#the soggy pockets

[reyofsunshne]

The Soggy Pockets at The Leadbeater Hotel, Naarm

[sukuaeheddo]

why doesn’t the big jay eat the little jay??

[willowser]

i was never really into dabi…..but the devil has grabbed me by the ankles and swung me into hell…………do you think you could maybe rec some of your fav dabi fics (or blogs)?🥹🥹

swung you into dabi hell qifbfuajak he truly is...a force to be reckoned with.....he WILL NOT let you leave btw 😔 but i'm happy to have you here with us 🥹🥹🥹

let's see....i will read anything @heich0e and @ghostbeam write about him, this by @shiggybrainr0t is beautiful, @saintshigaraki has The Dabi Piece of all time, this fic by @dashielldeveron is post-canon and looks so healing and it will make me cry, mao is writing easily my favorite dabi fic of all time, i'm sure of it already, but if you want to check it out, you need to read the tags and respect the story !! please !!! okay only if you promise then here :3

those are the first that come to mind !!!! i am probably forgetting something bc i'm here thinking about it but i feel like i haven't seen too much dabi lately !!!!! but i am also a lil picky about the characterizations i prefer hehe

but if anyone else has any dabi recs, please share !!!! for friend in need here !!! 🥹

[cillixn]

this reminded me of you and your tags 😅

omg stop lmaooo but srsly that literally describes these two

[mariatesstruther]

okay but a fic following tommy in jackson as he watches sarah’s look-alike grow up and have her baby. maybe he develops his own relationship with this girl and her kid, and it helps him deal with losing sarah??????? perhaps????? stay with me!

like we see how hard it was for joel to see her just once in 1x06. assuming tommy’s been in jackson for years, which i do, he has probably watched this young woman grow into an adult, getting struck with that pain of distant familiarity every single time he sees her. i imagine it would lowkey torture him until he truly confronts his grief over sarah and the life she could’ve lived

and imagine when she—im gonna name her kiara bc i hate when characters don’t have names—gets pregnant. tommy has to watch as kiara’s belly gets bigger and bigger, watch as the jackson community frets over her hand and foot because jackson takes extra special care of it’s pregnant residents, watch from the sidelines as kiara gets a future that sarah will never have while looking just like her

but THEN maybe he gets to know her a little bit???? maybe kiara knows he does housework and eventually asks maria if anyone can help fix-up and baby-proof her little two-bedroom house to prepare for the little one. maria knows tommy would be the perfect man for the job, but she also knows that he keeps careful distance from kiara on purpose

she sees the way his shoulders tense and his easy expression drops every time she’s in his line of sight. she saw how one time, when kiara had come over to talk to maria while she was sitting with him, tommy could barely handle looking at her up close: he ended up staring at his plate and clearing it—even the squash medley, which she knows he fucking hates—until he had reason to leave the hall completely.

but there truly is no one else she would rather help kiara; the only other person that does housework as good as tommy is fuckin jacob, and jacob is seth’s best friend, which means he’s a lowkey bigoted asshole that will only do “favors” for maria if he gets something in return. she, frankly, doesn’t want him anywhere near kiara. so maria still talks to tommy about it, and because he’s the most selfless loving man she’s ever met, he agrees. they talk about backup plans and what tommy should do if he gets too triggered—they’ve been working at distress tolerance and detecting when his mind is going fuzzy, so he knows to get straight to their home and wait for maria when it happens. privately, maria talks to kiara and tells her that tommy is still dealing with some stuff that triggers him and might need breaks once in ahwile; she knows to go get maria immediately if this happens

so tommy helps kiara out, and along the way they get to talking and being more friendly with each other. kiara reveals that she’s extremely nervous to be a mom, that she’s doing it alone (the asshole that was with her split jackson when he foundnout because men still be menning in their apocalypse). she tells tommy that she’s never been more scared to do anything in her whole life, and she lived alone as a young girl in FEDRA-run QZ

and suddenly, tommy realizes he has had almost this exact conversation before. with joel. he remembers standing by and watching joel freak out over baby-proofing their place, raving and ranting: how am i supposed to do this, tommy? we have too many fucking cabinets—look at all of these fucking cabinets! aye, im gonna ruin her. and tommy had been speechless in the face of all that fear. he knows how scared they both were, and he knows what he would’ve wanted to hear then, too. with the gift of time and wisdom, he finally knows what to say

so he comforts kiara, and by some miracle, it actually works. he tells her about joel raising sarah alone, and how terrifying it all seemed, right up until she actually got to them: he tells her how all that terror turned into love the moment he held that little ray of sunshine in his arms. he tells her about how sarah used to be what he and joel called a boo-boo magnet, constantly falling over and knocking into shit, always having bumps, scrapes, and bruises as a result. most importantly, he told kiara, she was always just fine: as long as she felt loved, sarah was always just fine. kiara’s baby would be just fine, too

