the two of you would have to talk about some stuff in the morning, and you knew you’d have to set some more boundaries. but you also felt closer to her than you ever had, somehow. 

little did you know, that night was just as  meaningful for billie as it was for you. she had had a revelation, one that she would likely keep to herself for a while, although there was no doubt you would find out eventually. 

but there was no doubt that billie wanted you to stay, longer than she’d ever thought.

[alwaysthefool]

Opposite (x Zayne)

Warnings: face dysmorphia, envy, jealousy, insecurity

Tags: Angst (no comfort), f!reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader

Synopsis: You see Zayne with another girl, and let your insecurities get the better of you.

You thought it’d be a wonderful day. There was definitely something going on between the two of you, something unspoken, and on the last trip, Zayne kissed you. You two did not address it or follow through where you left off, but there were sparks and a certain tension, always on the brink of exploding into something more.

That day, you were going to ask him about it, but at the bakery where you’d usually find him on sunny afternoons having a snack, someone else was next to him. An intern, by the looks of it. The most beautiful girl you’d ever seen. Tall, perfect skin, large eyes, sweeter voice, prettier. Pretty and smart in ways you’d never be.

Prettier, smarter.

And he was smiling. Zayne, usually stoic, was laughing at a joke she’d made. Prettier, smarter, and funny. You never felt your heart beat faster, the lump in your throat growing, and you realised the only way out for you was literally, out of the bakery. You quietly went back, breathing slowly to control your emotions. Right, why would Zayne be with you? He had better options.

You almost laughed when you finally reached your apartment. Stupid, stupid girl. You cursed yourself internally. Before you could think about anything else, you heard your phone buzz. Looking at it, it was a text from Zayne. You stupidly saved his number with emojis on your phone.

‘Don’t forget your check-up appointment tomorrow.’

Of course, that’s all he was to you. A doctor. You replied to him with a thumbs-up emoji, immediately changing his contact name to Dr. Zayne, and removing your display picture. You felt awful, insignificant, ugly. You did not want to look in the mirror. You were embarrassed.

Why did he kiss you in the first place? Were you overthinking? Was that girl why he never brought up the time he kissed you?

You sighed, calming yourself down. This kind of pain wasn’t good for the heart. You changed into your pajamas, trying to distract yourself with a movie, some popcorn, and eventually, a drink. Then two. Then three. Then as many as it took to fall asleep.

You woke up groggy, irritated, and still remembering that girl’s face, that doctor you had a crush on, and the fact you’d see them in the hospital in a few hours. You took a shower, put on some makeup, removed the makeup considering you were just going to get a checkup, looked up if it’s acceptable to wear makeup to a hospital on the internet, and then settled with a lip tint and concealer.

Maybe you should’ve called Tara to come along with you for moral support, and you could go out for drinks later, but you decided against it considering Grayson and Yvonne would be there to cheer you up.

It hurt when you saw them at the hospital chatting with that intern. It was about Zayne, something related to a surgery going well. You bowed your head, praying they wouldn’t notice you, as you almost tip-toed to Zayne’s office.

“[Name]!” Yvonne called, waving. You took a deep breath and forced a smile back, approaching the three. Upon getting a closer look of the intern, you realised she had no blemishes, no scars, and her hands were perfectly manicured. She looked like one of those models that you convinced yourself had airbrushed editing on magazine pages. Guess people like that really did exist.

“Uh, something on my face?” She asked, and you realised you were staring.

You looked away, embarrassed. “Nothing, sorry.”

“This is Jo, Zayne’s new intern.” Grayson spoke, and you bit your lip as you nodded at her. “He usually doesn’t take any, but he selected her himself seeing how brilliant her research was.”

You just smiled and nodded, stupidly, to the point you were sure it was becoming weird.

“Uh, you’re here for the checkup, right? Let me take you to him.” She looked at her notepad, and gestured you to Zayne’s office. You didn’t wave a bye to your friends, just keeping your head down. Usually, you’d hop to Zayne’s room like it was your own, opening the door with a smile, but this time the door was opened for you, and you couldn’t meet his eyes.

It felt like the universe was mocking you, and this was something you’d have to bear.

“Dr. Zayne.” She was the one greeting him this time.

You walked over to Zayne, sitting on the examination chair next to him. You didn’t meet his eyes, fiddling with the metal surface of your chair instead. Zayne would’ve immediately noticed. Maybe he did.

“Jo, you can leave.”

You watched her confused expression from the corner of your eye, and then her perfect figure take a bow and leave.

“Eyes on me.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t raise your eyes to look at him, even though it was probably for the checkup. Zayne put two fingers under your chin, and forced you to look up, a small torch in his other hand.

“You’re mad at me.” He said, checking your eyes, his hand caressing your cheek. You didn’t respond, turning around as usual for his stethoscope to measure your heart rate. Zayne sighed, placing his stethoscope on your spine as you took a deep, shaky breath.

“Can you tell me what I did?” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on to his lap, breathing in your scent. You wanted to hold him back, nuzzle him, something, but the insecurity, a demon inside of you, wouldn’t let you.

“If you do this again, I’m switching doctors.” You pulled yourself away from him, irritated, standing up. Zayne also looked annoyed, and hurt. Were you the one being petty here? You didn’t think about it.

“Check-up’s done, I’m leaving.”

“It’s actually not.” Zayne spoke firmly, definitely annoyed. You sat back down next to him, looking at him with defiant eyes.

He looked down at his notepad. “Are you experiencing any odd symptoms?”

Heartbreak, jealousy, agonising mental pain. “No.”

“Have you been eating well?”

You frowned. You hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and you didn’t realise it until now, but you lied. “Yeah.”

“Then why did I hear your stomach growl?”

Your cheeks reddened. Zayne was a doctor after all, nothing got past him. He gave you a candy from his coat pocket. “Let’s get lunch after my shift is over.”

You quietly nibbled on the candy, handing the wrapper back to him, which made him smile. “My princess.”

“If I’m your princess, why did I see you at that bakery with some other girl yesterday?” You looked down, embarrassed now, realising you were mad over such a small thing.

Zayne held your face gently, making you look up at him. “That’s what this is about? Jo?”

You pulled away from him. “Not just her, but also, you kissed me, and never addressed it again. I feel like I’m a candy wrapper to you, someone to discard after use.”

“That’s-“ Zayne’s voice was hesitant. You didn’t meet his eyes and he didn’t make you. “I… I’m sorry, I was busy after that. I didn’t have the time to call you over, or-“

“But you had the time to go to a bakery with your intern?”

Zayne’s expression turned cross. You supposed he was done with you too. “She called me there, because she saw I was overworking myself. Am I not allowed that much?”

You bit your lip. Prettier, smarter, funny, and kinder. “I’m sorry.” You managed. That was all you had to say. You let your insecurities get the better of you, but… was that hard to understand for Zayne? Tears fell from your eyes but you didn’t feel like you were going to cry. “I, um… I should go.”

“No, please-“ Zayne tried, reaching his hand out for you but you stood up. You didn’t want to look at him, at anyone at the hospital. You did not want to go home, you did not want to be anywhere, you did not want to exist as a person in the universe. An insecure, ugly person, who hurt the people around them. It hurt like knives that started inside your heart and prodded their way outwards, hurting you most of all, it-

“I’ll take the day off.” You did not realise when Zayne reached next to you by the door, his large hand holding it close. “I’ll make time for you. Please, let me fix this.”

“It’s not your fault, Zayne.” You put your hand on the door handle, red eyes meeting his exasperated ones, as you spoke what needed to be said. “I just think we aren’t right for each other.”

You could see the emotion fall from his face, his hand leaving the door. You walked out, grateful that at least Yvonne and Grayson weren’t eavesdropping right outside this time. Jo wasn’t too far away, though, and she noticed your teary face. “Is everything okay?” She asked, concerned. That hurt worse than if she would’ve just ignored it, because this girl in front of you was blameless. You smiled at her, lying that it was just allergies, hoping she’d take good care of Zayne in your place.

—x—

Part 2 fixing things, anyone?

[mc-lukanette]

"I'm the least-witch witch ever," Marinette groaned, burying her head in her arms on the table. A book titled History of Witch Fashion, thick but shockingly lacking in substance, laid open in front of her, turned all the way to the last page.

She understood it to some degree. Witches of the past had little need to change the way they looked due to their circumstances, as they tended to live far out in the woods where no one would see them anyway. It was a "waste" to worry about updating their look, and wearing all black tended to make camouflaging spells go more smoothly if they needed to go anywhere potentially dangerous at night.

Even in the modern day, there remained reasons to stick to tradition, such as to ensure that people knew what they were. Anyone who looked like a "genuine witch" was someone people could trust for potions or spells once magic became more socially acceptable.

But Marinette's problem was simple: she hated it. She couldn't pull off the all black look and found the generic pointy witch hats to, quite bluntly, look like traffic cones that just came back from a funeral.

"I don't even have a black cat!" she cried out in distress.

"Mrrah?"

She pushed herself up, turning to the white short-haired cat sitting nearby. "It's not your fault, Clawton! You're perfect just the way you are!"

The cat puffed out its chest with pride, a tiny gentlecat without a tuxedo.

Marinette smiled, feeling a little cheered up by it, but faltered when she looked at the book again. Centuries of witch fashion laid before her, yet there were only tiny, insignificant changes made over time. Even seasonal changes recommended temperature-related spells to show off instead of dressing for the weather like a normal person.

"It's fine!" she told herself, hitting the table with both hands. A surge of magic caused the book to float upwards, and Marinette ordered it into the garbage, deciding, "I'll just... have to take the witch fashion world by storm, all by myself!"

Clawton let out a concerned mew, but didn't protest.

—————

Step one of Marinette's lack of a plan was finding inspiration, and there were few better ways of doing that than walking around the town and taking in the sights. Clawton walked next to her, tiny pawsteps sounding beside her own footsteps as she scribbled anything that gave even remotely "witch-y" vibes. It was like making a mood board.

Nothing solid was forming in her head thus far, but it was better than nothing. While it wasn't likely to happen, she did hope for that special spark, that magical thing that'd make her go—

"Mrreow!"

Marinette stopped, surprised to hear her cat speak up when it was usually so quiet in public. Looking down, she called out worriedly, "Clawton?"

It didn't even glance at her, taking off like a shot down the street. She gasped, shocked but reacting quickly enough to chase after it.

"Hey, come back! Where are you going?"

She only hoped that her mood as of late hadn't been affecting it. Cats were sensitive to magical and emotional fluctuations in witches, making them solid pets but ones that could also take on or share a witch's stress if they chose to.

If that did end up being the case, she probably owed it a few treats.

Clawton turned on a dime to dart around a corner, Marinette not far behind. She heard someone yelp and fall over just as she turned that same corner, though slightly clumsier than her cat had been.

Sitting on the ground was a teenage boy, probably around her age, though she focused on little else when she saw Clawton purring in his lap. Horrified, she hurried to the two, plucking her cat from him and settling it in her arms.

She rambled off, "I'm so sorry! It's not usually like that, but now it knocked you over and—did it rip your clothes?! I swear I'll sew them up—I'll make it better even, I—!"

"They didn't scratch me."

Marinette paused mid-sentence, somehow managing to hear his soft voice over her panicking, and blinked at him. Taking in what she had assumed were "cat scratches," she realized that they were actually purposeful rips in the clothes. Even the knees of his pants had similar ones when she actually looked, and they more obviously weren't caused by a cat.

As the boy stood back up, entirely calm despite what had happened, Clawton hopped down from her arms to do figure eights around his legs. Marinette was still busy taking in his fashion, eyes scanning him up and down to fully capture it.

His pants and shoes were notably black, but not too much even with his black hair. He kept it interesting with the white and shades of blue he wore on his upper body, in addition to the blue highlights in his hair that were either natural or dyed. The rips she'd mistaken for cat scratches did still give off the same energy in a way, and if they were in another place, then maybe—

Marinette's eyes widened. Without another thought, she stepped forward, taking the boy's hands and clasping them together in her own. Looking him right in the eyes, she asked spontaneously, "Will you be my muse?!"

