#then it just needs to bring the soul back!

[luvsupa]

#HOW TO TAME YOUR BRAT: 101?!

featuring: gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

summary: jjk men brat taming you after pushing them to their limits, mdni

w.c: 3.3k

+ill fix any errors tmr 🙂‍↕️

☆SATORU GOJO

— cw: gojo x fem reader, office au, missionary, squirting, degrading, etc.

running your own business has its perks and its downfalls, but right now? this is the worst. your business partner, gojo satoru, drives you absolutely insane. he shows up late to every meeting—hell, he didn’t even bother to show up at all this week!

you’re now standing next to him in the elevator, arms crossed tightly under your chest, trying to ignore the headache his obnoxious presence gives you. gojo leans casually against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets, rambling on about his latest wild night, his words muffled by the cherry favoured lollipop lazily hanging from his glossy lips, leaving a red stain that only adds to your irritation.

“c’monnn, you’re seriously mad at me?” he whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, your black heels tapping impatiently against the elevator floor as it crawls toward your floor.

“seriously? we lost that business deal because you can’t stop chasing after new girls every night.” you grit your teeth, glaring at him as he swirls the candy around before popping it out with a little pop!

“what, are you jealous that i’m getting laid and you’re not?” he smirks, clearly reveling in the thought.

“fuck you, gojo.”

your last words before you truly regret putting yourself in this predicament. you reaalllyy struck a nerve as he slammed you on your back on top of his desk- crowded with important documents that he did not care about. the slutty position he had you in was filthy, your knees pressed up to your chest. your black pencil skirt now bunched to your waist as your panties were thrown somewhere onto the desk, showing how impatient he was. gojo jackhammers his thick cock into your sopping cunt as the decorations on the desk began to slip off the desk— some even breaking due to the impact, but he did not care. lewd squelches ring in your ears as you’re moaning uncontrollably. his pace is beyond brutal your breasts jiggle by each thrust. 

“are you gonna be a good girl and watch that dirty mouth?” he says through panting breaths as one of his hands move to your clit, rudely pinching your sensitive nub between his fingers as you sob loudly. your eyes flutter open as you make eye contact with him, trying your hardest to speak as he darkly chuckles.

“awh, poor baby can’t speak— that’s okay, she’s doing allll the talking, right?” he says, referring to your pussy as loud sloshes of your cunt cry louder with each thrust. 

“f-fuck you- hahh,” you manage to speak out as his eyes darken. his thrusts come to a stop as he moves his hand from your cunt to grab something on the desk. your panties. he scrunches your damp panties into his hand as he shoves it into your mouth- nearly choking on the fabric.

“thaats much better,” he says as he picks up his rhythm once again. but this time- this time you fucked up. his hips snapping at an animalistic pace as your body aches at being folded in half. he’s showing you no mercy. your moans muffled by the cotton fabric in your mouth as tears races down the sides of your cheeks. you cunt clenching around his length as he lets out a low groan. 

gojo bites his lower lip hard as he feels his cock twitching- his balls tightening as your pussy sucks the soul out of him. “gahh- f-fuck, sloppy fuckin’ pussy.” he moans as his hips stutter. your eyes crossed as he brings his hand to your cunt once again, as he draws rough circles on your nub. he can tell you’re close just by the way you’re-

oh.

your body feels limp as you unexpectedly come undone. you see white splotches in your vision as your ears slightly ring. gojo looks down at your fucked expression as he admires the mess you’ve made. your juices everywhere, all over his suit, his desk- fuck you’ve soaked the business contacts that you two needed.

“w-what, mmf,” you moan when you feel gojo slip out of your gaping cunt- thick globs of cum seeping out your hole, creating a puddle of your mess on his desk.

“mmm, you squirted- that was fuckin’ hoottt,” he says while admiring how much cum your pussy can take before it spills out. he slaps his cock onto your swollen cunt as you whine at the sensitivity. your legs aching at having them up against your chest- but just before you can rest them down, gojo pulls something out of his pocket. another lollipop. seriously. 

he unravels the new flavour, strawberry lemonade, as he brings it into his mouth. humming in content at the sweet flavour. he looks down at your cunt filled with your mixed juices. gojo brings the fresh candy out of his mouth as he smirks, bringing the candied stick to your cunt, smothering the sticky candy in your sweet cum. you bite your lip as you watch the entire scene unfold as you gasp loudly once he plunged the pink lollipop into your pussy, twirling the stick as he slowly thrusts the candy in your hole. collecting your gooey cum along the lollipop as he pulls it out with a slight pop! before sticking it back into his mouth- this time moaning at your honeyed essence.

☆SUGURU GETO

— cw: fwb!geto x fem reader, blow job, riding, etc.

sugu: come outside, baby.

you: nah.

you toss your phone onto your bed after sending the text. you shouldn’t feel this way—after all, you’re not even together! just before his message, you saw geto posing with a girl who clearly had her eyes on him. it infuriated you, but you both had agreed on being friends with benefits.

your phone chimes again, geto clearly unhappy with your response.

sugu: ???

rolling your eyes, you glance out your bedroom window and spot his matte black sports car parked in front of your apartment complex. your heart sinks a little when you realize no one is in the car. that means—

shit.

you forgot you gave him your spare key. you rush to the living room to lock the extra locks on the door, but you stop dead in your tracks. there’s geto, standing in the middle of your living room. damn, he looks good—his messy long hair falls over his back as he digs his hands into his black sweats, swaying slightly as he waits for an explanation.

“gimme a kiss, baby,” he rasps. you cross your arms, your silk black pajama dress accentuating your figure, and he bites his lip, eyes roaming over you. you don’t move closer, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“what’s got you upset now, hmm?” he steps toward you, closing the gap, shamelessly staring.

“i don’t know, maybe you should ask your other girl for a kiss,” you reply coldly, looking away. he laughs genuinely at your response.

“heh, don’t worry, i only want you,” he reassures, reaching out to caress your face. but you stubbornly swat his hand away, surprising him.

“go call her when you want your dick sucked, pussy,” you mutter under your breath, loud enough for him to hear as you turn your back and storm toward your room, anger simmering beneath the surface.

geto’s eyes widen, his jaw tightening as your words hit him like a slap to the face. the silence behind you feels charged, the tension growing.

you barely make it halfway into your room before your mouth runs ahead of your mind. “if your dick was even big enough to suck,” you mutter quietly to yourself. but he heard. 

that’s it. you can feel the heat of his stare burning into your back, the shift in his energy unmistakable. before you can take another step, his voice cuts through the air, low and deadly. “what did you just say?”

your loud mouth is what ended you up here, knees digging into the carpet- almost burning- of your living room in between getos thighs. your jaw aching as you attempt to take in all of his inches- hell you’re barely half way! and fuck, he was so big and so girthy it hurt. geto fucks your face hard as both of his hands grip the sides of your hair- bobbing your head roughly as you loudly gag on his cock. his tip hitting the back of your throat as his hips snap up. drool slips past your mouth as your chin is covered in saliva and cum as you’re in tears- mascara running down your face, your eyes roll to the back of your head as your cunt clenches around nothing.

“say that shit again baby- my dicks what?” he taunts as he pulls your head away from his cock, causing you to choke up a cough as you’re trying your hardest to breathe properly. geto grows impatient at your silence as he grabs the base of his cock as he slaps your cheeks to regain your consciousness.

“don’t tell me you’ve given upp,“ he trails as he drags his leaky tip across your swollen lips- painting your lips as a shiny gloss.

“lil’ dick,” you spat out, giving him a weak smile as geto stares into your eyes. you’ve got the fuckin’ nerve, he thinks.

geto grabs the back of your head, shoving his shaft back into your mouth- this time he pushes your head to the base, your eyes widening as you’re nearly choking on his cock. your nose brushes along his neatly trimmed pubic hair as you swear you felt him in your chest. you’re hallowing your cheeks as the room fills with pornographic squelches from your mouth as you can’t believe you’re making these sounds.

you slowly snake your hand under your dress, parting your folds as you rub your clit as you moan around his cock. geto groans loudly at the vibration. he notices you touching your pussy as he roughly pulls you away, a string of saliva connected from his tip to your swollen lips as you choke up a cough. geto suddenly lifts you off the ground as he pulls you into his lap, staring up at your fucked out expression.

“since you wanna be in charge, ride me.” he demands as he aligns his tip to your drooling hole. but before you could go at your own pace, geto tuts in annoyance and slams your hips down onto his- earning a loud sob from you. he’s practically moulding himself in your gummy walls each time you two fuck. your cunt squeezes his shaft tightly as he moans, throwing his head back on the couch as you slowly pace yourself on his dick.

“‘so b-big sugu’— i f-feel you-“ you could barely finish your sentence without whimpering as one of your hands glide against your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock ramming himself in you as your breasts bounce in his face. fuck, he’s so inlove with you.

“yeaa I bet you feel me rightttt here, pretty”

☆TOJI FUSHIGURO

— cw: yakuza boss!toji x bimbo!reader, voyeurism, tojis being very patient but he’s mean.

“toj’, i wanna leave,” you whine, tugging at his long-sleeve button-up, the top three buttons casually undone. he’s trying to focus on the meeting, surrounded by men who practically tremble at his presence. you huff in annoyance, crossing your arms and eyeing the other gang members, wishing he hadn’t dragged you into this boring affair that has nothing to do with you.

he promised it would only take thirty minutes of your life, and then he’d take you on a shopping spree for your favorite purse. your acrylic nails tap impatiently on your phone as you check the mall hours—oh my goodness, it’s closed. your eyes widen, rage bubbling up inside you.

“toji, you lied! the mall’s closed and i’m stuck in this boring-ass meeting!” you whisper loudly, glancing at the other gang members as they discuss business that feels miles away from your world. not even a glance from him; his eyes remain glued to the conversation. muttering under your breath, you call him a “useless bitch” and return to your phone, pouting once more.

but your frustration catches his attention. without you realizing it, toji shifts his focus to you—not just because of your outburst, but because of the sly comment you let slip. one hand rests on the back of your head as you look up at him, your eyes sparkling with hope for some acknowledgment. that hope quickly fades when you see the look in his eyes.

“wanna repeat that for me, pretty?” he asks, his voice low. your heart races as he gently pets the back of your head, and suddenly, all the gang members and bodyguards are looking your way.

“the mall’s closed,” you whisper, feeling small under their gaze. he chuckles, knowing you’re not as clueless as your bimbo outfit suggests.

“mmm, you think i’m a liar and a useless bitch, huh?” he scoffs, and you frown, realizing how impatient you’ve been.

“well, you are! you promised we were going shopping, but you’re prioritizing this shitty meeting!” with that, he simply nods, slipping his hand from your head and turning back to the men at the table.

“this—this is what happens when y’er pet never fuckin’ listens,” he announces to everyone, suddenly pulling you into his lap, making you yelp at his speed.