and this convo changes kiara’s whole perspective, her whole vibe. tommy see’s the difference in her now, when he spots her in the dining hall or walking across town with a hand on her belly, tense with excitement instead of anxiety. he feels the difference in himself, too: he’s no longer struck with the abstract pain of remembrance as he sees her, now. he just feels honest friendship, true familiarity, and a rush of fond protectiveness for her that reminds him of the way he felt for sarah. it doesn’t hurt, or at least not the same way. it feels good, knowing kiara as kiara, not as the ghost of his niece. it feels right

she always makes sure to stop and talk to him when they cross paths, asking him about his work around town (or teasing him about he and maria, because at this point they’re trying to keep it lowkey but. kiara knows. talia knows. half of jackson suspects it and kiara wants the inside scoop okay so SPILL tommy just tell me!!!!!). somehow, tommy has developed a good relationship with the girl he thought he’d never have the guts to speak to

when kiara is on her last couple weeks of pregnancy, mostly bedridden and definitely ready to give birth, she asks tommy to stop by once every few days to have lunch or dinner with her. it always suprises him, but he always goes. they talk mostly about raising children: how different it seems to be post-2003, how scared kiara still is even despite her new confidence, how tumultuous sarah’s first few months were. he realizes, later, that he hasn’t talked about sarah this much to anyone but maria since she’s passed. he finds their conversations ease the ache in him more than avoiding kiara ever could’ve

when kiara has the baby, tommy accidentally becomes a quasi-godfather-uncle-grandparent without even having been asked. it’s clear that, from their time together, kiara is very fond of him—judging from the way her baby, kelsey, always settles down and stares at him in wonder whenever he’s around, it’s clear she likes him too. when kelsey becomes old enough to smile, she’s never ever around tommy without grinning and giggling, enamored by his silly face and silly voice and silly mustache, which she’s always trying to pull off. when kelsey becomes old enough to walk, kiara can’t bring her anywhere near tommy without the toddler trying her best to baby-sprint over to him. more than once, she’s fallen smack-down onto her face and gotten right back up, arms outstretched to tommy as she continues determinedly to toddle over. when kelsey becomes old enough to speak, she’s constantly calling for him and babbling to him when kiara finally brings her over. kelsey can’t even really pronounce her t’s until she’s three, so for awhile she calls tommy “mommy,” and kiara thinks it’s hilarious. she’s called mama anyway, so it doesn’t really matter to her that her baby calls this semi-random grown man mommy. everytime, it makes tommy want to simultaneously laugh and cry

by the time joel shows up, kelsey is six and not-so-obsessed with tommy anymore. her and kiara still join him and maria for dinner at least once a month, and kelsey has distant memories of calling tommy mommy, then uncle mommy, then finally naming him tim-tam-tommy when she turned four, the nickname for him that still stuck. he thinks about warning joel about her, when they talk in the bar, because he sure as hell could’ve used a goddamn warning—but the conversation goes left, so they never get there.

when joel sees kiara and kelsey for the first time, it’s hits him as hard as it once did tommy

tagging @ameerawrites because i feel like u always indulge in tommy trauma brainrot with me and @clickergossip bc this idea started on tommy day :)

[wings-of-ink]

You

Said

Soggy bottom... 💀

Sooooo you said.. ??? Makes sure there is no soggy bottoms.. 🤔

Interesting... 🧐

Your maturity is unmatched. :p

LOL Sounds like you suffer from...

??? can help you with that.

[damnprecious]

one day I won't accidentally trigger a touch activated faucet and get soaked at work but it is not this day

[pocketclowns]

went home from work early bc i feel like shit, i think i wanna try to decorate my sdv farm a little better so i can take some screenshots to share >:)

[garoujo]

emmie no nemmie ! my lil lemmie 🍋 omg i was looking for manga panels for fic headers n’ i came across dis one that sooo screamed seishimie to mi n’ i had to send it to u . . you distracting him while he’s gaming eheheheh (>∀<*) i hope da two of u are having a magical first of june ! ! tell mi wat u guys like to get up to in da summer months , ‘m supa curious :3c ! ! !

omigosh it’s the best day evaaaa !!! my coco pup is here yayayay today is a good day ໒꒰ ⑅˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶꒱ aaaajahaja the way i’m totes giggling rn !!! it’s soooo seishimie !!! mhm i gotta make his comps a lil bit harder ueueue . . i just like getting to him wen i know he’s tryna up his online ranking ^>o<^ mwah !!! i hope the month of june is ultra kind to u & gepard n haitham mhm . . i am dragging nagi out of the house for some much needed sun ! we’re going on a lil picnic w a bunch of lemon tea & some fruit sandos :3 hes so cute in his lil sun clothes even tho he’s all flushed n warm ! (we are sending out an invite to u ! i wonder who ur gonna bring as ur +1 ueueue) <3333

[keqism]

I’ll never shut up about them

[reyofsunshne]

The Soggy Pockets!

These guys are my favourite band to come out of Naarm/Melbourne, so I thought I would make them some fan posters to give to them all next gig (this Saturday)!