He blinked.

—————

The embarrassment took a few seconds to strike, after which came a slew of apologies and a promise to make up for the onslaught from both her and her cat. He insisted it was fine, but she insisted right back.

They eventually ended up sitting on a bench together at a public flower garden, complete with iced tea that Marinette had bought for them. Apparently, the boy often went there himself for his own inspiration - just as a musician rather than a fashion designer - so he smelled strongly of flowers that her cat adored, which explained why it had jumped him.

While Clawton rolled around and stretched amongst some thyme, the boy took a sip of his iced tea and wondered aloud, "So, changing witch fashion all on your own, huh?"

She whined, wishing she could hide behind her own cup. "I know. It sounds insane."

"No, I like the sound of that." He turned to her with a gentle smile. "I'm Luka, by the way."

She shot him a skeptical look. "Marinette. Are we exchanging names because you want a restraining order?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're fine. Honestly, I want to help you if I can."

"Really?" She paused. "Clawton didn't hit your head, did he? I know I said when we were getting drinks that you'd get benefits if this took off, but..."

He leaned back against the bench and swung an arm over the top of it, shrugging with the arm holding his cup. "I think if anyone can do it, it's you. You have incredible energy, Marinette." He grinned. "Enough to ask a stranger to be your muse."

He somehow felt positive enough about the experience to joke about it. Marinette knew then that either she had overreacted, she had struck diamond in finding this boy, or both. Either way, giving him up would be the most foolish thing she could do.

It helped that he, now that she was truly looking at him and not just his clothes, was exactly her type. He dressed in a style that was clearly his own and carried himself as such, confident and comfortable in the clothes he wore without coming off arrogant. Better yet was that he still had cat fur on his pants from when Clawton had rubbed itself on him, yet he seemed totally unbothered.

Gods and goddesses above, he was perfect.

Of course, if he was going to be her muse for such an important task, then it would have to be strictly professional, so she tried not to think about it too hard. She'd been told before that she could be a bit much, so she would have to be all business about this.

"Can I add a condition?" Luka asked suddenly.

"Huh? Yeah—er, yes." She tried to say it formally, straightening her back in perfect posture even if the colorful cup of iced tea kind of ruined it. "What is it?"

The corner of his lips twitched into a brief smirk at the action, but he carried on, "Can you be my muse too?"

"Ah?" Her shoulders slumped, already ruining the poise she'd been trying to maintain. "Me? You mean Clawton?"

"You," he insisted. "I like your cat too, but I think you're interesting, Marinette. If we're going to get to know each other, shouldn't we do it the best way creative people like us do?"

The logic was hard to argue with, especially with the slew of emotions he'd just caused her: bafflement that he'd want her of all people as a muse, shyness at the look he'd given her when he'd said it, and all of that preceding sheer joy.

"S-so you'll really do it then?" she realized, bouncing up out of her seat and facing him. "You'll be my muse?!"

He nodded, reaching a hand up to her for a handshake. "We've got a deal."

"Yes! I could just kiss you!" she blurted out. A second later, she caught herself and quickly corrected, "Ah, not really—not now—unless you—ah, thanks!"

She put her own hand out to complete the handshake, the two positively beaming, and thus began the relationship between the two teenage business partners that just happened to be each other's muse.

[iheartsteve0704]

Agathario Imagine Me & You AU

(Where it’s not just the movie verbatim)

Agatha is a single mom and she has been for 6 years now

There’s no baby daddy (thank god) because she adopted Nicky all on her own and there has never been someone else in the picture

But 3 years ago she met this guy, Ralph, at work and he has to be one of the only men she’s dated that isn’t a shit head

Agatha is bi but has a favoring for women so she surprised herself when she accepted Ralph’s proposal on a windy afternoon in New York City right by the water

She thinks she accepted it because she wasn’t getting any younger and no other prospects were in her sights but also Ralph was a decent, good man which is rare. Especially in Manhattan.

He had a great job, he was kind, he wasn’t a Republican, and he was the type of guy who would never cheat on her.

Agatha didn’t want to call it settling but she could do a lot worse

In terms of Nicky, in the 3 years she’s dated Ralph, her little boy hasn’t fully warmed up to the guy. It’s not a bad concerning thing, if it were Agatha would’ve called it off asap

Sometimes Ralph will try to play with Nicky and the boy allows it but his mom can tell he’s hesitant or letting the guy be around him out of pity. She doesn’t think much of it though because Nicky is like that in general, he’s a tough cookie to crack (just like his mom)

So Agatha and Ralph make preparations for their wedding over the course of serval months and it’s a shitstorm with work, taking care of Nicky, and having some resemblance of a social life

When it comes time to try on dresses, Agatha realizes her circle is pretty small. She cut ties with her mom a long time ago (big homophobe! And just terrible risk overall!) but she did still have her two lifelong best friends: Alice and Jen, both her MOHs. The two women happily took the day off of work to come along and help their best friend find a dress and she also decides to bring Nicky too

They had 3 dress shops to check out (one being Agatha’s dream shop, Klienfield)

Agatha and Nicky are the first to show up to the first shop of the day, which is a small business Jen suggested (something about how she walks past it on her way home everyday and it looked promising)

And it was for sure small, the place wasn’t grand like the other stores Agatha has seen pictures of online but the dresses inside were absolutely stunning and Agatha was enamored by each and every one of them

She was busy admiring the dresses when she notices that Nicky had disappeared, she starts to panic until she hears his small sweet voice rapidly and excitedly asking questions from a little bit farther into the room

She walks into the back where she find Nicky (practically jumping up in down in curiosity) watching over a woman hand sewing what looked like 300 small pearl beads on to a lace vial

Agatha watches them for a second longer, how the woman’s voice was so sweet and patient with her son. It was also odd because her son and this woman had the same colored hair so they almost looked related. And then she clears her throat and the two finally two around the resemblance is almost startling but so is how fucking stunning this woman is

Agatha’s breath hitches and she forgets how to speak when the woman turns around. Shes at least ten years younger than herself and has sharp features and these big beautiful brown eyes. She had to be the most stunningly beautiful woman Agatha has ever seen in her life

The younger woman is observant and clocks Agatha’s reaction so she slap on a cocky smirk and gets up from her chair where she offers her hand and introduces herself as Rio Vidal, the shop owner who hand crafts each of the wedding dresses

Rio asks about her fiance and assumes it’s a woman and when Agatha says it’s a man, rio’s face falls and for some reason Agatha decides to awkwardly and loudly reveal she’s actually bisexual (which earns her a laugh)

From the shock of her beauty to the shock of the woman’s incredible talent, Agatha is acting like a complete fool but is saved by the literal bell of the front door opening and Alice and Jen arriving

What Agatha failed to know about dress fittings, and to realize before gaining the knowledge that the shop owner was this beautiful and attractive young woman, is that an attendant comes into the dressing room with you to help so they pretty much see you naked and then after their hands are all over the place on your body pinning things in place and seeing what needs to be fixed

But Agatha also tried to remind herself that while Rio was captivating, she was also a professional and this was her business so Agatha tried her best to be professional too (she failed when Rio’s knuckles grazed up her bare back when she zipped up her dress)

Agatha tries on 5 dresses and falls in love with one dress instantly (and tries not to let a blush creep onto her cheeks and down her neck when Rio gives her an earth shattering compliment and her brown eyes rake over her body slowly)

And during the entire dress fitting, Agatha couldn’t help but notice her young son talking off Rio’s ear and practically being glued to the woman’s side. It even got to the point where Nicky ended up holding onto Rio’s tub of dress pins while the woman pinned the dress into place

It hit time to head to the next dress shop and Agatha tried not to reel when Rio professional hand shake goodbye as she left (Nicky did give Rio a giant hug and Agatha did melt at the sight of that)

In the taxi on the way to the next shop, Alice and Jenn strike up conversation about how hot Rio was and it makes Agatha’s blood literally boil but then it hits her… why does it matter to her? She’s getting married! To a man! She’s still bi but still she was getting married and this conversation didn’t matter to her. It didn’t matter how good Rio looked in her loose jeans and open button down top because Agatha was getting married in 5 months

The rest of the day Agatha is lost in her mind (lost in Rio) and that follows her all the way home when she’s sitting at the dinner table with Ralph and Nicky. She’s staring into space as Ralph tries to talk to Nicky who either ignores the man or gives him short, vague answers

Later that night, she’s alone and sitting up in bed cyber stalking Rio’s shop Instagram page and finds the younger woman’s personal account. Ralph steps into the room, startling her when asks her if she’s fine because she’s been acting weird all day and that causes Agatha to accidentally double tap on a photo Rio posted 5 years ago. Then she learns she can’t undo it and Agatha gets defensive and snaps at him.

Ralph sleeps on the couch that night, he offers to give her space, and Agatha feels bad until her phone buzzes and it’s a notification that Rio has followed her on Instagram and sent her a message. That night, agatha can’t go to sleep because she’s dying of embarrassment and excitement

The very next day Agatha finds herself showing up to the dress shop alone and tells Rio that she’ll take the dress

Rio teases her about the Instagram like and then forces a pout when she says Agatha didn’t follow her back, Agatha melts at the sight and pulls out her phone so fast

Rio asks about the other stores they visited and Agatha accidentally lets the words “there’s no one like you” slip from her mouth and tries to recover by adding “I mean no one makes dresses as beautiful as you. Yours! Your dresses, I mean”. A cocky smile is infuriating but Agatha can’t help but be pulled to her

Agatha finds herself lingering in the shop much longer than needed and Rio lets her, chatting her up and asking her about Nicky (which makes Agatha’s heart thud inside her chest) and they’re flirting most definitely but neither them can stop

But the shop bell rings and a pretty red headed woman struts in with a brown paper bag filled with food and drops it on the counter, not even blinking an eye at Agatha, and kissing Rio on her cheek. Agatha looks away quickly, spills out some pathetic quick goodbye and leaves before Rio could say anything else

Its three weeks later when Agatha is fuming at Ralph because they had court-side tickets to the Liberty game (thanks to his job) but he forgot he has to go to a dinner with his boss (another woman btw)

They’re fighting (as in Agatha is yelling at Ralph) when the phone rings and Ralph picks up. “It’s Rio? From Vidal Dresses?” he says and Agatha tries to grab for the phone but Ralph continues to speak. He’s humming in agreement until his eyes light up. He asks Rio if she’s busy tonight and then somehow that ends up with Rio and Agatha going to the Liberty game together

They meet up outside Barclays center by the VIP entrance and Rio both cool and adorable wearing her baggy jeans, a loose shirt with the sleeves rolled up and her liberty hat on and all go a sudden Agatha feels silly for the tight blue dress she didn’t bother changing out of from work and even voices that. That silliness melts away though when Rio’s eyes give her a once over and her brown eyes go wide when she realizes she’s been caught.

Keeping Agatha’s slight discomfort in her mind, when they are seated before the game to starts, Rio gets up to go to the “bathroom” and comes back with a matching hat similar to her own and an oversized jersey. Agatha slips on the jersey and Rio sounds breathless when she says how cute she looks. Agatha blushes and thanks her with a hand on her arm and is so busy putting it fixing the hat onto her head that she misses the longing look Rio gives her

It’s not as tense or awkward as they’d both it would be considering they both love basketball and love the liberty. They’re both passionate, yelling, waving around their white towels, and standing up from their seats to yell at the refs

Rio even challenges Agatha to chug her beer and as a prize she’ll buy another on her. Agatha initially declines with a nervous laugh but when Rio makes a teasing joke about not being a chicken, Agatha’s eyes light up. Making a show of tilting her head back and wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. Rio has to school her reaction and how turned on it made her feel

During the start of the third quarter, they call a timeout and they start up the kiss cam. Rio and Agatha are shoulder to shoulder, laughing up at the screen at the shocked couples until it pans on them. Both their mouths fall open and it’s Rio who shakes her head, plastering on her signature cocky smile and wagging her finger no.