“’m not your pet—”

and with that toji had your pussy on display for everyone to see- to witness how your bratty mouth causes you to be punished when things don’t go your way. your mini skirt now thrown across the room as toji had you prettily on his lap- your back to his large chest- as he bucks his hips up from the squeaky chair, your pussy sobbing with loud and lewd squelches as your feet were up in the air- pretty platform heels on display- kept up nice and wide by his beefy arms as he commanded everyone to watch. your head rests on his shoulder as you tongue lolls out. he’s already fucked you dumb.

your moans bounce off the room as toji rams his cock into your cunt- kissing your cervix as you tighten around him. the chair squeaking with each thrust— your gummy walls nearly suffocating him. all the eyes on you make you squirm on tojis lap as you attempted to close your legs- but not as fast as he spreads your legs wider as you babble incoherent apologies. 

“‘s too much toj’— you’re being ‘s mean,” you cry out as your cunt spasms around his thick cock. he grins as he finds this ironic— insulting him and you think this is too much. pathetic.

“mean? ‘m being mean? alright mama,” he darkly says as he rises from the chair, many pairs of eyes watching your every move as he bends you over the meeting table as it slightly shakes at the force- causing you gasp at the impact of the hard wooden table as you catch a glimpse of some of the men palming themselves to you.

tojis hands grip the flesh of your hips as his unrelenting tempo quickens as you sob out. your knees nearly give out as he hoists you up, chuckling at how much you’re struggling to take him. tojis merciless pounding cause you to crawl forward— you can’t take it anymore that he slams his cock deeper into your cunt as tears spill from your eyes, your makeup now ruined and smudged.

“going somewhere, doll?”

☆SUKUNA RYOMEN

— cw: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, jealous sukuna, monster fucking (i think), full nelson, etc.

“‘kuna?” you call out in his dark chambers, a chill creeping through the air. he already knew you were coming. stepping inside, you see dimly lit torches flickering against the cold, ancient stone, illuminating his crafted throne where he sits, a vision of beauty in his white kimono.

“‘kuna, what’s wrong?” you ask, feigning concern as his unsettling presence fills the room. his gaze is fixed elsewhere, and the two guards at his side look at you with barely concealed anger. you saunter closer, your heels echoing against the concrete floor as you ascend the steps to stand before him.

he’s mad. he barely acknowledges you, confusion swirling in your mind as you try to understand his sudden shift in demeanor.

“have I done something to upset you?” your voice drops, scanning his face for any sign of distress.

“what have you not done?” his low voice echoes ominously through the chambers, sending a shiver down your spine. you step back, taken aback by his tone, racking your brain for anything that might have provoked him.

“please, explain,” you plead, taking one of his massive hands in yours, feeling the heat radiate from him. all four of his crimson eyes fixate on you, piercing through the tension.

“I saw you too close to that scum,” he grits out, his expression darkening. your brows furrow as you think of who he’s referring to.

oh.

the guard.

you giggle, brushing it off as you reassure him you were just doing your duties around the estate, completely ignoring his darkening aura.

“if you really want that lowlife, then go,” he snaps, his eyes beginning to glow, a clear sign of his fury. your heart races, offended by his comment as he pushes your hand away. “leave,” he commands, and your heart sinks—what have you done to deserve this?

you nod, turning to walk away, but just before you can exit, you catch his attention. his ears perk up, listening intently as you toss out your final words.

“maybe I will fuck him—let us know if you’re willing to watch.”

with that, sukuna rises from his throne, a terrifying presence. you’ve truly provoked the king of curses.

shit.

“you think this is funny, woman,” sukuna growls in your ear as a pair of his hands drew you close, wrapping his arms securely around you, pinning your arms behind your head as your legs are dangling in the air- locking you in place. the warmth of his body envelop you as your back is tightly pressed against his broad chest. his thrusts are inhumane as your whole body bounces with every thrust as he has you on full display for anyone to walk in his chambers.

your poor cunt sobbing out loud cries as you’ve barely took him in whole. you rest your head on his shoulder as you’re panting loudly, pleading for him to slow down but it quickens his pace. his lower cock hitting your sensitive cunt as sukuna chuckles- enjoying your sobs- as sick as he is, it’s an encouragement. his other pair of hands play with your swollen clit with a playful smack! and your fondling with your sore breasts as he takes your nipples in between his fingers, pulling and pinching as it gives a new wave of pleasure that has you curling your toes in the air. 

“how many times do ya’ run that mouth, huh? is there anything up there?” he laughs in your ear as you whine, everything’s too much for you that all you could do is nod. 

“yeaaa there nothing there, my little fuck toy,” he rasps as your walls spasm around the delicious girth- his cock filling you up to the brim

“do you think this sloppy pussy craves that guard hmm? is she as nasty as you are?” he taunts as he slaps your cunt twice. you sob loudly as more tears spill from your eyes— your cunt tightening around his length as his brow quirks up.

“you fuckin’ slut—“ he growls as he’s now speaking to your pussy as a mouth forms on his hand as he hovers it against your cunt— his tongue sucking on your clit as you start babbling nonsense. the combination of his thrusts and new stimulations send electricity through your body as you feel your orgasm approaching fast. sukuna removes his hand aww from your cunt as rough pace does not stop. sukuna grabs the base of his lower cock- parting your slick folds as a sinful thought comes to mind. he darkly chuckles behind you as his thrusts come to a brief stop- giving you time to take a breather as he still remains himself deep in your pussy.

“let’s test and see if she can handle another one, hmm?”

[hikato-chan]

An AU where SY actually was SJ is so interesting, especially with it's implications about the system!

So the villain of the story the system is trying to fix dies. That's not it's fault! Likely, that was a butterfly effect from having dragged the writer into Shang Qinghua's body. No one could have expected this! They barely even talk!

But it happens- and the System tries it's best to fix it. It manages to keep the body alive, but the soul slipped away. That's fine, it's fine! The System just has to find it before it... Nope, it got reincarnated already. Damn. But, it will be fine. It can manage!

It keeps the body asleep and goes to find just where the soul ended up. It will be able to return back with no time passed, it's sure! And it does find the soul. In a sickly boy who is constantly reading.

That's... Not so great. Because the System will have to catch the soul before it reincarnates again, and this boy barely even knows how to run! But it's fine, the System can work with this. It just needs to figure out how to get the theoretical knowledge to him. The rest it can figure out once he's back where he should be.

So, what better way than to let the soul read the story? That would surely be helpful for more than one reason! But the story doesn't exist yet. But that's fine. It knows the Author! Just a nudge or two so he starts writing, and just a nudge or two so the Soul starts reading! It works great!

So it waits, and the story goes on and on before coming to a close. That's as much knowledge as that soul can have, it supposed. Now it just needs to go and retrieve it.

[yelenasdiary]

Hey, i'm the same one with the idea.

So i was thinking, the Marvel universe.

Wanda had the boys, but they are Vision's kids. Yn is their bestfriend(Wanda and Nat) and played like cupid, you know, they were a couple thanks to her.

So well, I was thinking something about being reincarnated, i don't truly believe in it but in a history i like that type of things.

Wanda was pregnant again, with a baby girl, and in the time Wanda was suppose to gave birth, Yn was in a mission but it went wrong, she got shot and even if they try to "fix" everything, they couldn't and she died.

In the moment, the doctors were trying to do their things, Wanda has the labor contractions and finally gave birth.

So the thing is, the "soul" of Yn went to the baby, or something like that.(I don't know how to say those things, i try my best to write in english hahaha)

And Wanda and Nat found about it and named the baby after Yn.

While the little Yn was growing up, they saw how many things she did in the same way as Yn, and of course they talked about her with the little one.

And basically, you can change everything you want and need to write the story, if you want to write it, of course. Thank you. Have a good day, or night.

Watching Over You

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem! Avenger! Reader (Platonic), Mentions of Wanda x Vision. 

Summary: Somethings in this world are unexplainable but what if that one thing helped bring two people together to start a new life

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Character Death, Mentions of guns, and Child Birth | 1.5K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: I love this idea, it’s something different! I hope you enjoy this, I do apologise if this isn’t as exciting as you hoped. Thank you for sending it! x 

The blue sky started to look dim, your body turning cold as Clint and Steve rushed you to the quinjet. Steve carrying you bridal style while Clint cleared the path, the soldier laid you down on one of the uncomfortable beds and strapped you down tightly. “It’ll be okay! We’ll get you home” you heard Steve’s faint voice before things went black. Clint wasting no time starting up the jet to rush you home to medical. 

Meanwhile, your best friends were preparing for the next chapter in their lives. You could say you were cupid in Wanda and Natasha’s love story. After Wanda and Vision got divorced, Wanda struggled to get out of the loveless slump she was in. You did everything you could think of to help her get over Vision, but it was hard when her two eldest children were fathered by him. But with some time and patience, Wanda opened herself up to dating again. Did she expect her next marriage to be with a woman? No, but she was so thankful that you helped her see just how much Natasha loved and cared for the mother of two. 

It wasn’t exactly easy for Nat either. Her feelings for Wanda started well before the brunette got divorced and watching Wanda have a little family with somebody else pushed Natasha’s hopes for a family of her own further and further to the back of her mind. But now? Now Natasha and Wanda were hours away from welcoming their first child together. 

Without you and setting up a cheeky few blind dates and listening for hours on end to your friends feelings for one another, you weren’t sure what the two would be doing now. But it’s been 2 years since they got married and a lot of happy tears on the way. 

“Something isn’t right!” Wanda said in a panic, “Nat, something isn’t right, I can feel it!” She added, rubbing her hand over her swollen stomach. Wanda’s water broke a couple of hours ago, but she wasn’t dilated enough to be taken to the delivery room. Natasha comforted her wife by taking her hand, “have some ice chips detka, everything is okay, I promise” she replied before offering Wanda a cup of ice chips. Wanda saw that Natasha didn’t quite understand her wife’s worries, she slowly shook her head, “it’s not the baby, something just doesn’t feel right” Wanda said, her eyes building with tears. 

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” Natasha asked. Wanda shook her head, “please don’t leave me” Wanda replied, looking up at Natasha. Although Wanda’s current state of mind was confusing Nat a little, she sat down beside Wanda’s bed and quickly changed the topic to keep her wife distracted. 

“So, do you think is going to get jealous first? Tommy or Billy?” She joked, causing Wanda to playful slap her hand away from her. 

----

What seemed like forever had passed, Wanda was only seconds away from giving birth. Natasha by her side holding her hand has her wife almost broke her knuckles in pain and while the delivery room was full of excitement and happiness, another room was full of the exact opposite. 

Tony, Steve, Clint, Maria, Thor, Bucky and Pepper sat around the large table in one of the many conference rooms. Nothing but silence was shared, tissues in the center of the table that mainly Maria and Pepper reached for, the guys looking at one another, all wondering how to process the news. 

“We have to tell them” Steve broke the silence. 

“Last update I had was Wanda was taken into the delivery room. Nat said she’d keep me posted but I don’t think we tell them yet” Clint replied. 

“We can’t not tell them; they’re going to know. Especially Wanda” Maria chipped in, whipping her tears on a tissue. 