These lads are on instagram @thesoggypockets and my design work can be found by looking my username up literally anywhere.

or you can hire me for your band here

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, fem reader, stealing, he’s weird as fuck, male masturbation, he’s infatuated with you.

*This fic is influenced by You—a great tv show btw. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. I really thought of the weirdest and freakiest shit he could do… Here is part two! He is referred to as “your stalker” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker goes to extreme lengths to feel close to you. Nothing really phases him, and that includes your period blood.

What’s more dangerous than a man madly in love?

He stalked you to a coffee shop. He sat a couple tables away from you, and he ordered a random drink. He never really cared for the overpriced concoctions these baristas made, and he really was here for you. He watched your white straw turn into a different color when you sip on your drink, and he sighed happily as he thought you looked hot with your lips puckered.

Sure enough, every sip was like a punch to your bladder. You got up from your seat and you walked to the restroom.

Was this disgusting? He asked himself as his cheek hit the cold tile floor. He was currently hiding in the women’s bathroom, spying on you as you did your business. And to his elation, you were on your period. He watched as you pulled down your pants, and you sat down onto the toilet, his eyes honing in on the pad that lays on your panties. As you changed your sanitary pad and wrapped up the old one, you pulled your pants back up and walked out of the stall. His eyes following the sight of your shoes and you stopped at the trash can, he hears a faint noise, and then the sound of the water turning on.

When you finally left, he walked out of the stall he was hiding in, and he approached the trash can. He gently pushed the opening, and his arm traveled down inside to look for the pad you threw away. He prayed that all of the wet substances that he was feeling was just soggy paper towels.

He then feels a plastic film, and it was sort of short but thick in width, and he grabbed onto it. He pulled it out and he inspected the orange colored wrapper. He was curious since he didn’t have a uterus, and also didn’t know what it was like to have a period, and he then sniffed it.

It definitely smelled odd… It sort of tingled his senses, the aroma of metallic blood and the natural scent of your body was…. sort of triggering a deep rooted instinct inside him. But that didn’t stop him from stashing it away into his pocket. He quickly put his hood up and he walked out of the restroom.

He had to jog a bit to catch up with you, he saw you sharply turn the corner, and he almost panicked when he couldn’t see you anymore. The last time this had happened, a crowd swarmed him and he hasn’t seen you in months. For five hellish months he had to try to find you again. It certainly wasn’t easy to find someone that didn’t document every single moment of their life on the internet.

A year prior before he started to stalk you in person, he wanted to stalk you online. He was pretty sure everyone stalks their crush on their socials, he remembers seeing your name on the coffee cup you were holding, and he scrolled through endless usernames. He squinted his eyes and he tried to look at the tiny profile pictures.

None of them looked like you.

He couldn’t find your perfect face anywhere! He slammed his fists onto his desk, and his mind was racked with potential username ideas. Maybe you liked flowers? He started to name every single flower he knows, and he typed that with your name. He frowned when the page ended up empty, zero profiles showing up.

He soon found out you had zero social media presence.

He shoves his way through, bumping into seemingly everyone’s shoulder, and after handing out half hearted apologies…he finally saw you enter a store.

He looked up at the sign: “Rated: Adventurous,” it said. There was apparently a huge sale going on… whips and leashes half off… wait what?

He didn’t peg you to be the kinky type, but to be fair he didn’t know much about you. You keep your cards close and have a small knit of friends. He walked into a different aisle from you, trying to look normal by grabbing a random adult toy as he glanced at you. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as you held a ten inch dildo in your hands, jesus. He looked down at his own crotch, his cheeks burning red and he cleared his throat. He put away the leather mask in his hand, and he inched a bit closer to you when you walk to the cashier. He notes that you mostly pay in cash, rarely using your card, and he noticed how you barely look around your surroundings. You didn’t even look his way—even when he was standing right in front of you, you just brushed past him and walked out of the store.

Huh.

He stands a couple of feet behind you as you hailed a cab, he makes sure to take a good look at the driver, and he saw you get in and buckle up. It’s not safe in the city, and even cab drivers had partaken in dangerous and criminal activities. Just last week a driver kidnapped a couple and fled out of the state. If you were to disappear—he knows exactly who to blame.

He quickly ran to his car and he followed after you. Running a couple of red lights doesn’t hurt anybody— maybe his wallet— but it’s worth it if it means protecting you.

He felt like he could finally relax as you made it home safely. He is now sitting in his parked car, idly fiddling with his fingers as you walked up to your front door.

He hoped that when you were pleasuring yourself you were imagining a man like him. Because he thinks of you when his pants are down.

Night has fallen and he’s been parked outside of your house for hours. He liked that it was dark out, because when he stares into your lamp lit apartment- all he could see is you and everything else is blocked out. You’ve always been a little tease, and the outfits you wore were always a bit scantily clad. But even now… it was like you were purposefully trying to trigger a response from him. You were just standing there, your arms crossed, and dressed in just a robe.

Just a tiny peek of your ankles and calves sent chills down his body. His hands started to work to unbuckle his belt, his zipper becomes unzipped, and he pulled out his hardened cock.