The camera moves to 2 more couples before going back to them and the crowd erupts in a chant. The two women look at each other and for a minute Agatha thinks Rio will kiss her on the mouth right the and there and Agatha finds she really wants her to. The younger woman does close in but a wave of disappointment hits Agatha when soft lips meet her temple instead

The crowd boos and the announcer starts up another kiss chant. The women look at each other again and it’s Agatha makes the rash decision and leans in, connecting their lips. It’s supposed to be quick but when Rio melts into it, Agatha puts her hands on soft cheeks and deepens the kiss. They pull apart after a while and even though everyone is staring and the arena is roaring just for them. Nothing mattered because it felt like they were the only two people in the word right then

After the game, Rio walks Agatha home and they stand in front of the luxury apartment building awkwardly, the air filled with tension. Rio nods her head and starts to turn around to leave when Agatha pulls at her arm and their bodies collide. They are pretty much sharing the same air, only inches a part when Agatha decides to do something stupid and ask about the red head from the shop.

Rio tells her it was a one night stand who can’t understand the words not interested (and that should set alarms in Agatha’s head. That Rio isn’t looking for serious because she’s young and that should turn Agatha away but it’s doesn’t) and then Rio asks if she’s jealous. Agatha says no.

A moment passes and the Rio looks down at Agatha’s lips for a long moment before connecting with blue eyes and saying “well I’m jealous” running her thumb over Agatha’s lower lip, caressing her cheek gently before turning and walking away and never turning back around because god she’d run away with this woman if she asked her

They don’t see each other again and maybe it’s a good thing because Agatha could just write it off as a one time blip that will never happen again but Agatha does keep seeing Rio everywhere. She sees her being featured in bridal magazines looking absolutely sexy and adorable, posting in Instagram with mystery women Agatha doesn’t know, and sometimes Agatha sees dark hair out in the wild and a pang of disappointment fills her body when it turns out to be someone else. Agatha always brushes off these instances as nothing but she knows deep down it’s something

And she can’t silence the nagging in the back of her mind when one night Alice and Jen are over for a wine night and the two single openly lesbian women pull up their hinge accounts and they all cuddle up on the couch and filter through the different women and Jen lands on Rio. Agatha wordlessly grabs the phone and starts looking through her profile and the pictures that weren’t found on her Instagram and made Agatha’s heart squeeze.

Then jealously overtook her, knowing that other women were looking at her profile. Other women were messaging her, flirting, asking her out, spending no time with her, taking her back to their place to- no! Agatha shoves the phone back into Jen’s hands and downs her wine in one gulp

Jen jokes about wanting to send Rio a like and that was Agatha’s last straw, who pours herself another glass and downs it again

She tries to forget Rio after that but when she closes her eyes at night, all she can see is that signature smirk and those big brown eyes

On the day of her wedding she almost slips her coffee all over her white satin robe when Rio walks into the bridal suite in a black floral mini dress and her bridal dress bagged and draped off her arm

Agatha had forgotten that that a part of Rio’s business is that she hand delivers the dress on the day and stays around until after the ceremony to make sure the dress is good for the whole celebration. The fact that those big brown eyes are going to be watching her all day, walk down the aisle, marry this man, made Agatha want to throw up

Rio greets her with a kiss on her cheek (which shouldn’t be weird it’s a normal greeting) but Agatha can’t help the blush that paints over her face

Agatha can’t focus on anything else but Rio’s presence in the room. Rio playing with Nicky, her cousins fawning over the younger woman, both Jen and Alice trying to endlessly flirt with her which makes the bride to be harshly bite down on her bottom lip and make it literally bleed

When he hair and makeup are down, her and Rio go to a secluded space to get her dress on and Agatha is literally shaking in anticipation

It’s quiet and the tension is killing both of them so Agatha stupidly brings up if Rio has had anymore one night stands or seen that red head again. Rio is dead serious when she tells her no, that she recently discovered she’s looking for more. That she’s looking to settle down. She jokes that it’s because of her business, that it’s influencing her and while that could be true they both know the real reasoning

Rio’s gently takes Agatha’s soft long hair and brings it over her shoulder, her knuckles grazing her skin which makes Agatha shiver. Agatha watches eyes take over her curves and their eyes meet in the mirror and their breathing both labored

A knock on the door startles them both and it’s Ralph, with his hand covered over his eyes but declares he doesn’t believe in that tradition and takes in his wife to be. He sweeps her into a kiss and when Agatha looks over his shoulder, Rio is long gone

She doesn’t see Rio again until she’s being walking down the aisle and catches Rio standing by the exit, an unreadable expression on her face, before she turns and leaves

Agatha convinces herself she can do this, that Rio was no one to her, that her feelings mean nothing and Ralph is right here ready to marry her but then she finds herself speaking up when the priest asks if anyone objects. All she says is sorry to Ralph (who looks at her in understanding) before running out of the church (Alice and Jen high five, smiling from ear to ear because maybe they knew something was going on all along and maybe tried to make Agatha jealous all day)

Rio is back in her shop, luckily no brides to be coming are scheduled to come in today, so keeps the shop sign on closed and she sits in the back, letting herself cry.

She doesn’t even know why she’s this emotional. She doesn’t even know this woman for real but there’s something so clearly there and that fact that she can’t even explore it, explore her, is killing Rio inside because she can just feel that whatever they could’ve had would’ve been once in a life time, magical.

Rio has always thought the term soulmate was idiotic and made up but when she met Agatha, all she wanted to do was please her. To make her smile. To be around her. She feels tethered to someone who just got married to a man and she was spiraling.

The bell of her store dings and through tears she yells that the shop is closed only to look up in see Agatha, hair matted from running, still in her wedding dress and clearly out of breath

Agatha doesn’t need to say anything, they both understand what’s happened. Rio gets up and runs towards her and Agatha meets her halfway. They kiss, melting into each others embrace, knowing this is the start of something incredible and forever

Two years later they are getting married at city hall with Jen and Alice as witnesses and MOHs again and Nicky as Rio’s best man. Agatha wears a chic white satin dress with a matching white neck scarf that Rio spent over a 1000 hours crafting especially for her wife to be and Nicky is wearing a matching suit as Rio (that she also made) and it’s the sweetest thing Agatha has ever seen, she loves how much her little boy adores Rio as much as she does. The wedding photo they blow up in their shared apartment is them on the steps of city hall. Both women lifting up Nicky into the air who holds up both of their bouquets in joy above them as the two women kiss

[littlerosetrove]

I made a post talking about this exact thing.

Tommy has been the only LI with real potential to be something good and lasting for Buck. Tommy is a first responder like Buck, so not only do they get each other on that fundamental level, but logistically for the writers it makes it far easier to incorporate Tommy into stories. Tommy already had a connection to the 118, Bucks life and family. Hell, for the first time we had Bobby outright approve of Tommy to Buck, saying he's good people. And hello? Tommy and Eddie are friends (though who knows how that will be handled now).

What I don't get is why go to all this trouble, bringing back and working on integrating Tommy, specifically, into Bucks life like they've never done with previous partners, if only to toss it aside out of the blue, and done for a poor reason?

Not every audience member is going to read interviews (ie do homework) to try and figure out what the hell is going on in the show. In the show we got an abrupt ending to a relationship that STILL gave signs that there is an open door. An open door for Tommy to possibly come back. Meaning, Tommy was scared and ran, but Buck could actually fight for this relationship and say no, he absolutely wants a lasting future with Tommy.

But the interviews, the homework, is showing us "nope, this is the end, and Buck just might sleep around now. stay tuned to find out!"

To add onto this and bring Eddie into the mix, well - Eddie has stated in canon that he's straight. I may be a multi-shipper, but I gotta say this gives veeery little hope of Buddie ever becoming canon. And you know what? Considering how Buck and Tommy were just handled/treated, I can't say I have much faith in how even a potential Buddie thing would even be handled.

While yes, we need to wait and see how things play out, but at the moment? What I'm seeing is one of Buck's greatest potential for a lasting and good relationship has been tossed aside, and... what? He's just going to go on dating someone new? Probably a whole new character we've never met, and we're supposed to care about this person when we've seen this exact movie multiple times now, in 8 seasons, and we're supposed to care and feel invested?

Like I'm really not trying to be a big downer, but gd these writers are giving me very little confidence in them. The just burned us badly, and again, it's season 8 and they still can't manage for whatever reason to allow Buck to finally settle down with someone, something he's wanted for 8 seasons, and just be happy. I just want Buck to be happy and settled, but right now these writers are refusing to let him, and that does confuse me and piss me off.

Tommy is seemingly gone for good, Eddie does not look likely to be a possible romantic partner for Buck, so. Why should I care about any future LI for Buck? Again, yes I want Buck to be happy, but holy shit.

i think my overall feeling after this episode was that i genuinely can’t care about any relationship buck gets into after this. like seriously, what is the point? this hamster wheel they said they were getting him off is still spinning and he’s not leaving it, he’s never gonna have any real relationships if they keep repeating the cycle of him finding someone, there being an issue and the relationship ending.

like. do i care about buck and his character development? obviously. but any girlfriend or boyfriend or love interest he gets, i’m not gonna even think about caring or getting invested. because seriously, what is the point. they had something amazing in tommy and it could have lead to some great storylines for buck and tommy and even the overall show, but it’ll never come to fruition now. because buck is apparently ‘still figuring himself out’ but he can date men as well as women. will that ever lead to a long lasting relationship? it’s doubtful. at least that’s what it seems like the writers want.

and don’t even getting me started on eddie.

[joyfulcowboycandy]

My muse

Malleus Draconia x Reader

❥ one shot

Content warning: ...it's fluffy. Maybe that there are no established relationships? Oh, Y/n has social anxiety here and is an artist. Y/n takes yuu's place and no grim! :( he was turned into cat stew

Note: This is 4.1k words. Brace yourself ......Gosh I love Malleus, I have so many ideas for him........ I love good girl x bad boy typa dynamics I'm sooo not used to posting my ideas it's nervewrecking to share something so personal to me. I'm glad people seem to like them still!

fem reader

The sprawling stone arches of Night Raven College towered overhead as Y/n looked around, her heart a chaotic blend of excitement and unease. She was surrounded by bustling students, each one glancing her way with varying degrees of curiosity and indifference, but all carrying an air of mystique and confidence. She swallowed, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she tried to keep herself from looking too out of place, which was easier said than done. She felt like a fish out of water—a lost, magicless girl in a sea of powerful beings, standing out not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice.

The courtyard buzzed with conversation, but every once in a while, a murmur seemed directed her way, and she could catch bits and pieces of whispered phrases.

“Is she the magicless one?”

“She doesn’t look like she belongs here…”

“Oh, she looks nervous.”

Her cheeks warmed at the attention, and she felt an urge to shrink into herself, maybe find a corner where she could hide until everything settled down. But she took a steadying breath instead. She had to be brave—she’d promised herself that she’d make this strange place work, somehow. After all, this was a second chance, an escape from a life she’d rather leave behind. If she was going to find herself anywhere, it might as well be here, in this strange, enchanted school. Even if it meant being the “magicless” one.

Lost in thought, Y/n barely noticed the approaching figures until one leaned in close, a familiar pair of mismatched eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Hey, little guppy,” Floyd drawled, his grin wide and sharp. He poked her lightly, his finger pressing right into her shoulder, making her stumble back a step in surprise. “Aren’t you jumpy? You look like you’re about to pass out!”

She let out a shaky laugh, cheeks flushed. “N-No, I’m fine! Just… adjusting.”

“Awww, look at that.” Jade, Floyd’s twin, sidled up on her other side, his voice smooth but carrying that same teasing edge. “It’s always refreshing to have someone with such… natural reactions. Isn’t that right, Floyd?”

Floyd snickered, leaning closer until she had to tilt her head up just to look at him. “It’s hilarious,” he said, his grin widening as he seemed to take in every flustered detail of her expression. “What, did no one ever tease you back home?”

Y/n’s gaze darted down, a nervous laugh slipping out. “W-Well, no… not really,” she admitted softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Well, that’s a pity.” Jade’s eyes glimmered with intrigue. “We’ll just have to make up for all that lost time.”