“How about we just deal with it when need too, right now, we should probably go to the hospital and be there for them” Pepper suggested, “nothing we do is going to change anything” she added. Tony nodded in agreement, “if anything, we tell Nat first. We shouldn’t tell Wanda right now” he inserted. 

The small team came to an agreement, it wasn’t easy, and they wished things were different, that they would have better news but the best thing they could all do right now was to be there for each other. 

Steve knocked softly on Wanda’s door in the hospital before slowly opening it, everybody had a soft smile on their faces and even through the news they had to keep to themselves for now, the excitement of meeting a new little family member helped make things feel a little better. 

“Hey guys!” Wanda smiled softly at her extended family. Natasha was gently rocking their new-born daughter in her arms as the others entered the room. Clint stepped close to Natasha, looking down at his friend’s little baby. “She’s beautiful” he whispered softly.  

“Do you want to hold her?” Nat offered with a sense of proudness in her voice, Clint nodded, “I’d love too” he added. 

“Hey, where’s Y/n?” Wanda asked, looking at everybody. Thor’s eyes dropped immediately to his feet which only made Wanda tilt her head slightly to the side, “Nat, uh, there’s something I need to run by you, do you mind if we step outside for a moment?” Steve quickly said before Wanda could question anything. Wanda watched as Steve and Natasha left the room, the others quickly turning the attention back to the baby in Clint’s arms. 

“Does she have a name yet?” Maria asked. 

“We have a couple of ideas, but nothing seems to feel right at the moment” Wanda said, smiling tiredly at her. 

“Steve, what is it?” Natasha asked, a sparkle in her eye that Steve hated to break. “We thought it would be best to tell you first” he started. 

“Tell me what?” Natasha frowned slightly, trying to read Steve for an answer. 

“Y/n is gone. There was a situation on the mission, and she was shot, she never made it off the table Nat” 

Natasha was in disbelief as she cocked a brow at her friend, “you know this is a really shitty time to play a joke like that. She’s never miss this” 

Steve stood in silence, allowing the news to sink in until it did, and Natasha’s eyes filled with tears. “When did Helen call time of death?” Natasha asked. “6:42pm” Steve answered, unaware that the little fact would cause Nat to break completely. He caught her in his arms, comforting her until she was able to gather herself once more. “I t-think you guys should go” she looked up at him, “I need to tell Wanda” 

“I understand” Steve replied before the two of them entered the room once again. “Alright guys, I know it’s exciting, but I think we should let Wanda get some rest and our little darling will need a feed soon” Natasha announced, any excuse to kindly ask them to leave. They understood the moment they looked at Steve, they all gave Wanda a hug before the room was just the three of them. 

----

It took a few long days for Wanda to process the news, every time she looked at her new baby, all she felt was happiness but in the short moments she was able to look into her daughter’s eyes, all she saw was you and that was the thing that troubled her a little. Not everybody believed in reincarnation, Wanda wasn’t sure she believed in it much herself but when it came to finalizing the birth certificate, it was time to give the new-born a name. 

“That can’t be right” Wanda frowned, the blue ballpoint pen hovering over the birth certificate. 

“What’s not right detka?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on Wanda’s knee under the dining room table. “Pumpkin’s time of birth, it has to be a mistake” she replied. Pumpkin being the nickname they gave their daughter until they were able to settle on a final name. 

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t notice that” Nat replied, watching as Wanda’s eyes filled with tears. She dropped the pen from her hold and ran her fingers through her hair, “our best friend died the exact same time our daughter was born” she looked to Nat, “call me crazy but this can’t be a coincidence. Every time I look into Pumpkin’s eyes, all I see is Y/n. Even her cheeky little smile makes me feel like Y/n is here” Wanda went on. 

Natasha didn’t think her wife was crazy, not for a second. “Me too” the red head admitted, bringing her hand to cup Wanda’s cheek, wiping her tears. “I know we’re stuck on a name but I can’t help but want to name her after Y/n” she added. Wanda smiled softly through her tears, “I wanted to suggest that. I would love to name her after Y/n, I think it’s a great idea” 

As time went on, little Y/n grew up knowing more and more about the Avenger she was named after, she leant about how you helped her mother’s get together, she learnt all about your favorite hobbies, likes and dislikes. There was plenty of little things that mini-Romanoff did that made everybody around her think of you, from her cheeky smile to her stubbornness and even her mischief behavior when playing with her brothers, she might be half Wanda and half Natasha but she was in many ways, a part of you.

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[ofoceansandtombsanew]

you are love itself (君は愛そのものだ)

cw. fem!reader, childhood friend au, established relationship, love as worship, love as a choice, reader has a defined devil fruit ability

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

synopsis. his skin is dotted in stardust.

notes. a 1.3k look into those short moments of privacy you have with ace on the moby. i got the title from 'therefore you and me' after rewatching this amazing asl brothers animatic for the billionth time. cover comes klimt's the kiss (1908).

Everything is made of stardust; the stars that made Ace are simply visible to the eye.

They couldn't be contained in the depths of his body like the rest of the world's inhabitants. It's scattered all across his skin in a beautiful display, matching the skies they fell from. Isn't that something? You brush a hand against warm skin in awe. It's all right there. The stars themselves rest upon his skin, how beautiful is that? How could anyone want someone like that dead?

When you were children, Ace told you he would bring you the moon.

What do you need the moon for when you've been touching the stars since you were 10?

Straddling his lap, you can't help laughing as you think you'd been fighting a losing battle from the start. From the beginning, you'd been drawn to Ace and his stars and you wanted to follow where they'd go for the rest of your life.

"What's so funny?" Ace murmurs into your shoulder.

"I think I was born to love you." It is the only plausible conclusion for you to reach after 10 years of loving the same person. For the half of your life you've known him, you've chosen Ace from day one. You will continue to choose him for the rest of the life you have. You chose to chase him all around Mt. Corvo, you chose to be his friend, you chose to join his crew and your heart chose him even if your head had been slow to realize. "We don't need to find the One Piece," you murmur as you lead a trail of kisses from his shoulder to Ace's cheek. "I already have everything the world has to offer right here."

You feel Ace stiffen beneath you before he laughs sheepishly, "I think you need to have your eyes checked if you think that."

"Hey," you lean back so you can see his face. Your brows are furrowed sternly but your eyes sparkle with mischief and your lips stretch into a challenging grin. "I have better eyes than you, I can see the soul."

Ace snorts but his voice is light and as warm as the smile painting his face, "souls of the dead, yeah." Smiles suit Ace more than the frowns that were once commonplace when you were younger.

"That still counts," you protest with a chuckle. He doesn't have to believe he's worthy of it, you'll tell Ace all the same. You cup his face in your hands and enjoy the vibration of his mellifluous laughter under your fingers tips as you squeeze his cheeks. "There's a lot you can learn about this sort of stuff when you can see the dead." How the soul carries its wounds even after death. How the soul carries the essence of everything that makes something itself. How love can carry on beyond the grave.

You've seen it countless times by now in your truthfully short time of being a power holder.

The spirit of a man who wanted a few berries to leave as a surprise his husband could stumble upon to brighten his day.

An elderly woman dancing in the town square, seemingly alone following the steps she took with her lost love long ago. Unbeknownst to her, however, her love danced with all the same as they did once a long time ago.

Pods of orcas full of members past and present, refusing to part from their birth pod even in death.

How beautiful it is, a love like that.

Even while deceased, they choose to remain by their beloved all the same.

Whenever it is Ace's time, he'll take his stars with him and they will rest on his skin just as they did when he was alive. But I'll make sure you're so happy you won't want to stay, you vowed when you partook of the sea's cursed fruit. You carry this vow even now. Ace will die a happy death but more importantly, he will live a long and mirthful life.

(You can tell for as sure as your eyes are dry; the urge to cry and scream in mourning and warning nonexistent. Still it's your heart's desire that you go first so you don't ever have to risk the day you know death will come for Portgas D. Ace.)

"You know what I think," you cease your pinching, letting your lax thumbs stroke his face. Dark eyes look up at you like you're a dream and gold like sunlight rests in your chest. It's light yet heavy and even if your heart is calm, its rhythmic beating tells you something precious. And he's so, so precious. "I think that when people move on, they're reborn as someone else. Then they get to live life all over again. And one day, that's gonna happen to us."

Then you'll cease to be the 'you' you have been and so will he.

Maybe that time, you'll be raised in separate seas and there will be no trio of brothers you'll latch onto. Maybe he'll be born somewhere in Paradise but I'll be from the West Blue. Or maybe he'll be a fishman. Or a giant!

Maybe next time, Ace will be a short girl with firey auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes with the disposition to match. Or he'll be a scarred and gruff dragon moray eel fishman who is an overt romantic.

Maybe next time his stars will follow him as the marker that ties him to his previous life. Then you'll recognize him the moment you see him. But even if I don't, I'll love you then too. You don't need reminders of who he was to make you want him again.

Whatever the outcome may be, you will embrace it wholly.

"Whenever that happens, I'm gonna find you and I'm going to love you all over again. You can be a girl or a giant or a fishman." Or maybe he'll be the tiny human and you'll be the giant. It will be nice being taller than Ace for once, you tell him as much with a laugh. There's a spot of wetness at the corner of his eyes that you wipe away instinctively. "Or… maybe this world runs in one big loop and we get to be us again but that time we get to make different choices. Do the stuff we didn't do last time. But regardless of all the different things I might end up doing, the one thing that is gonna stay the same is that I'll choose you all over again."

There's a pause before Ace ducks from your gaze with a wet laugh, forehead pressed against your shoulder again. The unmistakeable feel of warm droplets subsequently follow. "Thatch must be cutting onions," he chuckles weakly. "Sorry."

"Dummy," you wrap your arms around his shoulders and inhale his scent. There's a natural sweetness to it you can't explain; it's sweet but there is a peppery kick. It's been that way since the first day you met him. I love him, I love him, I love him. The sentiment echoes throughout your entire being. "it's okay to cry."

"Would you really want me again?" His voice is soft and unsure like a young bird who doesn't know if it can trust its wings.

Who else would I want?

Why would I want anyone else?

I've known you for 10 years, Ace. There's nothing about you I don't want.

"Over and over again," you kiss his temple once, twice and then a third time before you lift his head and kiss the corners of his eyes. "It's you and no one else."

A noise of surprise escapes you when Ace's lips press against your own but you relax a beat later, humming tenderly. You relish every sensation, how his arms wrap around you tight and how his fingers gently dig into your back. The taste of salt on your lips is akin to the ocean and your heartbeat reverberates throughout your chest.

Yes, it's telling you something precious.

[floweycidal]

Is it just me or does flowey get humbled in both genocide and pacifist routes?