He wished you would’ve flashed him right there and then. He wanted a glimpse of your tits, just to see if they sag or if they were perky, and to see if your nipples were pink or brown. He would want to hold them in his hands. He wonders if you are shaven down there, or perhaps you liked to grow a bush. He wonders if your blood continued to flow out of you, dripping down your leg for him to lick and lap up. Would you like that? For him to spread your legs and help soothe your cramps?

He wouldn’t mind to have his fingers turn red, to have his hands and mouth stained of your heavenly essence. He wouldn’t mind if you got frustrated that his fingers couldn’t reach the deepest part of you, and that you wanted him to use his dick to impale you. A little blood never hurt. His eyes rolled back, and the muscles in his arms tightening as they furiously worked hard to jerk him off.

“Shit baby, that feels so good…” He groaned, his back arching as he was teeming for his release. His imagination running wild with the thought of you coming to his car to pleasure him. “I’m close I’m close I’m close—“

He used his other hand to reach into his pocket and he fished out the used pad, his teeth ripping the plastic, and his nose digs into the cotton. He let out a loud moan, your scent bringing him comfort, and his cock twitched as he came all over. His cum dribbling down his shaft, and dripping onto his hand. He sighed, and he cleaned himself up. He kept a box of tissues in the glove box, he wiped himself down and he looked in the mirror. There was a bit of your blood on his nose and chin, his tongue swiping at the area and he savored the taste.

The orgasm was so good that it lulled him to sleep, his soft cock still in his palm, and he snored away.

[meiieiri]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: saw you in a dream, timeless | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse but generally pretty much a fluff fic where toji and y/n meet for the first time. | a/n: finally launching my little love project called “hidden inventory: the lost tapes”! 🍒

Now isn’t this just perfect?

Toji’s is just one inconvenience away from just going back to the Zenin clan with his tail between his legs. First, he underestimates just how expensive living in Tokyo is so, with what little pocket money his emotionally distant mother gave him before he left the estate, the first thing he does is spend it all on a girl — in broad daylight — he’s heard his brother, Jinichi, talk about those cute little call girls that crawl the streets of Kabukichō with flyers in their hand for thirty-minute “massages”. Naturally, as a young man who is only first experiencing the carnal joys the city has to offer, Toji was curious and he took the bait.

A bait that cost him ¥30,000 and the girl was unfortunately sloppy at best.

Now, he doesn’t have money to buy so much as a soggy red bean pancake for dinner. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around this dingy part of Shinjuku but as long as the red light district’s trashy ambience is distracting him from the growling of his stomach, then, he’ll stumble around this hellhole until morning.

“Ha! You won’t even last two minutes out there!” That’s what Naobito Zenin, the head of the clan said to him when he left. “Only two things await you when you get out of here, either you’ll die hungry or a cursed spirit will get to you first — either way, you’ll die with your eyes wide open with no one!”

Overrun by his thoughts, Toji doesn’t even notice that he accidentally intruded on a random cockroach and curse-infested alleyway that apparently belonged to some junkie who is now angrily telling him to get lost. “I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Toji scoffs. Weren’t they both bottom feeders in this city? Why was this rancid-smelling meth addict acting like he’s any better than him?

“Well, go sit somewhere else, this place is off-limits!”

It was almost funny how Toji thought that the world beyond the gates of the Zenin estate was any better than the shit show he was born into.

He should have known better than to be enticed by the glitz and glamour of living independently from his abusive family who at least had the decency to feed him maggoty rice from the estate’s second storehouse dedicated to prepare the animals’ food. They also gave him shelter, of course, he’s had to live in the Zenin estate’s shed for a while now since his father discovered he was born useless without an ounce of cursed energy. But at least he was warm, and the termites made him feel less lonely.

He continues on in his aimless quest. The night is still young. There’s plenty of time for self-depreciating introspection.

Hopefully, that grade three cursed spirit that’s been following him around the block for a while now gets to him first before the rain does.

“That guy over there,” your coworker whispers to you from the cash registers. “He’s been there for a while now and he hasn’t ordered anything.”

You look up from your pocketbook, your eyes curiously trained on the rugged looking man whose eyes were downcast, trained on the service water he requested from the counter when he came in. As if he could feel a pair of eyes on him, he looks up, and glances your way for a bit but you quickly hide your face behind your book.

“He kinda looks like trouble, no? Shady too, just look at the scar on his lip…”

“It’s not fair to judge someone like that, Rika-chan,” you whispered to your junior, turning to arrange the menus, painstakingly wiping each one clean with a cloth dampened with sanitizer. A small smirk appears on Toji’s lips at your passive defense of his character and as if to goad you on, he drums his fingertips against the table daring you to say another word. “Anyway, I’ll handle closing the shop tonight. You need to get home since you have class in a few hours.”

That seemed sudden. Rika looks at you funnily before shrugging off her apron in favor of her raincoat. “Well, alright, if you insist. Should I clean up the kitchen at least?”