They laughed, and though she couldn’t help the heat spreading across her cheeks, she managed to laugh along, even if a little nervously.

As the twins wandered off, leaving her to catch her breath, she exhaled, trying to release the nervous energy buzzing through her. She caught herself fidgeting again, trying to brush off the lingering embarrassment. Her shyness had always been a part of her, something she hadn’t been able to shake, even here. It was hard enough to make friends back home; she could only imagine how much harder it would be in a school full of people who seemed so confident, so... powerful.

But beneath her anxious thoughts, there was something else—an excitement, faint but real. A tiny spark of curiosity to explore, to learn everything she could about this world and the people in it. Here, she was no longer tied to the past, to the hurt and broken pieces she’d left behind. Here, she could be whoever she wanted. She could start again.

Even if it took her a thousand blushes, a hundred nervous laughs, and countless teasing encounters.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Living at Night Raven College and dealing with anxiety was difficult on its own. Y/N was the only female in the entire school, a fact known to everyone. Although the boys were decent enough not to be creepy or weird, they often teased her. She was always falling asleep in class or arriving late, which frequently earned her lectures from the teachers. This made her an easy target for teasing, though the boys never meant any harm (she hoped). She just wanted to stay on their good side. She wasn’t able to make any actual friends; her social anxiety always got in the way, and while she wasn't exactly avoided, she didn’t have anyone to confide in or talk to. She never blamed the boys, understanding that her anxiety made social interactions challenging.

Art was her only way to express herself, a cherished hobby since childhood. When she drew, she didn't need to worry about stumbling over her words or fiddling with her shirt to distract from her racing heart. It was also the only thing she had from her life back on Earth. She arrived in Twisted Wonderland with nothing but her own body and knowledge—not even the clothes on her were from home. She felt completely empty, making her art even more comforting.

Unfortunately, her inspiration always struck at night. She never understood why, but she did her best work during those hours. This habit interfered with her schoolwork and potential friendships, contributing to her clumsiness and constant drowsiness in class. She didn’t get enough sleep, being too busy illustrating the random things that caught her eye around the empty campus or the garden outside the Ramshackle dorm.

One night, she was by the old fountain, peering into the dirty water and watching her squirming reflection. The garden was beautiful, with slightly overgrown grass and numerous bushes and flowers she loved to draw. It was also peaceful, offering a gorgeous view of the moon high in the dark sky. Twisted Wonderland wasn’t much different from Earth, aside from the glaring difference of magic and slightly outdated technology. She was happy they at least had art supplies and canvases, which she was allowed to borrow. No one else seemed interested in drawing, so the supplies had been rotting in the storage room. When she asked to use them, Crowley was overjoyed that someone would finally make use of them.

Sitting in peace, enjoying the silence and the slight rustle of leaves, she sketched an owl glaring down at her from a tree a few feet away. She stayed silent, limiting her movements to avoid scaring it.

However, the sound of approaching footsteps startled the owl, causing it to fly away. Y/N gasped in disappointment, standing up from her seat as she watched the owl disappear into the little forest. It was then she noticed the presence that had joined her in the quiet garden. Tightening her grip on her pen and notebook, she reluctantly turned to face the intruder, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing Malleus Draconia.

Malleus stood silently, his eyes analyzing her with intrigue. Despite his fearsome reputation and the rumors that surrounded him, Y/N felt something akin to adoration. Under the moonlight, his horns, long hair, and calm, calculating eyes made him appear otherworldly. An urge to draw him struck her.

Without thinking, she blurted out, “Can I draw you?”

Malleus’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, a subtle reaction that she noticed. The corners of his lips curled into an amused smile, and he tilted his head slightly. The sight made Y/N's heart leap in her chest. She realized how strange her request was, especially as the first thing she had ever said to him. She felt embarrassed and stupid for being so weird, but she couldn’t deny how striking he looked under the moonlight. If he agreed to her request, she would be overjoyed.

Malleus studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Very well,” he finally said, his voice smooth and resonant. “You may draw me.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up with joy. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, her shyness momentarily forgotten in her excitement. She quickly found a comfortable spot to sit and began sketching, her eyes darting between Malleus and her sketchbook.

As she worked, Malleus watched her with a curious glint in his eyes. “Why do you wish to draw me?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N paused, considering her words carefully. “Umm… you looked really pretty under the moonlight,” she said softly, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve never seen horns like yours before, or eyes such a vibrant neon green. They’re really pretty.”

Malleus’s smile widened slightly, an almost imperceptible shift. “Is that so?” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone. “You find my appearance... pretty?”

Y/N nodded, her focus returning to her sketch. “Yes! I do,” she admitted.

They continued in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft rustle of leaves and the scratch of her pencil on paper. Y/N’s initial nerves faded as she immersed herself in her art. When she finished, she held up the sketch for Malleus to see.

Malleus studied the drawing, his expression unreadable. “You have captured more than just my appearance,” he said quietly. “How curious.”

Y/N smiled shyly. “I’m happy you think so.”

Malleus continued to observe the sketch, his expression contemplative. “Do you come here every night?” he asked, his gaze shifting from the drawing to her eyes.

Y/N nodded, her previous excitement fading into shyness now that the high from drawing had worn off. “I do,” she replied softly. “I get inspiration here, and it’s comforting.” She fidgeted with the corner of her sketchbook, her voice growing quieter. “I like drawing here at night.”

Malleus tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “You prefer solitude?”

“Sometimes…” she admitted, her eyes dropping to the ground. “It’s peaceful. And… I guess it’s easier than trying to talk to people. Drawing doesn’t judge me or expect me to say the right things.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m not very good at that.”

Malleus studied her for a moment, the moonlight casting a soft glow over his features. “I see. You find solace in your art,” he said, more as a statement than a question.

Y/N nodded again, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yes. I-It’s the one thing I can always count on.”

A thoughtful silence settled between them. Malleus seemed to understand her in a way she hadn’t expected. Despite his imposing presence and the intimidating rumors that surrounded him, she felt a surprising sense of ease in his company.

“You may continue to draw here,” Malleus said finally, his tone gentle yet authoritative. “And should you desire company, you have but to call for me.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words. “Thank you!”

As Malleus began to walk away, Y/N's curiosity got the better of her. "Wait," she called out, making him pause and turn back to face her. "Um- can I ask you something?"

He regarded her with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement still in his eyes. "You may."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N asked, "Are you really a prince? And a dragon!?"

Malleus nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yes, I am. Prince of the Briar Valley and a descendant of the dragon fae."

Her eyes widened in amazement. "That’s so cool! Everyone always says you're super strong, but we're not in the same year, so I’ve never seen it myself. Can you… show me?"

Malleus considered her request for a moment, then extended his hand. A green, magical aura surrounded him, and suddenly, ethereal, dragon-like wings appeared on his back, glowing in the moonlight. He didn't transform fully but gave her a glimpse of his power and heritage.

Y/N gasped in awe, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Wow," she breathed. "That’s amazing! You’re so cool."

Malleus retracted his wings, the aura fading as he resumed his usual form. "I am pleased that you think so," he said, his tone carrying a hint of pride.

Her mind still reeling from what she had witnessed, Y/N asked, "Can I draw you again another time? I mean, like this?"

He seemed to ponder her request, his gaze thoughtful. "Very well," he said finally. "You may. It is an honor to be your muse," he said, a teasing smile finding its way to his lips. "Perhaps we shall meet again tomorrow night?"

Y/N’s felt her face flush at his words. “M-my muse? And, yes! Okay!”

With a final, lingering glance, Malleus turned and disappeared into the early morning mist, and she returned to her dorm, with only a few hours left till school would start.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Since their initial meeting, Y/N’s encounters with Malleus grew in frequency, with each night solidifying their connection. Malleus had essentially become her muse, and she would show up with her art supplies, sketching and drawing him in numerous ways. He indulged her artistic passion, finding himself curious about her life while also sharing his own interests, particularly his fascination with gargoyles. She soon learned that his interest was so profound that he had created his own club dedicated to studying them, a fact she found incredibly cool.

Malleus, in turn, was intrigued by Y/N’s attraction to the very qualities that others found intimidating or unapproachable about him. Her genuine curiosity and admiration for aspects of his personality that were often deemed dark or formidable caught him off guard. He began to test her, asking questions designed to make her uncomfortable or to challenge her perception of him. Yet, to his surprise, she never faltered. Her view of him remained unchanged, always seeing the good in him.

It was a quality Malleus found both unusual and deeply attractive, especially in a place like Night Raven College, where cynicism and mistrust were more common than kindness and acceptance.

It seemed like just any other night when they met up in the overgrown garden, surrounded by flowers, bushes, overgrown grass, and the occasional firefly or grasshopper that graced them with its presence. Y/N, with her sketchbook in hand, was prepared to capture Malleus’s likeness once again. 

However, her curiosity had gotten the better of her tonight. She had grown so used to his company that she had momentarily forgotten his title as a literal prince.

Her eyes kept darting to his horns, the dark, curved structures that were as much a part of him as his regal demeanor. She couldn’t hold in her adoration any longer. Gathering her courage, she finally blurted out, “Malleus, can I… can I touch your horns?”

The words tumbled out before she could stop herself, and she instantly regretted it. Her face flushed, and she began stammering nervously, waving her hands in a frantic attempt to apologize. “I’m sorry! That was so rude of me. I shouldn’t have—”

Malleus, watching her with his characteristic calm, marveled at her audacity. It was rare a person who would even dare ask him such a thing, and yet here she was, this small, magicless human, filled with curiosity and adoration, doing just that.

He found her ignorance and boldness endearing. With a soft chuckle, he said, “It’s quite alright. You may.”

She stared at him in shock for a moment before he bent down on one knee and lowered his head slightly, giving her better access to his horns. Her hands trembled as she raised them, hesitating briefly before she gently touched one of his horns. It was smooth and cool to the touch, and she couldn’t help but let her fingers wander, tracing the intricate curves and shapes.

As she ran her fingers along his horns, her hands gradually moved into his hair, entangling in the soft, well-kept strands. This was clearly not what they had agreed upon, but she couldn’t help herself. His hair was unexpectedly soft and comforting, and she found herself running her fingers through it, almost forgetting where she was.

Malleus, to her immense surprise, allowed her this intimacy. He typically disliked when people were too casual with him, but with her, it felt different. Her touch was gentle and filled with genuine curiosity, and it felt surprisingly nice.

When she finally pulled her hands away, her face was a deep shade of red. “I’m so sorry, Malleus. I didn’t mean to…”

He leaned closer to her, his eyes glinting with amusement. “May I touch your hair, in return?”

She froze in surprise, not expecting his request. Before she could respond, he reached out and ruffled her hair gently, a slight mockery of her earlier actions. The touch was surprisingly tender, and it made her heart skip a beat.

“You have lovely hair,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

She blinked up at him, still flustered but now smiling shyly. “Oh…. thank you…,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Malleus straightened up, his eyes still fixed on her. “You continue to surprise me, Y/N.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Is that a good thing?”

“Very much so,” he replied with a small smile.

“Um, I made a new drawing of you, but… I forgot to bring it with me.” Y/N’s voice trembled, her heart thumping with anxiety. “Can I… bring it to your dorm tomorrow? I want you to have it…”

It was a big step—after all, she and Malleus had only ever met in the garden at night. By day, they moved in different circles, and he was two grades above her, making their lives all the more separate. Their nighttime meetings had always been their own little world, a space where she’d sketch him and he’d indulge her, sharing stories of Briar Valley or answering her curious questions. But the idea of entering his territory, his life outside their usual routine, felt nerve-wracking.

She braced herself, half-expecting him to refuse. Their friendship, if she could even call it that, had never been formally established. He was her quiet, mysterious muse, and she was the strange, sleepy artist who drew him in shadows and starlight. Despite herself, though, she hoped he didn’t see her as just a source of amusement. She cherished their time together, and the thought of being nothing more than a curiosity to him made her stomach twist.

Malleus, however, seemed blissfully unaware of her concerns. He regarded her with his usual calm, interpreting her nervousness as another shy moment—something she was known for, after all.