Genocide because he felt the pain and fear he caused others

Pacifist is pretty self explanatory

to say flowey was humbled would be an understatement. bro really did all this just to lose LMFAO

on a serious note, you're right. flowey does get humbled. in every route, actually. that is because he is destined to lose. to me, the world seemed like it just never accounted for his revival, nor did it consider anything that might spring from his existence.

flowey's entire life was built around frustration, a world that spun on without him, leaving him behind like an afterthought. no matter how many resets he triggered, how many paths he took, he never found meaning. nothing he did felt real, nothing produced anything that lasted. he was drowning in the monotony, in the overwhelming sense that the universe was dull and utterly uncaring about whether he was there or not.

this is where his delirium n obsession begins. if the world wouldn’t offer him anything worthwhile, he’d take it. if the universe ignored him, he would force it to notice. he became consumed with the need for control, desperate to pull the strings, to carve out something, anything meaningful in a life that had none.

but regardless of what he did, it was never enough. he saw every outcome, lived every route, read every book, burned every book. he spared everyone, he killed everyone. none of it ever amounted to anything.

the same faces, the same hollow conversations, the same endless loop. every time, it brought him right back to where he started, as if he hadn’t done a thing.

that was the real cruelty. whatever he tried, the outcomes were always the same, predictable and unfulfilling, none of them going in a way that truly satisfied him. they bored him, wore him down, as though the universe was mocking his every effort. every route he took, every decision he made led to nothing substantial. he was losing interest. his reasons for living were dwindling, fast.

the world went on, indifferent to his suffering, and that very apathy ate away at him. it drove him crazy out of his mind.

then you came along. suddenly, there was hope. a perverted kind of hope that maybe this time would be different. you could finally bring about something authentic into his life, your unpredictability a breath of fresh air. it was a flutter of change in a universe that had otherwise forsaken him.

in geno, flowey is almost thrilled by the chaos you cause. he praises you, revels in your violence, as if your cruelty is proof that his worldview was right all along. you become the demon he always believed you could be. and for a brief instant, he feels justified, even vindicated. but even that falls flat bc in the end, you take things further than he ever could. you tear through the world with a coldness that makes even him tremble. he’s staring down the barrel of his own logic, realizing that in a world where you’ve killed everyone, you’re going to kill him too. the power he used to reset everything, to cheat death, means nothing now. he’s left with nothing but terror. whoever convinced him he was in control? #humbled

in neutral, flowey tries one more time. he taunts you, eggs you on, hoping that at least in death, he can prove that the world is as cruel and merciless as he always believed.

but when you spare him, when you refuse to give him that twisted validation, it’s the ultimate rejection of everything he stands for. mercy is the one thing he can’t handle because it'll just mean he was wrong. you don’t have to be violent to win. you don’t have to be cruel to survive. so... he flees. #humbled

in pacifist, flowey is convinced this is it. he is god. he finally wields the power to keep you here with him. you'll play his game over and over again, and this time, he’s sure it will work. but as fate would have it, you break through his defenses, restoring the lost souls and calling out to him with a warmth that disarms him completely.

he’s left flabbergasted as his power falters against your unwavering spirit. for all his might, he realizes he’s lost control (again). all his efforts to grasp at godhood collapse, leaving him to reckon with the reality that his power meant nothing in the presence of true compassion. #HUMBLEDD

all flowey ever wanted was a single victory. just One. in a life stripped of everything dear, where he was left with only emptiness, he yearned to believe that if he held on tightly enough, if he played his cards just right, he could finally win. but that outcome was always just out of reach.

it slipped away like everything else. it simply was not meant to be.

flowey's most formidable foe was ultimately himself. as it turns out, his refusal to let go is what truly condemned him.

for letting go meant accepting chara was gone, and nothing could ever return to how it was.

for letting go meant remaining a soulless flower, trapped in a dismal existence, endlessly tormented by his loss and incapacity to love as he once did.

for letting go meant confronting the unsettling possibility that he might never find joy again.

for letting go meant accepting that perhaps, after everything, there genuinely was nothing left for him.

...is it really any wonder, then, that he sought out control with such pitiful desperation?

siiiiiigh

i'm not sure how we ended up here, but.... thanks for the ask, anon!

[evilminji]

You know my Crechelings Are Possessed post?

What if it was just the one? A SI-OC or OC?

Dying and going THROUGH the Force? I will attest, is GONNA have side effects. You're gonna end up... weird. Not Normal for a Force Sensitive. Kinda like Anikin tbh. A bit TOO in tune. A bit TOO aware. Connected.

As though your brain was cracked open 5+ dimensionally, to the Whole Of Creation that IS the Force and it kinda fucked you up a bit. Cause as A Luminous Force Being? You were fine! Energy and light! But as MATTER? Well...

Matter breaks.

Can withstand only so much.

We are LIMITED by our matter, crude and flawed as it is. Beloved as it may be.

Cause make no mistake! You aren't BROKEN. But you are CHANGED. There were a series of clear, monumentous, and "life" altering events back to back here! Death, a traumatizing thing no matter HOW peaceful it may have been. And in all likelihood? It was NOT a peaceful end. It probably? Hurt. Was frightening. Abrupt. There is grief and hurt there. Fear.

Then the trauma of being separated from everyone we have ever known. Without closure. For them OR us. Our empathy would remind us of their suffering. That they do NOT know we are okay. That we have no way to TELL them we are. This too, is trauma. But? Worse?

Is the Force.

We? Are no Jedi. Not yet. We are confused. Lost and do not understand. It is FOREIGN to us. An outside will that we cannot escape. Where are our gods? The death we expected? The afterlife we assumed we would meet? It's INSIDE US. It IS US. We are IT. We don't know where we are and everything feels?

E N D L E S S .

Can force ghosts even cry? Weep, terrified and overwhelmed? Afraid? Simply BRINGING us to them would not impart understanding. And imparting understanding? Well... we know it to be not OF us? To be inflicted. An invasion. The Force is not cruel. But! Importantly! It is not and has never BEEN? Mortal.

Blue and Orange morality is at play. How do you explain to a formless, infinite, all knowing, all powerful God Force? The concept of "boundaries"? Limits? There is GOOD to be done. It's helping you! Pushing love and comfort! Surely that should work? Why is that not working? It is... confused. Not MADE for such contemplations.

This too, is Trauma. Being held in the hands of a God. Benevolent does not mean SAFE. Does not mean you will not be unharmed. Just... that they do not MEAN to harm you.

Or have very Good Reasons for why they "Must".

The Force Ghosts help. They are patient in the way only old Master's could be. Kind. They understand. Have taught. And so? Though they are quite confused, they understand you struggle to release your fear. Explaining things helps. Talking helps. And you find peace.

Not the afterlife you EXPECTED, but not terrible.

Which... of course, is when once again things change.

Birth, Life, these TOO, are Trauma. You were FREE. No more pain. No aches. No hunger, no thirst, no exhaustion. Connection deeper then this broken and flawed matter could ever hope to achieve. The world has gone SILENT. Muffled. Like solitary confinement for the SOUL.

Only in meditation, are you FREE.

Your parents can't handle you. You grieve for them. For the child they should have had. Look around the nursery, so filled with excitement and love, and feel nothing but the urge to weep. You are a stillborn, brought to life. A child stolen. They deserved better then this. Even as you can not be anything but what you ARE? What of THEIR sorrow? Their confusion and futures now impossible?

You love them. They are not yours. Will never tryely be your parents, for all they brought you into this world. But oh, Oh, you love these poor grieving souls. Wish it had not been you. That they could have had the child they were so excited to love. You... you are sorry. So, so sorry.

They take you to the Temple. You guild them to a child in need, first. Hope they will be happy.

You do not look back.

They put you in a Creche with others just as "Unusually Strong" in the Force. Is that Grogu? Hi Grogu. Who are the rest of you? The room is quite. Everyone talking loudly in the Force, instead. It would be deafening for the more delicate younglings. They don't have the shields for it yet. The children here SHOUT without meaning too, like standing at a rock concert.

Visions are a constant thing. Unusual Force gifts and manifestations. Illirrrska can see auras. Doesn't know what they MEAN, mind you, and xe sees them on EVERYTHING that lives, but still! Xey are well on xeir way to figuring it out. (Xey have a holo document cataloging the colors, you see.)

You fit right in! With your Tiny Herald Of Death To Come nature. Your Creche mates believe you. The adults? Have grown numb. Used to filtering. Tiny younglings with Too Much Force flowing through them? Are horrors. Viscerally unsettling. Unnatural.

Even to the Jedi.

But! They REFUSE to treat children with such caution and distain. Hold them at an arms length out of FEAR. So they mentally filter. "That's nice dear, horrifying concepts and brain melting secrets, mmmhmmm. Eat your pudding. Who wants to play float ball~‽ Yaaaaaay!"

No one will listen. Future in motion. But really, of course it is. You are no fool.

However... tell me, Master Jedi. Does it matter? If we die one step to the right as apposed to the left? Because you would not LISTEN when the Force spoke? The future only changes when you ACT. Not when you REFUSE too. Out of FEAR. Out of IGNORANCE. Out of ATTACHMENT.

And make no mistake, you ARE attached. Clinging so hard to your beliefs that you could not POSSIBLY be wrong. Could not POSSIBLY be fallible, be fooled by the Dark Side and lead astray, that you have turned your back on the very Tennants of the Code itself.

What is more important? Tradition or the Force? The innocent or the way things were? Tell me, what is the will of the Force... and what is Fear? Convenience? The little moral compromises that damn? Who do you serve, Master Jedi? And ARE you serving them?

Perhaps you should meditate.

Just???

This Tiny Cryptid Crecheling? That speaks like a wizened old Master? Feels like a tiny star in the Force? Not a cute lil ball of light. A FUCKING STAR. Giant ball of gas in space, a burning ball of light, THAT kind of star! But... small? Person shaped. It's like meditating next to a Force Nexus.

They just? Hand you things. Or sabotage random ships. Literally just FUCKING SHOT a knight once, for no clear reason! All they would say is "it's not like you'll actually listen. This is the only way." What? Of COURSE WE'LL LISTEN! (No. They won't. Just ask Sifo. Ask Obi-Wan. The Sith, fear, and hubris have eroded the Jedi from within.)

The full blown confidence of an adult? Combined with the creepy "oh god. They're in THE VENTS!!!" Nature of highly force sensitive Crechelings?

Magnificent~☆

They can see into your SOUL. Are holding a toddler that squirms around, wiggles up to whisper in their ear, gets a nod, only for YOU to be somberly informed that your second in command (a life long friend) has betrayed you. Avoid wearing red. You will die on a Friday. By the way, they can't reach the counter... could you hand them those snacks?

One of the other one speaks to trees.

The trees SPEAK BACK.

Prophecy. Fuckin Terrifying Prophecy EVERYWHERE.

Did YOU want to know that your grandson will grow up to kill his brother? No? Too bad! Not even married yet? ALSO TOO BAD! Have FUN with that knowledge! How about learning that there is horrific suffering planets away? No. No there ISN'T anything you can do about it. Just... here! Have some Deeply Cursed Knowledge. From a toddler. Now! They're gonna go eat grass~☆

The appear and disappear at random. Climb the walls. Fuckin FLOAT. The Force itself is their imaginary friend! They literally consult it over PUDDING CHOICES. Sometimes? They talk in perfect synchronization, like a hive mind. Stare without blinking. One moment they are perfectly normal children... the next? Like PUPPETS.