“I’ll handle it,” you give her a thumbs up, waving her goodbye as she leaves through the backdoor. Now that you’re alone, you could hardly stop yourself from glancing at the mysterious man, and Toji himself wonders if his presence here is starting to turn into a nuisance. You were probably waiting for him to step out so you could close shop for the night but it’s raining hard right now and there are no other places open nearby to take shelter in.

The chair’s feet screeches against the wooden floorboards and you head to the restaurant’s kitchen. Toji stares at your retreating form, looks like he overstayed his welcome. He searches around for a few coins to give to you for your hospitality, of course, it probably doesn’t mean jack shit, but you must have known he didn’t have enough money for a meal when he came in here. You would have realized that immediately. But you allowed him to stay regardless.

You return a couple of minutes later with a bowl miso soup with ginger pork gyoza and shredded cabbages. You set the bowl down in front of him and Toji is thoroughly taken aback, he looks at you dumbfounded. “I don’t have any money,” his voice comes out a little gruffly but you barely flinch at the sharp edge of his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Refilling his water, you explained that while you could have easily stuffed those leftovers back in the freezer, customers wouldn’t want to eat frozen food, so, you decide to heat these items up to give to him instead. “Oh,” Toji answers a little dumbly. “Or you could have thrown them out.” He stares at the sumptuous meal in front of him. Even in the Zenin estate, he never had such good food laid out in front of him before and it was surreal to see a stranger do the things his family should have done for him.

You return to the counter, leaning on your forearms as you engage in light banter with him. “You’re saying I should feed rats over people?” you chuckled, sitting back down, smiling softly when Toji gingerly bringing the bowl of miso soup to his lips, the rich earthy broth warming his throat that he lets out a content sigh.

He smirks at your little remark. “I’m saying you shouldn’t make a habit of feeding strays.” He polishes his soup bowl clean within minutes and you have to remind him to slow down every now and then as you watched him eat ravenously. “You never know when you could get that dainty hand of yours bitten off.”

You blushed pink at that. He was right, being too generous could cost you dearly one day but being the altruistic soul that you are, you’ll probably continue to be graciously selfless despite the risk of being taken advantage of. It’s just how you are as a person who believes that a little kindness can make the world better than it was yesterday. “I…don’t really know about that…whether I get bitten or not by the people I help isn’t really something I can control. The world would be better off if people just learned to be kind to one another.”

Toji hums at your naive countenance, folding his arms over the table. The room is silent for a few minutes save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t ya?”

“And you’re a pessimist,” you answered, quirking an amused eyebrow at him. “Who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” You stand up to clear out the table, a teasing glint in your eyes as your curious orbs collide.

Toji scoffs, leaning against his seat, crossing his legs. At his reluctance, you shake your head, giggling softly. What an infuriating interesting guy. Toji hears the rushing of tap water from behind the counter and he smiles inwardly. The rain begins to slowly stop and he takes this window of opportunity to leave.

You don’t even try to hide your disappointment when you come back to the dining room only to find it empty, the stranger having left nothing in his wake — not a goodbye, not a thank you, and certainly not his name — except a single rusty five yen coin on the table.

Clang-dong!

“Hello, welcome—“ You stop mid-sentence. Your throat constricting with a mix of emotions, the most dominant one being joy at this happy chance, you’d recognize those sharp dark green eyes anywhere despite only first seeing them a week ago. After all, they looked so dangerously beautiful under the dim light of the dining room’s ceiling lampshade. “—back. Welcome back,” you smiled brightly at Toji.

Toji nods, his hand coming up to cover his lips as he coughs once. “Thanks…ah, right — shit, where is it?” After rummaging around his parachute jacket’s many pockets, he finally takes out his wallet and you look at him, bewildered, when he hands a few hundred yen bills to you. “For last week. Sorry I couldn’t pay you back then.”

“It’s fine.” You take his larger, calloused hand and return the money which Toji responds to by stubbornly placing it on the table.

Toji pinches the bridge of his nose when you playfully return the gesture by rolling it up and placing it in his jacket pocket, buttoning it. “Look, it was real nice of you to treat me back then, but I’m not a charity case, alright? I just wanna pay my dues.”

“Then, a simple ‘thank you’ is enough.” Toji just couldn’t understand you. You have absolutely no reason to be nice to him, but you are. For a moment, he begins to fall into the enticing thought that maybe life outside the Zenin estate won’t be too bad after all if there are people like you still around just waiting at random corners to be found in joyful happenstances such as waiting out a storm at a random family-style restaurant over a heartwarming serving of miso soup with tender pieces of gyoza and cabbage.

Relenting, he smirks at you, unable to figure you out. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, need a table for lunch?” you smiled warmly at him as you lead him to the table he sat in a week ago which you now affectionately refer to as ‘his’ table instead of table number four.

Toji nods following your lead and chuckling when you hand him the menu. “Where’s that thing I had last time?“ he oddly flips through the booklet.