“Very well, then. Seek me out after your classes in Diasomnia,” he agreed with a nod.

Y/N’s face lit up, her relief breaking into a bright smile as she nodded eagerly. “Okay! I will.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

That night, after they parted ways, she returned to her dorm, her mind buzzing with thoughts of him. She often wondered how he managed to look so well-rested while she dragged herself through the day half-awake. Somehow, despite their nightly rendezvous, he attended all his classes, excelling in every subject. It was something she’d definitely ask about later, though for now, her focus was on perfecting the drawing she wanted to give him.

The next day, her morning went as expected—late to class, with her uniform haphazardly thrown on. Professor Trein made her stand outside for twenty minutes before finally letting her back in, and she gratefully slipped into her seat between Ace and Deuce. Though the two were notorious troublemakers, they left her in peace, allowing her to nap behind a book she propped up to look as if she were reading.

The following classes went in much the same way: some mild prodding from her classmates in her second class, a merciless session with Floyd in the third where he wouldn’t let her close her eyes for even a second, and finally a lunch break where she napped in the library. By her last class, she was somewhat awake, counting down the minutes until she could go to Diasomnia with her drawing.

As the bell rang, she set off, her heart pounding with excitement and a touch of nervousness. She’d spent so many nights working on this drawing that she wanted it to be perfect. Walking through the school, she felt the usual wary stares and heard the murmurs of students discussing Diasomnia and its prince with hushed voices. Most feared Malleus, but she couldn’t understand why. Perhaps it was because she’d met him alone in the quiet of the night, where they’d spoken freely without any pretense. She couldn’t help but feel that her bond with him was something rare, and maybe a bit fragile, too.

Upon arriving at Diasomnia, she noticed it was fairly quiet. When she asked after Malleus, most simply shrugged or said they didn’t know. A little disappointed, she learned that the third years might still be in lessons. Deciding to wait, she found a cozy spot in the lounge and settled in, passing the time by flipping through her sketchbook, which was filled with sketches of Malleus and scenes of Briar Valley as he’d described them.

Gradually, she began to grow drowsy from the soft, warm atmosphere of the lounge. The couch was incredibly comfortable, and before long, she’d drifted off, her sketchbook slipping onto her lap.

Some time later, the sensation of a weight lifting from her lap stirred her from sleep. She opened one eye groggily and noticed her sketchbook was missing. She shifted slightly, assuming it had fallen to the floor, and shut her eyes again, settling into the warmth of the armrest, deciding to look for it after another minute’s rest.

As Y/N rested peacefully, the sound of soft footsteps drifted through the lounge, though she remained undisturbed. Lilia, who had been wandering through Diasomnia’s halls, paused when he noticed her asleep on the couch. With a fond smile, he tilted his head, taking in the scene. Her presence here was unexpected, yet oddly familiar; she reminded him of Silver, the way she slept so soundly, though perhaps for entirely different reasons.

Lilia's gaze shifted to the sketchbook that had slipped onto her lap, its pages splayed open to reveal a delicate, meticulously drawn portrait of Malleus. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Careful not to wake her, he gingerly picked up the sketchbook, his interest piqued.

“Ohhh, my, what do we have here…” he murmured, flipping through the pages with a mischievous grin. Nearly every other page was filled with sketches of Malleus—his contemplative gaze, his horns under moonlight, the sharp angles of his jaw. Each drawing captured a different side of Malleus, showing an unusual softness to the usually distant prince.

“So many drawings of our dear Malleus…” he whispered to himself, chuckling. The comment stirred Y/N from her slumber, her eyelids fluttering open as she took in her surroundings with bleary confusion.

“Huh…?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. The sight of Lilia holding her sketchbook made her jolt upright, her cheeks flushing.

“Ah, good evening!” Lilia greeted, closing the sketchbook with a smirk as he looked at her, amused by her flustered expression. “Didn’t mean to wake you… though it seems you have quite an eye for detail.” He gave the sketchbook a playful wave.

“Um… th-that’s…” She stumbled over her words, her face warm with embarrassment as she tried to reach for the sketchbook, but Lilia held it just out of reach.

“Is Malleus your muse, perhaps?” Lilia teased, inspecting one of the more recent drawings. “This is really quite impressive. But I wonder… did he know about this little ‘collection’ you’ve made of him?”

She stammered, her hands shaking as she reached out. “N-no, he just… I mean… um, it’s for practice! Just practice! He has, uh, interesting… features.”

“‘Interesting features,’ is it?” Lilia laughed. “Yes, I’m sure the horns and dragon scales make for good practice. I’ll have to tell him he’s become quite the artist’s inspiration.”

Y/N’s face reddened even more, and she quickly snatched the sketchbook as Lilia relinquished it with an amused smile. Just as she was about to stumble over another explanation, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Y/N,” Malleus’s calm voice echoed as he entered the lounge, looking between her and Lilia. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

“Oh, Malleus!” She nearly jumped, clutching the sketchbook to her chest. Malleus’s gaze softened when he looked at her, though his attention soon turned to Lilia, who was watching them with a look of dawning realization and unrestrained amusement.

Lilia clasped his hands together with a dramatic sigh. “My, my, Malleus. I didn’t know you had such devoted company in our dorm, coming here to deliver artwork no less.”

Malleus raised an eyebrow, glancing between them as understanding dawned on him. “I see you’ve made yourself acquainted with Y/N.”

“Oh, yes, indeed,” Lilia replied, giving Y/N a conspiratorial wink. “She’s quite the talented artist—though I must say, your likeness seems to be her specialty.”

Y/N ducked her head, overwhelmed and burning with embarrassment, but Malleus simply looked at her, intrigued. “Is that so?” he asked, a slight smile gracing his lips as he reached a hand out toward her. “If it’s ready, I’d like to see it.”

Flustered, she nodded, opening her sketchbook to the finished drawing she’d been working so hard on, holding it out with trembling hands. Malleus examined it, his expression softening as he traced the lines with his gaze.

“It’s… beautiful,” he murmured, glancing at her with a look that held an unusual warmth. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Beside them, Lilia’s eyes gleamed with silent amusement, watching the two of them with interest. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you two alone,” he said with a wink, sauntering off with a chuckle.  “Just don’t keep her out too late, Malleus. I’m sure she needs her rest for all those upcoming drawings, hmm?”

Malleus watched Lilia disappear around the corner, shaking his head slightly as a small sigh escaped his lips. Turning back to Y/N, he noticed her still clutching her sketchbook tightly, her cheeks flushed. A gentle smile softened his normally serious expression, and he inclined his head to catch her gaze.

“You don’t need to be so nervous,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s only me.”

She managed a small, tentative smile, but the blush on her cheeks remained. “I know,” she murmured, looking down. “I… just didn’t expect Lilia to… well, you know…”

Malleus chuckled quietly. “He does have a way of surprising people, doesn’t he? Though I find it intriguing how many drawings of me you’ve created. I hadn’t realized I was such an interesting subject.” He paused, an amused gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. “Or perhaps I’m only interesting when it’s nighttime?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as his words sank in. Her blush deepened, and she stammered, “I-I mean, you’re… interesting all the time, I just… it’s easier to focus on drawing when there’s less going on. At night, you’re… well, easier to approach.”

Malleus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Am I, now?”

She nodded quickly, gripping the edges of her sketchbook. “Yes. I… I feel like I can be myself more when it’s just us. I don’t have to think too hard about… everything else.”

A warm silence settled between them, broken only by the soft rustling of the leaves in the courtyard beyond the lounge window. Malleus took a seat beside her on the lounge sofa, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. His hand rested casually on the cushion near her, though she could sense his attention focused entirely on her, an intensity lingering behind his composed demeanor.

“And I quite enjoy these moments we share at night,” he said quietly. “They are rare moments of solace. There aren’t many with whom I’d wish to spend this time.” His gaze was steady, almost possessive as it held her own. “You’re… different, Y/N.”

The way he spoke made her heart skip a beat, a warmth spreading in her chest that was both comforting and strangely unsettling. She swallowed, glancing down as she fumbled for words. “I… well, I like being here with you, too.”

Malleus smiled, satisfied with her response, and gestured toward her sketchbook. “May I see more?”

Wordlessly, she handed the sketchbook over, feeling a flicker of shyness as he carefully flipped through the pages.

[chevelleneech]

If Buddie happens, Buck being Eddie’s first and last is the only real outcome.

This is long, but if you read it, hopefully it makes sense.

Was reading a fic that made me think about the angst sure to come from Buck not wanting to date Eddie right away, because he’ll be afraid of what Tommy said, regarding someone’s first queer partner typically not being their last.

That has to come back around and mess with Buck, otherwise it was a cheap way to break them up given all the other reasons that would have made more sense. As such, if Buddie is the plan, that has to be part of the initial conflict keeping them apart.

However, I would also hope the story between them is resolved in a way that doesn’t paint Buck and Eddie’s individual queer discoveries with the same sort of brush strokes. Thus far, Buck kissed and man and was like, “Yeah, that makes sense. I’m a boy, girl, and everybody in between kisser.” Whereas Eddie is seemingly going to go through an experience where he either rediscovers his sexuality once he starts letting himself remember what it’s like to not be repressed, or he’ll be hit in the face with it and realize why he’s been so unhappy for so long. Either one is good.

What I’m looking for in terms of them getting together, if it happens, is Eddie getting to decide if Buck is his first and/or last. Because we know Buck will not want to ruin their friendship and be caught up in letting Eddie be happy and explore this new side of himself even though Buck never got to explore. (Unless they finally let him in 8x07 and 8x08). But, I’m getting g long winded. What I’m trying to say is, I would like to see Eddie decide exploration isn’t what he wants, instead of having it sort of pushed on him due to Buck’s insecurities.

I’d like to see Eddie understand his new sexuality, discuss it with Hen or Bobby or whomever he trusts, I’d even like to see him talk to someone in his family and ask them if they knew or had any inclination at all, because we didn’t get that with Buck. They kind of just took what we as a fandom theorized and made it canon. “Buck is bi and it’s been obvious to everyone.” So Hen jokes about it and no one is even slightly curious as to when he made this discovery of self, except Maddie because… because. She joked about him liking men, but sure, she’s the one who didn’t except it.

Anyway, point is, I’d like to see Eddie be proactive about it. Try to figure out if he was the only one who didn’t know that he liked men. And I would like to see that lead to him deciding he doesn’t need a first queer experience partner to guide him, because Eddie has been through serious relationship before, and also grew up much faster than Buck had to in that regard.

Eddie had to become a father and a husband (at least emotionally, because he wasn’t exactly present as either for very long early on) at 18 years old. So he knows what it’s like to settle down and move in and work to pay bills and compromise (sort of) with someone and see their flaws and all that. He super sped through that part of adulthood before he was old enough to really understand it. Then he experienced the death of his wife, and the fallout that took years. He also got into two serious relationships after Shannon, one of which led him to a panic attack and breakup at the thought of marriage, while the other almost saw him moving in with a woman, only for him to panic again and do a thing that cost him his son’s trust.

So Eddie has only ever had pretty serious relationships throughout his adulthood, while Buck has only really had one. Two if we count Abby, because she was a huge stepping stone to him growing up and changing himself for the better, but to me, their relationship was also not a relationship. He and Abby were on two completely different wavelengths, in the sense that Abby was seeking comfort and companionship as her mother died, while Buck was trying to prove he could be a one-woman man. So it was serious in the sense that it helped them both find new paths, but it wasn’t leading anywhere, making it an extended fling essentially.

Ally could sort of be a serious relationship, but I personally tend to forget Buck dated her because she was brought in to replace Abby, and that’s it. They wanted the heartthrob of the show to be dating someone, so they gave him a random girlfriend who they sent packing as soon as they cast someone who could stick around for a while, leading us to Taylor. Buck’s actual first serious girlfriend, who was also his longest relationship to date. They went through many ups and downs and learned things from each other, and helped Buck move into a more mature place as an adult. A place where Eddie already exists.