Tiny avatars. Through which SOMETHING GREATER speaks. They KNOW, not think, KNOW what they need to do. You can not convince them. Trying just makes you an obstacle to be overcome.

They are four.

Toddlers and children. Younglings. Initiates!

I just? Want there to be? A portion of Deeply Cursed/Possessed Crechelings? That are just LIKE that. Loved regardless. Nothing wrong with them. They're just too strong for their lil bitty baby brains. Once they learn to shield better? It'll balance out. Anikin would have gone there, had he been found young.

It'd be hilarious? If what saves the galaxy? Is someone finally REMEMBERING that? And thinking to themselves?

"Hey, you know what might be good for that Skywalker kid? Being exposed to more Force Sensitives that GET him. We should put him on Cursed Crechelings duty for a bit." And??

Anikin? Is in LOVE? They are all so SMOL an NORMAL? Finally! Jedi who aren't EMOTIONALLY DISTANT! Shielded? What do mean "Shielded"? No I'm not shouting all the time! This is my normal speaking voice! *Skywalker confusion as he cuddles babies*

Cause like? He too? Spoke in horrifying prophecy? Was vaguely Anti-christ-y? Did the (o.o) see into your sooooooul stare? So WHAT? That's just how babies ARE!

.....what do you MEAN "no"?

Every day, throwing open Obi-Wan's poor, slowly being destroyed, front door like "Master! Did you know I am AN OUTLIER!? And REALLY LOUD!? Other people aren't emotionally crippled psychopaths, they're just really REALLY quite compared to me!!" "Ah. Yes, Anikin, please. Maybe say that LOUDER. I don't think the ENTIRE temple quite heard you... -_- "

Just?? Anikin Skywalker! And his Hoard of Creepy Possessed Crechelings that are TOTALLY NORMAL, Guys! All kids are like this! He's a GREAT role model and baby sitting! Yeah, it's the Clone wars, and no, he has NO idea how the entire Creche got onto the ship... but hey! Enrichment! That's good for them, right?

(^-^) (o.o) (|o.o|) (o,o) (o-o) (|o,o|)

*clones look from their general, to the tiny unblinking magic jedi babies, back to their general* s-sure?

@legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @starwarsblr

[merwgue]

The idea of Nyx and Tamlin becoming mates in a platonic, parental sense is an incredibly profound and heartwarming twist. It redefines what it means to be a mate—showing that the deepest connections aren’t always romantic but can also be based on trust, care, and the unconditional love found in parental relationships.

Imagine Nyx, the child of two deeply traumatized and distracted parents—Feyre and Rhysand. Despite their best efforts, they rush into parenthood for all the wrong reasons, feeling the pressure of impending danger and the belief that time is running out. They're powerful, yes, but so burdened by their past that they can’t give Nyx the love and attention he needs to thrive. They try to be present, but emotional neglect slowly seeps in, leaving Nyx feeling alone, unloved, and desperate for connection. They compensate with material things, but it’s not enough. Nyx is still just a boy, craving someone who will truly see him.

At around ten years old, in an attempt to make his parents notice him, Nyx starts sneaking off to the Spring Court. What begins as an act of rebellion turns into something entirely unexpected. Tamlin—who has been broken, hollow, and struggling to rebuild his life—finds this small, vulnerable boy suddenly seeking him out. At first, Tamlin is hesitant. He’s never been good with children. He doesn’t know how to connect, especially not after all the devastation he’s been through. But slowly, Nyx keeps coming back, visiting him again and again. Tamlin begins to open up, maybe not in grand gestures, but in small acts of kindness—offering Nyx a safe space, listening when he speaks, giving him attention that’s not laced with expectation or distraction.

As the months pass, something shifts. Nyx starts to see Tamlin not as the feared High Lord of the Spring Court, but as someone who cares for him in a way that his own parents cannot. He finds solace in Tamlin’s presence, and Tamlin, in turn, finds a sense of purpose in looking after Nyx. It’s not about power or obligation—it’s simply about being there for this boy who so clearly needs a father figure. Tamlin never asked to be a father, but he can’t ignore the bond that’s quietly forming between them.

Then one day, after countless visits, Nyx accidentally calls Tamlin “papa.” It slips out in a moment of vulnerability, perhaps after a particularly rough day back at home. Immediately, Nyx freezes, terrified of how Tamlin might react. He starts to apologize, stumbling over his words, thinking he’s crossed a line. But instead of pulling away, Tamlin wraps him in a hug, a genuine, comforting embrace, and quietly says, “If you want me to, I will.” And in that moment, everything shifts.

The world seems to stop for both of them. The bond that snaps into place isn’t the romantic mating bond we’re used to seeing—it’s something entirely different. It’s a bond built on trust, on care, on the love of a protector for a child who needs him. It’s a parental bond, the kind that says, I will be here for you, always. I will keep you safe. I will love you like my own.

Nyx finally feels seen, finally feels loved in a way that’s not forced or transactional. And Tamlin, who has been so lost and broken, finds a new sense of purpose. He never expected to be anyone’s father, but in that moment, he becomes one—not because of blood or obligation, but because of the bond that has formed between him and this boy. Nyx starts calling him "papa," and Tamlin, despite all his fears, accepts it with open arms.

This is why Sarah J. Maas should expand the idea of mates beyond just romantic connections. Mates should be about completing each other’s souls, in whatever form that takes. For Nyx and Tamlin, it’s not about romantic love—it’s about the love between a father and a child, a love that grows naturally and beautifully out of shared understanding, trust, and care. And in the end, it’s this bond that brings healing to both of them.

[ahmedabuzuorfamily]

My name is Ahmed Nimer Ahmed Abuzour, a man who devoted his life to his family and my four children: Mohammed, Muhannad, Mai, and Moayad. They were the pride of my life and my hope for the future. Our lives were filled with love and challenges, but I watched them grow before my eyes and dreamed of their bright futures. Mohammed was a promising young man at the beginning of his life, and Mai was a talented girl with big dreams.☺️🥀

But in a single moment, everything changed. The war came, and it broke out in our city. I was not prepared to lose my loved ones, but fate was harsher than I could ever imagine. In one tragic day, I lost Mohammed and Mai. I lost my only daughter, and my son, who was the hope for my future. The pain was indescribable. I found myself drowning in a sea of sorrow and emptiness.😭💔🥹

I could no longer face life with the same strength. Every corner of my home reminded me of them. I would look at their belongings, their pictures, and feel like my soul was torn apart. Days passed, but the grief deepened, and the loss became unbearable.💔😭🥀

One day, as I sat quietly reflecting on my life, I remembered the words of my son Mohammed, who always said to me: “Don’t give up, Dad, you’re stronger than any hardship.” In that moment, I felt as though my children did not want me to give up. I knew I needed to turn this sorrow into something meaningful, something that would honor their memory.💔💔😭

I decided to start helping others, especially children who had lost their families, just as I had lost mine. I opened my home to these children, began caring for them, and gave them the love I had lost. In helping them, I found a kind of solace, as though I was trying to fill the void left in my heart by my children.💔🥹🥀

But I need help to rebuild my life and the future of my remaining children. I want to regain hope and help these children have a better future. I ask everyone to donate to support this noble mission and to bring hope back into our hearts. Every contribution, no matter how small, will make a significant impact.🙏🏾🙏🏾🥀💔

Help me to rebuild our future so that we can be a reason for changing the lives of other children.🙏🏾💔🥹

‏

[magmethius]

for today's @theemperorweek prompts: intimacy & promise (above art is a commission i bought from nopu <3)

A chunk of prose for this one. Promises made during intimacy. (emps/illithid tav, tav's second person pov, implied but not described explicit)

---

"An illithid does not claim territory for fulfillment," the Emperor says, "but for power. The gratification is instant, but unsatisfactory."

You stare up at him, trying to read his deeper thoughts, and he lets you. There's a pit of craving inside of him, matching yours, a needy ache that has yet to be sated. The tendril cradling your cheek moves, sensually draping itself around your shoulders instead.

Yes, he wants... connection. Not conquest.

"My sword. My partner. Moss. My bondmate. My stardust."

The Emperor leans forward, digging his claws into the moss by your sides. The tentacle around your neck slips away and slides down your torso, trailing across the ridges on your chest so - provocatively, it makes your heart skitter. It halts just at your belly. "It would be far more satisfying to express one's devotion by choice... Would it not?"

Oh... Your hands twitch beside his. "Perhaps," you say.

He takes a long, shuddering breath, and presses his head to yours. It's comforting, and magnetic, and the rejuvenation you feel is instantaneous, the open flow of psychic energy between you alleviating mental aches that the healing spring couldn't. Your partner's mind is still fiercely heated, still thrumming with leftover vestiges of hormonal possessiveness. It pushes against your own, silently pleading for one last confirmation, a proclamation made consciously, not instinctually, a willing choice -

It's so desperate, his desire to have you claim him - not just in body, but in soul. It tugs at every single one of your aberrant little heartstrings.

He pulls away. "Will you -" promise -

"I am yours," you say, not letting him finish vocalizing the question. "And you are mine."

"Mine," you repeat, confident, and loud, and lucid. You float up, sink your claws into his shoulders, and thread your tentacles around his. "Mine." You barely remember to breathe as you greedily try to shove out every inch of space between your bodies. He attempts to pull back for air, but you chase him, refusing to part until he understands. "Mine." His hands skate up your spine, claws raking electrifying streaks as they go, and when he reaches your neck he nearly drags you both beneath the water's surface. You have to release one of your hands to cup his face and bring him back up and - "Mineminemine!" You bump your forehead against his over and over, kiss him and kiss him and kiss him, projecting short and sweet kisses and long and passionate kisses and desperate kisses and everything in between -

The Emperor purrs his joy into you, the rumbling of it sending more ecstatic vibrations through your tangled tentacles, and returns each of your projections with one of his own. He clings to your devotion, memorizing how differently those same words feel in his mind when thought proudly and wholeheartedly, when laced with love, not with lust. He already knows of your undying loyalty, you've certainly expressed your love for him often enough to have those words permanently etched into both of your beings, but he'll never, ever tire of hearing just how much you want him.

Being needed is nice, but being wanted is wonderful.

"Yes..." he breathes, when you finally part.

"You are mine, and I am yours."

[kookygranger]

Spirit in the Sky

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Steve finds you. You begin to wish he’d left you alone.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au, drink driving, motorcycle crash, ghostrider!steve, smut

Word count: 2.5k

Series Masterlist

Chapter Two

3 years ago

He’d had one too many. It was evident in the way it took him three goes to kickstart his bike and peel off from the curb by the bar, helmet on as if that would protect him from lowered inhibitions; delayed reflexes.

Maybe he’d revelled too much in the glory of the jump he’d pulled off earlier in the night during the show. A distance only ever attempted once before, cleared with ease by the newest hotshot on the stunt rider scene. Maybe he should’ve been more wary of the way his heart raced when the crowd roared for him. Maybe he should’ve recognised the danger in his desperate need for approval when the senior member of the team told him that he was one helluva rider and bought him another drink.