“Oh uh…it’s not on the menu actually, but I could make that for you if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” Toji hands you back the menu. You are just about to scurry away to the kitchen when he calls out to you. “So, do you have a name or should I just keep referring to you as gyoza girl or something?” Embarrassed at the way your knees seem to become weak at his boyish grin, you have to take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him again. “I’m Toji.”

He doesn’t say his last name. He doesn’t feel the need to anymore now that he’s finally closing the door to his past. You nod, noting how the name suited him. It’s brief but strong, muted but loud in its rhythm. Toji. At that moment, you find it impossible to name a prettier sound. After a few excruciating minutes in the kitchen, you come back out with two bowls of miso soup this time around and you sit down on the chair directly in front of him.

“Y/N.”

Toji repeats the melody of your name in his head. “And how much do I owe ya for this, Y/N?”

You shrugged as the two of you dig in, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you chew the steamed gyoza, joining him as he laughs (well, he’s scoffing more than actually laughing, really), his eyes alight with wonder, when you simply say, “Five yen.”

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

[triptuckers]

nothing without you - remy lebeau

Request: nope Pairing:  remy lebeau x reader Summary:  remy loses his beloved cards and you figure something out about him Warnings:  mentions of anxiety, mentions of blood/wounds (nothing big), remy is a lil sad :( Word count: 1.5K A/N: do I know anything about gambit or his lore? no. I do know I went to see deadpool & wolverine again and now I need him to call me chéri. enjoy!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you knew remy loved his cards. after a while you'd lost track trying to count them. in every pocket of every piece of clothing he owned, you'd find a deck of cards. it was an entire chore to empty all of his pockets before doing laundry. and still some of them would end up in the washing machine, and they'd come out all soggy and messed up.

if he would round them all up, you're sure he'd be able to fill an entire storage box. he always had at least one pack of cards on him.

but there was always that one favorite pack of cards. the one he took with him on missions, the one he always had on him "just in case".

and now it's missing.

ever since he found out he lost it, remy has been heartbroken.

you helped him search for it, turning the whole place upside down. remy was the first to give up the search. he told you he'd accepted the fact he lost them, but you knew he was just too sad to have lost them to keep on searching.

his powers didn't have anything to do with that specific deck of cards, they were simply his favorite. he'd had them since he was a kid, learned all of his skills with them. of course they were special to him.

you tried to cheer him up by getting him a new deck and talking about his other decks, but nothing seemed to help.

you'd noticed he'd grown more restless since losing the cards.

from the moment you met him, you had only ever seen him with a deck of cards in his hand. safe for the moments where he was doing something that required both of his hands. but his fingers were never far from the cards.

now that he's lost them, he's constantly holding on to other things. you'd never really considered remy to be a very anxious person, but he's fidgeting constantly now.

if you're sitting next to him he's playing with your fingers or the hem of your shirt. he's tapping patterns that make no sense to you on your thigh. he'd repeatedly tap his own fingertips against each other.

right now, he's sitting on the couch after getting back from a mission. he got a nasty cut on his forehead but otherwise he was fine. you just got back from fetching the first aid kit from the kitchen when you see him staring off into space while rapidly tapping his fingers on his leg.

'hey.' you say, sitting on the salon table in front of him.

he blinks a few times before his eyes settle on yours.

'you okay?' you ask.

remy nods, but you can tell something's bothering him. you decide to let it rest until after you take care of him. it can wait.

you scoot closer to him, opening the first aid kid.

'I'll need to clean it first, before I can bandage it.' you say softly. 'it might sting a little.'

'it's okay, chéri.' he says.

you carefully put some rubbing alcohol on a cotton wad and lean in. as you gently press it on his forehead, remy sucks in a breath and closes his eyes.

'sorry.' you say, as you start to slowly wipe the cotton wad over the wound to get rid of the dirt and blood.

you feel something on your leg and when you briefly glance down, you see remy is fidgeting with a loose thread of your pants. they were really his, but you stole them so long ago they're basically yours now. you always had to roll them up a couple of times before you could wear them, otherwise they were too long.

as you get out a fresh cotton wad, you notice remy still has his eyes closed. he really hasn't been the same since he lost his favorite deck of cards, and you're worried about him.

'remy?' you say.

he hums in response as you lean in to finish cleaning the wound on his forehead. you put the bloody cotton wad on the ground next to you so you can throw it away later.

'talk to me. what's going on?' you say.

'I didn't look where I was going, the knife barely missed me but it nicked me. I should-'

'I'm not talking about today's mission, love.'

remy opens his eyes and looks at you with a slight frown on his face. you give him a soft smile.

'you've been... different. and it's okay, I just want to know how I can help you. you haven't been yourself since you lost your favorite cards.'

he closes his eyes again and leans into your touch as you bandage his forehead. his fingers are still playing with your pants.

'they keep my mind off of things.' he says eventually.

'the cards?' you say.

remy nods. 'I've got something to do with my hands. I can think about the cards. not about... other stuff.'

'all done, my love.' you say, when you finish bandaging him up. you press a soft kiss to the bandage and look down to find remy looking up at you.

'thank you, mon amour.'