Where Tommy is concerned, he helped Buck through the discovery of his sexuality, but they had nothing in common and weren’t really compatible. So while I do standby my dislike of how their breakup was written, because there was no potential heartbreak to be had since they barely liked each other beyond physical and Buck wanting to make a new thing work… Tommy wasn’t wrong, I guess. There was nothing between them to keep them together long term, because they’d made it six months and were basically still strangers. Meaning Buck was going to settle in and realize he hadn’t explored and researched and did all the things that make Buck, Buck as he figured himself out. Therefore, them breaking up had to happen.

With Buddie, if they go there and Eddie is Buck’s second queer relationship, it’ll work because they have an established relationship already. He knows who Eddie is to him emotionally. He knows Eddie’s likes and dislikes, and they connect. They even work well in raising a child together. On the other hand, if Buck is Eddie’s first queer relationship, it’ll work because Eddie (at least in my mind) isn’t looking for a man to show him the ropes. He’s experienced all the relationship ups and downs he could ever need, and is likely looking for ease. Something and someone that makes sense and clicks, and doesn’t give him any anxiety or bring with them any uncertainty.

This was a really long round about way of saying: Buck dated Tommy because he is constantly afraid of being left alone with his thoughts. He needs people to see the good in him and stay with him to believe he’s loved/liked. Whereas Eddie is able to sit with his thoughts, because he doesn’t like letting people in. He needs people to see him from an outside perspective to believe he’s okay and isn’t burdening anyone. If they date, Buck will finally have found a partner who stuck around for years, simply because he likes Buck as a person. He is genuinely interested in who Buck is. While at the same time, Eddie will have finally found someone who doesn’t allow him to bury himself beneath his own lies. Someone willing to do the work to pull him out of his own head.

So Buck’s One has to be someone who has always been there, and whom he knows won’t leave because they had more than enough opportunity to do so, yet haven’t. Whereas Eddie’s One has to be someone who sort of forcibly stays, despite all the chances he gives them to leave. He doesn’t need a first boyfriend to breeze in and out, because that will send him spiraling into believing his sexuality is an issue. Buck won’t spiral for that reason, because he kind of doesn’t give a fuck what his sexuality is. He wants to be loved, while Eddie wants to be accepted, and they offer that to each other.

[anxiousthoughts365]

Comfortable

'Moony?' Remus looked up from his book to find James standing at the end of the sofa, and immediately his friend's demeanour made him sit up a little straighter.

James was trying his hardest to look at Remus, but despite his efforts, his hazel eyes kept darting around the room, seemingly of their own accord. The boy was also rocking slightly from side to side, shifting his weight from one foot to another, as though he just couldn't stay still, and he was twisting his long fingers together so rapidly that Remus worried for a moment that he might hurt himself.

Remus had only seen these signs a few times, but he instantly recognised what they meant. James Potter was nervous.

'What's up, Prongs?' Remus asked carefully, shifting so that his long legs slid off the sofa, making room for the other boy to sit. He ignored the twinge in his hip as James sank gratefully onto the cushion next to him. But even sitting, James couldn't be still. His leg bounced up and down rapidly, and he ran one hand distractedly through his already messy hair, somehow managing to make it look even more tousled than usual.

'I ...' James started, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he huffed in frustration and glared into the fire.

Remus swallowed the impulse to push. He'd learned over the last 6 years that both James and Sirius sometimes just needed a bit of space and quiet to talk. If they sought him out like this, it was usually because something was stuck and wouldn't come out in their usual haphazard way of just yelling their feelings at each other. He'd quickly learned to be patient in these moments, proud that he was able to provide this space for his friends (and later, as his relationship with Sirius developed, his boyfriend).

But as the minutes ticked by with James sitting silently, Remus was forced to exercise every ounce of restraint as he waited and waited. And waited. He was just forming a question that might get James started when the boy turned back to him and blurted, 'Am I boring?'

Remus might have laughed if his friend hadn't looked so distressed. Instead, he schooled his face into a neutral expression as he said, 'James, you are one of the least boring people I've ever met in my life. What on Earth made you think that?'

'Well, it's just ...' James took a deep breath, and Remus was alarmed to see his eyes growing shiny as he rambled, 'It's just that every time I hang out with Reg, he ... He falls asleep, Moony. I thought at first that it might just be because he's taken an extra class this year, and that maybe he was overdoing it. But it happens during the holidays as well. I mean, we do other stuff as well, but I've started to just accept that by the end of whatever we're doing he'll have fallen asleep on me. And I've tried to make things more exciting by taking him new places and showing him new things but -'

'Jamie,' Remus interjected hurriedly as his friend's words became slurred and breathless. He reached out to grip the boy's heaving shoulder, grounding him as he tried to catch his breath. 'You're not boring him, mate. It just means that he's comfortable with you.'

'What do you mean?' James gulped, wiping at his eyes and nearly knocking his glasses off in the process.

'I mean that you're making him feel safe,' Remus explained, a small smile creeping across his face as memories began to return to him. Memories of a young boy with long, soft black hair and a pale, haughty face. Memories of nights with limbs hopelessly tangled and steady, even breathing. Memories of whispered conversations and confessions. 'Don't you remember how Sirius would get at night when we all first started at Hogwarts?'

'Yeah,' James said slowly, his forehead creasing as he apparently tried to make the connection between his concerns and Remus' question. 'He was a nightmare. Wouldn't settle until like 2am. But then we figured out that if he slept in with someone else -' James cut himself off suddenly, his eyes widening, understanding flooding his face. 'Oh.'

'Another relic we can thank Walburga for,' Remus said wryly, any amusement gone from his tone. James' expression turned sharp, and he looked like he might ask Remus to go on, but the werewolf shook his head. 'Sirius told me his side of things, but that's not my story to tell. And it's not Regulus' story, either. You'll have to ask him.'

'Fair enough,' James rumbled, and Remus' chest ached at the hurt that flashed over his friend's face. He knew that it wasn't directed at him, knew that James was simply already feeling the pain of what he suspected Regulus might have had to endure that meant he didn't feel safe to sleep in his own bed and could only do so comfortably with James nearby. Then James was standing, already walking towards the portrait hole as he said, 'Cheers for that, Moony. See you later, yeah?'

'See you.' The portrait swung shut, and Remus sighed. He worried momentarily for his friend, whose heart was bigger than most realised. But it was a conversation he knew that James and Regulus would have to have at some point, anyway. Better that James didn't spend months in his own head, agonising over this and blaming himself for something he had no control over.

The memories that the discussion had stirred up were lingering, though, and all at once Remus had the need to seek out his own boyfriend, to make sure that he was alright. So he heaved himself up from the sofa and climbed the stairs to their dormitory, where he found Sirius lying on Remus' bed, his wand pointed at the canopy above him.

'Hey Moons,' Sirius said, without looking away from the trail of sparks he was weaving through the air above him. In moments, Remus had crossed the room and crawled up onto the bed, sinking down to press his face and chest against Sirius' torso, his hips nestled between Sirius' thighs. Slender fingers wound into the curls at the nape of his neck as Sirius asked, 'Everything alright?'

'Just needed to remind you how much I love you,' Remus murmured, turning his head to rest his chin on Sirius' sternum so he could meet the other boy's gaze. Silver eyes flashed, then softened, and Sirius' gentle smile was so beautiful that it made Remus' chest ache all over again.

'I love you,' Sirius whispered, and Remus scrambled up onto his hands and knees to press a deep kiss to Sirius' lips.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hey there, ‘s me <3 so, my first request will be for a story in a shell 🦪 for mattheo, with the "exes to lovers" trope i’ve been obsessed with lately, and the song will be sabrina’s good graces that i’ve been listening to pretty much ever since the release. i think it would be cute with the trope. thanks in advance 💘

Hey there me, it's Ivy! ⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)づ (sorry that was a terrible joke; I think it's my dad's influence) Anyways, thank you so much for requesting, honey (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) And yes I had good graces playing on loop the whole time I was writing it (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

ivy's 1k celebration 🦪 navigation 🦪 characters

ˋ°•*⁀➷ MATTHEO RIDDLE exes to lovers with good graces by sabrina carpenter

The party was in full swing, voices buzzing and music thrumming through the walls. You could feel eyes on you, not the least of which belonged to Mattheo Riddle from across the room. Every so often, you’d look his way, meeting his gaze with a taunting smirk before turning your attention back to Theo, who was by your side, grinning like he knew exactly what kind of game you were playing.

The sound of laughter bubbled up as you leaned in closer to Theo, trailing a finger down his arm and smiling sweetly. “You know, I think you might actually be my favorite person tonight, Theo.”

His laugh was smooth, leaning closer to match your energy. “Glad to hear it. Though I can’t say that’s everyone’s opinion tonight.”

You knew who he was talking about but before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Mattheo’s tone was laced with a mix of annoyance and a bit of jealousy as he looked between you and Theo, his jaw tight. “Didn’t know you’d be here, Theo.”

Theo just raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Hey, it’s a party, man. She invited me, didn’t she?”

You turned to Mattheo, one brow raised as you toyed with the rim of your glass, letting the tension settle thick around you. “Jealous, Riddle?”

His lips curved into a smirk, though his gaze was anything but amused. “Only if I thought there was anything real going on here.”

“Oh?” You leaned in closer, voice dropping, making sure only he could hear you. “Guess you should have stayed in my good graces, huh?”

A flicker of irritation crossed his face, but he didn’t back down. “Funny, coming from someone who used to be ‘sweet like an angel,’ as if you’d do anything for me.”

You shrugged, giving him a slow, infuriating smile. “I am still 'sweet like an angel', Mattheo. But I don’t waste that and my time on people who don’t deserve it, sweetheart. Besides, there are plenty of other guys who appreciate my attention. Like Theo here,” you added with a pointed look, making sure he caught your meaning.

His jaw tightened, his voice dropping lower as he took a step toward you, closing the distance between you. “You think this is funny? Trying to make me jealous?”

“Why would I care what you think?” You whispered, just close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath against his skin. “Trust me, darling, I don’t give a fuck about you. Not anymore.”

There was a spark of something dark and hungry in his eyes as he leaned in even closer, his lips just barely grazing your ear. “Then why are you still here, talking to me?”

“Who says I’m here for you?” you countered, your voice all bite, but your heart was thudding as you took in every feature of his face. “You’re the one who keeps showing up, trying to ruin my fun.”

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but his hand lingered near yours, fingers almost touching. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re really over it.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to let him see you falter. “I’m over you, Mattheo,” you whispered fiercely, lips brushing against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

His eyes darkened, a wicked smirk twisting his lips as he looked at you, clearly unfazed. “You really want me to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “It’s not my problem if you’re still caught up on something that’s long gone. Just don’t expect me to sit around waiting for you to get it together.”

A dangerous glint sparked in his gaze, that familiar cockiness slipping back into place as he edged closer, eyes boring into yours. “You don’t waste time, huh? Right. So that’s why you’re here, standing in front of me, talking like you care about every word I’m saying.”

Your breath hitched for just a second before you steeled yourself, stepping back. “Don't mistake my nice for naïve, Riddle, I’m done. So unless you’re here to show me something real, you can find someone else to play your games with.”

He just stared at you, frustration flickering across his features as he tried to find the words. “Maybe I don’t know what to say. But maybe I’ll figure it out.”

For the first time that night, you let a little softness creep into your tone, though you didn’t let him see any hint of weakness. “Yeah? I guess we’ll see.”

You turned, disappearing back into the crowd, leaving him standing there, the mix of frustration and longing plain on his face.

The night dragged on, tension simmering between you and Mattheo like fire, every glance, every shared look, a new unspoken challenge.

Eventually, you stepped out into the night, the cool air biting at your skin. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of Mattheo’s words—and the way they still made your heart race.

You’d barely gotten two steps outside before you heard him again, his voice unmistakable. “Leaving so soon?”

You didn’t turn, knowing he was already close behind. “And if I am?”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a thrill down your spine. “You don’t have to play coy with me. You and I both know there’s unfinished business.”

Turning slowly, you met his gaze, refusing to let him see the conflict raging inside you. “You keep talking, but I don’t see any actions, Mattheo. You don’t get to act like you care after all this time.”