These were all things that crossed his mind rapidly when he clipped some debris lying on a back road he was only taking to avoid getting pulled over and lost control of his bike. That part seemed to go on for an eternity before he was thrown in the air. He didn’t remember landing or feeling any pain when he came too. In fact, he couldn’t feel anything and wasn’t even sure that he was conscious.

Especially when his view of the stars was blocked by him.

He was merely a shadow at first. A dark abyss that made less sense the longer you stared, Steve felt his chest expand and deflate rapidly but couldn’t pinpoint the feeling of his heart racing underneath.

When his form finally came into focus, the smile on his face was enough to tell Steve that something wasn’t right. All of a sudden, he was standing in front of the man and in view of the reck that was his bike across the other side of the small intersection. When he looked down at his body there wasn’t a scratch on him. And when he went to take his helmet off, he realised it was crushed on the ground a few feet away.

“That was a nasty one son.”

His voice, although calm, sent a shiver down his spine.

“W-what happened?”

The man only smiled again and Steve realised he didn’t need it explained. That he hadn’t miraculously and impossibly come away from a crash like that unscathed. That he wasn’t as invincible as he so foolishly thought.

“Where am I?”

“You’re at a crossroads son.”

Steve quirked his brow, thinking that was an obvious statement before it sunk in. Before it clicked that this man wasn’t here to help him move on peacefully. And just as he thought it the man began to explain that he was willing to offer him a deal.

Now, Steve wasn’t religious by any means, but he was aware enough to know that accepting a deal from the devil wouldn’t ever work out in his favour. That he needed to resist temptation to save his soul.

Soul. The man kept bringing that up. He wanted it. Wanted Steve’s, for whatever reason. And Steve was ready to walk away, whatever that meant because it had to be the right choice. The good choice.

Until he promised him something in exchange that had the rhythm of his heart returning to his chest.

***

The smell of summer rain always put you in a certain mood. Lifted you outside of your life and took you places you’d find in your best dreams. The rare ones.

Today was no different as the petrichor wafted in from the high open windows around the diner, a slight breeze to relieve the steamy heat within. Except your dreams had taken the shape of someone in particular lately. And his hazel eyes and mole-flecked face were on your mind constantly since your ride around town the other night.

It only slightly takes you by surprise when you find him leaning up against the red brick of the diner, smoking under the small awning by the back door as the rain continues to patter against the pavement. His hair and shoulders are a little damp, his smile small and untameable as you approach him with a garbage bag in hand.

“It’s employees only back here I’m afraid.”

He cocks his head as you stand in front of him, the tip of your shoe rubbing against your calf.

“I’m not allowed to enjoy the view?” It might be sarcasm. The dingy bins that give off an odour on hotter days and the bitumen full of potholes and cracks, not exactly an oasis for employee breaks. But you follow his eyeline to the dense forest across the way and wonder if it makes him feel the same way it does to you when you stare at it every day and think.

You don’t find out. Instead, he takes the trash bag off you and dumps it in one of the big metal bins, rain drops making his t-shirt a little more translucent when he’s standing in front of you again. Only looking away when your back hits the wall and your eyes close on instinct as you feel his breath against your face.

He hadn’t kissed you the other night. Only told you that he’d see you soon, his eyes lingering on your lips for a moment too long before he gently took his helmet from your grasp and put it on himself. He didn’t pull away until you got inside your house safely, too scared to look back and realise that you’d officially gone too far in your daydreaming this time. But then you thought about it, and you couldn’t help the sinking of disappointment in your chest. He hadn’t kissed you.

All the dwelling since then is washed away when his lips find yours.

Unhurried, soft, deep kisses that have you melting against the wall, Steve tightening his grip around your waist when you begin to slide. He smirks at the dazed look on your face when you come up for air, trying to play off the way his heart is racing.

“You free tonight?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his question. Completely uncaring of whether that’s true.

He leans in for another long kiss, then pecks along your jaw.

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Seven?” You barely recognise the breathy voice that leaves you.

He kisses you again.

“Seven.”

His confirmation repeats in your head for the rest of your shift. Puzzling one of the other waitresses when she asks you how many cokes you need for table four.

“Seven?”

***

You consider changing, thinking that a dress was an inappropriate choice as you stop in front of Steve’s bike, still running, after you’d bounded down the path from your house before he’d gotten the chance to kill the engine.

But you’re slightly thankful for your improper choice as his hand finds your bare thigh once everything’s tucked into place to protect your modesty. There’s hardly anything between you, Steve, and the bike – and the thought alone sends a thrill through your normally overcautious mind.

He takes you to a secluded spot in the trees, overlooking part of the town. Lights from the houses and businesses on the main street twinkling in front of you.

You don’t notice the bag strapped to the back of his bike until he starts pulling things from it. A blanket, that you pretend not to observe still has the tag on, a couple of sandwiches, two bottles of soda and two plastic containers with a slice of cake in each. One chocolate, one vanilla with fresh fruit on top.

You go to thank him for all the trouble as you sit down and he places everything in between you, but he cuts you off, eyeing all the store-bought items.

“It isn’t much, I know.”

You don’t hesitate to correct him, “It’s perfect, Steve. Thank you.” He looks up at you. “I’m just curious to know if the chocolate cake is for you or me.”

He smiles, “You can have both if you want.”

“Good answer.”

The picnic is devoured quickly in between conversation, and it isn’t long until you’re watching the stars in between fluttering eyelids as Steve kisses your neck. He’s on top of you, still fully clothed and taking things painfully slow as if he’s happy just getting acquainted with your neck. While it’s appreciated – you’re itching to be consumed by him entirely. You guide his hand from your waist, leading it further down until it gets to the hem of your dress. He stops you when you begin to guide him up again, pulling away from your neck to look at you.

“Are you sure?” His voice is hoarse, eyes slightly glazed over but the pinch in his brows tells you his question is genuine. When you nod, followed by a whispered yes when he doesn’t immediately resume, he leans back in to capture your lips, his thumb tickling your inner thigh as his hand travels up.

He’s just about to reach where you’re aching for him most when the sound of car tyres stops you both. By the time headlights reach you, two cars pulling in a bit further down from your spot on the ground, you’re both sitting up.

“Shit.”

Steve whispers and you giggle at the flustered way his hand rakes through his wild hair, “Sorry, I should’ve told you. It’s kind of a popular spot with the locals.”

He shakes his head at himself, smiling at the sound of your laugh. He begins packing the leftover wrappers and bottles away and your heart sinks, thinking it’s all over.

You wrap your arms around your knees when he looks back at you, eyes glinting underneath the newly risen moon.

“You wanna see my place?”

***

The carnival was closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Walking through the dark rides had you sticking close to Steve’s side, the eeriness of a closed fairground causing goosebumps to rise, though they were quickly smoothed by his warmth when his arm wraps around your back.

It was their second week of four in town. The location good for drawing crowds from neighbouring towns.

You try not to think of how quickly two weeks would pass you both by, instead focussing on Steve’s trailer as he helps you step in.

It was small but warm. A tiny kitchenette across from the door, an even smaller bathroom up the back and a plaid sofa off to the side. You noticed a few books scattered about, a few comics, but some that looked like Greek mythology and maybe even occult–Steve’s gentle pull on your body had your attention drawing back to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he walks backward to his bed.

“You with me, honey?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

He turns you both around, helping you lay gently on his bed, picking up where you left off earlier. Only this time he doesn’t just focus on your lips or your neck. This time he moves down your chest, mouthing at the exposed skin as his fingers trace lightly up and down your thigh, drawing circles higher and higher up until he finally gets to where you’ve been waiting for him. Drawing a gasp as he wastes no time, finding you completely ready for him, pulling down your underwear and bunching your dress around your stomach. He kisses you there, once, twice, three times before he moves further down and shows you just how much he’s been thinking of this too.

It doesn’t take long for your peak to hit and you're dazed as Steve laps it all up like you’re better than any cake he’s ever tasted, prolonging this feeling of ecstasy until another wave creeps up on you, taking you by surprise.

Steve doesn’t look surprised, just hungry for more when he finds his way back up to you. You’re feverish, scrambling to rid him of his top and working on his belt in quick succession. When his hand engulfs your thigh, you jump at the contact.

“God, you’re hot.” You whisper into his mouth as you share quick kisses.

“Thanks baby, but you should see yourself.”

You giggle, then frown when your hands come into contact with his torso, “No, I mean you’re physically hot. Like really warm. Should we open a window and take a second?”

Steve stills on top of you, you can feel the muscles in his stomach tense, his skin now burning under your hands.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck.” He hisses and scrambles off you, grabbing his t-shirt from the floor and putting it back on. You sit up as he buckles his belt. “I uh, I just remembered that I have to take care of something.” He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, running his hand through his hair and picking a spot on the floor. You shift your dress down to cover yourself, feeling the cool splash of a moment lost.

“You can stay here if you want. I’ll probably be back by the morning. I can take you home then.”

You’re suddenly aware of your unfamiliar surroundings. A lockless door on a trailer housed in a group of unknown residents and the boy you don’t actually know very well at all leaving.

“I’d rather go home now.” Your voice is small, lost of the breathiness of a few moments ago and Steve still isn’t looking at you. Instead, he looks around for your shoes that came off somewhere in between the door and his bed and hands them to you.

“We need to go like right now though.”

He turns around, barely waiting for you and you feel a stinging in your eyes. “Do you know where my underwear went?”

Steve stops just before he reaches the door, eyes locking with yours as he looks back, his face crumpling when he sees the watery shine to them.

“Fuck, sorry.” He rushes back over to you, scrambling around in his crumpled bedsheets, “I’m sorry–I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, locating your underwear which you snap off him when he doesn’t move to hand them to you. You finish dressing quickly, ready to be anywhere but here. Storming out of the trailer with Steve close behind you.

You can feel the ghost of his hand on the small of your back, the heat still radiating off him, before he thinks better of it and lets you walk slightly ahead.

The heat makes you feel sticky as you reluctantly cling to him while he zips back through town, still taking the corners slowly with you on the back. You’d be concerned he was coming down with a fever if you weren’t so crushed by how the night was ending.

His eyes are trained on the road when you get off the bike. This time he doesn’t wait until you’re inside safely, his lame I’ll see you later muffled while you’re taking his helmet off and he shoots off before you even have the chance to return it to him.

He’s out of sight quickly, turning at the end of your street, but the buzz of his engine is still audible from a couple of streets away.

You stand there until it’s just the crickets left chirping.

When you’re inside, you throw his helmet down the hall, collapsing in a crying heap on the bottom stairs.

Never again will you take a chance on a stranger straight from your fantasies.