'you're welcome.'

you get up to put the first aid kit away and throw the trash out. then you get back to join remy on the couch.

his fingers immediately take a hold of yours as he starts to play around with them.

'you know, I never figured you for a very anxious person.' you say.

'I'm not.'

'baby, you can't keep your finger still. and when you're doing something with both of your hands, your leg is always bouncing up and down.'

remy frowns. 'I do that?'

'it's usually something people do subconsciously. then again, being the gambit is a pretty stressful job.'

'I guess.'

you turn to look at remy. 'you really miss your cards, huh?'

'chéri, you have no idea.' sighs remy.

'I'm sorry we didn't find them.' you say.

'it's not your fault.' says remy, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. he knows it's not anyone's fault but his own. he probably lost them somewhere outside, because they did search the entire house. every cabinet and under every piece of furniture.

'how about we watch a movie? try to get your mind off of it for at least an hour or two?' you suggest.

'sure, alright.' says remy.

'you pick the movie, I'll get the snacks.' you say, getting up to go to the kitchen.

you get out a bowl and half a bag of popcorn. you dump it in the bowl and stuff the empty package in the trash, which is nearly overflowing. knowing it'll only annoy you in the morning, you let out a sigh as you take it out.

after taking it out of the bin - which took more effort than you would have liked - you close it and take it out the backdoor. just as you throw it in the larger bin outside, something purple catches your eye.

you walk over to where it is sticking out from under the bin. as you drag the bin away so you can take a closer look, you see a familiar rectangular box.

remy's beloved cards. his very favorite deck.

you quickly snatch it up and head back inside.

when you get back to the living room you see remy has picked one of your favorite movies.

'hey.' he says, glancing over his shoulder at you. 'no snacks?'

'I've got something better.' you say.

remy looks over his shoulder again and his eyes land on your bright smile, then drop to your hands.

'tada!' you say. 'found them outside under the bin! I knew we didn't lose them and they had to be around somewhere so I-'

you're cut off when remy grabs your face and kisses you. you hadn't even noticed him getting up and walking to you in two quick and long strides.

'mon amour, you're the best!' he says, smiling at you. he kisses you again and you can feel he's still smiling.

he pulls back and takes the deck of cards you're holding up for him. instantly, he takes them out of the case and twirls them around, throwing them in the air and catching them again.

you watch as his face lights up. you're so glad he's got his favorite cards and he looks like your remy again. you watch him for a while, following the cards with your eyes.

eventually, he puts them away and pulls you against his chest, making you laugh as he hugs you tight.

'oh, what would I do without you?' he says as he pulls back slightly so he can look at you.

'well you'd have to find someone new to fix you up after a fight. and to find your cards. and take care of-'

'alright, alright, I get it, I'm nothing without you.'

'and don't you forget it.'

'I won't, chéri, I promise you I never will.'

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[milkloafy]

HYDRO DRAGON, HYDRO DRAGON, DON’T CRY — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: in which wriothesley finally asks you out on a first date and neuvillette ruins it by crying over his pet goldfish. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, “ruined” first dates, hydro dragon is crying :c, mentions of sick pet fish trigger warning, gn!reader but they are wearing a sundress and makeup!!  ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.3k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: so on vacation i was out for a nice dinner in a dress and heels and then on the way back to the hotel, it started to storm. and it was windy so no umbrellas helped. and no cars there, only walking. and the roads were flooded so my feet were submerged in like dirt puddles and i was tripping over rocks i couldn’t see in high heels hahaah i was going thru it… but at least it spawned this idea ;-; pls enjoy !! also give neuvi a hug for me ok and me too we both need it t-t

Fontaine was a peculiar place to live in.

Most regions in Teyvat succumbed to the whims of the archons and elemental dragons, but in your experience, none were quite as inconvenient as the region of the hydro dragon.

The Iudex was a sensible and level-headed individual, but he had his moments like everyone else. But unlike everyone else, his sad moments impacted the whole area of Fontaine. 

Unluckily for you, one of Neuvillette’s sad moments happened to be when you were running late for your first date with Wriothesley. 

Wriothesley had messaged you saying he was at the restaurant already, and you were running down the streets of Fontaine to make sure you were too late for the reservation. It wasn’t your intention to be late, but the pressure of a first date set your nerves aflame and you ended up trying on your entire closet until you found the perfect outfit. You didn’t even want to think of the mess that awaited you when you returned home. 

Still, the hassle was worth it. In your eyes, at least. Your hair was styled to perfection, makeup touched up to look effortlessly pretty even though you spent over an hour on it, and the sundress you wore hugged your body in a way that showed your curves yet left the gaze wanting more. 

You were certain that once Wriothesley saw you, he definitely wouldn’t mind that you were a couple minutes late. 

As you turned the corner and saw the restaurant at the end of the street, you immediately perked up, tucking your hair behind your ear and preparing yourself for this date. You skipped on over to the store, but within a few steps of the way, the clouds turned an alarming shade of gray and an immediate downpour began. 