He stepped forward, his face a perfect mask of intensity. “You’re right. I don’t deserve it. But I’m still here, aren’t I?”

The air between you was thick, every word charged with the weight of old feelings. You fought to keep your voice steady, refusing to give him any satisfaction. “Then maybe it’s time for you to stop waiting around. If you think you deserve my time, prove it.”

There was a flicker of determination in his eyes, his hands reaching out to cup your face. You froze, feeling every inch of distance between you vanish in an instant. He looked down at you, his voice low and hoarse. “Then let me prove it.”

The seconds dragged on, tension thick and consuming as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as intense as it was inevitable. You gave in, matching his fervour, the unresolved anger and passion spilling into each kiss, each lingering touch.

Finally, you broke away, breathless, heart pounding as you met his gaze with a knowing smirk. “Stay in my good graces, Mattheo. Or I’ll walk out of your life and never look back.”

His gaze softened, a smirk of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. “I don’t intend to mess this up again.”

For once, you let your guard down, allowing a touch of vulnerability to show as you looked up at him. “Good. Because I don’t give second chances.”

His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes warm and full of promise. “Then I guess I’ll just have to make it count.”

And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, he was ready to do exactly that.

[mechazushi]

Calm Before The Storm {A Kn8 short story} [Directly inspired by Ch. 117] soooooo...spoilers

Kneeling on a pillow before a low peach wood desk, settled a man. A powerful man with a powerful presence, having long hair and dressed in dark purple robes with woven black silk and kaiju armor, fitting for a high ranking kaiju killer. He continued to write, unbothered by the audience before him. Standing at attention beside the official was a soldier in full regalia, his face obscured into anonymity.

"If that is everything, then everyone is dismised." Soshiro Hoshina, leader of the Hoshina clan, commanded to the squad leaders he had summoned to his personal office.

While the rest had bowed graciously and filed out in-sync, one had decidedly stayed behind against orders. Konomi Okonogi, an lower ranked advisor to the clan had stood unshaken before the forth son of the Hoshinas. She was waiting quietly for him to acknowledge her on his own. A small moment passed, filled with the quiet swishing and slicing of a stiff brush gliding over paper. The soldier, noticing that the advisor hadn't left had also noticed his commander refusing to acknowledge the wayward interloper. The soldier let out a muffled cough as a cover for him to disguise a nudge to his higher officer with his foot. Being jarred from his concentration on official paperwork, Soshiro finally decided to address the nosy advisor in the room.

"Is there something to be left said, Miss Okonogi? As you can see, everyone else had left."

"Yes, there is." The locally stationed advisor stated, "It's about your continued decision to employ someone with... lackluster talents as your personal guard. Your family remains ever concern about such choices."

"And they will continue to worry as they are prone to do so as blood relatives." Hoshina finally looked up from his work and looked at the advisor fully, "They may question it all they like, but it will not change the fact that I have made it." He looked back down dismissively to begin again on his paperwork.

"Since the fourth son of a somewhat prominent family is not in that high of demand, my guard's skills are sufficient enough for his task which, need I remind you, is escorting me across town to my family's manor and back. Nothing more." He resumed the meditative writing as a way of making his point clear and matter resolved.

Okonogi sniffed stiffly as she took the transgression silently. She bowed nonetheless and shuffled herself out the office door. After closing it behind her, the soldier let out a low sigh of relief. Hoshina chuckled to himself, somehow finding all of it funny.

"Ya know, for a group of people ya hardly see, they sure like to press on personal matters." The soldier finally spoke when he felt the sudden tension leave his shoulders.

"They're not pressing the matter, she is." Soshiro sighed as he started the process of cleaning up his brush, "She's being paid to question any decision I make that doesn't sound like any my family would make themselves." Hanging the brush on a rack and shuffling some items on his desk around for cleanliness sake, the commander eventually lifted himself from his kneeling position and let out a long and low groan as he stretched, satisfied.

"Come along, darling. After leading training and all of that paperwork, I feel a deep need for a cleansing." Soshiro said as he slid his hands into his oversized sleeves.

"I've told you not to call me that." The soldier's warning was muffled through the clay face mask he wore.

"Oh please, we're the only people on his side of the manor now. And in a few minutes, I get to call you whatever I want." Hoshina retaliated with a hint of joy undercutting the mocking statement.

The two of them filed out of the small office, the commander in front and his loyal body guard never far behind. It was well past sunset and the sky made it clear it was reaching late dusk. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the paper doors that lined the long hallway to the natural hot spring located on premises. Once they entered the outdoor bath and had closed the door, making sure it couldn't be opened easily, only then did the energy in the air begin to waver. It changed from official and stale, to feeling charged, almost teetering on playful or mischievous.

Soshiro found a lit candle on a nearby stool and followed his guard as they walked the stone path that lined the edge of the spring. Kafka did his part of unhooking metal lanterns that hung from tall wooden post high in the air and brought them down to chest level for Soshiro to light them. After making certain that any night breeze wouldn't extinguish the little flame easily, did Kafka hang the lantern back up and move on. They made a full lap around the spring and walked back to the front of the bath. Soshiro tugged on one end of a strip of leather that held back most of the glossy locks that draped from his regal head and sighed as its weight shifted.

"Well, are you going to help me or not?" The commander tittered playfully as he stoked his hair over his shoulder. He watched his soldier tug at the strings holding his face mask in place. A hand came up to rub away the thin sheen of sweat that had built up under it as the other placed the mask on a table.

"One of these days' we're gonna get caught because of your impatience" The soldier said as he made himself see clearly again.

Dropping the mask revealed the man underneath to be Kafka Hibino, once a lowly foot soldier in the Monkey squad, now currently having the coveted position of being Soshiro Hoshina's personal escort and body guard. A position he wasn't aiming for, but with how his relationship with the fourth son of the Hoshina's was going, it wasn't one he minded terribly. While it was blatant favoritism that earned him the position, it was clear to the both of them that it could never be trusted to anyone else. He began to walk over to where Soshiro was waiting patiently to have help removing the heavy Kaiju-leather plates that make up a hunter's armor.

"If you keep talking about it, eventually you'll make it so. I almost wonder if you want it to happen." Soshiro sang with a honeyed tone.

"It will happen if you don't fix the problem of not being able to keep your hands to yourself." Kafka stated as he began to mess with the ties holding the pauldrons to his shoulders. He smirked as he chuckled in his mind, thinking about all the times he had to stop his commander from launching himself across tables at people, from starting duels in the street, or making sure he didn't get caught with his hand snaking their way onto his body guard's... person.

"I haven't ever heard you complain about it before." His commander said with mock admonishment. He held onto the discarded pauldrons as Kafka began to work on the belts holding the chest piece in place. "Maybe it just means we're both rotten to the core." Hoshina continued to tease as he leaned back closer to Kafka's chest.

"It's not hard to be influenced by you when you make yourself so inviting." Kafka hummed as he leaned in closer to Soshiro's ear, "I just consider myself lucky that I'm the only one my commander had decided to make himself a completely vulnerable fool in front of." He whispered as his hands traveled southward, past the belt that held up the lower portion of armor and unexpectedly squeezed his partner's upper thigh.

Soshiro jabbed him with his elbow in retaliation, causing the two of them to giggle and make Kafka lose his grip on the belt. He finished with his task and helped remove the chest plate afterward. Once he gathered all the removed armor and set them on the table, did he offer himself up to his commander for the same courtesy. Kafka let him pull at the strings holding his helmet in place, the both of them knowing full well that he could do it himself. They knew as well that Soshiro liked the opportunity to hold his lover's face in his hands.

After taking off the helmet, Kafka took it out of Soshiro's hands so his could be free to caress his. A face marked with long healed scars and patchy scruff, it was a face he found only his commander seemed to truly love. Fingertips traced the edges of its rough details while eyes drank in its softer ones. The small maze of wrinkles that lined his lips and brow, those gem-like blue-green eyes that could melt snow capped mountains or freeze them solid, and that warmth of a good soul that seemed to seep from every piece of contact his lover's hands could make on his face. These details were expressed to him, time and time again, but he never believed them until he heard it straight from his commander's honest lips.

One hand removed itself from the helmet it was holding so it could trap Hoshina's and bring it closer to his lips, allowing a moment where Kafka could drink in the other's essence as well. Savoring the cool skin on his and smelling the ink and leather oil sunk deep into Soshiro's natural perfume, permanently etching his presence onto the ridges of Kafka's mind. He sniffed and sighed and kissed it lightly before he let it go. Kafka liked to watch intently as those same hands roamed his body, giving him the same care and attention to his armor that he gave to his commander. It wasn't long before he was stripped of his armor as well. He took it from Soshiro as laid it to rest next to the other pile on the table.

Hoshina began to busy himself with removing the cloth robes that remained, not giving them any loving courtesy like the armor was given. They were quickly shed onto the stones before Soshiro stepped foot into the searing warmth of the spring water. Dunking his head in, he resurfaced swiftly and smoothed away some errant strands of hair from his vision. He began to tug on the last of the leather strip that held the rest of his hair back as he watched Kafka from the borders of the spring. As it all fell down heavily, Soshiro busied his hands with sweeping it behind his shoulders while he continued to rudely gawk at his partner undressing.

He had seen that man naked more times than he had seen himself, and he never tired from the view. Strong muscle wrapped and coiled around the soldier's arms while his torso held a softer image. Hoshina knew better than to doubt that rounded appearance, having seen and certainly felt what that upper body was capable of. His tongue darted out and swiped across his lips in reaction to seeing the top shirt being removed fully and folded onto the table. He moved closer to the rounded stone skirting of the small pool and saddled up to the edge in quiet anticipation. As Kafka's hands reached to waist of his pants, they stilled as he developed the familiar sensation of being watched.

"Do you really have to stare at me every time I undress?" Kafka called back, not bothering to turn around to confirm his suspicions.

"Do you have to act like a bashful maiden every time I do?" Soshiro teased as he stayed rooted to his spot.

Hoshina found himself biting his lip as Kafka just sighed and removed the rest of his clothing. He moved out of the way as Kafka strode over and began to act as if he was about to enter the pool, only to sweep the discarded robes off the floor and smirked coyly at Soshiro as he walked away with them

"I don't know why it bothers you so much. It's not like I haven't had you under me or anything." Soshiro teased back as he watched Kafka continue to put away the discarded attire.

"You start up that kind of attitude this early and I'm leaving." Kafka grumbled as his cheeks flushed bright red.

"If you're not in the mood, just say so." His commander pouted as he turned away from him in slacking scorn.

"Only because I'd like a chance to actually relax first." Kafka said with easy-going indignance. He returned to the pool holding the jade comb they used whenever they came to the spring together. Soshiro scoffed, but shifted himself into position anyway as his partner carefully splashed his way in.

"It would work that way as well. Hell's, I'd like to think that you would end up more relaxed by the time I was done." he joked as he leaned back into Kafka's awaiting lap, propping himself up between his knees.

"You're incorrigible." Kafka sighed as he shook his head.

He spent the passing time slowly raking the comb through the long silken strands of Soshiro's hair, taking care to brush slowly and chip away at any knots going from bottom to top. After making sure it was free of tangles, did he take more of their time combing through it all in long passes, just to savor the feeling. Soshiro reveled in the attention, never not once hating the feeling of being attended to like this. Sure, he had servants help him dress in the morning and even do his hair, but none of it felt the same as when it was done by someone he loved. Every few passes of the comb, he would feel short nails caress and scritch as his scalp, removing an itch that he didn't realize was even there. On windless nights, Soshiro could hear a deep, reverberating hum from the depths of Kafka's chest, usually a marching chant or a drinking hymn. The repeated, loving motions, the all-encompassing blanket of warmth, paired with the harmony of the wind and leaves matching the water and waves lapping at the stone beat for beat. Hoshina would willingly go penny-less and destitute, sick and infirm, if it meant he got to keep these moments forever.