Tagging @bettyfrommars ‘cause he’s all yours

[maelancoli]

Writing Intimacy

i often see writers sharing a sentiment of struggling with writing kiss scenes which honestly bleeds into other portrayals of physical intimacy. i see it a lot in modernized styles of writing popularized by the recent trend in publishing to encourage short, choppy sentences and few adverbs, even less descriptive language. this makes intimacy come across awkward, like someone writing a script or clumsy recounting of events rather than a beautiful paragraph of human connection.

or just plane horniness. but hey, horny doesn't have to be mutually exclusive with poetic or sensual.

shallow example: they kissed desperately, tongues swirling and she moaned. it made her feel warm inside.

in depth example: she reached for the other woman slowly and with a small measure of uncertainty. the moment her fingers brushed the sharp, soft jaw of her companion, eliza's hesitance slid away. the first kiss was gentle when she finally closed the distance between them. she pressed her lips lightly to gabriella's in silent exploration. a tender question. gabriella answered by meeting her kiss with a firmer one of her own. eliza felt the woman's fingers curling into her umber hair, fingernails scraping along her scalp. everything inside eliza relaxed and the nervousness uncoiled from her gut. a warm buzz of energy sunk through her flesh down to the very core of her soul. this was right. this was always where she needed to be.

the first complaint i see regards discomfort in writing a kiss, feeling like one is intruding on the characters. the only way to get around this is to practice. anything that makes you uncomfortable in writing is something you should explore. writing is at its best when we are pushing the envelope of our own comfort zones. if it feels cringy, if it feels too intimate, too weird, too intrusive, good. do it anyway! try different styles, practice it, think about which parts of it make you balk the most and then explore that, dissect it and dive into getting comfortable with the portrayal of human connection.

of course the biggest part comes to not knowing what to say other than "they kissed" or, of course, the tried and true "their lips crashed and their tongues battled for dominance" 😐. so this is my best advice: think beyond the mouth. okay, we know their mouths are mashing. but what are their hands doing? are they touching one another's hair? are they scratching or gripping desperately at one another? are they gliding their hands along each other's body or are they wrapping their arms tightly to hold each other close? do they sigh? do they groan? do they relax? do they tense? are they comfortable with each other or giddy and uncertain? is it a relief, or is it bringing more questions? is it building tension or finally breaking it?

get descriptive with the emotions. how is it making the main character/pov holder feel? how are they carrying those emotions in their body? how do they feel the desire in their body? desire is not just felt below the belt. it's in the gut, it's in the chest, it's in the flushing of cheeks, the chills beneath the skin, the goosebumps over the surface of the flesh. everyone has different pleasure zones. a kiss might not always lead desire for overtly sexual touches. a kiss might lead to the desire for an embrace. a kiss might lead to the impulse to bite or lick at other areas. a kiss could awaken desire to be caressed or caress the neck, the shoulder, the back, the arms etc. describe that desire, show those impulses of pleasure and affection.

of course there is the tactile. what does the love interest taste like? what do they smell like? how do they kiss? rough and greedy? slow and sensual? explorative and hesitant? expertly or clumsily? how does it feel to be kissed by them? how does it feel to kiss them?

i.e. examine who these individuals are, what their motives and feelings are within that moment, who they are together, what it looks like when these two individuals come together. a kiss is not about the mouth. it's about opening the door to vulnerability and desire in one's entire body and soul.

[orangeheliophile]

Dating Puerto Rican Bakugou

Contains: Puerto Rican Bakugou x Latina/poc! reader. Bakugou also wears hearing aids in this one. Second!year Katsuki, mentions of after war, Hispanic! Sero mentioned.

●I like to think you both were best friends since you were kids, always sticking together and not just because your mothers were so friends, but because Katsuki had a humongous crush on you and you thought he was the coolest person in the world. Since growing up in Japan, there weren't a lot of people who spoke your language, so another reason you both stayed together.

●His skin would look tanner, maybe have a few beauty marks and more visible scars. Other than that, he's still the same. The same, explosion pomeranian boy with rabies.

●He is a surprisingly great dancer, being an expert in salsa, merengue, bachata, cha-cha, and tango. He's got the hips for it.

●When he grows the courage to ask you out, he would confess to you in Spanish, whispering promises to you that you have his entire heart and soul. (He's secretly a hopeless romantic, but the Hispanic version.) Bro has rizz when he wants it.

●When he asked you out, he said, "Can I be your boyfriend?" Instead of, "Will you be my girlfriend?" Because he only cares about being yours. He belongs to you, and you only. You're not an object, but if you're comfortable, he'll definitely brag to others how you're his.

●His cooking is absolutely divine. If you want something to eat, sit down and look pretty. If he weren't going to be a hero, he would definitely be a chef. He would make you sopita when you're sick, dulce de leche when he wanted you to cuddle him, and he would make all of your favorite foods for you. Just for you, and nobody else.

●He would call you nicknames such as: corazón, amor, bebé, mí cielito, princesa, mamí... and your heart would skip a beat every time. You will definitely return the favor, though, watching his face turn redder than Kirishima's hair.

●He cusses in Spanish a lot, inheriting his mother's anger as well as the attitude. Whenever he watches fútbol, he gets even more passionate about the sport.

●Speaking of his mother, she loves you more than she loves her son. She always demands asks Katsuki to tell you that you're always welcome to visit and that he brings all the snacks she makes for you. She also wants you to marry her son so she doesn't have to deal with his bratty ass. But mainly because you would be her daughter-in-law!

●He always takes you out on dates, sticking your hips together using Sero's duct tape. He's really clingy, always rambling how you're going to get cold, or that you shouldn't be away from him where he can't see you.

●If he doesn't know where you are, he's running around looking for you like a headless chicken. He's secretly a lovesick puppy, constantly craving your attention, and if he doesn't get it, people find it best to back away from him so he doesn't explode.

●He usually hates hearing extras talk. It annoys the hell out of him, making him want to throw out his hearing aids so he can finally get some peace and quiet. You, however, please don't shut up. Your voice is absolutely music to his hears. He loves hearing you ramble about anything. His heart melts at the sight of you mixing up your words while having the happiest smile on your face.

●He knows how to knit and crochet. So whenever it gets cold, he always makes you sweaters, scarves, and blankets to keep you warm. He always makes sure to add things you like, just to make you happy and want to kiss him some more.

●He needs at least five good mornings/good night kisses, six hundred hugs, a ton of cuddles, seven billion 'te amó con todo mí corazóns,' and a bunch of more besitos just to survive and hour. Yes, an hour. Give him what he wants.

●He will never admit it, but he secretly enjoys some telenovelas. His mother always watched them when he was younger, and most of the time, it seemed pretty stupid to him. But he enjoys some of the drama.

●Whenever you want to cuddle and watch a movie, he makes hot chocolate, already having baked cookies as he tucks you into a blanket burrito while sitting you on his lap. He's already kissing your cheek, playing with your hair as you sip on your warm drink and munch on the homemade cookies.

●He wants to take you on vacation to Puerto Rico, show you the streets of San Juan, go hiking with you at El Yunique National forests, and of course introduce you to the rest of his family.

●Of course, he plays the drums, but he likes playing the Spanish guitar as well. He would definitely play romantic songs for you when you're both alone.

●If you have curly hair, oh, he would definitely help you with your routine. He will always search for the best products and be extremely careful not to mess up your curls when he plays with your hair. He loves curly hair. It's so unique and badass in his opinion.

●He's always kind of had a thing for women with dark skin. He finds it pretty when their skin practically glows in the sunlight.

●We all know he gets temper tantrums, but he would act like a whiny/angry toddler when you don't give him affection. And since he cusses a lot and is already dramatic, he would be even more dramatic when he complains in Spanish and acts like he's dying of heartbreak.

●Not only is he an expert at fighting, but he also knows the way of the chancla. The most dangerous weapon of them all. He protects, he attacks, and he most definitely doesn't hold back. Especially when it comes to you, just say the word, and he'll obliterate the person to smithereens.

●Even if he's going to become the future top hero, he knows he would be the perfect malewife. This man can cook, clean, is multi-talented, and would he great with your kids. He would make sure you're always pampered and spoiled with his love.

●He may not seem like it, but he's also a good singer. So if you're in the mood to listen to romantic mushy Spanish songs, he's already swaying your body with his as he sings softly into your ear while dancing in the kitchen with you.

●He definitely has a Puerto Rican banner in his dorm room, right next to an All Might poster and a picture of you. He's not ashamed of his heritage, and he won't ever deny his love for you and admiration for All Might.

●Whenever he's feeling down, he likes to drink Coquito and cuddle you for the rest of the day, watching a romance movie as you play with his hair and give him healing smooches.

●When you both were younger and one of you got a small scratch or bruise, you would definitely do the "sana sana colita de rana" and then kiss the others' boo boos better. Over time, when nobody's watching, you both still do it. It's the best remedy for healing! Besides besitos y abrazitos.

●If you're feeling insecure because your body isn't "stereotypical" to your culture or that you can't speak your language very well, he will do everything in his power to change your mind. He'll scoop you in his arms, sit you on his lap, and do his best to say comforting words to you because his princesa deserves none of this! Eventually, he helps you love yourself more, and step by step, you're both growing closer to one another by how supportive you both are.

●Sero is also Hispanic, being half Mexican made the both of you have someone to talk to. Katsuki and Sero would definitely gossip to each other about the other students. Katsuki's arm would be around your shoulders as the two give judgy looks to people doing stupid things. (You're just doodling on your coloring book while they gossip.)

●Since Mina and Izuku have curly hair, they would absolutely help you whenever you were having trouble with yours. Even if Katsuki threw a temper tantrum every time he didn't get to do it for you. But he will never admit he appreciates them being there for you.

●If you didn't think he was clingy before the war, he's suffocating you even more. Although his right arm is damaged and his heart needs to heal, this boy is constantly stuck to your hip thanks to Sero's duct tape, and you feel the same way, too. You will occasionally give him healing besitos all over his injuries and will reassure him that everything will be okay.

●Just like how you steal his hoodies and shirts, he does the same. Since you like to wear oversized clothes sometimes, he won't hesitate to steal them and wear them proudly. Boasting to others how he's yours.

●You both wear matching layered necklaces resembling each other's quirks. He wears a small explosion charm with another pendant resembling your quirk; yours is the same way.

●Since you're both too young to marry legally, he bought you both promise rings. Having a combination of your quirks engraved on the ring. Don't worry, you both already married when you were five. (He proposed to you with his grandmother's wedding ring. Mama Mitsuki was not happy. But she was happy when she saw you in an adorable frilly dress!)

I wanna write more of these scenarios, but I want to finish a request in my drafts and I've been working on it a lot, and I want it to be good and I want people to like it and, and-😭😔

Anyway, I had fun making this one! :)

[eshieslovemaze]

what we left behind... | jungkook

summary: nothing lasts forever. everything comes to an end. so does your relationship with him.

pairing: jungkook × reader

genre: angst, hurt-no-comfort

word count: 2.2k+

warnings/includes: arguments, a relationship falling apart, eventual breakup, crying, mentions of depression

❤️‍🩹🍂

jungkook and you have been each other's everything for years. your relationship began to bloom in the late years of high school, and blossomed into something truly beautiful by your mid-twenties. your love story was one that your friends both appreciated and envied — two souls who found their way to one another through events aligned by the universe. but life has a way of changing things, and somewhere along the path, you started to drift apart.

it started subtly. you would come home late from your work, too exhausted with your new responsibilities as a high ranked professional to spend your time together. jungkook, overwhelmed with his own workload, would bury himself in his tasks to avoid the palpitating tension at home that only seemed to grow. conversations that used to flow effortlessly between you two became stilted, awkward, and i dare say, suffocating. the little things you once loved and adored about each other became sources of irritation and arguments.

one night, the tension finally boiled over. you fought about something very trivial —who forgot to buy milk, or who left the lights on, and it had escalated into something much darker and irreversible.