The water droplets were huge, leaving stains of tears on the pavement. The rain was indiscriminate, landing on both the buildings on the street, and the individuals walking around there. 

You blinked as you felt particularly large droplets land on your face, instantly knowing the makeup you worked so hard on would begin to wash off and smear in the rain. The water landed on your hair ruined how each strand was placed to perfection and your dress looked soggy and almost translucent. 

As if possessed, you sprinted to the restaurant and entered to take cover from the showers outside. The restaurant was dimly lit with chandeliers and candles on the tables, the tablecloths adorned with a vase of fresh flowers and empty wine glasses at the ready.

In other words, the place was much too fancy for your current state. 

Your eyes landed on Wriothesley, who immediately jumped out of his seat at the sight of you. He rushed over with a concerned look on his face, promptly removing his outerwear and draping it over your shoulders without second thought.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said meekly, feeling a shiver run down your spine as a cold breeze made its way into the restaurant. 

He shook his head, brushing your cold hair out of your face and grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket. “That’s the least of our concerns right now. Are you okay? It seems you are completely drenched.”

“I’m okay,” you sniffled, accepting his handkerchief and dabbing the water droplets off your face and neck. “It was just nice and sunny one minute, then gloomy and pouring the next.” 

A look of understanding crossed Wriothesley’s face as a dry chuckle escaped him. “The Iudex’s work, most likely.”

You nodded in agreement. “First, he encourages me to go on a date with you, then when it finally happens, he cries and ruins it all.” You sighed, but after a moment’s thought said, “I hope Neuvillette is alright. The rain seemed really bad with no build up or warning… I hate to use devices during a date, but is it okay if I message him to check in?” 

“Of course,” said Wriothesley, waving off any concerns you might have. As you got your communication device out from your purse, he placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you to the table. 

Y/N: neuvillette… why are you crying??? 

Y/N: is everything okay?

Neuvillette: Frederick wasn’t eating and seems to be floating up instead of swimming.

Neuvillette: I am concerned. 

Y/N: oh no!! :((( not your goldfish… do you want to ask sigewinne if she can help disgnose and cure him??

Neuvillette: I do, but I am too worried about leaving Frederick alone right now. 

Y/N: hmm…

Y/N: i’m supposed to be on a date with wriothesley right now :’( but i don’t want frederick to grow ill. 

Y/N: i’ll ask wriothesley to take me to the fortress of meropide and inform sigewinne!!

Neuvillette: During your date? You should be enjoying each other’s company. Frederick and I will be fine. 

Just then, you heard the downpour from outside grow even louder. You sighed, looking at Wriothesley apologetically. To his credit, he seemed to have the patience of a saint as he simply smiled encouragingly at you. 

Y/N: i’m sure neither wriothesley nor i could enjoy a date knowing our friend is in this much distress.

Y/N: we will go. don’t worry, neuvillette 

Neuvillette: I am sorry for the intrusion, but thank you. I appreciate it. As does Frederick. 

Clutching the handkerchief in your hands, you looked up at Wriothesley with concern etched on your face. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked. 

“No,” you shook your head. “Neuvillette is worried about his goldfish, Frederick, being sick.”

Wriothesley frowned, his brows crinkling. “That is terrible.”

“I know! So, I may have offered that we go to Sigewinne and ask if she can help Frederick somehow,” you said sheepishly. “I know this isn’t how I expected our first date to be, but it seems urgent. I promise, I’ll make it up to you!” 

Standing up from his seat, he patted the top of your wet hair and shook his head. “Helping friends is important. Neither of us could have known Frederick would have complications right now— There is nothing you need to make up.” 

You nodded, but a guilty look still flooded your face. It wasn’t enough for you to be late to your first date with Wriothesley. Instead, you also showed up looking like a hot mess, and immediately cancelled the date within five minutes of being there. Fiddling with the buttons on the coat Wriothesley gave you, worry gnawed at your stomach. You were looking forward to going on a date with your long-time crush, and you would be devastated if this ruined all your chances. 

As if sensing your concerns, Wriothesley smiled and offered you his hand. Startled you looked up at him, slowly sliding yours into his. It was warm and dry, a stark contrast to your cold and damp ones. The heat enveloped you and you immediately felt your worries melting away. 

“I, for one, find it incredibly selfless of you to offer to help Neuvillette like this,” he said in admiration. “Your looks are not only beautiful, but your heart as well. So please, do not feel guilty at the change of plans. Let’s make the most of it. We can always have a fancy dinner date another night.” 

Your eyes widened, cheeks flushed at his compliments. “So, you’re saying I have a chance at another date?” 

Wriothesley chuckled, brushing the pad of his thumb across your knuckles. “It’s a guarantee, if you’ll have me, that is.”

“I’ll have you for as long as you’re offering!” you said in excitement, too happy to pay attention to the bashfulness creeping in at your words. 

“For you, I’ll always be offering,” said Wriothesley with a smile as he led you out of the restaurant and apologizing to the staff for the sudden cancellation. “Now, let’s go save Frederick.”

“Let’s do it!”