Deep in the cavern of his blissfully silent mind, it took a while for Soshiro to notice that Kafka had stopped brushing and took up plaiting the infinite length. To be honest, he wasn't a fan of it. Leaving in the braid too long usually bent it into weak crimps and he could already hear the judging murmurs of his servants who had to deal with it in the morning. He was aware that Kafka was just the type of person who always felt the need to keep his hands busy. A trait that benefited him when it came to squad relations. Rarely was there ever an idle task when Kafka was released from his body guard duties. It was just how he spent his time relaxing, but did Kafka really have to take it out on his hair?

"You're doing it again." Soshiro muttered lazily, not bothering to stop his lover.

"I know." Kafka responded simply, the smile unmistakable in his soft voice.

"You know everyone hates it when you do that." The commander sighed. He heard a puffy chuckle before Kafka responded.

"Do you know why I do it anyway?" he said as he held his hand out for the leather hair tie.

"Mmm... Humor me." Soshiro softly moaned and he began to feel those gentle hands move again.

"Because no one knows it's me." He whispered, "Because it makes your hair do a fun little dance for me as I follow you around. It's something I do to you that lets me remember that I'm yours." He finished curling the long braid around itself into a snug bun and cinched it up with the leather cord

"And you're mine." Kafka tacked on tenderly, along with a quick peck to an unsuspecting commander's forehead.

"Well then... I guess I can't bring myself to hate it as well." Soshiro declared as he lifted himself to a higher sitting position.

"Especially after hearing something so sweet." He scooted himself more fully into Kafka's lap and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

Their lips touched and moved languidly against each other. No need to rush or to stop was felt when they started, and there wouldn't be for the rest of all their night together. Such was the case when two lovers fell into a wanting dance. Kafka softly sighed as his partner's hand tugged at the hairs of his nape and soothingly massaged the back of his neck. Soshiro beamed as he felt his soldier's sharp teeth and pointed canines pull teasingly at his lower lip, causing a breathy giggle. Hibino broke away from the dance first, deciding to slowly lavish a trail of wet kissed down the taut plains of Hoshina's neck. He tasted the sulfur of the water and the salt of the sweat as he savored the journey to the hard edges of his bath-mate's bare shoulder.

It was there that Kafka decided to stop his conquest and inhale his lover's scent once again. Breathing deep and slow, he made his mind expand and bask in all that he could feel, all he could sense. His arms unconsciously tightened around Soshiro's waist as a wisp of melancholy seeped into his heart. His nose nuzzling its way back up the path he made on the neck felt very much different from the moments they were making before. Hoshina dug deep into his will to separate their chests from each other so he could look his love in the eyes. He felt his smile carry a hint of the melancholy that had seemed to enter Kafka's heart as well as invaded the sanctity of his expressive face. A hand traveled from Kafka's broad chest to tease the corner of his lips into a happier expression.

"Your mind is very loud again. It's practically coming out of your eyes." Soshiro huffed quietly as he continued to watch the other's face shift through different shades of the same emotion.

"It's just... this... the world... something's been feeling off lately. Like this isn't going to last forever." Kafka's voice rumbled with the weight that he had been feeling on his shoulders.

"You're manifesting again." Soshiro called back, thinking a joke would help lighten the mood.

"It doesn't feel like that. More so like a... premonition. A gut feeling that's arrived and hasn't left." Kafka brought his face closer, rubbing his nose against Soshiro's and sought comfort and warmth in their closeness, "I keep waking up in the morning, thinking that it's going to be the last time I get to see you. It scares me."

"I would rather be stabbed through the heart before I let things stay that way between us." His lover affirmed solidly as he brought both of his hands to cage Kafka's face, "This isn't coming from what Miss Okonogi said earlier about my family, is it?"

"I wish its origins were that simple. I've had this feeling for a while now." Kafka's gaze softened even more as he basked in their continued embrace.

"If that feeling gets worse, I want you to remind yourself of one thing." Soshiro spoke softly, treating each word like a fragile feather.

"And what's that?" Kafka whispered back, a flicker of hope sparkling in the shape of his lips twitching into a smile.

"No matter what comes, no matter what happens, may it be something trivial, or the ending of the world, I will be yours." Soshiro placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of Kafka's nose as he continued to promise, "And I will find you no matter where, no matter when, and tell you that, over and over again. In as many different ways as needed until you never feel like this again."

They continued to indulge in each other's comforting presence until their tired minds couldn't take being awake anymore. Even as Kafka felt his mind be overtaken with the inescapable need for sleep, his mind echoed his partner's sentiment over and over again. He knew those words were true, and knew better than to doubt a promise from his commander and lover, but it affected little to the growing fear that leeched onto the fibers of his emotions. One thing he said did seep in however. He knew, really and truly knew, that they would find each other. Again and again.

No matter what.

[dumbthiccbitch666]

genuinely starting to lose faith in dating n i really don’t wanna

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[tekka-dan]

Hello,

I realize that I haven’t really been “here” for roughly an entire year now. My last “me” post was right before coming into 2024.

In light of the recent election as of 2024–I was starkly reminded of my descent into madness, anger, bitterness and concern from the year 2016. I was still living at home with my parents, single and no kids. I thought the world as I knew it was coming to an end and I thought everyone I knew who voted for Trump weee backstabbing, bold faced liars; most of these people were my friends and it was disheartening to believe that if they supported someone like him but were playing cool to my face, who could I trust and believe in after all?

I disappeared from then and I found solace in the Naruto fandom, the only place I was able to quell my anger and hurt from the world and reality I was apart of. I will never take for granted the people I met during this time, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it for eternity: they saved my life.

Fast forward to 2024 and I am still single and living alone but this time it’s been 3 years since moving out and life is less hectic and different…but it’s better.

Most people don’t know that I entered into a relationship in August 2023 that was rushed and misaligned with everything I wanted and valued but I became desperate for partnership, acceptance and value. So I settled with someone who went on to teach me great lessons, mainly that you shouldn’t rush connections for anyone or any reason. I finally departed from that relationship as of September 2024 and slowly my world has come back into full bloom again, I’m not seeing everything in gray scale or feeling like an outsider looking in. I’m apart of my own life. I became my own main character.

That said, I also have been stable with my career for over a year now and this has allowed me to have fun money and take vacations! I recently visited Washington DC on a whim and I just so happened to be there before and after the US Election of 2024. Despite the bustling of the world on tv news and social medias; the home of where the President resides is actually fairly quaint and quiet. Many people didn’t voice their concerns or opinions about the election, many of them seemed to understand that this is just how the world works and we will have to fall in line. All that being said, I learned plenty about myself while on this trip and about life in general.

Having emotional intelligence will always save your life. No matter what situations you face or endure, even overcome, staying sharp and remaining emotionally adept is key. Nobody stormed the White House nor the Capital. People just slung their briefcases from one shoulder to the next and stood in line for the next approaching metro.

Life really does go on.

I wanted to share some pictures I had taken while on my 4 day vacation. I like these the most because the rest are pictures of the museums I went to, lol. However these are the only pictures I’ve taken of myself since January 2024.

Being in that rotten relationship really took so much out of me, it took away my light and my enthusiasm for the world and everything around me. I wasn’t taking pictures of myself or anyone else; I was just existing from one day to the next.

To see these photos and my sheer happiness and I can actively say I AM happy with my life and the way it’s going currently—feels like a milestone I actually want to commemorate, so I’m sharing them.

As this year comes to an end, please stay safe and golden. The election was sorely disappointing for a country as a whole but nonetheless we will persevere. We always have. Thanks for reading!

[isaiahking]

isaiah sometimes sat down at home and thought what gabriel's life could've became if he was still alive. maybe he would've settled down with a nice young lady and ended up with a family of his own? maybe he was secretly in love with violet's brother who he claimed was his best friend? maybe he would've ended up loving his life in the end? isaiah didn't want to sit and dwell on all the what ifs because it hurt. gabriel had had so much to live for but the one thing that kept him going had died and left him behind and he couldn't live with himself after witnessing such tragedy happening. maybe it was survivors guilt that had caused him to ultimately stop eating and caring. gabriel dying in isaiah's arms outside of his parents place was a life altering moment for him. nothing was ever the same after that. isaiah's fear of death vanished from that moment - which was weird. gabriel would be there one day - welcoming him with a brotherly hug. still, isaiah had so much to live for, he'd only been in his teens then. "please be careful the next time you start making out in the kitchen so that my husband doesn't need to come and play hero to you all." isaiah hated the thought of most of the people he loved all being inside one burning building. that's a scene he didn't want to witness. "you've got plenty of other rooms you can secretly make out inside." violet and reign could sneak inside any one of those and be safe. isaiah's eyes shifted to ayiden's son playing around on his IPAD. ayiden was the cutest kid in the world. he looked happy and content. "yeah, i do. i think starting with the truth will help them understand." isaiah knew nala might not understand as much as ayiden did yet. ayiden was slightly older than nalani. "talk and let them ask questions. answer them as much as you both can." isaiah had faith that ayiden would understand that reign was someone that could bring extra happiness into his mommy's life. "sneaking around will be harder to explain - especially if ayiden is the one catches you both." isaiah would cross his fingers that it wouldn't come to that. violet and reign were smart enough to make the best decisions for their kids. talking about his own future excited him. he couldn't wait to have a kid running riot around the house and coming back to all the chaos. "i'll be in tears the first glimpse i get at seeing my future little one." isaiah could get emotional sometimes. life was too precious to him. isaiah took his phone out of his pocket to check his husbands work schedule and placed it back into his back pocket. his husband was working late tonight which meant he could stay at violet's for a bit. "leo's back at work again. i think he was excited to go back there." isaiah knew leo loved his job and hated being at home without anyone else there. his co-workers would be there to support him. "we've got like two and half hours until i need to head back. i think that's more than enough time to have dinner with you two, huh?" isaiah clapped his hands together and looked around the kitchen. "what do you want me to help out with?"

violet had loved having isaiah in her life before ayiden, but since her ex-boyfriend left, she realized how much she truly needed him. he had always been there for her in a way that not even her parents had been. he stood by her side through the worst of it—when she was doubled over in cramps, when she was a complete mess—and now he was there for ayiden, which was the best thing she could ask for. she knew that if she could be as good of a role model to her son as isaiah was, he would grow up to be an amazing man just like him. her heart swelled at the thought of their little family unit, knowing that ayiden was surrounded by love, even without a traditional dad. “i don’t want to imagine it,” violet laughed, shaking her head as she covered her face with her hands, her cheeks warming at the thought. “it would have been really embarrassing! not much better, though—we only stopped because of the smell. if my oven wasn’t as old and broken as it is, leo would have probably knocked the door down!” she chuckled, though the thought of getting them into trouble did scare her a little. she often wished that leo hadn’t had to come into her life under such circumstances, but there he was, a constant source of support. as isaiah gestured that he wasn't going to pry into what reign thought, she nodded, a laugh escaping her lips. she glanced over at ayiden, who was busy playing. he was such a great kid, but sometimes he chose the wrong things to play with. it wasn’t iPad time at the moment, but she knew she’d have to cave and give him some time to indulge in those games he loved. “you think that’s the right way?” she asked, her eyes locking onto isaiah’s, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “i’ll talk to reign. maybe he thinks they’re ready for it.” she nodded, feeling more confident about the decision. “i feel like i want to tell them so things can be more natural and not just sneaking around,” she confessed. “maybe this friday, i’ll tell him how i feel about it,” violet mused. “the kids’ talk can come after that,” she added with a laugh. “oh, don’t worry! i’ll make sure to be the coolest auntie ever. i know how to read kids’ minds, remember?” she teased, her playful spirit shining through. she had been working with kids long enough to master that ability, and she loved how much she could connect with ayiden. “i hope i’m there to take those pictures when you meet them. you’ll probably be crying, and all the pictures will be blurry!” she teased, squeezing his hand affectionately. “you’re going to be such a great father,” she smiled, her heart full of warmth. “now, do you want to have dinner with us? if you have to meet leo, we’ll totally understand,” she added, hoping to share that special moment together.

[justinefrischmanngf]

i have so much information about this random man’s sex life now because people in their late 20s LOVE telling me too much about their lives and i love listening to people be insane

[bongsavior]

These days i'm realizing i haven't moved on