"jungkook, why do you always do this? you just shut down, and i feel like i'm talking to a wall! it's like you don't even want to talk with me anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with frustration, mind weighed down and haywire from the turn of events between you two.

jungkook's jaw clenched as he tried to keep his temper in check. "and you think i enjoy this? i can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation that didn’t end in a fight!"

"maybe if you actually listened—" you start, but he doesn't let you finish.

"i do listen! but all i hear is how i'm never good enough for you anymore," his voice rose, sharp and cold like a dagger.

you froze, the weight of his words seeping in like water through a sponge. the anger that had fueled you suddenly turned into something else — pain, guilt, and a deep sadness that you didn’t know how to express. "jungkook, you know... that’s not what i mean. i just—"

"just what, y/n? just wish you were with someone else? someone who didn’t disappoint you all the time? someone who isn't me?" his words seemed to bring out every negative emotion within you, his own chest heaved with each laboured breath, struggling to keep his temper in check.

"that’s not fair!" you cried out, your voice breaking. tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, telling yourself it's not the time, refusing to let them fall. "i never said that, i would never say that!"

"you didn’t have to," jungkook's voice was cold, distant. the warmth that once filled his eyes when he looked at you was all gone, replaced by a dull resignation, something that you tried to ignore to not break down. "maybe… maybe we’re just fooling ourselves, thinking we can keep doing this, when we both know we can't." he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "what are you saying? y-you don't mean it, right?" your nostrils flared, eyes blazing with a mixture of rage, guilt, and most importantly, hurt.

jungkook looked away, unable to meet your gaze. "i don’t know what i’m saying. i just— i don’t know how to fix, or do this," he points his index to you and then himself, "anymore."

the room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your unspoken words pressing down. you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. "maybe we just need some time, some space," you whispered, though you weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

"yeah," jungkook simply replied, his voice devoid of any emotion as he looked away from your eyes. "maybe."

you didn’t speak again that night, both retreating into your own corners of the house like strangers living under the same roof. as the days turned into weeks, the once-familiar spaces felt increasingly empty. awkwardly polite exchanges, forced smiles, and a palpable tension hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the distance that had grown between you in an unalterable way.

then came the afternoon that would be the turning point of everything. you had suggested that you both go to the café where you had your first date, desparately hoping that a walk down memory lane would rekindle the spark you two have misplaced, and take things back to where they were. jungkook agreed, though he wasn’t really sure if he believed it would help.

the café was just as you remembered from your high school days —warm, cozy, with the same old jukebox in the corner playing soft tunes. you sat at your usual table, the one by the window, but the atmosphere was different now. the once comforting familiarity of the place only highlighted how much had changed between the two of you, igniting the tension instead of bringing back the lost warmth.

both of you forced a small talk, urging yourselves to pretend things were just fine when in all reality, they weren't. The tautness between you was palpable and growing, the uncomfortable silence between your words louder than ever.

you finally broke, your voice trembling as you spoke, "jungkook… do you remember how we used to dream about the future? about us together forever? how we talked about travelling, starting a family, growing old together?" you gulped, supressing the trembling emotions in your throat.

jungkook nodded, his throat tightening, "of course, i do. i remember."

"what happened to us?" your voice finally cracked, your eyes searching his for answers that neither of you had. "when did we stop being… us? when did things change from what they were?"

he looked at you, his own heart aching at the sight of your pain. "i don’t know, really," he admitted, his eyes dimming. "i don’t know when we lost each other. to the point that we let the rough patches take control of everything to the point of no return."

your eyes brimmed with tears, and this time, you couldn’t find it in you to hold them back. "i don’t want to lose you, jungkook. i love you. that... that never changed."

"i love you too, y/n. i know it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, choked with bitter feelings from the situation you both are in. "but maybe… maybe love isn’t enough for us anymore. neither of us are happy..." he weakly trails off.

you felt your heart shatter to dust at his words. you wanted to argue, to deny, to fight for the both of you. but deep down, you knew he was right. you both had been trying to hold on to something that was already gone, lost forever.

you finished your beverages in silence, buying time as both your minds wheeled to weigh the situation. when the twilight pink of the sky darkens with clouds, mirroring your thoughts, you two decide to leave. you two walk to the car, the rain that had started moments ago now falling steadily around you.

you drove back to your shared apartment in silence, neither of you knowing what to say. as you two entered the confinements of your shared home — if it even was a home anymore, you spoke up after finding your voice. "what now, jungkook?"

jungkook glanced at you for a moment before looking away, his chest tight with heavy, bitter feelings. "it's time. we will keep hurting ourselves if this goes on. we need to break up."

you looked up at him, your eyes full of pain, sadness, and regret, "i'll always love you, kook."

"and i'll always love you too, y/n," he replied, his eyes softening with melancholy as he gulped. "but… it’s time to let go."

you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks as you closed your eyes. you couldn't stop yourself as you leaned in and gave him a final, lingering kiss — a goodbye wrapped in the echo of what you both left behind. he pulled you close, deepening the kiss as you both tasted the saltiness of your tears through the kiss.

as you parted, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a final farewell. your heart ached with every item he placed into his suitcase, each one a piece of your shared life. the rain outside fell in sync with your tears, and you could only stand there, rooted to the spot. he gave you one last, lingering look before walking out the door, out of the world that you both dreamt of growing old in together, leaving it behind forever.

in the next few months, you went through the pits of regret and depression, wheeling your mind to replay every event during your togetherness and calculate what went wrong, when it went all downhill. you cried for days, mourning for what you two left behind. you made yourself a workaholic to stop yourself from spiralling, cooping yourself at your workplace till odd hours to avoid the memories that would rush back when you would step in your once shared home.

but you knew you couldn't grieve forever; you had to move on. slowly, you began having proper meals and taking care of yourself, gradually starting to change the decor of the apartment — as if to bury all the memories. with a heavy heart, you took down all the frames with pictures of two of you, safely placing them in a box and tucking it away in a corner under the bed. it was hard to let go of all those years of memories, but you did it for your own sake, knowing it would have been worse if you two stayed together. when the one-year mark of the break up hit, you believed that you had moved on, no longer caught up in the past. yes, you felt nostalgic at times, but you finally moved on.

you walked into the upscale downtown gallery, eyes sweeping across the room filled with art lovers and collectors. you weren’t here for the art, though; you had arrived tonight to support a friend who was showcasing her paintings for the first time. as you navigated through the crowd while admiring the art pieces on display, your steps faltered, your breath catching in your throat.

there, across the room, was jungkook.

he looked different — slightly older, more polished in a tailored suit, his hair a little longer than you had remembered, his jawline looking slightly angular. your eyes then fell to the woman beside him, laughing at something he said, her hand resting easily on his arm. she looked stunning, so much that a pang of envy shot through you; for now occupying the place you once had.

your heart tightened at the sight. it had been a year since that rainy night, a year since you had gone your separate ways, but seeing him now stirred that all-too-familiar ache in your chest. he looked happy — content in a way you hadn’t seen far too long.

for a moment, you considered turning around, slipping out before he could notice you. but before you could decide, jungkook's eyes caught yours across the room.

at that moment, everything else faded away. the crowd, the noise, the art — all of it blurred into the background as your eyes locked. but the once fiery connection between you was all gone, leaving only a cold, distant recognition in its place.

jungkook's smile slowly dropped, his expression unreadable. you felt a wave of emotions crash over you — nostalgia, regret, a tinge of longing — but most of all, you felt the cold sting of reality. you were no longer the jungkook and you who had shared dreams and whispered secrets in the dark; now you were just two people who had once been in love, but not anymore.

the woman beside jungkook nudged him, drawing his attention back to her. he offered her a small smile and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. a pang of jealousy flared up inside you, but you quickly pushed it down, reminding yourself that you were no longer a part of each other’s lives.

taking a deep breath, you turned away, forcing yourself to walk in the opposite direction. you mingled with the other guests, engaging in polite conversations, but your mind was miles away. the image of jungkook lingered in your mind, and you couldn’t stop replaying the way he had looked at you — like a stranger from a vague memory.

the evening passed in a blur, and as you left the gallery, you couldn’t resist glancing over your shoulder one last time. jungkook was still there, smiling with the woman who now held his attention, his form turned away from you — both literally and figuratively.

as you stepped out into the cool night air, you realized that the chapter of your life with jungkook had truly closed. you had become what you never thought you could — strangers passing by in the night, each on separate paths, separate lives.

with each step away, you finally allowed yourself to let go of the last remnants of what you left behind, embracing the unknown future ahead, no longer haunted by the ghost of your past love.

— copyright: © @eshieslovemaze 0924.

[y0urfavdaught3r-2]

i just finished watching hercules…

1. i loveeeeee disney movies🥰

2. i fear.. i fear something has awoken my inner child a lil cus im having a disney movie obsession rn ANDDD i either almosttt cry or definitely cry while watching…. every time..

3. i need to be loved so deeply that they would go into the underworld and personally retrieve my soul to bring me back from the dead

4. i fear almost everyone in that movie is hot

[falderaletcetera]

okay who wants a fucking great country-ish song about the 401 highway, apparently the busiest highway in both canada and the US and an absolute nightmare to drive on?

(because I didn't think I needed this but apparently really do, and it has single-digit likes on youtube, so I figure it can stand to be seen by more people.)

this guy has minimal online presence and only two songs actually for sale anywhere but @darkfinch managed to find this, which has some info and songs on it.

and now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go relisten, because this song goes hard and is quite happily stuck in my head <3

~

lyrics:

this is a long highway and it might take a day to drive from detroit back to montreal where the big rigs roll down through ontario and cars go speeds they should never go (never go, never go) take a look ahead flashing lights of red another crash out on the blacktop run on the news it says another driver's dead that brings the toll this month to twenty one (twenty one, twenty one) I took a ride today out on the king's highway from montreal to toronto bay justice will have its day with your life you'll pay better pay heed, so the people say keep your hands at ten and two do what you have to do keep them there until the drive is done or you may walk this road a lost and lonely soul another death out on the 401

just between you and I how can you justify the life you took with the pedal down (pedal down, pedal down) the ghosts they roam the road looking for their home and if they spoke you never hear the sound (sound, sound) I took a ride today out on the king's highway from montreal to toronto bay justice will have its day with your life you'll pay better pay heed, so the people say keep your hands at ten and two do what you have to do keep them there until the drive is done or you may walk this road a lost and lonely soul another death out on the 401 another death out on the 401

~

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

John: Fandom play lists used to be full of songs from florence and the machine’s 2009 album “lungs.” we used to be a society